Hope Sails

The rhythm of the sailing lifestyle is constant. Even when boats are tied in their slip there’s always a project,     parts to be ordered, and equipment replaced.   It’s easy to get lost in the universe that is 55 feet. Although, living at the marina is very communal. There’s always time for friendly pop ins, else come back later. Conversations form at the dock, in the cockpit, or down below where mobile homes emerge like hobbit holes.  Captain Joe and I waisted no time in starting on our stretch goals before the start of the Banderas Bay Regatta.  Day 1 - in preparation for provisioning for our passage to the Marquesas Islands in April we took out the supplies that stored in the bilge (the lowest parts of the ship that collects excess water and compartmentalizes into necessary storage) and gave it a good spring cleaning. Scrubbed the floors and side walls, and cleared the limber holes. These boats were designed for a droplet of water to flow to the lowest point. A visual of the meticu

This is the map of the Pacific Ocean framed above my bed in El Jardín del Pulpo, the Octopus Garden. I was volunteering as staff for a hostel in La Cruz Huanacaxtle for a month. I lived in the “Sky Dorm” that overlooked the Bahia de Banderas, Bay of Banderas with two retirees, configuring their the ex-pat, retirement plan.  The map took up most of the side wall. As an guide in the inner mountain west, I’m familiar with green topography, here the vast blue dominated. Captivated, I’d look for islands and gaped at the expansive ocean I had never really considered.  I asked questions to both of my dorm mates who were sailors previously. One crewed motor yachts and the other raced.    As I listened to their stories, I had the idea to get on a boat and see if I’d like it and made a plan to go dock hopping down at the local marina. The next day at work I was speaking to one of the community members, Jerry and his canine companion, Iris and asked if dock hopping was still a practice. He encour