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Today’s goal was to obtain a zarpe. For those who haven’t done this, a Zarpe is the official document that you get when you leave a country by boat. They aren’t strictly necessary, but you can be rejected from entering your next port if you don’t have one. We decided that a 2,800 miles U-turn was enough reason to jump through a few hoops. So armed with a thousand opinions and rumors, we headed over to the Capitainia de Puerto in Puerto Vallarta. The Capitainia gave us a bit of a hard time but ended up giving us the paperwork we needed. After filling it out and giving them the correct paperwork we were directed to Immigration and Customs at the airport. The customs officer was very polite and very confused. I seems that the fact that our boat was in La Cruz created a bit of a jurisdictional problemo for our new friends. Finally one of the customs officers pointed us in the right direction. ...

We have been living on dirt for a week now and it’s not as totally weird as I thought it would be. Of course, I have been working on the boat every day, so it’s not like Convivia and I are estranged, but it is strange to watch the kids spread out all over this little house like gas (filling all available space). The boat was supposed to splash on Friday, but they found hundreds of blisters and they had to be dealt with. The yard has been great. Their staff have helped me through countless hardships and even lent me tools (an unheard of generosity in the realm of boatyards). ...

Ah the pictures. I know I have gotten behind, and I apologize. This batch is less about beautiful places and more about smiling faces. This last month seems to have been overflowing with joy here on Convivia. Here are a few choice vignettes.

Someone dropped a bomb on the morning net today. We were speeding right through our regularly scheduled broadcast when the voice of Marina La Cruz came on to inform us of a policy change. “The dinghy dock” (which had hitherto for been free) “will now be $5USD/day. We will also be issuing a day pass for the cruisers in the anchorage; $20 for use of the ‘services’ [VIP lounge, showers, etc.]” The net nearly imploded. For a few minutes all you could hear were boos and clicking as every boat that was listening echoed their dissent. $5/day is easily twice the most expensive dinghy dock fee in Mexico. We cleared out of Cabo (the former champion of excessive price) in just a few days, largely because of their API and dinghy dock fees. My mind was racing. Where could we go and still provision and get work done on our boat. Are the tacos in Punta de Mita anywhere near as good? ...

Last week I failed to appear at a Pacific Puddle Jump planning meeting and was consequentially elected to be the “Admiral” of the Banderas Bay “Fleet.” It’s not entirely clear to me what this means so I am assuming that I am the project manager of a cat herding operation. The Pacific Puddle Jump started nearly 20 years ago as a way for pre-gps, pre-accurate-long-term-weather sailors to support each other in crossing the largest ocean in the world. Over the years technology and knowledge base have matured and become fairly ubiquitous. The upshot is that nearly anyone can spend a little time on the internet and reap the wisdom necessary to cross the ocean. In spite of this sailors up and down the Pacific coast of the Americas still flock to the PPJ meetings in search of social connection, reassurance, and more information. ...

We are about a month away from setting out across the largest ocean on the planet. The list of things to do; for the boat; for the kids; for us; just gets longer but we are confident that we will be able to make the trip safely and comfortably. This week we are working on the haul-out. We got an insanely high quote last week, and then subsequent tips from fellow cruisers gave us renewed hope that we might not have to spend a fortune for a few coats of paint and some holes in the hull. Once we figure out where and when to haul, we have to decide what we are going to do with the family. Depending on where we haul out we may be able to live on Convivia, but do we want to? Living on a boat “on the hard” means no grey water, no potty, and a 15’ drop if anything or anyone falls off the deck. It most likely means a lot of eating out. Right now I am leaning towards a cheap apartment or hotel for the week that Convivia is out of the water. ...

When we left California we knew that we’d have to lower our standards in certain ways. We left our carseats behind, sold our bike helmets, and stepped out of Whole Foods. We got to Mexico and ate ceviche, with salsa, from a street side vendor. When we order water at a restaurant we don’t worry if it comes from a bottle or a glass. We’ve accepted rides in cars without carseats. We’ve taken rides in taxis without seat belts. We once waited for a bus so long we got in a delivery truck in the front seat, with no seat belts, with a stranger. ...

We are in our final port of the Mexican leg of our great adventure. The boat is falling apart around us*: port lights leak in the rain; blown gasket on the water heater causing fresh water to hemorrhage when we turn certain faucets on; little sun for power; water maker broken; and we are temporarily out of money. Note: I did not catalog any of the things I have fixed recently. ...

I know, I’m a broken record, but I feel I underestimated Mexico and want to shout its praises for all who, like me, didn’t know what they were missing. I know I’m not that first to blog about this, we aren’t even the first to get video, but still this is special. I took this footage after a long, stressful and slightly anti-climatic day. Afterwards I felt renewed, and ready to rock some bureaucracy. I can’t say public transportation in the USA ever gave me that much!

Today we said goodbye to a family that we have been traveling with since Mazatlan. In the cruising world this is called buddy boating. That term really falls short of the mark though. When you cruise intentionally like this with another boat, especially one with kids the same age as yours, your lives get subtly interwoven. You tend to eat together daily, errands and activities sync up and within a few weeks you feel almost as at home on their boat as on your own. ...

We’re in Manzanillo, anchored outside of Las Hadas resort and we’re on the verge of a transition. Our friends that are heading to El Salvador and Panama are heading south while we turn around and return to La Cruz in Banderas Bay. Manzanillo is where we make the choice not to head to Panama, or El Salvador, or Columbia, or Costa Rica, or the Galapagos or even to Zihuatanejo, because it’s too far to just turn around. Boats are now making their plans to head south, or head into the Sea of Cortez, or like us, to sail across the biggest ocean on the planet. ...

Chamela For some reason I didn’t take as many pictures as usual, but I did manage to capture the flavor of these two stops, with just a handful of good exposures. Chamela is an unassuming, quiet harbor frequented (it seems) more by Mexican tourists and RVrs than by cruisers and foreign tourists. I loved the chill, laid back beach scene and Ruby worked up the nerve to ask a spanish speaking girl to play. Once she got over the initial static barrier of communication, they played for an hour or so in the surf and on the beach, while Vick and I enjoyed a great grilled snapper. Perhaps we will get another chance to enjoy this harbor on our way back to La Cruz. ...

I’m going to risk sounding slightly ungrateful or whiney—though perhaps other long term travelers will understand—in an attempt to bring some resolution to the way I am feeling today. I woke up this morning to this view: (note, I took this with the iPad, just now. No extra care was taken, it looks more beautiful in real life). It’s gorgeous right? I mean, more gorgeous than usual. Yet somehow my reaction to it was meh-ish. Vick thinks this might be the most stunning place we have been so far, but I am more interested in a nap and maybe a few days of book reading than going for a hike or zip line. ...

Tonight I received an awesome email from a reader. She was wondering how we came to the decision to cash out a portion of our retirement to make this dream possible, and what struggles we had to overcome before feeling comfortable with the choice. I responded to her privately but then realized that I have been dancing around this in other posts. Rather than try to rephrase what I said, I’m going to post my reply in full, right here; with one caveat that I repeat in the body. This is a serious decision with serious consequences. In this email I was preaching to the converted, but our path is not the best for everyone. Also, to protect my dad’s honor and reputation I should add that while he is incredibly supportive of us and our dream, I don’t believe he would recommend this course of action if I asked him directly. This blog post is for entertainment purposes only. ...

I am playing catch up now. After so many “best ever” posts I had to think of something original or risk sounding like a broken record. Thankfully I found some free space on my hard drive tonight so I can grace you with some visual evidence of one particularly breathtaking harbor. Yelapa is a jewel of a pueblo. Tucked in among the mountains, it is only accessible by boat, or trail. There are no roads and the biggest powered vehicle is an ATV. If that isn’t enough to recommend the place, it is also community owned. Nobody in town owns any property, and you can feel it in the vibe. ...