Otherwise, there is no real news here. Actually, but for the frig drama, it has been pretty mundane. A lot of people have left here for El Salvador and we will be following soon once the frig is in. I was really excited to look at this one-line sailing publication I read and to see a picture of some friends of ours that we know are headed to the Marquesas. There is a sailing rally known as the Pacific Puddle Jump, which is for people sailing over there with departure points from Puerta Vallarta and Panama. Our friends are in Panama, ready to go. Mike and I hope that will be us this time next year.
Sometimes I think "Well, there is nothing exciting to report", but then I realize if I want to provide a proper and accurate description of the cruising life, I have to put it all down, even when it is not particularly interesting. Or possibly actually boring. There are days when I really just do household chores, wonder what to fix for dinner, help Mike rinse down the boat, and stuff like that. This is one of those days. Mike is out with a friend in the dinghy, checking out a new place for the friends to anchor, and I am writing this, all the while thinking I should really be straightening up the cabin and putting away the clean laundry that was just delivered. (This is one of the awesome parts of marina living down here. There is always someone who will pick up dirty laundry and then deliver it clean back to the boats. But today I suffered an injury while answering the laundry lady's knock on the side of my hull - I forgot I had the top hatch pulled shut and bumped my head HARD. I am glad no one was around to witness it. I hate doing stupid things like that and I do them all the time.
Now on the subject of laundry - it has been a mystery to me how the people down here manage to wear white all the time and keep it not only clean, but absolutely WHITE. And they do not reek of bleach. It is really amazing. I don't have one white t-shirt that is not completely sweat-stained to the point I can't wear them anywhere except on the boat, and perferably while underway. I would give anything for the secret, because once a t-shirt gets stained like that, it does not come out, even if soaked in pure clorox. And using a lot of bleach wears out the fabric really fast. So if anyone out there has a good way to deal with this, I will be eternally grateful. I was remembering when I was in seventh grade, and it was a huge insult for someone to come up and ask you "Sweat much?" And a girl of questionable morals was referred to as a "sweat." Not the later-famous term "sweathog," but simply "sweat." I think that is part of the reason I have always been sort of obsessed about not ever letting anyone see me in a shirt with that sort of stain. I guess I have too much time on my hands if I can sit around here thinking about stuff like that.
OK, here is some news. Those of you in the cold parts of the world may have heard of curling. Not getting one's hair done, rather, curling is a sport played on ice that at first glance looks a lot like shuffleboard. It is very big in Canada. When I was in college in Wisconsin, I knew people who played it. I had no interest. After that, I never heard of it again. But now that I am in hot, humid, southern mexico, I have become a fan. Why? Well, it is simple. One of the closest restaurant/bars near the marina here is owned by a Canadian. There are a bunch of TV sets and all of them will be showing hockey or curling pretty much every night. They are airing the March madnes games, and sometimes soccer is on, but the place (aptly named "Senor Puck's") is pretty much curling central. And against my better judgment, I have become interested. Especially in the women's league. They launch this heavy round thing that looks like a flat piece of granite with a handle down the ice (simply referred to as a stone), sort of like very carefully giving a bowling ball a gentle push down the lane. Then two people run along side of the stone as it heads down the ice in a straight line, quickly sweeping in front of it with little brooms. I think the sweeping is to influence where it goes without actually touching it. Sort of like how the goalie in hockey roughs up the area in front of the net to slow the puck, although this seems to be to smooth the path instead. The stone then comes to rest in a sort of bulls-eye like place, the object apparently being to knock your opponent's stone out of the bulls-eye while keeping yours in close to the center of the bulls-eye, like in darts. In fact, it reminds me of a cross between darts and shuffleboard, with a dash of bowling thrown in for good measure. And the players don't do it on skates, just some sort of shoes. I think it is amazing that after growing up in a cold climate, I had to come here to learn about it.
So, that will be all for today. I guess I need to stop fooling around on the computer and actually get something done. Keep a good thought for my frig money floating around in cyberspace that it lands safely in the frig guy's bank account!
"On the sea there is a tradition older even than the traditions of the country itself and wiser in its age than this new custom. It is the tradition that with responsibility goes authority and with them accountability.
...for men will not long trust leaders who feel themselves beyond accountability for what they do.
...And when men lose confidence and trust in those who lead, order disintegrates into chaos and purposeful ships into uncontrollable derelicts."
"On The Collision of Wasp and Hobson"
Wall Street Journal - Editorial 14 May 1952
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