South to Barra de Navidad Feb 2006

After four peaceful days in Tenacatita, it was time to head south again, this time toward Bahía de Navidad. Just north of Barra de Navidad lies an anchorage off the town of Melaque, nicknamed “Rocky Melaque” for good reason. The anchorage there has a reputation for being uncomfortably rolly, so we opted instead to enter the harbor and anchor inside the lagoon.

The entrance is well marked, but it demands attention. Staying precisely within the channel is essential, as the surrounding waters are deceptively shallow and have claimed more than a few unsuspecting boats. Once inside, we found the lagoon to be murky and shallow, dropping anchor in about 10–15 feet of water. Despite the limited depth, most boat, including us, put out around 150 feet of chain. The muddy bottom makes it notoriously easy to drag anchor, so extra scope provides peace of mind.

What we didn’t expect was just how much we would fall in love with Barra de Navidad. The small town quickly became a favorite, and we ended up staying far longer than planned. It offered easy access to everything a cruising boat could needed and then some.

Each morning, a man known simply as “the French Baker” would make his rounds through the lagoon, delivering fresh baguettes and pastries right to the boats. You could place an order the day before or take your chances and hope your favorite chocolate croissants hadn’t sold out by the time he reached you.

At the marina, the Grand Bay Hotel became a daily destination. With three swimming pools connected by winding slides, it was a paradise for the children.

Maria’s Tienda became our go-to for provisions, stocked with everything we needed to resupply. Even better, Maria would arrange delivery of heavier items by panga, saving us multiple trips. The fuel dock was another highlight—we were able to top off the tanks and give the boat a thorough washdown. When you’re cruising, having access to abundant fresh water feels like pure luxury.

From Barra we again pointed south to Manzanillo. We anchored just off of the Las Hadas Hotel & Marina. Las Hadas is famous for the movie 10, starring Dudley Moore and Bo Derek. The pool was large and refreshing, twisting around the large deck area, with a bridge over it and iguanas in the palm trees. In the lobby we had the luxury of free internet and air conditioning, taking turns to update the website and connecting with family. The marina at Las Hadas was small and the boats had to Med Moore to the dock. Parking our dinghy in the marina, we noticed a boat with two children aboard. S/V Capaz, with Juli, Tod, Jake and Zach just arrived and came down the coast from Portland, Oregon. Phoebe and Drake enjoyed the company of other children, and they were all similar in age. We learned that they were anchored next to us in Tenatacita and we never met them!

With two single crew members on board, Peter and Dave, it was harder at first to connect with Tod and Juli. While having extra hands was certainly helpful, it also came with an adjustment. Their pace felt more like vacation mode, full of energy and celebration, while we were settling into what was becoming our everyday life. Finding that balance between hosting, managing the boat, and maintaining our own rhythm took some getting used to.

After a few days, Peter, who we called “Peterdog” flew back to Los Angeles, and Dave stayed on with us as we continued heading south.

Blue Sky anchored off Caleta de Campos,

Leaving early one morning we headed south and anchored in Punta Cabeza Negra, it was unbearably rolly! Leaving early the next day we motored our way to Caleta de Campos. A friend of Dave's, Jose Pintor, lived there and was a great host. Jose spends 1/2 his time in Mexico and the other 1/2 in Albuquerque, he opened his home and heart to us and we are forever changed. He is a musician and his living room filled with Bongos and instruments, which he graciously allowed the children to play. Enjoying a lovely dinner at his friends Palapa, we meet a family from England and shared our whole fish with them.

Blue Sky at Las Hadas, Jose and Dave

Whenever we arrived at a small anchorage with a village ashore, we’d pull the dinghy up near a local restaurant and head straight in to order a couple of sodas or a quick appetizer. It was an unspoken arrangement; the owners would keep an eye on the dinghy while we explored. After wandering through town, we always returned to the same spot, happy to settle in for more food and a few drinks.

After a few days we pulled up the anchor and headed south again to Zihuatanejo for the Sailfest week. Arriving in time to sign up for all the fun and activities.

After leaving our routine lives in Redondo Beach, it’s no surprise we’ve received quite a few emails asking what a “typical” day looks like. Some of our recent stops may give the impression that this is one long, endless vacation, but that’s not entirely the case.

The word typical doesn’t really apply out here. Life changes dramatically depending on whether we’re underway, at anchor, or tied to a dock. For a bit of context, even at anchor, though less demanding than being at sea, we’re still not secured to a mooring ball or dock. The boat is entirely self-reliant, so we operate much as we would offshore. There’s plenty to say about each scenario, but for now, here’s a look at a day in a calm, safe anchorage, in good weather:

0600 – Phoebe and Drake wake up and climb out of their bunks to sneak in a few minutes of snuggles with Emma.

0601 – With space at a premium, Jim is gently edged out and heads up to make coffee, propane on, kettle boiling, coffee press in action. At anchor, there’s no electricity unless we run the generator, so mornings stay simple.

0700 – Breakfast and cleanup. Honey toast under the broiler, pancakes, or waffles are favorites. Phoebe settles into her artwork, while Drake practices his sword or lightsaber skills and builds with Legos.

0800 – HAM radio net check-in. Operating legally requires a license, and it’s a great way to stay connected.

0815 – Weather updates via HAM radio for the west coast of North America down to the southern border of Mexico.

0830 – VHF “harbor net.” This includes emergency updates, roll call, and “mail call” messages shared among boats within range. It’s invaluable for local knowledge and staying in the loop, all conducted on designated leisure channels.

0900 – Boat school begins. A mix of workbook pages, reading, math, and journaling. If a boat project comes up, that takes priority, safety always comes first.

1130 – School wraps up (or tools are put away), and lunch is prepared either eaten onboard or packed for an afternoon outing.

1230–1730 – Time to head ashore. Everyone piles into the dinghy, our “car.” Beach landings in Mexico require some strategy; we’ve learned to think like surfers, watching the wave sets and heading in during a lull to avoid getting soaked. Once ashore, we haul the dinghy above the tide line, secure it, and remove anything valuable.

From there, we might walk, catch a bus, or grab a cab into town. Provisioning trips mean bringing along soft coolers and canvas totes.

Afternoons might include sightseeing, museums, or beach time, sandcastle building, boogie boarding, surfing, snorkeling, collecting shells, racing hermit crabs, or hiking the shoreline.

1800 – Back to s/v Blue Sky to clean up and start dinner.

1900 – Dinner is finished and cleaned up before dark so we can enjoy the sunset. Afterward, we recharge the batteries and turn the refrigerator back on, which usually means running the generator. Family movie time follows, along with a bedtime story.

2000 – Bedtime for Phoebe and Drake. For us, it’s time to plan ahead: reviewing weather, mapping out the next destination, estimating travel time, making provisioning lists, and identifying any maintenance needs. If parts are required, we figure out whether we have spares or start a list for the next visitor coming down from the U.S.

What’s not included in this “typical” day are the countless behind-the-scenes tasks: scrubbing the hull “mowing the lawn”, rinsing salt and sand from the boat, hauling or making fresh water, filling diesel and gasoline jerry jugs, polishing stainless, preventing corrosion, checking lines and sails for chafe, doing laundry, and deep-cleaning, especially the engine room and bilge. A clean engine room is often the first clue that something isn’t right.

2100 – “Cruisers’ midnight.” We turn in shortly after dark and rise again with the sun.

So, that’s a glimpse into a “typical” day at least when nothing unexpected happens.