tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71108031415685983522024-03-21T18:02:43.669-07:00Voyage of the SuperkidsSomewhere between Portland and Eugene we decided that the term "young-adults" doesn't quite apply to us. Not quite adults but no longer kids - like the 5th year college student termed super-senior - in the college of life we are Superkids.Eddiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05466479520386358171noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7110803141568598352.post-56930011569892791392008-12-12T10:51:00.000-08:002009-07-08T09:57:41.497-07:00Spaghetti Sunrise<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwawb6quEv7QSYkSASzwr3guJu-C1x5qFZXtkBeZik7IpwmQa9G7c4tfYQsMlGWPyR8-ZhQLNywApGOOUxr2Bh0EeNOiSauuVo2-dE3fO3Pzgz-tePnTXCuq3Z-ea1JXwRwbDAiWwCbYc/s1600-h/PB230349.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwawb6quEv7QSYkSASzwr3guJu-C1x5qFZXtkBeZik7IpwmQa9G7c4tfYQsMlGWPyR8-ZhQLNywApGOOUxr2Bh0EeNOiSauuVo2-dE3fO3Pzgz-tePnTXCuq3Z-ea1JXwRwbDAiWwCbYc/s320/PB230349.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280933610242446258" border="0" /></a>In life, especially in life on a sailboat, especially in life on a sailboat in Mexico, one has to learn to expect the unexpected. When life gives you lemons, as they say - or in this case, limes - bust out the tequila and salt and make margaritas. When we embarked on this voyage we were expecting to sail from Los Angeles all the way down to San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua. Well, as fate or luck or Neptune would have it, we hit a bump in the road that unfortunately will prevent the Jackson contingent of the Gypsy crew from making it all the way to Nicaragua - this time. The formidable Gulf of Tehuantepec and its powerful winds from the North - called Tehuantepeckers (spelling subject to debate) - left us tied up at the dock for two weeks waiting for a weather window safe enough to sail across. Fortunately the place we got stuck was Southern Mexico, where the tequila (and mezcal) are plentiful. Margaritas all around!<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_EU1CtVofd5oLtTctJDxtPgvrfpVgGJtXucjYO1XHszOrihiXuOsFYjsqzwD6-vIh4kZ9M42bvU_h0rc98XKDzahKalMD9bT871MPoFTfIxN_xHLwOwo-GbVW0M6FBZwDgNcNhkhfJE/s1600-h/PB230354.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_EU1CtVofd5oLtTctJDxtPgvrfpVgGJtXucjYO1XHszOrihiXuOsFYjsqzwD6-vIh4kZ9M42bvU_h0rc98XKDzahKalMD9bT871MPoFTfIxN_xHLwOwo-GbVW0M6FBZwDgNcNhkhfJE/s320/PB230354.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280935073618374834" border="0" /></a>Chad and I weren´t really expecting much other than some cold beer and margs when we pulled into Acapulco. Sometimes it´s good to set expectations low. Acapulco delivered on the drinks and not a whole lot else other than this sweet night time vista of the harbor with city lights in the background.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju7ogC30QY97jCPQ3grrGmHIRfxbxkzDg59iyuInUY90XSMf8yxFK1er7csX_htYlYjPR2Qh3i2WbraS1eTv2UIr9IRl6Tcp6czeSAyK9aBJhsbHCu2CpsKisqkmzbm2EUzK6Rw4B7NrI/s1600-h/PB230351.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju7ogC30QY97jCPQ3grrGmHIRfxbxkzDg59iyuInUY90XSMf8yxFK1er7csX_htYlYjPR2Qh3i2WbraS1eTv2UIr9IRl6Tcp6czeSAyK9aBJhsbHCu2CpsKisqkmzbm2EUzK6Rw4B7NrI/s320/PB230351.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280936736686714914" border="0" /></a><br />Oh it also delivered on VW Bugs. So much so that Justin did a jig.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzpqjOhOZm0ChRMTzWu14ker8jslZupdeo2d6LVOMwC45CJ71n5g2Y2A2BnLbICmP6em-Cayi9n7OeLUU1MTp9t_YjfTDWAeuCSJKvRZuEH-SUZ85hOwjA7l46xTPRmFXWNX2a7E-sfRM/s1600-h/hand.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzpqjOhOZm0ChRMTzWu14ker8jslZupdeo2d6LVOMwC45CJ71n5g2Y2A2BnLbICmP6em-Cayi9n7OeLUU1MTp9t_YjfTDWAeuCSJKvRZuEH-SUZ85hOwjA7l46xTPRmFXWNX2a7E-sfRM/s320/hand.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278981517095738130" border="0" /></a>Our next stop, and the location of our Thanksgiving feast, was Puerto Escondido, known to surfers everywhere as the Mexican Pipeline for it´s monster waves. Our arrival in PE left us all a little wary of what we might encounter there. First off, it was easily the most difficult anchorage of the trip, risking running into dozens of pangas (Mexican water taxis/fishing boats) and flirting with a bottomless, anchor-eating trench. And second, the first person to greet us in town was none other than the local shark-wielding crackhead! This guy actually swam up to the boat after Justin had gone ashore to speak with the port captain. He came bearing the gift of a single flip flop and climbed right up into the cockpit, speaking crackhead sign language and then telling us that he was the port captain. ?!?! He then left and came back an hour or so later with a dead shark in his teeth. When we asked about the shark he muttered something about his daughter, and any time another boat passed by he would yell to them threatening to let the shark go if they didn´t turn off their engines. Needless to say, we were a little freaked out. I think the eight fingered hand here is some of Crackhead´s artwork.<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbTWolA2MXCdOHg69ugDatbJOn_4LLm-3bX8-BAEgaA53ROuTQtXlxbc8aVVMVz16quuwFfKgTNhmCxrl_yr31KKc_sxpJ33xv_DW4NDaP9RxtpQIeVPnST4xVnn9H3ZfS06Ny_JaCTDc/s1600-h/turkey+day.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbTWolA2MXCdOHg69ugDatbJOn_4LLm-3bX8-BAEgaA53ROuTQtXlxbc8aVVMVz16quuwFfKgTNhmCxrl_yr31KKc_sxpJ33xv_DW4NDaP9RxtpQIeVPnST4xVnn9H3ZfS06Ny_JaCTDc/s320/turkey+day.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278982428192748946" border="0" /></a><br />The venue of our Thanksgiving Feast Part 1. Fresh fish and jumbo margs help to numb the pain of not devouring turkey on Turkey Day. I don´t remember where Part 2 took place.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_RHoXfpd3wNaZn7Njf5fQW4m2Zpsb1b4srVF0zWg1c4PmBmZSbM6loYa5ImP4iNQ80npSwxk5MxoWYx6toCXMaP2d7EU65rhBpgFEF8isC0Z40WM3rjTKZt6PC0l7isQe-zxg9P82hU/s1600-h/justin%C2%B4s+out.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_RHoXfpd3wNaZn7Njf5fQW4m2Zpsb1b4srVF0zWg1c4PmBmZSbM6loYa5ImP4iNQ80npSwxk5MxoWYx6toCXMaP2d7EU65rhBpgFEF8isC0Z40WM3rjTKZt6PC0l7isQe-zxg9P82hU/s320/justin%C2%B4s+out.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278981189287717570" border="0" /></a>The life of a sailor can be really be rough and sometimes it just hits you out of the blue. Like when you´re enjoying a beer on the beach, as it did here with Justin. Amazingly, he didn´t spill a drop over the course of an hour long nap!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeK4IchCo1JfmDLOddm4qbv0t3F149nt59ZCr5rwEMSzVNNtFNAqOIgrpQNK-R1FKf9hIZZ1HNmxzVUZog5HCuky0CqjrR_p9Zlq2JhqQV8tek7fyMTpi5_pgKCW7pdHkZqcV9Qxritcg/s1600-h/tortuga.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeK4IchCo1JfmDLOddm4qbv0t3F149nt59ZCr5rwEMSzVNNtFNAqOIgrpQNK-R1FKf9hIZZ1HNmxzVUZog5HCuky0CqjrR_p9Zlq2JhqQV8tek7fyMTpi5_pgKCW7pdHkZqcV9Qxritcg/s320/tortuga.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278983264725878354" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Tortugitas booking for the safety of the Ocean. In Sayulita local guys would carry around puppy dogs to hit on gringo girls. In Puerto Escondido I´m pretty sure they carry around baby turtles.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi21xWT6E074CH-CTRU5TFOJJinjDgRbYZqUn06mCeQRGWbQbRkP6UfxODRPS_Jexn-5VDd7469PGuDZ7wQuqLR-D4ljscx063eq-dKOy4OKucnaB0CZ2yRkOVPQQWEukTEjamheZ_Fqrk/s1600-h/shadows.jpg"><br /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5x41B53j79pR6OrMrzVLosvlWp_7tYqBs5yhgi5UZDnpgtayhYqZjOBmhTbgHRhIX1mOyq4i01REVyJD7OMYK_Ss3AbR1wDTCj-8denF_mvJ3NOliSshFcvfj8tXpS8fU2LQifZ6pmZk/s1600-h/chad,+pulpit.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5x41B53j79pR6OrMrzVLosvlWp_7tYqBs5yhgi5UZDnpgtayhYqZjOBmhTbgHRhIX1mOyq4i01REVyJD7OMYK_Ss3AbR1wDTCj-8denF_mvJ3NOliSshFcvfj8tXpS8fU2LQifZ6pmZk/s320/chad,+pulpit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278983675806252258" border="0" /></a>The sail from Puerto Escondido to Huatulco was a quick one but nonetheless, awesome. Light breezes, perfect weather and dolphins all the way. Little did we know it was the last leg we´d sail together. DUH DUH DUH!!!! (scary music sound)<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi21xWT6E074CH-CTRU5TFOJJinjDgRbYZqUn06mCeQRGWbQbRkP6UfxODRPS_Jexn-5VDd7469PGuDZ7wQuqLR-D4ljscx063eq-dKOy4OKucnaB0CZ2yRkOVPQQWEukTEjamheZ_Fqrk/s1600-h/shadows.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi21xWT6E074CH-CTRU5TFOJJinjDgRbYZqUn06mCeQRGWbQbRkP6UfxODRPS_Jexn-5VDd7469PGuDZ7wQuqLR-D4ljscx063eq-dKOy4OKucnaB0CZ2yRkOVPQQWEukTEjamheZ_Fqrk/s320/shadows.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278982171437478850" border="0" /></a>Eddie and his shadows. Just kidding, those are Justin´s and Chad´s shadows. Actually, that´s all that´s left of Justin and Chad.... their shadows. DUH DUH DUH!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJrSBjoFa8LLXjthl63TFZlRMsvyzWn3uIGnKXNFcM_iSW4TO5EarG2irT3xki9S8ng-tKKgjD47Uj0lfHBVTNl0swa9-Oqxm2DgshTLW9sh2RRAg6XyA3H0e8ZLuqGvSe0majDExvEI/s1600-h/rockies+drunk.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJrSBjoFa8LLXjthl63TFZlRMsvyzWn3uIGnKXNFcM_iSW4TO5EarG2irT3xki9S8ng-tKKgjD47Uj0lfHBVTNl0swa9-Oqxm2DgshTLW9sh2RRAg6XyA3H0e8ZLuqGvSe0majDExvEI/s320/rockies+drunk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278979181921036498" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Woops, maybe not. I guess they were just at the bar! When we got to Huatulco we realized how gnarly the Gulf of Tehuantepec can be. Up there with some of the most dangerous places in the world to sail when the weather´s wrong. So when we found out we´d be waiting in port for at least the next week for a good weather window we decided to take a little road trip to Oaxaca City. Oaxaca is the mezcal capital of Mexico and bars in the city will concoct speciality mezcal cocktails. The most renowned of these bars (by those in this photo, anyway) is the Casa de Mezal. This guy wearing the Colorado Rockies jacket was already a few deep when we showed up and when he found out we were from the States he got really excited. So much so that he called his brother who lives Stateside and passed the phone around for each of us to talk to him. Then he showed us his muscular calves. He was excited.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcwVO9OOft9Wo8XD0S0Dh7X8mZ3j7Po3IRbkA2Lp7TVkzI1HrHN_Qc2gylc_u7C5YTaJVOo9aTe4AWvaewg4bQkuAqFLUBf29WqPaXsENhg-l69F9bbYsupIEnaZ5726FRCVvqEmitfdU/s1600-h/poinsettas.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcwVO9OOft9Wo8XD0S0Dh7X8mZ3j7Po3IRbkA2Lp7TVkzI1HrHN_Qc2gylc_u7C5YTaJVOo9aTe4AWvaewg4bQkuAqFLUBf29WqPaXsENhg-l69F9bbYsupIEnaZ5726FRCVvqEmitfdU/s320/poinsettas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278978665611389074" border="0" /></a>Rumor has it that these guys´moms love poinsettas. These guys´moms would love the plaza in Oaxaca. As you can see, poinsettas grow on trees here.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkGeK9845wkOYNeBu_JKVMjT-zKbDwnKN-9pac5iukodTV6Y06SNXnizJWJBKluTUbzTVAHQihEkgOX8tVYlw9S-iIXlW2eLhmDfrKyAtuyLWcd3oAJ4voTs8hSrM2CF6trUjOLwRFPtI/s1600-h/handstands.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkGeK9845wkOYNeBu_JKVMjT-zKbDwnKN-9pac5iukodTV6Y06SNXnizJWJBKluTUbzTVAHQihEkgOX8tVYlw9S-iIXlW2eLhmDfrKyAtuyLWcd3oAJ4voTs8hSrM2CF6trUjOLwRFPtI/s320/handstands.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278979889787005282" border="0" /></a>Just outside Oaxaca are the Olmec and Zapotec ruins of Monte Alban. They are neat. They are also the perfect place for handstand competitions!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQEnL5NLQ5oSg5LnKl6CVgCs40A7-m0OWmMzbPmF-LbQfTMEafejrzkOQMlPb4j_nvI0N7y4Ic6XwtFhCIqgxtRP4ovmJgOXffmNIhM8U40Xt2NfVZlenMAhnBC307rQMgUIVILCffqM4/s1600-h/fertilitize.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQEnL5NLQ5oSg5LnKl6CVgCs40A7-m0OWmMzbPmF-LbQfTMEafejrzkOQMlPb4j_nvI0N7y4Ic6XwtFhCIqgxtRP4ovmJgOXffmNIhM8U40Xt2NfVZlenMAhnBC307rQMgUIVILCffqM4/s320/fertilitize.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278980360062025666" border="0" /></a>Chad needed study the hieroglyphs on the walls of Monte Alban´s temples for only minutes before he was able to perform this extremely accurate reenactment of the Olmec fertility dance. Impressive.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLjRoBZYL4oEpUK47kRCixMqqY1SKAsZC4mJL7SM8wSbBYMsC6X_EOysA3S-yw7mORPrVYjNgm_FvyuoPuDZvKa9nHgirTgoh-E3cQTSsDvx1w-VtCByce2vcJLyDs7mWWpk_jm-9mZyo/s1600-h/breakin+the+law.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLjRoBZYL4oEpUK47kRCixMqqY1SKAsZC4mJL7SM8wSbBYMsC6X_EOysA3S-yw7mORPrVYjNgm_FvyuoPuDZvKa9nHgirTgoh-E3cQTSsDvx1w-VtCByce2vcJLyDs7mWWpk_jm-9mZyo/s320/breakin+the+law.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278980036778251474" border="0" /></a>Look carefully at the sign. Chad showing complete disregard for law and order, and walking etiquette.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDLPICQCj5XQlVMSvo4ZU5mlW2e0vKfWn8-wJlE6VTvL35ZLLkAeWiXwASagi9I3SKHJDxFp4i-OrYlaPKLcTnxP3JbC1LcPSAL-_T6WHumaVLgI7_62arL-gIwEHxYG_s76cAxyPjLx4/s1600-h/P7170026.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDLPICQCj5XQlVMSvo4ZU5mlW2e0vKfWn8-wJlE6VTvL35ZLLkAeWiXwASagi9I3SKHJDxFp4i-OrYlaPKLcTnxP3JbC1LcPSAL-_T6WHumaVLgI7_62arL-gIwEHxYG_s76cAxyPjLx4/s320/P7170026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280927321955945970" border="0" /></a>They were little people back then. Or Chad is a very large people now.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidG9aKRiQ-9DoC3x8L_3ipYX87lIzdoU7MFh8GWi0C9-z2SktYU4Gdxj9ORBkXS3V8frD8zbltYk9M2Js3XVRXnkdkX5RGip2t1_JczEIwtLL4L_mMbwC1Vq4AQFF6IRI1otEvtf82ovw/s1600-h/top+o+the+ruins.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidG9aKRiQ-9DoC3x8L_3ipYX87lIzdoU7MFh8GWi0C9-z2SktYU4Gdxj9ORBkXS3V8frD8zbltYk9M2Js3XVRXnkdkX5RGip2t1_JczEIwtLL4L_mMbwC1Vq4AQFF6IRI1otEvtf82ovw/s320/top+o+the+ruins.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278980192581037026" border="0" /></a>¨Seriously, Chad was this much bigger than that boney dude!¨<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfxz9ULet2qFtkH6X5j1M_YLduvHZHp5CO4_AAy8BmKcVbEcbykrJvgnWW0OAlAuwXhBXyVCMhzJ0CKj1NdZNjwNcQFp3GfOeuXavjy5tHIkgZKRMe2bHJ2GirTjc5aiQDO4GueUf9khI/s1600-h/P7160015.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfxz9ULet2qFtkH6X5j1M_YLduvHZHp5CO4_AAy8BmKcVbEcbykrJvgnWW0OAlAuwXhBXyVCMhzJ0CKj1NdZNjwNcQFp3GfOeuXavjy5tHIkgZKRMe2bHJ2GirTjc5aiQDO4GueUf9khI/s320/P7160015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280926912917499362" border="0" /></a>These guys towered over us all. Not sure what they´re all about, but they stood outside a great cooperative for local handicrafts. Oaxaca is a mecca for all things artisinal in Mexico.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmW3z0w51GZzqTe_kR06Ubt6DVPgd6Fl5LzhocrDmt2_Rn_o2CNeG7Y0gnSOKam6kWogtx577ckrIsBrGSrZ717z4QjH9oMg1nfxJvk9lu1bdTyw9GazYZtakhPTQTBS8prYfQwWft970/s1600-h/shaggy+hat.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmW3z0w51GZzqTe_kR06Ubt6DVPgd6Fl5LzhocrDmt2_Rn_o2CNeG7Y0gnSOKam6kWogtx577ckrIsBrGSrZ717z4QjH9oMg1nfxJvk9lu1bdTyw9GazYZtakhPTQTBS8prYfQwWft970/s320/shaggy+hat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278980712966388466" border="0" /></a>One of the many finds in the Oaxacan markets. Watch out Jackson, shaggy hats comin´at ya this winter!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7SkBym3BHGhen2Qhic9jGllzcmTG2EwCczyYpwXI-tVHonWefz0LDmclCoFmfjivHFi6MMSjbkdPxgWwBiNT3Lz0yhjKU4WxsKqOMYi-nMipDCjGBB3iYdmk7Gq55ugfErSkf-aQdAcE/s1600-h/floppy+hat.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7SkBym3BHGhen2Qhic9jGllzcmTG2EwCczyYpwXI-tVHonWefz0LDmclCoFmfjivHFi6MMSjbkdPxgWwBiNT3Lz0yhjKU4WxsKqOMYi-nMipDCjGBB3iYdmk7Gq55ugfErSkf-aQdAcE/s320/floppy+hat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278978305076868914" border="0" /></a>This was a while ago, but I don´t think I ever mentioned that I got a floppy hat. And it is sweet.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN1a8epjEKjN4RT24wgY1X5om5AemUdoNZ3svO5tjnkSwSZvjaiJn_sLS4NQ5rlUewF_rV0FDj1maF7N3ePYGwEpzLOux-0IVPe5XcnHBSCOPMp1oroZgqkS8Bazr5qxWc6hbfLoqirkQ/s1600-h/house+of+smoking+meats.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN1a8epjEKjN4RT24wgY1X5om5AemUdoNZ3svO5tjnkSwSZvjaiJn_sLS4NQ5rlUewF_rV0FDj1maF7N3ePYGwEpzLOux-0IVPe5XcnHBSCOPMp1oroZgqkS8Bazr5qxWc6hbfLoqirkQ/s320/house+of+smoking+meats.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278979416420278146" border="0" /></a>That´s the aptly dubbed House of Smoking Meats in the background. The sight of the Gypsy crew´s last meal together. This place is great. It is a gauntlet of vendors selling all kinds of grilled meat from pork and beef to blood sausage and chorizo. You find your favorite vendor, pick out the meat and then take a seat at some communal picknick tables where you then select the veggies you want and pick up some tortillas from a different vendor. Might sound complicated, but it´s blast, and the end result is scrumptulescence.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ0WRkRvLX_ArLvosrfhOROPd1BrKEl4DlXvS_XYmRJCVQVlD0Q1SiorL-6Er8s_TFDrqL5d-bZdjH2ULtsalFSuoKv3cKFhdk9paW_IwMNH01GUEa-gTUPpLJbv3RyB8UNi0qA8yYURs/s1600-h/feast.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ0WRkRvLX_ArLvosrfhOROPd1BrKEl4DlXvS_XYmRJCVQVlD0Q1SiorL-6Er8s_TFDrqL5d-bZdjH2ULtsalFSuoKv3cKFhdk9paW_IwMNH01GUEa-gTUPpLJbv3RyB8UNi0qA8yYURs/s320/feast.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278980874302526034" border="0" /></a>Our House of Smoking Meats meal. We ate it all.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgABB1M8_8qpGoCbL1IBfh0BT1o0X7eGHsd1-0h4lTHCisGAq2XhZ08mOphn0QXqJVy5jZyZQRKBL9O41yb7uqhrbyqP6Ws76pMuVHRBhVpZ1M0AafRu0IwWuYmH-1N-YmHx5u24k5Unos/s1600-h/P7170048.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgABB1M8_8qpGoCbL1IBfh0BT1o0X7eGHsd1-0h4lTHCisGAq2XhZ08mOphn0QXqJVy5jZyZQRKBL9O41yb7uqhrbyqP6Ws76pMuVHRBhVpZ1M0AafRu0IwWuYmH-1N-YmHx5u24k5Unos/s320/P7170048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280928135460874706" border="0" /></a>¨Seriously, the skeleton guy at Monte Alban was only like this big!¨<br />Just kidding. This is how you say ¨push the shutter button¨ to someone who doesn´t know what a shutter button is.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Xe8hVzzvA2sbOqZtgxnMfL_OqhNXO-rM51G6xG2y0CsYAJQB3z3hTL13MCBxrqq-v5a4V16R4NHklsmTnJHu24-kOOoj9BBk4Yx-_fSxdJIAx0SOGDEFoqmTdYV2-7aYE6BJzn4jibA/s1600-h/P7170041.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Xe8hVzzvA2sbOqZtgxnMfL_OqhNXO-rM51G6xG2y0CsYAJQB3z3hTL13MCBxrqq-v5a4V16R4NHklsmTnJHu24-kOOoj9BBk4Yx-_fSxdJIAx0SOGDEFoqmTdYV2-7aYE6BJzn4jibA/s320/P7170041.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280927726839667298" border="0" /></a>Oaxaca put on a fireworks show for us every night we were in town. Very thoughtful of them. I think it´s because we´re special.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZHwvsK1tnSWMK8RLvVWnKY2AAkss9KO56S0zzZ6LD02xBFJBG1Z-Xp_2sVsGc_7jJpnqdW4UreXre-lOqUVvsPw3dXjyxIkP-0R2d6VPbwKyh958v8Vco0kgJaPkHg45C1lysdoDcqzE/s1600-h/P7220065.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZHwvsK1tnSWMK8RLvVWnKY2AAkss9KO56S0zzZ6LD02xBFJBG1Z-Xp_2sVsGc_7jJpnqdW4UreXre-lOqUVvsPw3dXjyxIkP-0R2d6VPbwKyh958v8Vco0kgJaPkHg45C1lysdoDcqzE/s320/P7220065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280928674064469426" border="0" /></a>We had to say goodbye to Chad in Oaxaca. It was a sad day, but when duty calls there´s not much you can do, especially when you´re betting against something as fickle as mother nature and those damn Tehuantepeckers. So Justin and I headed back to Huatulco to rejoin Gypsy and wait out the weather until it looked like we could safely sail. We thought it would be just a couple of days later, and we even attempted to go for it, but when the captain of a 42 foot motor yacht who has apparently crossed the Gulf more than anyone told us he got 8 miles out and it was too rough, we payed attention and turned around. Then we went to the beach. Like I said, when life gives you limes...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXgnnM_VxWT1kztqR-3hBaDOinzrBoWtfRa1E5nFDhAcn4NEtYN0FY4zgsx74JW5TkS8nt990RwjwApvNHj7c3I7_S_ftLZiZN1NwsSPB7iBJ31ynL_xHy1biXsyCevofu21CU-CbuWOw/s1600-h/P7250084.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXgnnM_VxWT1kztqR-3hBaDOinzrBoWtfRa1E5nFDhAcn4NEtYN0FY4zgsx74JW5TkS8nt990RwjwApvNHj7c3I7_S_ftLZiZN1NwsSPB7iBJ31ynL_xHy1biXsyCevofu21CU-CbuWOw/s320/P7250084.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280930696296166658" border="0" /></a>We ended up being stuck in Huatulco for so long that we became veritable regulars at our favorite bar in town, the Tipsy Blowfish. During our first visit to the Blowfish we met one of it´s owners, Cortney (pictured here with us alongside her dad, the co-owner), and proposed to her that we would drink enough margaritas for her to give us all free t-shirts. Well by the time we left town we had achieved our goal, although mine doesn´t have sleeves. I must have slacked.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOzSAUbbBbKv3d5VkzSutUkZBSHa4ZEXdeqgjphUj5StieV3_olqxzT9BUaEaEZMNTbTu-GGsS69x0Sj9jXarGXB92EAsvUhtu-qV8c6AWYdkUznJbWJEVsezRFHG40vrlfo17rqV2Nk/s1600-h/P7250090.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOzSAUbbBbKv3d5VkzSutUkZBSHa4ZEXdeqgjphUj5StieV3_olqxzT9BUaEaEZMNTbTu-GGsS69x0Sj9jXarGXB92EAsvUhtu-qV8c6AWYdkUznJbWJEVsezRFHG40vrlfo17rqV2Nk/s320/P7250090.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280931039803435378" border="0" /></a>That is mezcal con gusano. Yep, mezcal with a worm. And yup, I drank it. It was chewy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuFckVjBS8U84KV_NvQkt53-jQYypJB0hY3qjY7tcGlEH6zD3jJUhR8Dwd1o94y1FIcPHQUYu2etEjA1d9LjFI1WUXxWxqekkRsNKZWSPg33KpzUMTAoGo2IP-QLcIJe9KLFJBeWWtfU0/s1600-h/P7250070.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuFckVjBS8U84KV_NvQkt53-jQYypJB0hY3qjY7tcGlEH6zD3jJUhR8Dwd1o94y1FIcPHQUYu2etEjA1d9LjFI1WUXxWxqekkRsNKZWSPg33KpzUMTAoGo2IP-QLcIJe9KLFJBeWWtfU0/s320/P7250070.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280930125428715618" border="0" /></a>It gets hot in southern Mexico, but fortunately during the second week of our stay in Huatulco we discovered that there is such a thing as a free pool club. It´s a lot cooler than a dock. We were also there so long that we started making friends with locals, like these two lovelies, Lucy and Lupe.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitdMxZFily_VndJcD5XFSjqCj4XPNOo8mRrhLIlN4UIFQy0dfzpVQLH8n7JhqiNhrVqCiIPneQgNvoExcx1VHVXbZCSXwGFK9_P7ITAPMl_7AYLX6Zbe8F3g5XpUC0M-ojo3yg2xdkR7I/s1600-h/P7280121.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitdMxZFily_VndJcD5XFSjqCj4XPNOo8mRrhLIlN4UIFQy0dfzpVQLH8n7JhqiNhrVqCiIPneQgNvoExcx1VHVXbZCSXwGFK9_P7ITAPMl_7AYLX6Zbe8F3g5XpUC0M-ojo3yg2xdkR7I/s320/P7280121.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280932286279924546" border="0" /></a>It was the moment we´d been waiting for for two weeks, but there was a twinge of sadness leaving Huatulco after staying so long. Great people and a great town, none of which we´ll forget.<br />But alas, time to move on. And that we did, with a new crew member. Welcome aboard Danielle! Danielle flew down to join us on a moment´s notice from Santa Barbara when she heard Justin´s cry for crew. Chad, we put it to a vote and decided that she looks better in a bikini than you do. But don´t feel bad, you´re still really good at fishing.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBKJY82cm2X_SIy3k30nTdX6gBk6be_qbDABMlwvC6R702sVjdgKjWByxcLieugSPGyqwA1BMYcqw9hzl1ObcSR2Q8Uuz6XgHAdZJzbYc9B41OwfXkwZVCxcFUDzwd60s9CPaPJGLmhdI/s1600-h/Danielle's+Pics+013.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBKJY82cm2X_SIy3k30nTdX6gBk6be_qbDABMlwvC6R702sVjdgKjWByxcLieugSPGyqwA1BMYcqw9hzl1ObcSR2Q8Uuz6XgHAdZJzbYc9B41OwfXkwZVCxcFUDzwd60s9CPaPJGLmhdI/s320/Danielle's+Pics+013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280925078923066034" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">With time running out for the remaining Jackson crew, crossing the Gulf of Tehuantepec would unfortunately be as far as I could sail. But after such a long wait it felt pretty rewarding to finally slay the beast. And with a bountiful day´s worth of fishing we were able to cook up a fresh farewell feast of fish tacos.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqqOFALIFNyTskYih3GuuXoLRjcm2RKTsqKlnYaEYwqAJlKA516gF0-jAZy751CqpjNK4_U3x8HvEO86NwtttBb5HNnvxxqLJaeGgQW14eqYqvkKIJSDT6YfLXtUomYjC37nMDBpQCGwY/s1600-h/P7280120.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqqOFALIFNyTskYih3GuuXoLRjcm2RKTsqKlnYaEYwqAJlKA516gF0-jAZy751CqpjNK4_U3x8HvEO86NwtttBb5HNnvxxqLJaeGgQW14eqYqvkKIJSDT6YfLXtUomYjC37nMDBpQCGwY/s320/P7280120.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280931684156331042" border="0" /></a>All right, I lied. We never like to mislead our faithful followers, but in this case I had to. It just sounded too good: Spaghetti Sunrise. Nice right? But alas, it wasn't spaghetti, it was fusilli. You know, the curlicues. It´s amazing how hungry you´ll get while sailing at 6 a.m. just after putting down a mug of nuclear strength coffee - even with a belly full of fresh-caught fish tacos (the fish, not the tacos) from the night before. Sometimes the only thing to do is bust out some hearty leftovers and enjoy your last sunrise aboard Gypsy in style: accompanied by the birds and dolphins and a tupperware container full of fusilli (or spaghetti). A perfect moment in time; a Spaghetti Sunrise. Yum.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwp5ndVHEgKu6rIRqVEi9o3WQfGhoC5w1iRfJlyhgBN6E4TYzcDsnINSvHwgO-CIJXrK5w1OHPYeFx2UPa4101mhOJ3r72sy11g7577ZDfd3v373xi2pUs0wLA_PDSfSwM5bqmv28Gj9U/s1600-h/Danielle's+Pics+027.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwp5ndVHEgKu6rIRqVEi9o3WQfGhoC5w1iRfJlyhgBN6E4TYzcDsnINSvHwgO-CIJXrK5w1OHPYeFx2UPa4101mhOJ3r72sy11g7577ZDfd3v373xi2pUs0wLA_PDSfSwM5bqmv28Gj9U/s320/Danielle's+Pics+027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280925914972132322" border="0" /></a>I guess a good thing never lasts. Even in Mexico. Especially in Mexico. It wasn´t much more than 12 hours later that we pulled into Puerto Madero, my final destination by boat, and were promptly boarded by the Mexican navy to check our paperwork. Unfortunately for us we hadn´t amended our paperwork from our first attempt to leave Huatulco, so technically we hadn´t been in Mexico for the last week. Oh and a third person magically appeared onboard. Oops. Puerto Madero is, to be blunt, a miserable little port town chalk full of tetanus, I mean rusty shrimping boats. Well several hours and muchos pesos later all was resolved and Gypsy and I went our separate ways.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3XXLODwIFJ8OaVihBV89usxBr-9YKYGW320HE8UvwaWBISeX2V3vmMV0mxKWrwuCDnnPMWovs7ZIGZL0s4Vzr4M0eI05aH_prx2M_vOwx6q6c9OJEXOb4_skAY2rgq5RJym5xqNZhyphenhyphenz8/s1600-h/bon+voyage.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3XXLODwIFJ8OaVihBV89usxBr-9YKYGW320HE8UvwaWBISeX2V3vmMV0mxKWrwuCDnnPMWovs7ZIGZL0s4Vzr4M0eI05aH_prx2M_vOwx6q6c9OJEXOb4_skAY2rgq5RJym5xqNZhyphenhyphenz8/s320/bon+voyage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278982823974481922" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">With an unavoidable feeling of disappointment for having to cut things short, but a greater sense of pride for Gypsy and her crew having conquered a new challenge, I now pack my bags and head for home. Many thanks and good luck to all those who we´ve encountered along the way, especially to our captain and his ship, Justin and Gypsy - it´s been unforgetable. We may not have made it to Nicaragua but hey, the consolation prize ain´t bad; it´s snowing up north, and guess where I´m going. I´m going to Jackson...<br /></div>Eddiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05466479520386358171noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7110803141568598352.post-45199595496893339172008-11-22T11:05:00.000-08:002008-11-22T11:10:30.256-08:00Look where we´ve been!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEQSRacdmo9OQLgDNp99D5nol9tYTswbDwIZaBMsJe7Xo18qZvqe4HgyftlSvtfmTKNnLJrcc4UNgD550Hc-gJdEikrdVdJThbaetpktyaOtTZPZUDwh_hBd6K61WmM98ttpc8Txp6TTQ/s1600-h/look+where+we%27ve+been.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271561326834819522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 270px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEQSRacdmo9OQLgDNp99D5nol9tYTswbDwIZaBMsJe7Xo18qZvqe4HgyftlSvtfmTKNnLJrcc4UNgD550Hc-gJdEikrdVdJThbaetpktyaOtTZPZUDwh_hBd6K61WmM98ttpc8Txp6TTQ/s320/look+where+we%27ve+been.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Eddiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05466479520386358171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7110803141568598352.post-16014774821158026822008-11-21T14:32:00.000-08:002008-11-22T11:12:33.694-08:00Home away from home<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271526686865730354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg11XqRc6y3NsKPmpO1MQdlvee4NJ9SQ7ymIKjfs9so53hB9bInA8p4s1MfKRPaTwwZngmqtCQ4FzEgqJuE1Wz_zNBBtAGaxdmcBIk0zZeDvN90-pBbrtQXQUHg_s3A3WawV7ohUYErSAU/s320/IMG_0524.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><br />It´s a wildly exciting feeling to have the opportunity to both leave Cabo San Lucas (the $6 dollar beers left a slightly bitter taste in our mouths) and to sail 275 miles across the Sea of Cortez to meet up with some great friends from home in a sleepy little town in Mexico. Well, maybe sleepy´s not the appropriate adjective here. Sleep has never really been a big part of the gameplan in Jackson. I guess it should go without saying that the first R in R&R can´t be counted on when half of Jackson has been transplanted to Sayulita. Oh well, work hard (haha), play harder, right?<br />Our last view of Cabo, the famous rock arch, was a more than welcome sight when we finally shoved off.<br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271526090262749586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0jz6Wt5NhFqHymB-R6Y6zq7_KT2A9w0X9iR6F9QxTbVnnYLwos-cXu2ZreS6gsbwaUWqydPcB7hgYzo8xtHIFWVF6a_S79E7G_tBxm21U0Jmt3PChFwwVJlkzPp_BdTUh_6MvCORoDEQ/s320/IMG_0526.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><br />Another strangely exciting feeling (emphasis on strange) is to be attacked by water balloon pirates in the middle of the ocean! Having not seen another boat for nearly a day and a half - almost 150 miles from the nearest shore - we were suddenly under enemy fire from fellow Haha-ers J-World. And we thought we were friends! Fortunately the dousing was a welcome relief from the heat, and their attempts to steal our women and our beer were futile - we had no women and our three beers were bordering on bathwater temperature. HA! That´ll teach you pirates to mess with the Gypsy Kings!<br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271539374937734162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikrIHNx6eq4NQ-1-3ZkES_XWCn3QjG43-URRT3t37hIsuyYROGxJCM5I9tgEvjMAbBy_LobU1_vegrBeFjQoQQANvChv1EG5Fv_ie96YCWMwtGjnnd3aVvM81p3LjZVp4eQxPN0RU7dH8/s320/PB140298.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">Hey hey! Remember these crazy kids? Matt and Katy from the Baja Haha were actually the first to greet us upon arrival in Sayulita. Cruising from Cabo on the Poobah´s luxury catamaran, they arrived a day or so ahead of us and were relaxing on the porch of their beachside bungalow when they saw Gypsy poking along into the bay. Must say it was a pleasant surprise to be greeted on the VHF by a familiar voice after a long sail to uncharted territory.<br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271255345582229746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCf4e-2-ZCrZaIEeoW5SUv2LMxa1aqun5itkdV6whyphenhyphenFxHrk7GCZG7rMIsicouF0GeyNwe8tLKZ8MOyFBaT2TCD_DcJHyiPYMaaednCDolm9Y6Tdsh3Prx9-23wHK5OVshb5zGHfqD6x-U/s320/curbside.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><br />Ahhh, dry land. Time among good friends from home. Sayulita´s famous Tacos el Pastor. Can´t get much better than that, right? Oh wait, is that a bottle of tequila in your right hand, Eddie? What, this bottle? Tequila? In Mexico? Noooo. Well maybe, for better or for worse.<br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271255714463546178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitexGO2JpO7xRGRsQvaXvyqnMdcdhx459Ldz8z8BhsTVKpbpvUwZvtBuwlwb2v68rY35_PigH5EyFUgOrM6lqFZyHXXs1lMYL23YJIV1jEXXpP2pUc3Gzb3kvJLajx5DOvzPByQR8xzXo/s320/bar1.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><br />Deckhand Chad and a couple of our gracious hostesses, Amy and Katrina. Apparently our arrival in Sayulita was a much anticipated event, and as per usual we timed it perfectly. We got into to town on what was the last night in Mexico for several of the lovely Jackson ladies, so naturally had to celebrate both their departure and our arrival. And celebrate we did. Remember that bottle of tequila? Yeah, neither do we.<br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271317942683558866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo9Sp3PkM0FEetoA4al73Sywx2_JScl7Y2Cug5fODZQuaUYX1Z6FoPI_1pAMH4bekGYbl69kaQRmrJ1Ca00ezbr7SL4Cpky1JoAcs0nYn9hjB4A9vA_lF7F-V7aZVvbLE80MqS21FXxnY/s320/tekillya.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><br />Don´t be scurred, Amy. Margaritas are your friends. See, Noni´s got the idea.<br /><br /><br /></p><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWS-Rvo5eJ_SwNnhB50tTV5n9w_D7bJzdOObFKZfcvHEYJ9dGQ6uhrGei574WhZ1MbuXJHpwV9Sr2vkhNffvCPRn_dKXQA5Sqv5SJejxDlZTKW4o98lYNY3LK6xKPrcL3814iDWvjbH2E/s1600-h/beach+bums.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271259618998629890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWS-Rvo5eJ_SwNnhB50tTV5n9w_D7bJzdOObFKZfcvHEYJ9dGQ6uhrGei574WhZ1MbuXJHpwV9Sr2vkhNffvCPRn_dKXQA5Sqv5SJejxDlZTKW4o98lYNY3LK6xKPrcL3814iDWvjbH2E/s320/beach+bums.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />There´s no better way to burn off the fog of last night than catching a few breakfast waves before the rest of the beach bums wake up and paddle out. Seen here, real live surfer dudes and dudette.<br /></p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271258933006056626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf9Zi_2mUfiFEwlJkA1hPactqcMPMaQqKXhcmwb2ofQZYoPvgr3xDxhXgQ7sPaHd-ZIERNkGXZHJ54WItv2X_nf-RrS3GFQM3e6OX7EDn4Uty5A_8uFGPh59EpB56NGas_7myZRThnOJs/s320/pummeled.jpg" border="0" /><br />Take that, wave! </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271257307576352018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBoRjQ-Rlm0PQA-QsQMUMUY-wIAWNwL7h4-idcY-b6nhAd6x-Sk6gw1SfM-270ETYYUsnelIPHB3A8KAiAnjlLNXg6s81OniB5aB51iVlr0hZIU5aQ61Q-xmy7rTTKYnp5uvlgR6yY7Xo/s320/the+beach+is+that+way.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><br />Hey Eddie, which way to some killer waves? Oh, the waves are that way.<br /></p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271257002808603570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyTgWmgRpCjh86OpgJuBhR7Xdx_8mZMM5ELhm_gF3BnLdtyhZn6quZZL5gnfOI-0Xilc87jqJ9PNVEpN-UgvcJhClOK4otKOf-Hj4JbAOs3b5h8plBFOJAqq7P3lD6Ln1sznVdnc3rBC8/s320/surfer+girl.jpg" border="0" /><br />Amy. Shredding.</p><p><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271259857093994146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEpIj0-pTbQIw2PpJkYKJmHsVx9wCD_ekZh3vhF66uL1dwwRWl7GdnOWYo7a-PysNMzTm8zSvQOdFX9xNsIqOGWb_VozgD3H88bJ92Ll96hIDCMc6cV5UiuQuj-F4DlcO94EZ5tW5gGx8/s320/breakfast.jpg" border="0" /><br />You get really hungry after surfing for two hours before breakfast. Really hungry. MMM, Sally.<br /><p align="center"></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271549752880219970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-BCVwE0EOZqRNdlxgMzNN8MJMi7ysRs21D8FzkAjhGKtZQbFcCXNTsAvEccOzss136YDavBkDXdyvc5p_mgnRaancAEvdsodA8Gt2v5iP6xMG2-uzt1oqCYicMa15d5PlDekU0Vowd7U/s320/PB130296.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p align="center">Pangas line the beach in Sayulita.</p><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271256524326451858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib5jpRkcmySkxXHK5Fmow0EC83W7wRxTeaLtPkmoKHXGd_XJX-ehB0FzAGsVMXE8r171V2HGz_Tjzsfjk9rINjV2CAiYWBf6CuWWQbs0jgmeiUa9IONw1i3ctnYFJP0pRO7C-MeysFWvI/s320/sisters+jimmerson.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center">The Sisters Jimmerson. Stay classy girls.<br /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271256155888944130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXuP8fxyDLv8pxTRY1xTottdSy36qDZUjfjJ3Vki3AYlZfhfrdQZDLk_0WqByeIUCKz7rRbTjdGpkIfXAO2891IEVo2zxOca6Oav37kQ4RbvNcsrNMxZRoOO3ocdq2oVJNPTufMBo9wDE/s320/hey+you!.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center">Speaking of classy, Sayulita didn´t know what it was getting itself into when it invited the Gypsy crew ashore.<br /></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKA6N8Zmtrs-5NqsNOvFMrnB60afL-IYB0viOKf6nqmPkmPTACxdq04B-Ak3Ywh6PDHoVrT19PkST06jYxvX1NywphzF7dXrZBM41U89FMmow7j8Gog-mPqaGM8V7VNSVhyphenhyphenYG9SePtYP0/s1600-h/gypsytime.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271316381268040162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKA6N8Zmtrs-5NqsNOvFMrnB60afL-IYB0viOKf6nqmPkmPTACxdq04B-Ak3Ywh6PDHoVrT19PkST06jYxvX1NywphzF7dXrZBM41U89FMmow7j8Gog-mPqaGM8V7VNSVhyphenhyphenYG9SePtYP0/s320/gypsytime.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The unfortunate thing about having a sailboat is that people are constantly trying to bum rides from you to really crummy places like surf breaks, deserted islands, and golden sand beaches. Seriously a bummer. Our last day in Sayulita we decided that maybe it wouldn´t hurt to let in and bring these hooligans along to a surf spot just up the coast. Boy were we wrong! Worst day ever - you can just see the agony and disgust in our faces.<br /></p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271316773872529410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvZYTKWBqajtUu-WSaEjvOUNdvs6g2GVWjQn2eN0f8-_8VjghGuD9vb29JiUwkjTgVjqbVAAJw3N4iUCNsSQWFS7ouXLqYAMScKOQUeb4g23zte3zG7zsrHTX8wF1lczwYZd4H_GXnOPU/s320/chadnamy.jpg" border="0" /><br />Amy and Chad struggling through another day aboard Gypsy in sunny Sayulita.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwImwD7e3cvfqe2pMuYNBr8sTZ-fXBNDI1E2XynYEEIDCNopQklnka8KuvExj7W25ChmBP4MtoQesMdtdrIrTUGXvIa-REMmE2enhOf67yGPr4TpwbyEnaZPrjKvr_ibiCfe-FMKWwWPE/s1600-h/IMG_0533.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271525669072008770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwImwD7e3cvfqe2pMuYNBr8sTZ-fXBNDI1E2XynYEEIDCNopQklnka8KuvExj7W25ChmBP4MtoQesMdtdrIrTUGXvIa-REMmE2enhOf67yGPr4TpwbyEnaZPrjKvr_ibiCfe-FMKWwWPE/s320/IMG_0533.jpg" border="0" /></a> Well eventually we had to leave Sayulita and move south along the coast to Zihuatanejo. Fortunately for us we got there on Thursday and Thursdays are Pozole Days! If you´ve never tried this speciality of the state of Guerrero, it is highly recomended. A spicy stew made with chicken or pork, onions, jalepenos, hominy, and all the additional fixings you could want to make it to your liking, it is an absolutely delicious dish well deserving of it´s own weekly holiday.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCOvS5GgZlluv7ermiXH0NBGCDiUkFkHFWB7e2ZEbxn8IttOF-J5EaIu8Y0UQyYLpL9_Z4k9xa9iwZyjGxOlDApxqVojI_9hZh6anwpoie1pxPZ_C01GasLUkY3TqxitM6ozD6kotDvjc/s1600-h/IMG_0532.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271525026817038530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCOvS5GgZlluv7ermiXH0NBGCDiUkFkHFWB7e2ZEbxn8IttOF-J5EaIu8Y0UQyYLpL9_Z4k9xa9iwZyjGxOlDApxqVojI_9hZh6anwpoie1pxPZ_C01GasLUkY3TqxitM6ozD6kotDvjc/s320/IMG_0532.jpg" border="0" /></a>These lovely ladies serve up some of the cheapest, tastiest, and heartiest servings of pozole in all of Zihua. No reservations needed, but get there early if you want to be fed because their pozole goes fast! </p><br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271551317373364658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFxNhkySYzS-BioIkpkfSl8XOgsgpjs1MElfmRmyVyXFAJDgxZGiOhK2-731cgubR9Iu0aPXqIyGz4UvVR4cYD31z0X732OmORwqx14eJb5unfIlEXeRca5HybWRApJQ-VhTiGbBVgEg8/s320/PB190329.JPG" border="0" />Right next to Zihuatanejo is a the resort town of Ixtapa, which was created by the Mexican tourism board because they thought that Mexico was in need of another Cancun style resort town on the Pacific coast. First of all, Mexico, I think one Cancun in the world is enough Cancun for everyone. And second of all if you really have to build another one at least do it right. Not one wet t-shirt contest was witnessed in our stay in Ixtapa. I, for one, am very disappointed. The one saving grace for Ixtapa is that their marina is infested with giant crocodiles. Not good for swimming, but like wet t-shirt constests, fun to look at.<br /></p><br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271554537152896274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhodYq562ph8EO_tFh1QiAhW-TIUcRdrObvIqVtqIhXw7D4ClY1jIm6jMEd9a1oikLmn4WIEAhR67lLa-cK51Zro628GJW-iw5ZaRKsidkk9F9hIDnIWNOKu3CsRVaNRoXzIEmih578TVI/s320/PB190327.JPG" border="0" /></p><p align="center">Mexicans take their tequila seriously and so do we. Our tequila somellier, Brisa, helped us select the best tequila available with some very prudent advice: the best tequila is the one that tastes best to you. Just like wine, you can get a good sense for flavor with the nose. I´m picking up an essence of salt and lime here. Mmm, delicious. </p><p align="center">With high spirits after spending a few days in what seems to be the consensus favorite town in Mexico so far, we leave Zihuatanejo for Acapulco and then the last leg of our Mexican cruising with Guatemala, El Salvador, and Nicaragua still to come. But don´t worry, we´ll keep you in the loop. Salud!</p><p></p>Eddiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05466479520386358171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7110803141568598352.post-35480500160713565272008-11-08T13:33:00.000-08:002008-11-10T11:13:33.034-08:00The Life Aquatic<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhBj75lMQ8lbVtSxrvmdfUSVun4R_nHwwMR1jwSXBuJq0z8gETfmZo0bvcr5EgovW_VfU2l3laEoupRKjWvP6oX3xGJ3kiRngeJq7tBQmZ1MzYYRIkrN1vZ8shyphenhyphenf64klb15E2VwFqYk1A/s1600-h/PA260093.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhBj75lMQ8lbVtSxrvmdfUSVun4R_nHwwMR1jwSXBuJq0z8gETfmZo0bvcr5EgovW_VfU2l3laEoupRKjWvP6oX3xGJ3kiRngeJq7tBQmZ1MzYYRIkrN1vZ8shyphenhyphenf64klb15E2VwFqYk1A/s320/PA260093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266404272212283410" border="0" /></a>
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<br />We celebrated Halloween, albeit a few days early, with the kick-off party for the Baja Ha-ha. There's nothing like a six hundred person parking lot party, complete with free beer and Mexican food. The Superkids were disguised in the stealthiest of costumes, as Team Zissou from the inspirational film The Life Aquatic.
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIKuFQHxvRMU69AEh4itOCVbhZuMJKOe3adSuUUbOp0QJXpkFkLeuTP34CQMTVrXd_VXqFNbpclOPb5Pb_WwQTZ2Y1cXdcbv6L6MFz0ur8juIulUjv8cqDKyz2H87QvSmyzhpZk3xk3uA/s1600-h/PA260099.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIKuFQHxvRMU69AEh4itOCVbhZuMJKOe3adSuUUbOp0QJXpkFkLeuTP34CQMTVrXd_VXqFNbpclOPb5Pb_WwQTZ2Y1cXdcbv6L6MFz0ur8juIulUjv8cqDKyz2H87QvSmyzhpZk3xk3uA/s320/PA260099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266423116459009314" border="0" /></a>This is Kathy and her cat Carpet Sample. We learned a valuable lesson from Kathy on this day: When hitchiking, don't accept rides from crazy ladies who are driving in the opposite direction of your preferred destination. We were on the verge of just walking back to the boat after having no luck hitching a ride when Kathy stopped to pick us up, so we gladly accepted the ride. We realized things were amiss when she, a) started speeding up every time we approached a stop sign; b) told us first that we couldn't get out of the car and then that we could get out and walk only when we were at least 5 miles farther away from the boat than where we started, and; c) that she had to stop at the store to get tampons but we could wait in the car!
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmzoVAYFkF3SVEyb0sGCRZdkcilMZaGDbM8gr5tN6hPF4kB5v1G-9EFZTO4rumlAirUTbahzVP-jH_aL9ZQ9ClmpLUA5T-_Lif3wiYMv_kBgnALsStQNjTM4dHZnvId9wrrjrObuhioy4/s1600-h/PA260097.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmzoVAYFkF3SVEyb0sGCRZdkcilMZaGDbM8gr5tN6hPF4kB5v1G-9EFZTO4rumlAirUTbahzVP-jH_aL9ZQ9ClmpLUA5T-_Lif3wiYMv_kBgnALsStQNjTM4dHZnvId9wrrjrObuhioy4/s320/PA260097.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266412901558951506" border="0" /></a>Finally we decided to go to her house to meet her cats and drink some tequilla - apparently she hadn't met her pre-happy hour quota yet. There weren't any parking spaces on the street but fortunately no one had taken the spot on her front yard. PHEW!
<br />When it was all said and done we had a pretty hilarious story and a few free shots of tequila in us, but it definitely wasn't what we bargained for when we stuck our thumbs out to head back to the boat from the Halloween party.
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<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieSGbYekkjtys8IBlopJL4GhV8w7NEjHYS1w_xfIqp3mWgj_TOc8M1lCPVrevdtkyxGpSBbqUUK2AlpdAIAIc-bNjFclHsDKrM2gmol9Ucn496OTmiENuJdBLA8fDk1bd3LZ46lm1zW_c/s1600-h/PA270106.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieSGbYekkjtys8IBlopJL4GhV8w7NEjHYS1w_xfIqp3mWgj_TOc8M1lCPVrevdtkyxGpSBbqUUK2AlpdAIAIc-bNjFclHsDKrM2gmol9Ucn496OTmiENuJdBLA8fDk1bd3LZ46lm1zW_c/s320/PA270106.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266424700533219682" border="0" /></a>Got a bit of a late start to the Ha-ha, but when we did finally shove off the wind was blowing, the sun was shining and the boats with spinnakers that had taken off on time (just a couple of hours earlier) were a mere 400 miles ahead of us. Seen here, el Capitan, Justin, and Chad pulling out of San Diego.
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<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJWWvJj_r7_WNmXx0JydGsg8c8mUwcdApDz8Zwqyy3j9cFoqtTdTYhUtSSa998o_vbdqdzGAYjOzL2B0wKlgrnOSUe8R7NGsg3mThHQ5Z-Sh5oYyRwwTfgYjDJXYCayMZaF92aogAYBQ/s1600-h/PA280109.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJWWvJj_r7_WNmXx0JydGsg8c8mUwcdApDz8Zwqyy3j9cFoqtTdTYhUtSSa998o_vbdqdzGAYjOzL2B0wKlgrnOSUe8R7NGsg3mThHQ5Z-Sh5oYyRwwTfgYjDJXYCayMZaF92aogAYBQ/s320/PA280109.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266426936529871794" border="0" /></a>
<br />Our second day out was one for the record books: three ahi, one wahoo, a yellowtail, and one three foot shark. The shark looked tasty, but to his eyes so did our hands. Pretty sure he would have been munching on some human hand sashimi for lunch if we hadn't cut that line. Oh well, five fish in a day ain't bad.
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWNha8bvMe8PxbPGvC1nyzkqby8mX__c2BZDVM9RAIuH4dgpQvSlfnidBA6heqZatzAZA5rqR2dtfpatykDqY6WdXLgCfsf4AcjeeV9Q0FmlfJcxhoUB5jdvPmiAoxzTqsaO1dlUklBag/s1600-h/Picture+099.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWNha8bvMe8PxbPGvC1nyzkqby8mX__c2BZDVM9RAIuH4dgpQvSlfnidBA6heqZatzAZA5rqR2dtfpatykDqY6WdXLgCfsf4AcjeeV9Q0FmlfJcxhoUB5jdvPmiAoxzTqsaO1dlUklBag/s320/Picture+099.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266848213631777522" border="0" /></a>
<br /><div style="text-align: center;">This fish actually caught Chad. Up on deck we spotted some fish jumping off the port beam, and within seconds of having a line out we hooked a 40 pound yellow-fin tuna. I think the speed with which the whole event took place was a bit of a shock to all parties involved, fish and fisher alike - notice the similar facial expressions.
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<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgquZacg5J94PYW48o7bFGVte3N1P7ShLyaVV0qeCrZBh0VdFYhcITpKyJ63gwCg4Squ3r8x6X-zWeGiCxCa9o3O-DlwMHsUsTYXR320gWaUaGHXncMlGF2pqTBpZSbkxG9QKvYy-vv43g/s1600-h/PA280114.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgquZacg5J94PYW48o7bFGVte3N1P7ShLyaVV0qeCrZBh0VdFYhcITpKyJ63gwCg4Squ3r8x6X-zWeGiCxCa9o3O-DlwMHsUsTYXR320gWaUaGHXncMlGF2pqTBpZSbkxG9QKvYy-vv43g/s320/PA280114.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266429560882960930" border="0" /></a>
<br />We love fish, but Justin loooooooves fish.
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<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkoVK1AhlBbVgIIInMSSFTN9Ko1rwKWNqmQNdJAu1rgrPYQFvvufDJc9M0LWtHltAHu3IpKuMUhaAY4z2Y7a3RUnZIJvoOiWxGbRws0PhXvT5YQuFOZrYNKRS-jUfDsDb9Tltb8rSPmMc/s1600-h/PA280110.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkoVK1AhlBbVgIIInMSSFTN9Ko1rwKWNqmQNdJAu1rgrPYQFvvufDJc9M0LWtHltAHu3IpKuMUhaAY4z2Y7a3RUnZIJvoOiWxGbRws0PhXvT5YQuFOZrYNKRS-jUfDsDb9Tltb8rSPmMc/s320/PA280110.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266427445388529138" border="0" /></a>It can get a little gory sometimes when you reel one in. Case in point, fish numero uno. No one on board had ever hooked a tuna before, let alone attempt to kill and fillet one. So our first catch was a little ugly. We'll spare you the details, but the highlight of the horror show was probably when our fish coughed up its still-beating heard onto the deck. Yikes!
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_uyUHq5C9W3XomNOrrJTslB05OoqKR3HTLsxF58jVIEhGBC9PCf0g2nDtCOtKZRPQi9TlN0IvzRLbKVggJH2RYI7FDTqFH7pyYRhSHeW4kcJcZrkyCfIOodfFgh_BwqLcug_ajsgSXaw/s1600-h/PA280112.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_uyUHq5C9W3XomNOrrJTslB05OoqKR3HTLsxF58jVIEhGBC9PCf0g2nDtCOtKZRPQi9TlN0IvzRLbKVggJH2RYI7FDTqFH7pyYRhSHeW4kcJcZrkyCfIOodfFgh_BwqLcug_ajsgSXaw/s320/PA280112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266428020884294562" border="0" /></a>It may not have been the most humane kill, but we lacked in fish killing know-how, we more than made up for in fish eating skills. That fish made for some tasty sashimi. We're really good at eating fish.
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<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0V1NHy_Avf3ggUkDE1JoJbQHPmldrqu-U4BlNiDfsguoK35bRP63LFnKSThES-yYdoz3uCm0_owHp_0ZY_6xGmgRHY3ugfi3xuVJLLowRR_rXhQnLAi5anH5YCXjwgIp_w2i8HIqAV7w/s1600-h/PA310151.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0V1NHy_Avf3ggUkDE1JoJbQHPmldrqu-U4BlNiDfsguoK35bRP63LFnKSThES-yYdoz3uCm0_owHp_0ZY_6xGmgRHY3ugfi3xuVJLLowRR_rXhQnLAi5anH5YCXjwgIp_w2i8HIqAV7w/s320/PA310151.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266860021724587186" border="0" /></a>The weird thing about sailing into Mexico like we did is that for the first three days we were in the country we really didn't see any changes in culture, language, or surroundings - it's still just three white kids and a boat. But when we finally did set foot on Mexican soil in the little town of Bahia Tortuga (Turtle Bay) about halfway down the Baja, we were greeted by smiling faces, friendly and helpful people, and a much needed cold cervesa. As glad as we were to be on dry land after four days and three nights of sailing, there is no doubt that the locals looked forward to our arrival just as much. Our last night in town they put on a party in their brand new town plaza, built thanks in a large part, I'm sure, to the huge influx of cash that the Ha-ha fleet brings to this little town every year. On display were colorful shrines in celebration of Dia de los Muertos, delicious street food, and some scary costumes.
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<br />Did I say scary? I think I meant scary cute.
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<br />Picture, picture. This local was taking pictures of the tourists.
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<br /><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CJustin%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibOuUQWZoHAxtrM3e04KIXZj21aA_KcxqdnR3Um5tGoXKhX1SaFnjkG5Tuhge8GmfgPgG3OWXrSq0LacOGs9Bm9D91ioYyVY7IaQOwmeIUkl6v23p5TKz2YD6T6bFffbyuSWRYbr2WPKY/s1600-h/PB040217.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibOuUQWZoHAxtrM3e04KIXZj21aA_KcxqdnR3Um5tGoXKhX1SaFnjkG5Tuhge8GmfgPgG3OWXrSq0LacOGs9Bm9D91ioYyVY7IaQOwmeIUkl6v23p5TKz2YD6T6bFffbyuSWRYbr2WPKY/s320/PB040217.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266813506234473746" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Our homie Eric, doing the roof top boogie at Bahia Santa Maria.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">James Dumm, if you’re reading this, and I hope you are-</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">this is your long lost twin brother that happens to be twenty years older than you.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">Eric, you’re the quite possibly the coolest dude to ever don the utili-kilt, keep spreading the love, brother!</span></p>
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD8WMGc4n3eKN6V-ZLkN6qmAc4ck3Oz-GIdw0bkrxPlLh-4hSoLtqgP7GyvhFoeEarQtwiNKBgZKZk3ko0w-WPgppBCj0I06xVmHBJoxz_MLYNkhRLZR0Grf9UOUHBzdlfPtpHUhDyKKA/s1600-h/PB040221.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD8WMGc4n3eKN6V-ZLkN6qmAc4ck3Oz-GIdw0bkrxPlLh-4hSoLtqgP7GyvhFoeEarQtwiNKBgZKZk3ko0w-WPgppBCj0I06xVmHBJoxz_MLYNkhRLZR0Grf9UOUHBzdlfPtpHUhDyKKA/s320/PB040221.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266446984583238658" border="0" /></a><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CJustin%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C03%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="date"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="country-region"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="State"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal"><st1:date year="2008" day="4" month="11">November 4<sup>th</sup>, 2008-</st1:date> Election day in Bahia Santa Maria, <st1:place><st1:city>Baja Sur</st1:city>, <st1:country-region>Mexico</st1:country-region></st1:place>.<span style=""> </span>Wow- needless to say, we felt pretty far removed from the rest of <st1:country-region><st1:place>America</st1:place></st1:country-region>.<span style=""> </span>It’s amazing what traveling 550 miles (not to mention the conga line) can do to your state of mind.<span style=""> </span>In spite of the beach party, everyone still had the significance of the day in the back of their mind.<span style=""> </span>Even though our votes may not have meant much to the incredibly republican state of <st1:state><st1:place>Wyoming</st1:place></st1:state>, it paid off on our adventure in <st1:place>Latin America</st1:place>.<span style=""> </span>We spotted a beautiful girl handing out “I Voted” stickers and immediately jumped on the opportunity. As luck would have it, that encounter led to us meeting some of the best people in the entire Baja Haha.<span style=""> </span>I think this is the appropriate time to shout out to the entire crew of Reverence, Jason, Colleen and Anita, thanks for everything, you are amazing- we’ll never forget you three- hope we cross paths in the future ‘cause our time together was not nearly enough.</p>
<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOn0jAY1TaIpshOJiz0hyphenhyphent6N9ty2HAXwgjch0-EG1_YxwIehbqWFzrB7T0oKUx1j00irA6JecyYQxHfth2oNw8blztqgPTSNw-vHMdRyYLjEdHRJOUFyKt4PM1BYUEsPtpGeokIRmSTwI/s1600-h/PB040220.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOn0jAY1TaIpshOJiz0hyphenhyphent6N9ty2HAXwgjch0-EG1_YxwIehbqWFzrB7T0oKUx1j00irA6JecyYQxHfth2oNw8blztqgPTSNw-vHMdRyYLjEdHRJOUFyKt4PM1BYUEsPtpGeokIRmSTwI/s320/PB040220.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266446342066085234" border="0" /></a>Speaking of unforgettable - another shoutout is in order for these two scaliwags, and the rest of the Lunasea crew for that matter. Katy, Matt, Dave, Dave, and Johnson, Don Johnson (yes it's his real name) here's to ya, you ridiculous pirates! We can't say enough about how great everyone we met on the Ha-ha was. Genuinely good people who take an interest in other people and are willing to drop everything to lend a hand. We couldn't have kicked off this voyage in a better way with a better group of people. Take care Ha-haers!
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<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNxZ7OzOZ45owUMStKVsFZTdvJez63ymfxRrolscuZzQt_BqdYXGxB3M5te4BZSumifpOZsp6yd7TxYYMCQV-VBmHD_PvwlXgGcRI_LtgXli85UZa19nsT8DwQZWWuQi8Y2nlK44nXU9s/s1600-h/PB030195.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNxZ7OzOZ45owUMStKVsFZTdvJez63ymfxRrolscuZzQt_BqdYXGxB3M5te4BZSumifpOZsp6yd7TxYYMCQV-VBmHD_PvwlXgGcRI_LtgXli85UZa19nsT8DwQZWWuQi8Y2nlK44nXU9s/s320/PB030195.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266442997749564498" border="0" /></a>Our fleet anchored in Bahia Santa Maria. Gypsy is the little white one in the middle. See her?
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<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSsLFAKU3vIL6d20Uu4xt_xjc30alZDPbPIr_SnGMsD6eKWTR0p7hNl8DV4SZodKRnfSkOSJEciED6GgU9_IhMIfb8OiWQitGI_PFEra1_a_-g2cBlPufk04VjfHsZvRhpOfIY5FWrLOY/s1600-h/PB030211.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSsLFAKU3vIL6d20Uu4xt_xjc30alZDPbPIr_SnGMsD6eKWTR0p7hNl8DV4SZodKRnfSkOSJEciED6GgU9_IhMIfb8OiWQitGI_PFEra1_a_-g2cBlPufk04VjfHsZvRhpOfIY5FWrLOY/s320/PB030211.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266445092532439634" border="0" /></a>The hills encircling Bahia Santa Maria seemed to be calling to us the day we arrived, so we decided to put down the Modelos for a bit and take some advice offered in the Ha-ha literature from our fearless leader, the Grand Poobah:
<br />"While the climate in Mexico is great for drinking, it's even better for the healthy outdoor life and getting yourself into better shape than you've been in years. We all know the formula: Walk a couple of miles a day, swim a mile a day, eat well and drink in moderation. And we all know the results: less weight, lower blood pressure, greater endurance, wilder sex, and better general health."
<br />We just needed a little dryland training before ski season, but hey, it couldn't hurt to lower my blood pressure a bit because I have been strressssed.
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinm5i01-B2El39E7I5tHjHimHaQJB4M6ebIV8TOLJtOR2bRTfS2VSGhIZ-9xHr3I7_5rLzdBum4IpeOJHBxLEVHmsCDbvhFTpr3u1NhZXMx1Nab3Li_6QSX_9h2emcDW93wXQ-yWRV7i0/s1600-h/Picture+094.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinm5i01-B2El39E7I5tHjHimHaQJB4M6ebIV8TOLJtOR2bRTfS2VSGhIZ-9xHr3I7_5rLzdBum4IpeOJHBxLEVHmsCDbvhFTpr3u1NhZXMx1Nab3Li_6QSX_9h2emcDW93wXQ-yWRV7i0/s320/Picture+094.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266863175605587186" border="0" /></a>
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<br />Not Gypsy. We don't believe in indulging in luxuries like flying spinnakers or sailing fast.
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<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwGyfD5nh_AL1OxCzaFZkH9zLFSJOxvTnpXgCC3RHPxs2k-ErQ5wGOQZVp7v8dc1Hd1r045-cegdf-X3tG5_wMb9TiZPcKJMWIlRfq53msfI1OpuUKH1Fe4j3epDO0KDKGV9rU3s5BvlY/s1600-h/PB010170.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwGyfD5nh_AL1OxCzaFZkH9zLFSJOxvTnpXgCC3RHPxs2k-ErQ5wGOQZVp7v8dc1Hd1r045-cegdf-X3tG5_wMb9TiZPcKJMWIlRfq53msfI1OpuUKH1Fe4j3epDO0KDKGV9rU3s5BvlY/s320/PB010170.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266440490917315522" border="0" /></a>Whachoo want, wave? Doesn't look like much here, but we hit some pretty heavy seas on the second leg. 25 knot winds and 10 foot swell. The worst of it didn't come until after the sun dipped below the horizon, but we could capture our badassness on camera under the cover of darkness.
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<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-bGf8_J7tAzB7ovtx_seWl2wgRszuZCETDeWN6B5a_hsE8zsQpMiIb-Fu2STnvwb-LYg4-4Gm-gcLpvVFq0DRWOsNP0NPOIkWuzwa2YPOducgy0krxOz4JalNYF-0jsDK2H_SU7rNTiI/s1600-h/Picture+079.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-bGf8_J7tAzB7ovtx_seWl2wgRszuZCETDeWN6B5a_hsE8zsQpMiIb-Fu2STnvwb-LYg4-4Gm-gcLpvVFq0DRWOsNP0NPOIkWuzwa2YPOducgy0krxOz4JalNYF-0jsDK2H_SU7rNTiI/s320/Picture+079.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266852779283926850" border="0" /></a>Dolphins love Gypsy, and Gypsy loves dolphins. There's something soothing about a pod of dolphins swimming off your bow. And there were lots of them. One early morning we were surrounded by at least 200 of them. I'm being serial. It was awesome.
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<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Uj5G06yNsXC5AfSHLmuTwhliwT9QkOWumY4HuhOoPyndps5H1_BsLlCGmV7pghg3FArN_ZS3jKeI0YSsKhkoOw3Nsf4VyYxOrP3sHpCBkHScOey44eIxP1TBWrEPoP5cDDKje0nuZrQ/s1600-h/PA300145.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Uj5G06yNsXC5AfSHLmuTwhliwT9QkOWumY4HuhOoPyndps5H1_BsLlCGmV7pghg3FArN_ZS3jKeI0YSsKhkoOw3Nsf4VyYxOrP3sHpCBkHScOey44eIxP1TBWrEPoP5cDDKje0nuZrQ/s320/PA300145.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266854119574600146" border="0" /></a><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Justin/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" />Here's one "getting some air." At one point we had a brief but insightful conversation about the phenomenon of jumping dolphins. It went something like this:
<br />Chad: "I wonder why dolphins do that"
<br />Eddie: "I think it's so they can get some air"
<br />Chad: "Cool, dolphins like to send it, too!"
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<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWEPSJq20rinegRCXXI4SqgrCfoAwF3p74tUqDNk0a348zMnxfXLgJgD0FWzLAxu3ik6HLbAMOIXH-FCgaCdZkDeHV-yke_c8fPjDwmr06wI9qumGHPgjRrLdw_hG3HSi_Op_EaQHyQ2A/s1600-h/PA290133.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWEPSJq20rinegRCXXI4SqgrCfoAwF3p74tUqDNk0a348zMnxfXLgJgD0FWzLAxu3ik6HLbAMOIXH-FCgaCdZkDeHV-yke_c8fPjDwmr06wI9qumGHPgjRrLdw_hG3HSi_Op_EaQHyQ2A/s320/PA290133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266430816131216754" border="0" /></a>Yet another beauteous sunset from aboard Gypsy. There seems to be a trend developing here. Next stop: Mainland Mexico.
<br />Hasta luego!
<br /></div>Eddiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05466479520386358171noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7110803141568598352.post-2852385248347814922008-10-26T09:11:00.000-07:002008-10-27T11:54:43.606-07:00Vintage...not old<div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG8voSQ81mJFDvpYXcK4yTHT743ZVFwuu6IbCZGc8D3GVlBk-5b7AclAOrOhYVfdyDVCMjjAm7ybEBpN0Ll09XjzI-bDGkBGHpi__bw8mBTj6VoErxm2BgruZyzQUoxbsjBy-g-bCR9X4/s1600-h/IMG_0414%5B1%5D"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG8voSQ81mJFDvpYXcK4yTHT743ZVFwuu6IbCZGc8D3GVlBk-5b7AclAOrOhYVfdyDVCMjjAm7ybEBpN0Ll09XjzI-bDGkBGHpi__bw8mBTj6VoErxm2BgruZyzQUoxbsjBy-g-bCR9X4/s320/IMG_0414%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261526761104571314" border="0" /></a>Once upon a time, on an early summer's day in Jackson, Wyoming Eddie got a phone call. Much to his surprise it was his old pal from college, Justin. While delighted to hear from his long-lost buddy, Eddie wondered what on earth inspired Justin to call him on that sunny day. Well, Justin explained, he was sailing to Nicaragua in the fall - moving there, in fact - and he was in need of some crew to make the voyage. "Hell yes!" thought Eddie. When Chad caught wind (pun intended) of this epic journey he echoed Eddie's thoughts. "Hell yes!" said Chad. And then it was on.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgb4a4TLMrwW85cEBLivurkVU6_eXqLBRdWRnht6szXlnlkqLouPw4-7K9E70VHxgEqFXQO0VHlacd0NVc4vgngeKTwGTesWOptlgKYxkoUGy4VUpUQ4hRJbxiJIRMBfx4bTVbMqlQF8/s1600-h/IMG_0415%5B1%5D"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgb4a4TLMrwW85cEBLivurkVU6_eXqLBRdWRnht6szXlnlkqLouPw4-7K9E70VHxgEqFXQO0VHlacd0NVc4vgngeKTwGTesWOptlgKYxkoUGy4VUpUQ4hRJbxiJIRMBfx4bTVbMqlQF8/s320/IMG_0415%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261523880314574978" border="0" /></a>Just the week before we took off Jackson got 5 inches of pow (see above photo of white stuff blanketing front yard). In early October. Shnikeys. Too bad we had to go sailing. HAHA!<br />We started off the trip with a bang - thanks to some Amangani Grill connections - with a behind the scenes tour of Seven Hills winery in Walla Walla, Washington. Say that 10 times fast. We camped in a wheat field just outside of town before the fermentation began.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQPxNc8vSKQmIcvT_dl5qQgdD5qRyVOW1H8DyONbegnLzWWjhFUZISXPz-pjAqpPnnAkLHz9NYtMN8Eu7A9ffj4HKwjK5GVDiDPEeTbiF-4MikgZ87_mmY9CS5alYzt4aPO26xQ-_2eYE/s1600-h/IMG_0416%5B1%5D"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQPxNc8vSKQmIcvT_dl5qQgdD5qRyVOW1H8DyONbegnLzWWjhFUZISXPz-pjAqpPnnAkLHz9NYtMN8Eu7A9ffj4HKwjK5GVDiDPEeTbiF-4MikgZ87_mmY9CS5alYzt4aPO26xQ-_2eYE/s320/IMG_0416%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261524468945518418" border="0" /></a><br />The experts at work crushing and destemming a fresh batch of fruit. Mmmmm.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigdUTH2jDHaUTXvGJR0IXVPGeRZIURnG7KSV2TfzXunVZ3wtbinErHCV6oyvvhs-0pjAtsIJQ2TD96q0yXh58vPZeYXBMv0MaUJeEO3aQP6qjBKLI6Iyl5NyuW9-9e3Mf5N1TZRI3M0DA/s1600-h/IMG_0421%5B1%5D"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigdUTH2jDHaUTXvGJR0IXVPGeRZIURnG7KSV2TfzXunVZ3wtbinErHCV6oyvvhs-0pjAtsIJQ2TD96q0yXh58vPZeYXBMv0MaUJeEO3aQP6qjBKLI6Iyl5NyuW9-9e3Mf5N1TZRI3M0DA/s320/IMG_0421%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261526231808137410" border="0" /></a>The winemaker himself, Casey, took us out to one of the Seven Hills vineyards to pick up a load of their '08 malbec. They're pretty tasty grapes right off the vine, but give them a week or so to ferment and a year in some Hungarian oak and they turn downright delicious.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJmDKF0Wdzkq67-8MWIkGV5MC0tAH7tMJGUUUmfkeI8P486GrgXtDt17JA-yOVcRUUD6DZ5RnRQkyVPKcbDYypzD2L0T5kSRR44lAIWE4X8Na-2pI-4wD9qzBU8CWZG_brapV5-zGtJqY/s1600-h/New+Image.BMP"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJmDKF0Wdzkq67-8MWIkGV5MC0tAH7tMJGUUUmfkeI8P486GrgXtDt17JA-yOVcRUUD6DZ5RnRQkyVPKcbDYypzD2L0T5kSRR44lAIWE4X8Na-2pI-4wD9qzBU8CWZG_brapV5-zGtJqY/s320/New+Image.BMP" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261534589240050130" border="0" /></a>Chadillac working his magic with a big batch of grapes. You thought wine making was all fun and games? Well it is. Or at least it seems to be, for the most part. Everyone we met at the winery and the vineyard was extremely nice and truly seemed to enjoy what they do. But how could you not enjoy what you do if what you do is make wine for a living? That hospitality didn't save us from some hard manual labor though.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7RzErbmanewNdriBr0Uw4ql5waRN8NYEmK0YeMuWoxXPADIG0M7nXt6lTwiokeftHrtYwYfZ2UMM12BMg1NAQEAWGllvo_d5CF9IfYU7HnP-6zevibsNTNIlDC1_BKN4djQnBudGJZjo/s1600-h/IMG_0428%5B1%5D"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7RzErbmanewNdriBr0Uw4ql5waRN8NYEmK0YeMuWoxXPADIG0M7nXt6lTwiokeftHrtYwYfZ2UMM12BMg1NAQEAWGllvo_d5CF9IfYU7HnP-6zevibsNTNIlDC1_BKN4djQnBudGJZjo/s320/IMG_0428%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261528936469413170" border="0" /></a>"Punching" the grapes - a crucial element of the wine-making process - helps circulate the skins and juices to help the fermentation along. Can't wait see the fruits of our labor in a couple years. Thanks guys!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJuP1NCZk8Fwakaxnj1A2zjx9w5t6n6qzikA8aCyog8VLGSAtORGwf3QaI2bdbR18PCGtoG8udRYdXz_EezIMkAOgttP2324mnUb0TyCf3IrRfI8mbJmgww0vRaj8YjQlYtiRue3fhCwk/s1600-h/IMG_0437%5B1%5D"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJuP1NCZk8Fwakaxnj1A2zjx9w5t6n6qzikA8aCyog8VLGSAtORGwf3QaI2bdbR18PCGtoG8udRYdXz_EezIMkAOgttP2324mnUb0TyCf3IrRfI8mbJmgww0vRaj8YjQlYtiRue3fhCwk/s320/IMG_0437%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261528101197168594" border="0" /></a>From the winery in Walla Walla, Washington we whisked off wicked fast to Portland for all too brief visit with family and friends and then started our drive south through the Redwoods and down the California coast toward San Francisco. We decided to document our first sight of the ocean we'll be spending the next month and a half sailing. Hey there Pacific. What's crackin'?<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCMcySg08Cp08UdWQZLBDdRFQFnv6hemiie-RdRLjKzX45ICkxZtC8sgNY8RVZiZXfPsMmitetL_Abp2RV_9-kUDikyUvtgpRd9jsrNp5BQFKF1DL4pQodji9DrnW35-DAlW6qfzi6Mok/s1600-h/PA190029.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCMcySg08Cp08UdWQZLBDdRFQFnv6hemiie-RdRLjKzX45ICkxZtC8sgNY8RVZiZXfPsMmitetL_Abp2RV_9-kUDikyUvtgpRd9jsrNp5BQFKF1DL4pQodji9DrnW35-DAlW6qfzi6Mok/s320/PA190029.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261499021763227058" border="0" /></a><br />The Golden Gate at night. Absolutely. Awesome. We pulled into San Fran on this evening with hopes of getting a good night's sleep at a friend's house. But thanks to a birthday booze cruise for the friend in question the previous evening he passed out without ever receiving our phone call to announce our arrival. We will try not to name Jay Danforth in order to avoid any public embarrassments. Despite a rough first night however, the stay in San Fran was an overwhelming success. No worries, Jay. I blame it on the booze cruise. Don't booze and cruise. Words to live by, right? Yeah, probably not on this trip.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQuILo0f7SOQOLsiGZ_CpF-OsYOvgPvOgjfD8VposcMHZU9M5w7KU8t_PAmVymMwJdHCjaJeruylb6rp-9C_0OgNbtQGQQy9MJdkhSkxFgkF80CxYmUxh3qYkL3X-u4x7_OMDfkPpJjQo/s1600-h/PA210059.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQuILo0f7SOQOLsiGZ_CpF-OsYOvgPvOgjfD8VposcMHZU9M5w7KU8t_PAmVymMwJdHCjaJeruylb6rp-9C_0OgNbtQGQQy9MJdkhSkxFgkF80CxYmUxh3qYkL3X-u4x7_OMDfkPpJjQo/s320/PA210059.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261499028721447858" border="0" /></a><br />San Francisco's new California Institute of the Sciences is possibly the coolest museum we've ever set foot in. From the largest digital planetarium in the world to a four story indoor rain forest to a "living" roof, it's all around awesome. We spent about 4 hours wandering around having staring contests with lizards and gawking at upside down jellyfish and easily could have spent another 4 exploring.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwSCOYAJ0LKR4zCtf1v7LjgIheOuBWXR86ZlQswleuZJVbEmYD9HGgcRRnS3F-RtwQ7zn0lyvYfbB_3N6O8ARTLRtKEp6kMX4av1suGXfvUFOJ4EyDpyCOrAQ45Pn33Qt-rpkcRuLjTE/s1600-h/PA210061.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwSCOYAJ0LKR4zCtf1v7LjgIheOuBWXR86ZlQswleuZJVbEmYD9HGgcRRnS3F-RtwQ7zn0lyvYfbB_3N6O8ARTLRtKEp6kMX4av1suGXfvUFOJ4EyDpyCOrAQ45Pn33Qt-rpkcRuLjTE/s320/PA210061.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261500194124948498" border="0" /></a><br />Two of our gracious and gorgeous San Fran hostesses, Ehren and Kate, showed us around the city.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglUnfNbBRkObu61xuW2gmebOUPblqWNKeUgJqlWN9ZSGw4ID6Az1_SlKXUOBwbb8zP6FGPZxXeiPq_dRYoHlBmJP8L9hRJjjvHkAHRlnXbUMW7tKK5mwz0AiQ1toiEkuWxouoyXGt6KXw/s1600-h/IMG_0486%5B1%5D"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglUnfNbBRkObu61xuW2gmebOUPblqWNKeUgJqlWN9ZSGw4ID6Az1_SlKXUOBwbb8zP6FGPZxXeiPq_dRYoHlBmJP8L9hRJjjvHkAHRlnXbUMW7tKK5mwz0AiQ1toiEkuWxouoyXGt6KXw/s320/IMG_0486%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261907110743938322" border="0" /></a>Mr. Jayforth himself. Straight chillin.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAo9v3P7vw41nh3AhwEY9IQS9B6JgG_UV_aFJ-0sTu3Flt8_BzB4RDFRkeg2FSlecT2IXpZsKnM-bmjlR6cVPS67krLMInQPFogkRpNdv7s0OijMbQUz5XTuEG_ElUhe8NUxVz97Gb2s8/s1600-h/PA210072.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAo9v3P7vw41nh3AhwEY9IQS9B6JgG_UV_aFJ-0sTu3Flt8_BzB4RDFRkeg2FSlecT2IXpZsKnM-bmjlR6cVPS67krLMInQPFogkRpNdv7s0OijMbQUz5XTuEG_ElUhe8NUxVz97Gb2s8/s320/PA210072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261513690894666274" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ridicurous.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjphd7EeynkJdVPWNyyADWuobXmKPzenlKdPAZn6-kNGaMzzxHf0ygnyEwvrySOjd1Mc4uPsj7S-DN21llIY1MhFXgl-loMIKab19xRNEAjkvcu1QDKMG7C4Nw4wcZhv3s3e7ll_1PCbzA/s1600-h/IMG_0497%5B1%5D"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjphd7EeynkJdVPWNyyADWuobXmKPzenlKdPAZn6-kNGaMzzxHf0ygnyEwvrySOjd1Mc4uPsj7S-DN21llIY1MhFXgl-loMIKab19xRNEAjkvcu1QDKMG7C4Nw4wcZhv3s3e7ll_1PCbzA/s320/IMG_0497%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261527247000861474" border="0" /></a><br />Our ride to Nicaragua: Gypsy. That would make us Gypsy Kings? Probably.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3dgTNTAPBeahX5YbjuOSOh_0ATsZghTm7dM_VfdPPyss67Pa9zJztctdeO_cCdECSFoAD3lSkMkdicdym17AjZwNVdUysJGnkcbXtiDP-B7NQPeX0ELyKDkrIJ_veyNAlDx2D6r7d5do/s1600-h/PA240081.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3dgTNTAPBeahX5YbjuOSOh_0ATsZghTm7dM_VfdPPyss67Pa9zJztctdeO_cCdECSFoAD3lSkMkdicdym17AjZwNVdUysJGnkcbXtiDP-B7NQPeX0ELyKDkrIJ_veyNAlDx2D6r7d5do/s320/PA240081.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261499033079684082" border="0" /></a>The first of many delicious "barley pops" to be enjoyed aboard Gypsy, our trusty vessel. Mom and Dad, it's true - the apple doesn't fall far from the tree - that is a Coors Light. You have raised me well...or well enough.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3yKkLcGD3eTHig7Q0A7UiKEPbehKm1V-Oz4piBtTkhlI2dlNvSmzltkWSMDXynfbbUO500fnpaYAd4b_-PmWyoTgwhUH94hEoG2Y36r0RTBt2MA-02eVB4v9L3hdj8PBERwXZ_oi8lvw/s1600-h/IMG_0494%5B1%5D"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3yKkLcGD3eTHig7Q0A7UiKEPbehKm1V-Oz4piBtTkhlI2dlNvSmzltkWSMDXynfbbUO500fnpaYAd4b_-PmWyoTgwhUH94hEoG2Y36r0RTBt2MA-02eVB4v9L3hdj8PBERwXZ_oi8lvw/s320/IMG_0494%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261537871060304338" border="0" /></a><br />6:00am sunrise en route from Los Angeles to San Diego. Too bad the view sucked...I wish I was at work-HAHAHA. That's it for now. See you from Mexico!<br /></div>Eddiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05466479520386358171noreply@blogger.com3