It’s 220 miles from Isla Mujeres to San Pedro Belize a little longer for us because of all the tacking we had to do. Sunrise comes early in these parts and we and we were headed out of the harbor at 6:30 AM. Friday morning. I dreamt of raising the anchor all night long - to indicate my stress level. We had dropped the anchor when it was blowing up to 30+ knots and when Dan dove to determine our holding, the Rocna as not visible, it was buried so deep! We hove this 73 # miracle out of the depths and off we went. The ferryboats were already busy with their shuffle (between Isla Mujeres and Cancun) and more than one had to alter course – we were under sail. We had ridden our bikes the length of Isla Mujeres and it was fun to see the landscape from the water perspective.
I now know why I have always seen ads everywhere for cheap trips to Cancun. It’s HUGE! Now I will admit that I was only seeing the place from the water but it did not draw me in. Thank goodness there is room in this world for all the differences in people.
With the exception of exiting and entering harbor we sailed the whole trip. For the first 12 hours we had the 3-5 nmp of wind directly on our nose; so we tacked, a lot! It was a leisurely tour of the coast and it also improved our teamwork. The breeze picked up as the day went on. When the sun set the breeze lightened, once again, but it had clocked around by this time so we could sail a close reach. Did I say barely sail? We were averaging 3-4 nmp through the water but the Yucatan Current took back anywhere between 2.5 to 3 nmh so we hovered. It was like sailing on a treadmill. And that is how I saw Cozumel. All nightlong… The moon was waxing and casting light all around us and the pulsing beat from the nightclubs on shore was wafted on the air. In the early evening dolphins danced around us and I felt like it was a summer’s night for cruising. The wind won out and eventually, ever so slowly, we went more forward than back. It’s true, we have an engine but we are sailors and sail we will when it is at all possible!Our rhythm of watch-on-watch fell in and days turned into nights. Our path miraculously melded with the wind direction and were soon sailing close reach. With our destination in mind, we took advantage of every breath of the 12-21 knots of wind that was available. You see, access to Ambergris Cay, named after the grayish waxy substance secreted from sperm whales, lies behind a reef and visibility to this entrance is essential for safety. The guidebook indicated that if the seas are too lively one should pass on to the next port. It is difficult considering all variables to ever plan an arrival time on a long passage but if all held the same we could arrive at the entrance to San Pedro at the peak time of late morning where we would have excellent visibility. As we approached the harbor the wind subsided somewhat and we surfed on the rolling sea. Dan had the binoculars pressed against his eyes looking for the lonely yellow buoy marking the entrance. We carefully watched for a pattern of waves that would indicate the opening. A mistake here could easily cost us the boat. We were prepared for the climactic entrance and we glided in on the skill of our steady Captain. Once inside calm prevails but there is a new “obstacle”. The harbor is quite shallow, 10 feet being the deepest and average depth being 6 feet. We carefully picked our way. Anchor holding was our next challenge. We selected a sandy spot in the anchorage and when Dan dove to check we were barely making a purchase – the sand was merely inches deep and then came the bedrock. After a second try with slightly better results we put out two more anchors. The anchor alarm is set and the protection of the reef hopefully will keep us in a tidy spot!
Being Sunday we decided to stay on our boat with our Quarantine flag flying and to check in on Monday. We swam in the luxurious water and puttered around setting things right on Gypsy. Tortillas have become a serious part of our diet and we assembled the remains of our fresh stores and enjoyed Cuba Libros on deck. Inspection of the shore tells us that the village has grown substantially since our guidebook was written. Diving and fishing boats dart about with a confidence only local folks have knowing the waters so intimately. The shops we see in the distance seem geared for tourists but even on this Sunday the volume was small and unobtrusive.
After a good night’s sleep, (I can’t say uninterrupted, as when we heard the rain we leapt out of bed to attempt to collect water) and we are off to explore this new land.
