Mexico to Belize - susan

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.

Mexico for me susan

My daughter’s decision to teach English as a second language in Ecuador 3+ years ago started her solo traveling journey. I, at that time, was land based and listened carefully as she described the topography and the people and the culture and the tiniest nuances of the beauty of her experience. Since Ecuador her route has taken her to Mexico, Belize, Guatemala and destinations I may have missed. My map was on the wall and I plotted her where-abouts, as I knew. And now I am here, in Mexico! It excited me! I feel a connection to this land through Chelsea’s interpretation. Currently Chelsea is traveling in these parts with her friend, Mel; they are gathering material for a documentary they are making. Our paths are not able to cross at this junction but we are working to find a way…

No matter how prepared and organized we try to be, there is always a project that needs attention. Our inflatable dinghy came with a cover that helps to store her compactly on the deck. Jim Funk, our noted canvas maker back in Mystic, remade the deteriorating (after only one season) cover and it is serving us well, except the handles needed to be reinforced. Dan kept us on task and now that is another item to check off the list.

The shedding of material things is a process that seems to have impacted me, still.
We stroll along the streets lined with vendors displaying colorful assorted items and I have had no desire to own anything more. Much to the dismay of the sellers, I am not interested in gold or silver.

Being at anchor has subtle meanings besides the obvious. We were eating our breakfast yesterday and appreciating the ability to have the condiments set out, not shifting with the seas and sliding out of reach and sometimes out of the container. There is a calm that prevails when your reflexes are not being challenged as you eat.

Tomorrow we set sail…

Isla Mujeres, it’s like… – dan

It’s colorful, for sale, for rent, for lease and cheap too. It’s more of a tourist destination than I prefer but still it’s very pleasant, clean and ultimately hard to resist. It also seems a bit under attended at the moment which is probably a good thing for us. It took me a few days to warm up to Mujeres, it started with the turtles, but before that we had to clear in.

You might have thought that we were buying the whole island with all the paperwork we had to fill out clearing in; duplicate, triplicate, five and even six copies of many documents. Checking in here is serious business that costs hundreds of pesos, actually over a thousand. Fortunately with an exchange rate of twelve to one that turned out to be less than a hundred bucks US. The officials are polite, helpful and courteous. They wield stamps the way Olympic ping-pong champions wield a paddle; fast and with great skill. We maintain a respectful and serious bearing throughout the proceedings but I almost lost it at the health clinic when they asked if there were “any suspected rats on board?” I struggled to keep a straight face as I thought back to the other night when Susan cried out loud “RATS, we still seem to have rats” when I startled her in her sleep. That kind of humor or antidote usually doesn’t translate very well, so I struggled to keep my self in check.

I love the Mexican pangas with their full, graceful and seaworthy upswept bows. They are Spartan vessels, kept simple & light, narrow for their length. They move well, even with moderate sized motors. The local skippers handle these boats with grace and skill.

We both enjoyed strolling through the market and pondered Mexico’s apparent fascination with death. I would love to be here when they celebrate “The Day of the Dead” a holiday with ancient roots that originated in the Aztec culture.

It wasn’t until our third day here when Susan suggested that we take our bikes ashore and explore the island that the place really started to grow on me. We got away from tourist town and into a part of the island where the real people live. We drove down the western shore and came to an interesting looking place. With our limited Spanish it seed that it had something to so with fish but not much more so we turned in to check it out.

It turned out to be a wonderful place that’s mainly devoted to protecting and raising turtles for reintroduction into the wild. Who can resist turtles? They’re beautiful, endangered and they don’t ask you to buy anything. We took the self-guided tour but it was mostly in Spanish so we just strolled around the place taking it all in at face value.

The turtles are hatched in a protected sandy area and then raised in a series of tanks by the sea. We were amazed at the speed and agility of the young turtles. The older turtles are kept in large fenced in areas of the sound, just off the beach.

We continued on our bikes to the southern end of the island where we discovered a beautiful pavilion by the sea. Just past the pavilion, out on a narrow, cliff-lined point was a sculpture park. What great light and such a dramatic setting for art.

We made our way back along the eastern side of the island through more local towns and finally ended up back at our dinghy. We indulged ourselves with a cold cervesa and some nachos at the dockside restaurant. It’s funny how we take every opportunity to sit by the sea even though, living on a boat, we’re constantly “by the sea”. Once back on Gypsy we enjoyed a swim in the 77deg water. I cleaned part of Gypsy’s bottom and then we both took sun showers in the cockpit. Simple pleasures are sometimes the most fulfilling.

Then it was back to town for some internet. After the internet we set out on foot in search of a nice restaurant. We passed a Mediterranean place, an upscale Asian place a couple of pizza places and finally a Mexican restaurant that looked promising. Soon we were seated on the sidewalk, sipping mojitos and eating delicious fajitas in the balmy tropical evening air and taking in the street life. The charm index went through the roof when a roving Mariachi band came by and started playing. Who can resist Mariachi’s? It was the perfect ending to a wonderful day in Mujeres.

Soon we’ll be off again, this time headed for Ambergris Cay, Belize which is about 220 miles down the coast from here.

Depart: Key West Arrival: Isla Mujeres - susan

Preparing to leave Key West, like leaving any anchorage where we have lived for some weeks, is always a lot of work. The day before our intended departure we took our bikes to shore and headed downtown to Immigration departure documentation. We then went to our favorite market and after using their Internet (to check weather one more time and send some emails) we purchased some specialties items for our upcoming passage. Next we sped through town to the opposite end of the island to buy some tarps and bleach, another ball of yarn, and a few fresh vegetables and some eggs. Weighed down with our purchases we headed back to Gypsy. Dan was in the lead and the traffic was heavy. We were able to ride on the bike path most of the way but accessing it required a couple of jogs that took us across some businesses directly on the highway. A car was set back from Rt 1 and appeared to be parked – until the driver pulled forward and ran into the front of my bike. He was barely moving and stopped right away to my shouts. I toppled off the bike onto the road but quickly recovered to avoid being flattened by oncoming traffic (and some of you were worried about us out on the high seas!).

Once back at the dinghy dock we took our last hot shower for the near future and chatted with people who had become a part of our lives over the past month – some of whom we do not even know their names and we will never see again, but they have a place in our memory. Once back on the boat we stowed our purchases and began the final preparations. Our dinghy was hauled aboard and scrubbed (the bottom had developed a layer of moss) and we filled her with water to try to determine where the persistent leak is. (We have more of an idea where it isn’t coming from; now are working on a plan to seal the transom.) Our remedy to discourage the cormorants from roosting on our boat (and early on they had and left their signature to prove it) was to entwine some line above the spreaders – Dan had to go back up the mast to take it all down before we left.

The next morning the alarm sounded at 7:30 AM as planned, to set out for Isla Mujeres. I had been awake listening to the rain on the hatch cover, not a sharp tapping of drops, but steady… Neither of us leaped out of bed with the usual excitement of the start of a new passage. Out of the semidarkness Dan suggested we sleep for another half hour ‘til the rain, hopefully, would stop and the wind would come up. It didn’t. We read and we ate a hearty breakfast and the rain continued. Our foul weather gear is substantial but the fog and light rain blanketed the mooring field and took away the wind. We listened to the weather forecast and at least in our area, this is not what was supposed to be happening! Morning chores were over quickly and we relaxed with more reading and knitting. Small projects started to emerge. Dan cleaned the hatch cover in the forward berth that was a Q-tip level job we each had been meaning to tackle. I washed down the ceiling and cleaned the sills on the hatches. Dan re-read our resources on our passage to Isla Mujeres and plotted the waypoints into the GPS. The rhythm of the day was dotted with inspections on deck for the state of the weather. When the rain finally did stop, the face of the water had a glass like appearance. Neither of us wanted to motor excessively. The point finally came when a decision needed to be made. Should we go or wait ‘til morning? We decided to hope for more wind in the morning. The best laid plans are subject to change. Dan worked on a slide show he has been putting together and we both were amazed how far we have come; some recent memories seemed like so long ago…

The next morning our departure was easy and graceful. I felt like we were beginning our yoga practice with the slow and gentle movement out of the harbor, past our familiar habitat. When we are in a harbor Gypsy becomes our home, not our mode of transportation and the transition back to vehicle is a special one. It feels empowering to me to have my world of basic needs compact.

Every passage has taken on its own unique personality. Sleep deprivation is a given. With only two of us, 24 hours can only be broken up so many ways. Brendon (the auto-helm) was back and we were grateful. Light winds saved us when the forestay gave way; light winds and Dan’s prompt direction as to how we would handle the situation. Flying our spinnaker was colorful and efficient. We harnessed every available wisp of air. The two pods of dolphins that we encountered had different personalities. The first were in the waters right around Key West and they stayed a visible distance away – I called them the “paid” dolphins. Tour boats gawk at them all day… Farther on there were the ones who seemed to see us from a distance, came over to check us out, swam around us, and then went on their way. Horatio (the sea bird) came aboard in the darkness; I can’t figure out how I could have missed his entrance. He did frighten me a bit as I saw his shadow in the corner of the cockpit and thought he was a piece of fabric. In my attempt to move “it” with my foot I felt the life of the body. He seemed uncomfortable when I shone the light on him so I merely talked to him for the rest of my watch. At daybreak he began to walk around and made his move to depart. I rather liked having him but knew his was only a brief visit. He moved to the top of the bimini and paused there for some thirty minutes before he flew away. I noticed some of his kind had circled just before he took flight.

Dan effectively did the Gulf Stream dance and it was approaching sunset as we neared Isla Mujeres. The recent time change in the States made us two hours ahead of Mexico, a fact we were rather vague about at the time. Entering an unknown harbor in the darkness is not advised and we would have stayed outside until daybreak if the grey light had not guided us in. We dropped the hook and stowed away the essentials. Up went our “quarantine” flag. We are in Mexico! Within an hour we were eating a light dinner and reviewing our latest adventure… Sleep was a delicious luxury, and we gave thanks…

Key West to Isla Mujeres Mexico – dan

It was a typical passage in that it was unlike any other passage we’ve ever made; so far, they’ve all been very different experiences. It took us four long days to make the relatively short 350 nm journey. We left Key West last Thursday morning. It was 8:00 am when we dropped our mooring lines, the air clear and cool with the wind light (3 – 4 nmp) out of the north. We said our good-byes to the Conch Nation as we ghosted slowly past Schooner Warf and Malory Square, sailing on in spite of the light and variable winds.

By noontime, after 4 hours of sailing we were only 10 miles from Key West, that’s when our forestay gave way. We’re lucky it happened in light-air or we might have lost the mast. We were tacking through a bunch of fishing boats when it happened. Funny things can go through ones mind at such times. There was a loud bang and then the head-stay & jib swung in. My first thought was; that’s not supposed to do that. Luckily I was at the helm the instant it let go so I was able to react immediately to save our mast. We usually let the autohelm drive the boat during a passage. I spun the helm hard to port and headed dead downwind to relieve the strain on the mast. Next we rigged a spare halyard to the bow, dropped the main sail, hand rolled the jib and then rigged our inner-forestay. Luckily for us the stay itself was fine, we’d somehow lost the cotter pin that holds the lower forestay clevis pin allowing it to pop out. Like I said we were lucky, very lucky. A half-hour later we on our way again.

It was very slow going in light-air against 1.5 nmh of opposing Gulf Stream current. We read to each other, finishing Patrick O’Brian’s biography and then started the 5th in his series of Aubrey-Maturin novels; Desolation Island. Susan knitted and I napped. By noon of the second day we were only 70 miles away from Key West. We set the spinnaker when the wind came off our nose and rejoiced as it slowly built throughout the day. By sunset the wind was blowing nicely at 12-14 nmp and Gypsy was sailing gloriously. It was hard to drop such a beautifully pulling sail but discretion won out and we doused the spinnaker and unfurled the jib for the evening.

It was a beautiful evening; clear sky, sliver of a moon, a couple slender clouds, lots of stars, though not many of the shooting variety and there was a bio luminance phenomenon that I’ve never seen or heard of before. At first I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. There were quick flashes in the water around the boat that lasted no more that a second. They were relatively small, about 2’ – 6’ in diameter and looked like miniature versions of cloud lighting, happening just under the surface of the water.

Later that evening I got a big laugh when I woke Susan for her watch by gently touching her foot. She must have been very deeply asleep because she jumped with such a start as I’ve never seen her do before and when she did she exclaimed loudly; “RATS, we still seem to have rats”. We’ve never had any issues with rats on board but the previous evening Susan touched a hitchhiking bird that she didn’t know was there and let out such a squawk (Susan not the bird) that it woke me from a sound sleep. It was even louder than the yell she made when a car knocked her off her bike in Key West. Poor Susan has been getting more that here share of abuse lately.

We had been doing great with respect to the Gulf Stream until we neared Isla Mujeres. I had been expecting strong current north of Cuba but there we never saw more than 1 nmp against us. It was 60 miles northeast of Isla we hit the strong stuff, 3.5 nmp of oppositional current. I altered course from southwest to west in order to get into soundings earlier and that seemed to work. Soon the adverse current dropped down to a manageable 1 nmp. It also helped about then that the wind clocked around to the north and built to over 30nmp. That gave us plenty of power to punch through the stream. It was exhilarating surfing down moderately large waves at speeds in the 8 to 11nmp range.

We arrived at Mujeres just as the sun was setting. It was a bit of a rodeo getting the hook down and secured at dusk, in a strange harbor, in 30 knots of wind. We did little more that evening than raise our Q flag, set the GPS’s anchor watch and then fell soundly asleep, sleeping like two people who hadn’t gotten a full nights sleep in the past 3 nights. We went to bed grateful for our safe passage, snug harbor and warm bed.

And that dear friends and unknown readers, is the story of our passage to Mexico.

New map feature

Thanks to Captain Cote we now have a Google map that shows our journey so far. It’s on the left-hand side of our blog page. You might have to scroll around a bit to find our track but it’s there if you’re interested.

Thanks Mark!

Key West, parting shots- dan

We’re wrapping up our time in Wey West and preparing for the next leg of out journey: Mexico, Belize and Guatemala. Key West has been fun and it’s been a privilege to spend a month in one of the most unique places in America. It was a chance to satiate our culture longings with live music, three movies, a play and performance artists.

After months in the islands we were running low or were out of most of our staples. Susan had done an amazing good job of anticipating our needs in the initial provisioning and now it was time to repeat that feat for the next several months travel. Reprovisioning turned out to be our single biggest job in Key West. It took three days of shopping to complete the task. Each day we would walk to the supermarket, which is about a mile from the dinghy dock. We would then buy one shopping cart’s worth of food. After checking out we would then transfer the food into our 2-wheeled handcart for the walk back to the dinghy dock where we’d then transfer the load into the dinghy for the mile long trip out to Gypsy. After three days of shopping and carting goods Susan declared us stocked and we spent one next day storing and inventorying all those provisions.

Once that was done we took some time to walk around Key West and take in the sights. We checked out some new areas, new to us that is, such as the beaches along the eastern shore and the amazing municipal gardens which are located in an old forte.

We were enchanted by the Butterfly Conservatory; a magical place full of lush tropical plants, birds, fish, turtles, lizards and of course butterflies in all shapes, sizes and colors. At one point Susan extend her had to point to something and several butterflies took the opportunity to fly spirals around her out-stretched arm. It was like being in a fairytale or in a waking-dream about an enchanted rain forest.

We passed this unique houseboat on our almost dally commute from Gypsy to the dinghy dock. We never saw the owners but I often wondered what type of people would occupy such a dwelling. I would love to have met them.

Sometime in the next couple of days we’ll decide that “this is the day” and we’ll drop the mooring lines and head to Mexico. As usual I’m looking forward to sailing and also to arriving in a foreign and exotic port. The next passage won’t be easy as we’ll have to cross the gulf stream at least twice to get to Isla Mujeres, a distance of about 350 nm which should take us three or four days to transit. Wish us luck; we’ll take all we can of that valuable commodity.

Living - in Key West - susan

I live in Key West, Florida. There is a kind of ownership to your life and to your surroundings if you say those words out loud. As with any new address we now know where the post office, bank and grocery stores are located. The Assistant Manager of the local Arts Cinema takes the time at the beginning of each film to stand before the audience and identify himself as the “go to” person for any inconvenience during the movie and in closing points out that there are receptacles at the exit of the studio to deposit any trash generated during the show. The Ben Franklin Craft store has an adequate supply of yarns and they have a great bargain on “cheaters” - $4.00 per pair. The Home Depot is within walking distance – if you don’t buy too much. There are new bookstores and used bookstores and we have now been told of a combination store with new and used books – it’s on our list.

Today we made a return trip to a local Thai restaurant and the waitress gave us the “local” discount.

As we weave our way to the downtown section of the city we have been exploring some of the side streets. There is a flare for the artistic and unique in the facades of the houses; some are grand with wrap around porches and decorative urns lining the entryway, others are brightly painted cottages with hammocks and mobiles and other decorative ornamentation attached to the structure. Foliage is lush and creates in many yards a magical quality of secrecy. Property borders are often demarcated with picket fences and tiles and/or bricks create inviting walkways and terraces. There is also a village of houseboats on the docks at the Municipal Marina.

Lack of snow and short distances make the scooter and bicycle manageable modes of transportation. There are designated bike/walking paths and all ages and sizes of people flow along in the procession. There are the tourists (riding the rental bikes) who are wearing too little clothing for the weather and smell of sunscreen, the working commuters who are wearing versatile attire, with a briefcase over their shoulders, and the families who are attempting to stay in line giggling and calling to one another to keep together. People are more accessible for dialogue and interaction when they are on bicycles.

The range of housing here is amazing; shacks abut stately southern mansions without pretense or excuse.

Neighborhoods and even Mallory Square are dotted with chickens and roosters who roam freely with no apparent roost. We were told that these chickens are descendents of chickens brought to Key West by Cuban immigrants. I welcome this carefree addition to the scene – not all residents do, however!

Mallory Square is brimming with activity as sunset approaches. Venders set up their wares; performers mark their spots.

During the day the gulls and the pigeons may have the square to themselves… It’s amazing how this place can change in the blink of an eye.

We all have different ways of getting to this Southernmost Spot. Cruise ships are anchored right where the action is. The destination may be the same but the journeys are certainly different.

I live in Key West, at least for now. Provisioning is nearly complete, the upcoming winds look favorable and our order at West Marine should be in tomorrow. Departures require readjustments; more adventures are sure to be in our new home!

Key West, back in the USA – dan

Al got me thinking with his last comment, he can have that affect. It’s where he “wonders how Key West compares to our last 4 months” (Bermuda, D.R., Bahamas and all the water in between) that got me going. I’m becoming increasingly aware that we experience places on many different levels and that our experience is often colored by different factors and filters. That is very much the case in our visit to here. Key West is a happening place: it’s charming, sometimes loud, sometimes lewd, quaint, a piece of history, a commodity, a community, an idea, an ideal, many ideas, a destination for many and home for a few. It a place we’ll call home for about a month of our lives.

For me the biggest thing about Key West was family; I got a wonderful chance to visit with my older brother and his family. They drove six hours from their home in southern Florida to meet us on Friday and we spent a wonderful three-day weekend catching up and doing the usual tourist things together. It’s been three years since I had last seen them, so there was much catching up to do. My nephew is now sixteen and starting what will no doubt be one of the most exciting and formative parts of his life. He’s still playing sports, starting to drive and thinking about college. We’re a generation apart from one another and I struggle to understand him and the new world that he lives in. It brought me back to when I was his age, when our generation not only didn’t understand the other (older) generation but also didn’t trust them. It’s with a sense of irony and bewilderment that I find myself now on the other side of that gap. What I can tell about my nephew Chucky is that he has a good heart and a strong spirit; traits that I know will serve him well as he establishes his place and helps define the world around him.

After my family left, Susan and I started mending things on Gypsy along with exploring and settling into our new (short-term) home. We’re finding Key West to be a relaxed and friendly place. It’s a little zany, very friendly, socially tolerant, diverse and for the most part, a fun loving population. A place where one can easily spend a million dollars on a house, live inexpensively anchored out in a houseboat or sleep in the park for free. There’s a nice pace to Key West, a human pace where people take time to stroll, ride bikes, have a drink, talk and watch the sunset. We’ve had more real conversations with casually encountered folks than usual. It also feels like people in general “care” more for each other. All of which taken separately and in total, is surprising for a town visited by so many tourists.

Back to Al’s question how does Key West compare to our last 4 months of travel? It’s an apples to zebras comparison, not easy, but I’ll do my best. First off it was the worst Customs & Immigration experience of our entire trip. Everywhere else we’ve been I had the feeling that I was being welcomed into the country along with being cleared in. It’s sadly ironic that our own country’s Customs & Immigration felt foolish, ineffectual and paranoid in comparison.

We were on stimulus overdrive for the first few days after coming from a place where the only sounds were generated by nature, little or no advertisement and half a dozen cars together at any one place constituted a traffic jam. Here we were confronted with billboards, at times cars lined up as far as the eye can see, jets flying overhead and jet skis zooming past Gypsy on a daily basis. It’s the first time in months that I’ve been honked by a driver in anger; thank you fellow American.

The up-side of a noisy infrastructure is that re-provisioning is easy and relatively inexpensive. We left the states last October with six months of food and a year’s worth of engine and boat parts; we’ve been depleting those resources ever since. This is a great place to replenish our stores. My brother had brought us a large load of boat parts and we’ve been picking up more here; things that would have been very difficult and expensive to obtain where we’ve been and where we’re headed. We’ve also been enjoying lower prices for almost all our food and staples in comparison to everywhere except the Dominican Republic. We truly are rich in food and “stuff” in America.

Something else interesting is that we seem to be on or near the same plane as the homeless people in Key West. We both walk or bike around, use public showers and we find ourselves sharing the same free WiFi spots. I feel a strange kinship to the homeless in Key West. I honor their simple living and rugged individualism. I also wonder how one comes to the place in their life where they start living in the street. I’ve also been wondering a similar thing about the guys down here who dress like pirates and those who cultivate a resemblance to Hemingway.

We broke several fasts in Key West. We ate our first pizza in 3 months; saw our first movie in 5 months and our first play in 6 months. We saw the wonderful inspiring play (Shirley Valentine), a one-woman play preformed by a hugely talented and engaging actress. It was preformed in a very quaint barn (Red Barn Theatre) that dates back to the 1800’s and seats only about 60 people.

We also saw a marvelous movie (The Last Station) about the later years of Leo Tolstoy’s life. I was surprised to learn that Tolstoy was a radical Christian; he believed in strict nonviolence and his later writings inspired Gandhi & Martin Luther King Jr. Gandhi called him “the greatest apostle of nonviolence that the present age has produced” and that it was Tolstoy’s essay The Kingdom of God is Within You that convinced Gandhi to abandon violence and adopt nonviolent resistance. He wrote; “Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love…”Pretty amazing considering Tolstoy was a Russian noble who served as an officer in the army.

The pizza was probably only a 3 on the 1 to 10 scale but tasted delicious to us none-the-less.

We’ve been following the health care debaucle as closely as we can and it hurts my head and heart to see such an important and central issue be derailed by partisan politics. Our Canadian neighbors in the mooring field are incredulous with the USA’s apparent inability to do what Canada has done. While they readily admit that their “socialized medicine” is not without faults, it’s far better that the extreme medical inequity that exists in the US. We’re particularly invested in this issue as we are two of the 45.5 million people in this country without health insurance.

When we’re not busy solving the ills of the world we’re kept busy by fixing thing on Gypsy. So far we’ve repaired the autopilot (replaced the faulty control head) fixed our masthead, Tri-Color light (replaced faulty breaker), got the bow navigation lights working again (cleaned contacts), patched a worn spot on our jib. We still have to address the radar, a leak in the dinghy and install a new power inverter. There’s always something to do on a boat.

In conclusion to Al’s question “how does is compare?" Vastly different; they’re completely different places and experiences. We had a great trip to Bermuda and the Caribbean and it’s great to be in Key West. There’s an added bonus of being back in the USA in that it’s comforting to be back in our home culture. America isn’t perfect, far from it, but it’s my country and I feel a deeper kinship with the people we’ve met here in Key West that I have anywhere else in our travels aboard Gypsy.