Looking up CAVENDISH'S skirt
I’ve taken maybe four selfies in my life. Am I doing it right?
A month ago, the boat left the brown, turbid waters of San Francisco Bay and is now in the clear tropical waters of Cabo San Lucas.
This lends the opportunity to get in the water with mask and snorkel and inspect the wetted surfaces of the hull. Not much to report, happily. Propeller free of damage, check. Rudder, same, but some paint missing. Anodes have plenty of life left in them. Tiny fishes nibble at what little growth there is. Thanks, fishes. You’re saving me some work.
It is supremely satisfying to have gotten this far under one’s own steam. I love looking at the coral and neon tropical fishes in the ecosystem directly below me. I do not like looking at my credit card bill that is part of getting me here.
Cabo is a highly impacted place. Party central, and the marina could do with being four times the size. People book a year in advance for a slip. I did not, so I don’t get one. If I were to take up every solicitation along the Embarcadero/ waterfront, I’d have my pockets turned inside out, house triple mortgaged, divorced and first born sold off in no time flat.
Joke’s on them. I’m neither married nor offspring.
Locals are very friendly, but you would be as well if you’re trying to sell me something.
Lying at anchor 200 yards off the beach is fine enough. Bow plus stern hooks necessary for two reasons: stay pointed into the prevailing swell, and to not swing into neighboring boats. Executing certain tasks is more complicated when anchored, such as engine oil change and laundry. I am very glad I have the capacity to make my own water, power, and internet. It’s a massive, modern convenience worth every penny.
Tomorrow (4th) I intend to move to San José del Cabo. Just 20 nautical miles East along the coast, where they do have a slip for me. It’s probably a difference of Las Vegas vs Reno. Same prospects, just smaller. Otherwise, I am eyeing the weather to make a bid for Puerto Vallarta via a tiny, secret island. One or two of you reading this know about it, because you told me.
To conclude, you should know that I consumed the most expensive burrito of my life. $35. That’s a day’s pay. This is the site of burrito consumption:
When someone tells you Mexico is cheaper than the US, I’m telling you that’s not always the case.
Adios and toodles from CAVENDISH. I’m off to find a burrito. Maybe I can divide it amongst 3 credit cards.
—André