Cruise Log #36, to San Carlos
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And a New Lifestyle
Updated October 16th, 2006
SolMate's bumpy 120-mile
route across the Sea to Isla Tiburon and down the coast to San
Carlos.
Locating a slip in Marina Real, San Carlos, was almost as easy as locating a house nearby -
both missions accomplished during our first week in town.
It was blustery sailing across from BLA, up to 8 foot choppy, nasty seas and rolly
anchorages as we hopped down the mainland coast. We explored four different anchorages on the
way. I panicked...afraid I'd never see another beach or another seashell, so pounced on all I laid
eyes on. Returned to the boat from each beach walk with pockets bulging - the
hermit crabs between here and Isla Tiberon will be scrambling in the surf, naked.
On arrival, SolMate stuck her anchor in the sand off of Catch 22 Beach, north of San Carlos.
These days the beach looks nothing like the movie set, nor does the airfield behind the beach
where the "I love the smell of napalm in the morning" scene was shot. Now,
huge vacation homes line the shore, as well as highrise condos, a Howard Johnson's and a defunct
Club Med. Jet
skis and sport fishers zoom around and about the anchorage.
Checked with Marina Real for a slip. Nothin' doing, full up. The same day, they found a slip for
Nakia, who's a bit shorter and a bit narrower than our fat-bottomed girl. However, next to
Nakia on the very inside of the gangway next to the rip-rap wall was an opening, of sorts. Stan
whined to the office about it. Welllll, they weren't sure it was deep enough...they called the port
captain. He wasn't at all sure, either, but he sauntered over and dropped a lead line all
around the dock: once pies (11') off the finger, doce pies (12') at the head. Plenty of depth,
we took the slip. "Oh, and by the way, on your way in, stay to the right coming down the
fairway because there's a little hill that mounds up to 6 feet in the middle" (fully loaded
SolMate draws 6.5'). Now wouldn't that have been embarrassing, to run
aground in the marina, stuck out in the fairway blocking traffic?
But we didn't, SolMate slid into her slip at high tide, no problema. Then, the hard work began,
prepping her for dry storage and searching out someplace for the crew to live.
Making the search a bunch easier, internet access, lots of real estate offices, and Nakia's
AIR CONDITIONED Toyota truck!
Little house on the bay - white speck hidden amongst the mansions of Bahía.
No phone, no pool, no pets. No pets? That's our story.
What we can admit to is 1,000 square feet of running space (if we happen to accidentally stumble
across a kitty who needs room to run); two bedrooms; two full baths; industrial-size
washer and dryer; internet from an unsuspecting, non-secure neighbor; and hot and cold running
critters.
Las cucarachas (1 to 2 inches), DOA from visiting our numerous roach motels; el
alacron (scorpion 3-4 inches, but who's measuring that tail?) was moving slow enough to corral;
and el gecko
(5 inches) scooted high up the wall so that Gale couldn't hone in on him (el gecko's cute, we'll
keep him if Gale will let us).
Our house-hunting method was simple, whoever answered our email query first won our business.
Jim Jett was the lucky winner, and the house he showed us was over budget, but a stand-alone
house (privacy) and it came equipped with a bike; that, and the W/D, made it worth it. Another
plus, the house is centrally located for boatwork: two miles from Marina Real, where we'll be
working on SolMate for the next month; a mile from Marina San Carlos, where we'll haul her out
of the water on November 8th; and two miles from Marina Seca, where she'll be up on stands in
dry storage until San Carlos Yachts sells her for us.
