March 8th-19th 2024

We were inbetween Puerto Vallarta and Cabo when the jostling of the boat became so bad that it started having an effect on my dreams. I was being pushed and shoved without my control as the boat slammed from every passing wave. It felt as if I was experiencing the movie, Inception. It was a poor attempt to get at least an hour of descent sleep as I prepared myself for a 1am to 4am shift, my least favorite.

Peter: “Hey, man. You ready?”

Me: “Yea. What speed have we been holding?”

Peter: “Best I not tell you.”

Me: “…Lovely...”.

There is nothing you can do when in a sea state such as this other than take it slow. I tried to distract myself from catching a glimpse of the mast mounted display showing boat speed. A dismal 2 to 3 knots. As the boat climbs up a wave, the anticipation of the drop, the fistfight of fiberglass and water, and the process starts all over again. Although satisfying to have finally pulled into Cabo, it only meant we were a quarter of the way home.

A quick stop for fuel and cellular service to check weather showed high winds in the near future. A game time decision was made to push to Bahia Magdaleina, about a day’s travel, in time to anchor and wait out weather for a couple days. The two days of anchoring gave us a chance to catch up on some much needed rest. However by day 2, cabin fever started to set in all of us. I lost count of how many card games we played and eating became something we all did just to pass the time. Suddenly, a 44ft sailboat seamed a lot smaller than you would think.

*Myself, Peter Cunningham, Charlie Winter, & Blackwing in Dana Point, CA*

This is my second delivery with Peter and Charlie. I first met them as complete strangers to myself on a delivery from San Diego to Portland. If you ever want to find out if you could click with strangers, try being on a sailboat with them for 14-days. By the end, we didn’t just complete the job as fellow crewmen, but as friends. I think we laughed more than we spoke to each other most days on the way to Portland.

As we travelled further and further north, the weather began to mellow. Our state of angst and the seas began to relax as if Pacific had tested us for the majority of our journey and now gave us a window of time to make up for. As we passed Ensenada just after sunset, a SpaceX rocket zoomed over the Coronado Islands right in front of us. It was a spectacle unlike anything I’ve ever seen from the water. Boosters detached and honed in on their oceanic landing pads like messenger pigeons. The vapor trail left untouched as if even the atmosphere was impressed by this feat of engineering. The seas were as calm as they’d ever been so far. The final dash for Dana Point had begun and 12-days on Blackwing was soon to conclude.

Blackwing

SoCal 250

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