Grabbed this gem of a GREM!
Art always helps. My Uncle Tommy died on my Mom’s 80th birthday.
Too far away to attend the memorial in Philly, we had our own celebration for my beloved UT.
Creative mourning.
From our anchorage in Rescailillo, Huatulco, Mx, Marcus mans the drone (and edits this vid), Maddi plays the ukelele (first introduced to the instrument by U.T. in September – sings the song, ‘Hummingbird”) and Di gets scribbly in the sand. For the Tramontana’s –
Look who else we snagged?! The crew member with the most miles (though at almost 8,000, we’re closing in on her 10,000!). So good to have the girls both aboard!
I first noticed the Gulf of Tehuantapec long before we even had Allora, when I was just learning about Grib files (wind forecasting models) back in Montana. If you look at the wind patterns along the west coast of North and Central America, you can’t miss this funnel of gale strength wind pouring across the narrow patch of Mexico at its southern end, between the mountains in Guatemala and the southern reach of Oaxaca’s Sierra Madre. The weather reports we listened to on our Ham radio in the Sea of Cortez always included a Tpec forecast and it seemed like it was always blowing 50 knots down there. Sailors call them Tehuantapeckers and they usually last for days and days with brief breaks which inspire mad sprints to get across before the gale starts up again. On our way south we got lots of advice on how to deal with this fierce section of coastline. Everyone warned us not to underestimate the Tehuantapec. “Don’t be tempted to cut straight across, keep one foot on shore… stay in 30 feet of water. You should be able to see people walking on the beach.” This last bit of salty advice didn’t prove useful. Not surprisingly, there was definitely NO ONE “walking on the beach” when we passed this desolate stretch of coast even at sunset with wind in the mid 20’s.
We chose to leave on Christmas Day, in what was described by the locals as more of a lull than a “weather window.” We made great time in the back current along shore approaching the apex of the gulf, following a trail of turtles that dotted the way like trail markers. The Tehuantapec did not disappoint and we hit the worst winds (of course) right at dark. After a little reefing madness (that a little reefer madness might have helped), we settled in for a gusty ride, resisting the temptation to add more sail when it seemed to fall off before slamming us again. It never broke thirty knots, but with each gust we would be reminded that we had been hearing for a year how it could hit 60 without warning, By 3:00am the winds were gone completely and all we had to do was weave our way through a maze of shrimp boats, wishing the gulf could offer us a better choice than 40 knots or less than four. -MS
©MPS
©HRS
We left ALLORA in the calm and safe marina at Puerto Chiapas (used to be called, “Puerto Madero”) and went on an inland excursion to Guatemala. When we returned, a week later, we’d heard that the Mexican government had raised gasoline prices too much and the people were rioting and looting to show their disapproval. A few people were even killed in the mayhem which reached Mexico City. To us, that meant that the big provisioning that I’d planned to do in Mexico wouldn’t happen. The Wal Mart, which is (sadly) the mecca for provisioning, was pitted – nothing left in it. The Oxxo’s, which are convenient stores (like 7-eleven) were particularly hit hard (they are gov’t. run) and the local shop was all boarded up. One of the more savvy cruiser’s at the marina anticipated this and bought everything she could find in the little marina ‘tienda.’ We waited till the last minute and Maddi and I did a modified version of the gluttonous stockpiling I’d imagined in the sleepy, small village of Puerto Madero.
