Just before we left La Cruz, Diana wondered aloud whether passages would ever feel routine, no big deal. I said I didn’t think so because you never know for sure what’s going to happen. We’ve made it to our planned destination just once out the last four passages. The first time because the wind was blowing a certain way, so why fight it? Then because we had an unexpected engine problem, we made a 90 degree turn for the mainland. On the next big crossing, we made it to Puerto Vallarta as planned, but this most recent trip (unplanned in the grand scheme) we aimed for Bahia Los Frailes and ended up in Puerto Los Cabos. The engine ran flawlessly, but not so my gut. Diana’s single handling skills were tested along with her doctoring skills, to make sure it was not appendicitis. We were pretty sure it was just bad food or water that had me laid out with a fever and nightmarish stomach cramps, but we headed for a port where we could find a doctor just in case, and Diana pulled an all nighter to get us there. It’s confidence building for both of us to know she can come up with the right treatment for me, while keeping Allora sailing along beautifully and reef the sails as she confirms her diagnosis via Sat phone.
