San Blas

Iglesia Antigua, San Blas
What say the Bells of San Blas
To the ships that southward pass
From the harbor of Mazatlan?
To them it is nothing more
Than the sound of surf on the shore,—
Nothing more to master or man.
But to me, a dreamer of dreams,
To whom what is and what seems
Are often one and the same,—
The Bells of San Blas to me
Have a strange, wild melody,
And are something more than a name. – excerpt from The Bells of San Blas, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

I have stopped in San Blas as I pass southward from the harbor of Mazatlan.

San Jose del Cabo to Mazatlán

Mar de Cortez Sunset

If you’re fond of sand dunes and salty air, Quaint little villages here and there… At the River, Groove Armada

I motored out of Marina Los Cabos on Saturday morning, 12 January 2019. The sky was blue, the weather warm with a hint of a breeze. Once clear of the marina breakwater I raised the sails, shut off the outboard, and sailed for Mazatlán.

I’d had a wonderful time in San Jose del Cabo. It has a relaxed coastal California atmosphere, beautiful weather, a charming old town with art galleries and great restaurants. But I was at the end of California and could not go north until the winds change in the spring.

The 180 nm passage to Mazatlán was expected to take about 45 hours – a nice, slow, and comfortable beam reach. I’d selected a weather window with moderate winds from the north as I didn’t want to be rolling around in in steep wind waves on the beam. At just 4000 pounds Barchetta Veloce can get a little uncomfortable in disturbed seas.

Barchetta Veloce is also a fast little boat. Saturday afternoon and night the conditions were fantastic, pure Zephyr whistling on a wine dark sea. We sped over the swells, all through the night till dawn sailing on, and by morning we were two thirds of the way to Mazatlán and had raced through the carefully selected weather window. The wind increased, the swells became breaking wind waves, and Barchetta Veloce raced on, unable to slow down now, even with just a scrap of sail raised. We surfed down the waves, accelerating to exhilarating speeds, then crashing into the wave ahead, sending water cascading over the little boat.

All morning and afternoon we surfed on, and at sunset we were at the breakwater to Marina El Cid. I started the outboard, furled the sails, and motored into the marina, the little boat covered in salt and squid. The little boat and I were both beaten up and bruised, but after a good cleaning and some rest we are ready to get back out there.

There Is a Beautiful Beach Down There
Frigates
El Centro Viejo
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