We made it to San Carlos!
The flights were smooth, with no delays. TSA did flag my suitcase because of my precious MPPT—a Victron device that goes between the solar panels and batteries—but they handled it gently and treated it with the respect it deserves.
Upon arriving in Hermosillo, the dreaded customs checkpoint did not disappoint: we got the red light, and our luggage was scanned. We had six suitcases and two backpacks.
Thankfully, I came prepared with a spreadsheet listing all the parts I had brought. In this instance, sailboat parts were not covered by the $500 import allowance, so they wanted to tax us on everything. The customs officer decided to be “generous” and taxed us on only $1,000 worth. There was no point in arguing. We just paid up.
Once we stepped out of the airport, the heat hit us like a truck: 100°F after being on a freezing plane.
Thankfully, the driver I had arranged was waiting for us with his tiny compact car—and air conditioning.
Miraculously, we managed to fit everything into the car and set off on the one-hour-and-45-minute drive to San Carlos. We stopped at a Ley grocery store and loaded up on food, drinks, and ice.
Once we arrived at Marina Seca, our adventure officially began. They had forgotten to move our boat from storage to the work yard and wouldn’t be able to do so until the next morning.
We drove to the storage yard and unloaded everything.
To my dismay, the first thing I noticed was that the contractor I had already paid in full had sanded only a fraction of the hull.
By this point, we were both exhausted. Aside from a short nap during the drive to San Carlos, we hadn’t slept, and we hadn’t eaten. We were also dangerously dehydrated, so I wasn’t willing to give the hull much thought just then.
In the yard, we stripped off our jeans and changed into shorts. What a difference!
Once we found a ladder, I finally climbed onto the deck. Most of the sunshade Marla and I had installed had held up really well. There was a lot of bird mess, but that was to be expected, along with plenty of dust and dirt.
I unlocked the companionway and climbed inside. It smelled like a boat, but only subtly. It was hot, so I opened the hatches. Not bad. Everything looked in order.
The next task was winching the suitcases aboard. By the time we finished, we both felt dizzy. We had been drinking water, but clearly not enough.
We packed the essentials for the night and walked down the street to find a room.
The room we found wasn’t far away, but the heat was unbearable. As soon as we got inside, we took showers. They were supposed to be cold, but they weren’t. Either way, we felt refreshed—at least until we headed back out to find something to eat. It had been far too long since our last meal.
The next day, we would finally board Chewb-a-Doo.
Comments