Fearless sailing in a motorhome

PARADISE VILLAGE MARINA, NAYARIT, MEXICO — We watched a documentary last night called “Fearless” in the company of maybe 100 other sailor/cruisers. The film is based on a book by the same name about a woman who survives 40+ days at sea in a dismasted boat after the boat took a knockdown — a knockdown that also tore her boyfriend off the boat. He was lost at sea and his body never recovered.

The power of the sea is on everyone’s mind all the time anyway, but with the tsunami and now this film, there’s probably more thoughts about trading in the sails for a motor home than ever.

In an odd way, the tale actually made me think about how nice it is out on the ocean, away from land and all the politics and general b.s. we have to deal with. It’s certainly cheaper to live on the sea. Yes, you have to fill the food lockers and water and fuel tanks before you go, but once out there, forget about buying anything. And forget about television and all but the most rudimentary of broadcast radio. What you do rely on is the HAM radio, but what you hear is mostly people like yourself and you are not concerned about how much the latest Ipod costs, but what the weather will be like until you make your next landfall.

The weather here in this part of Mexico has been so benign it’s almost eerie. The wind blows from the north in the morning, the west in the afternoon and the south at night, almost like we are circulating the same air over and over. It’s about 70 degrees when we awake, 82 degrees at the middle of the day, and perhaps 75 degrees in the evening, an hour after sundown. The water temperature has warmed up, too, so even the ocean is probably close to 80, though the swimming pool with the ever-popular crocodile slide is more like 82.

This morning was a ‘get-up-early’ morning to do several boat projects before the prime boogie-boarding hits — high tide at about 11 a.m. That’s three hours from now and it’s amazing what you can accomplish in a scant three hours with a little determination. Up first is emptying the locker behind me, so that potential buyers can actually see how much space there is. Then another shot at cleaning the teak rails is probably in order, followed by a quick trip up the mast (well, part-way) to see about cleaning off the oxidation.

At some point today, I will have to sit down and start work on my next set of magazine stories. But that will mean logging on to see what the latest news is regarding education and what the latest assault is on the integrity of teachers, the pension system and/or organized labor.

Don’t be surprised if you see a move to repeal child labor laws sometime in the next few years — after wages have been depressed so far that Wal-Mart looks like an attractive employment option, and Social Security has been destroyed.

Enough of those thoughts. There’s a stuffed locker behind me crying out for my attention.

mjf

Sad rainy days in California, not Mexico

11 January 2005

PARADISE VILLAGE MARINA, NAYARIT, MEXICO — The days flow together here in Mexico, even with boat projects taking up a good portion of the morning. This year is different than the last two; far fewer cruisers getting ready to sail to our favorite places like Tenacatita, Barra de Navidad and Zihuatenejo.

The boats this year are mostly populated by people who, like us, are using Banderas Bay as a homeport. For us, the Bay is its own paradise with great sailing, warm water and enough great restaurants along the shore to break even our peso-based budget if we are not careful.

We try not to read the news much, except for when we have to write stories for one of our magazine contracts. Today’s news, about Guvenator Arnold Schwarzenegger’s proposed California state budget, is about as depressing as can be. If there was one thing most people believed about Arnold, it was that he would keep his word. They were wrong, again. After promising K-12 education the money the people of the state have voted to give schools (Proposition 98), he’s going to renege on giving it to them. (People with good memories might remember that during the election campaign, he promised to have a full investigation into the allegations made by the women who said Arnold is a world-class groper. He dropped the idea after being elected and the spineless news media barely bothered to mention it.)

But the good news is that the schools are going to sue the state to get the money — and the courts generally don’t like it when governors refuse to obey the law, even action-hero guvenators.

The other less-than-bright idea that’s in the budget is removing most of the money from the transportation budget, guaranteeing that already overdue road maintenance will be deferred yet again. Perhaps the governor is thinking of opening a chain of wheel alignment shops around the state (they will be needed).

And don't get me started about how he wants to gut the California Public Employees Retirement system, one of the most successful in the world. I used to think Arnold Schwarzegger was a shrewd. Now I have serious doubts.

But enough of this. It’s time to transit to the beach where the surf is up and Dick Dale songs are ringing in my ears. Writing some stories about the guvenator’s education massacre will have to wait until this afternoon.

But I’ll be back.

mjf

Yelapa gets power -- and calls it progress

YELAPA, Jalisco, Mexico — We visited this isolated Mexican village a few days ago only to find that in the four years since we first landed through the surf after a wild panga ride to get there, the pueblo now has fulltime electricity (they used to turn off the generator at 10 p.m. each night, restarting at 8 a.m.), satellite television (which the kids all cluster around) and even a small video arcade area. A rough dirt road now allows autos to be within a mile or so of the village. Previously, the only way there was via small boat.

Progress? Doubtful.

Still, a short walk up the jungle river takes you away from the tourists with cell phones on the steep beach to a tropical existence we dream about in the U.S., a tropical existence that is certainly at poverty level by American standards. But the people here in Yelapa are rich in ways we strive for. The locals have a tranquility you will never see in a shopping mall in the U.S. (or most living rooms), and even though they sleep in a hammocks, they don’t seem to worry if their hammock is a little threadbare compared to their neighbors — if they even see their neighbors who might be in a hut a hundred yards away.

Returning back to Paradise Village Marina (sometimes called Southern California South or Gringo Gulch) was a shock, where the talk was all about how the governor of California has decided to take out after already dispirited school teachers by instituting a dog-eat-dog merit pay system and try to dismantle the public employees’ retirement system which is one of the most successful in the world. With the teachers, he has an easy target. After all, a California teacher confronted with a classroom of students, only half of whom speak English, is assumed to be a slacker. Why can’t she/he teach the Russian, Hmong, Vietnamese, Chinese or Spanish-speaking students and meet the wacky standards of the federal No Child Left Behind Act. (An act which the federal government has not funded, just demanded results.)

The pension fund provides a greater challenge because the people running it are about a smart a group as you can find. If they actually ran California, the state wouldn’t be in such bad shape financially.

All of that seems quite distant from Yelapa, where 10 pesos (90 cents) still buys you a cold Pacifico beer and the fresh fish at the palapas on the beach is delicious and almost as cheap as the beer.

In fact, it’s time to pick up my boogie board and head out to the Paradise Village beach for one of those beers and perhaps a hamburguesa con papas fritas (yup, burger and fries). It’s not Yelapa, but it sure beats the alternatives to the north or listening to the Fox Nut Network.

mjf

Of politicians, quality teaching and aerobatics

So for two hours today, it was university politics, with a state university trustee at the front of the meeting room and the usual annoying questions from me in the peanut gallery (aka Faculty Senate). But the fun of asking annoying -- and to the point -- questions, is what makes journalism fun for me. I knew that at least half of the answers were going to make their way into stories and the other half of the information would suggest things I should be writing about.

And, boy, are there things I should be writing about.

In the late 1980s, all we talked about at journalism conventions was how the new computer technologies were taking over the profession -- and we loved the new technologies.

But we stopped talking about ethics, morals and standards and I think the price we paid is now evident on television in places like the Fox Nut Network. Oops, I mean Fox News Network. In print, it's harder to decipher, unless you read USA Today.

So in the University setting, all we hear about is money and budget, budget and money. No one asks about how it is going in the classroom, or if we can accommodate the influx of students, or, most important, if the quality of instruction in the classroom is what it was, say, even five years ago.

The question isn't asked because the quality has slipped as faculty have become overburdened with too many students, too few resources and a bureaucracy that is numbing the number of arcane rules it imposes that result in the stifling of creativity and discourage faculty from doing the teaching that's needed.

Still, it was a good day, because my questions made a few people (faculty and administrators) think about the issue of quality instruction and what we have to do to preserve it.

And, journalistically, I picked up a couple of story ideas that I will publish to keep the fires burning.

That's a good day, for a writer. And a good way to avoid thinking about going up in a small plane in 36 hours to do a few barrel rolls.

Up, up and away, soon enough.

mjf 12/0/04