Two old sailors. Will they know when it’s time to quit?
In late July, Kent and I (Linnea) drove from Albuquerque to San Carlos, Sonora, Mexico, to see a 1977 Chung Hwa thirty-six-foot ketch listed at a bargain price.
It was a hot trip, with stops for green chile cheeseburgers at the Owl Bar in San Antonio, NM, and an overnight at the historic Palace Hotel in funky, picturesque Silver City, where Kent got a haircut and we watched karaoke at the friendly Little Toad Creek Brewery. Everybody was friendly in Silver City, including the guy who must have slept somewhere on the street.
Silver City haircut.
Palace Hotel in downtown Silver City. And we sold a book to the bookshop next door!
We bumped along bumper to bumper through downtown Nogales to cross the border into Mexico on Saturday morning. After three or four hours and a few wrong turns, we found our way to Hermosillo and San Carlos.
We had an hour to look at the boat, still filled with the belongings of the deceased owner. When Kent saw the storage fees for the Marina Seca and the amount of work the boat would probably require, he decided to forget it.
Checking out the dreamboat
We spent two days exploring what San Carlos has to offer, visiting a scenic overlook, a couple of beaches, and some funky places beyond the paved road. Our modest motel had good air conditioning and wifi and was within a fifteen-minute walk of the restaurants, shops, and bars along the marina’s waterfront.
Beached sailor Kent in San Carlos, Sonora
But, when we got back to Green Valley, Arizona, after an almost two-hour wait to cross the border into the USA, Jim Sollars, another sailor and native of Sheridan, Wyoming, was excited about the boat. We’d first met Jim in February through his brother Sheldon, Kent’s high school classmate.
Jim had sailed the Pacific twice, once alone and once with his wife and two daughters. His late wife, Ginny, published Windswept, the story of the family’s three years aboard their boat, Holokiki. Jim more recently published A Bachelor’s Paradise, filled with wild tales of his years as a young, single sailor.
After pizza for dinner, Jim and Kent stayed up late, drinking homemade rum, telling stories, and convincing themselves that two old men could take off into the Pacific on an almost fifty-year-old boat that may need considerable work.
“It would make a good story, anyway,” I said as I headed to bed with a good book, leaving the octogenarians to their plans and dreams.
“Maybe I’ll meet you in Puerto Vallarta, Hawaii, or Fiji.”
Kent has an appointment with the Neptune Society this week.
“Ask them,” I said. “If your body is lost at sea, will you get your money back?”
Stay tuned.
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