With the backstay kinda cobbled together with stripped life line, 8-10 ubolts and our genoa patched up, we were hopeful we could limp along the coast a few miles off shore for the short run from Rio Lagartos to Isla Mujeres. How hard can it be? A bus can make a land run to the ferry at Puerto Juarez, Cancun in 4 and half hours. 153 km. A day and a half and we should be in sunny Isla Mujeres enjoying access to diesel, water, currency and repair supplies!
We filed a float plan with our shore contact and headed out with many things on our mind, including procuring more diesel and not overly stressing our compromised rig.
We motored out approx 15 miles with hopes to find diesel at El Cuyo harbor. Holbox island was closer, but according to the charts had only 2 feet of water so our best best was to try El Cuyo harbor which appeared to have ample water depth, diesel and a tricky, narrow approach but this should be doable. We motor sailed with a reefed main sail alone and headed east up the coastline to El Cuyo.
As we approached El Cuyo, I watched as the fishing pangas navigated the narrow entrance to the harbor. The Green Pemex sign was like a beacon of hope, just the end of the harbor. I too, was momentarily bedazzled stupid by the prospect of ample stores of black gold. Then I looked at the pangas again. Something about the way they were maneuvering the entrance gave me pause. “Mark, this looks really sketch. Are you sure its not too shallow?” I queried. “The charts indicate plenty of water, you don’t know what you are talking about”. Mark replied. My anxiety prone brain kicked in and I had to stop and ask myself ‘is this a real reason to be this nervous or is this in my head’? I felt like it was a very real reason in my gut but Mark had instructed me to keep quiet so he could concentrate, so I kept silent.
Much to Mark’s chagrin, he found that my anxiousness was real and that charts lie and sometimes you really should trust your crew’s gut feeling. We found ourselves hard aground, on a lee shore. We immediately dropped our anchor and let out scope to prvent us from being washed up on the shore. The pangas continued to whiz by us. What ensued for the next 2 hours while we waited for the tide to rise was stressful, uncomfortable and an experience I would very much like to not experience again.
After almost 3 hours, during which time I made and we ate dinner because what else were you going to do? Boat was secured and we adjusted as necessary and now it was just wait for the tide. A bumpy, bouncy, slammy wait for the tide so might as well have a nice tea. I cleaned up after tea, and we prepared to leave El Cuyo which had definitely removed all of the newly applied bottom paint from the keel and failed to deliver any fuel to our tanks. Of course.
As the tide came up and darkness fell, we kedged off our anchor until the water was over 8 feet deep. We turned on the engine and motored out to begin the offshore sail of this passage. As the harbor lights faded from view, we wove past poorly lit fishing vessels making their way back to El Cuyo. As the stars began to light up the night sky, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I feel so much more at peace and comfortable with a good bit of distance between the boat and land. Isla Mujeres was within our reach, keep going…
