Feliz Navidad

Whut's up?

What's down?

Am I losing touch?

Or tapping in?

There's no sure answer but these things I know.

1. I'm allowed PANCAKES even though they're not on the employee menu at El Cardon.

2. I can do things in waves with the kite that I've never seen before.

3. Smoking cigarettes is really stupid.

4. Down here my opinions are respected and my presence is almost always welcome.

5. Helping blow up the Bay of Dreams is appealing.

6. The only thing to fear here is myself.

7. Tonight's party is going to be interesting.

8. Gotta go kiting...NOW.

Suerte, Amigos

MAX

SOME THOUGHTS AS WE DIVE INTO BIZNASS.

Hola Amigos,

Go ahead, noone ever reads this stuff anyway...

Why yes, wealthy diners of El Cardon, that is Faith No More covering Lionel Ritchie's "Easy Like Sunday Morning"... flowing right into "Boogie On Reggae Woman" by Stevie Wonder. Por que no. Bienvenidos a La Casa de Gringos Locos. Eat it up.

The severely mangled power plug flickers green and orange and "off" on my aging iBook G4...

...signalling seriously variable flow of energy.

I can relate.

Symbolic little white bastard, this computadora is a gift of the governement by way of annulled Student Loans. My easy out of Medical School? Medical Hardship... Mountain Madness... hopeless case. RUN!

On again. Off again. On again. Off again.

A security light in a neighborhood where the kids play DITCH... nightly... over what's shaping up to be an endless summer.

Diving into Sinatra "That's Life"... Screamin' J Hawkins "I Put A Spell On You"... G Love "Track 13" on Yeah, Its That Easy... never did know that perfect song's name.

In my typically assbackwards fashion I've apparently decided to make it rich at the time when world economies are crumbling... most notably, our own.

But hey, I'm in Mexico, and all those aging rats have to jump ship to somewhere.

My "Director of Fun" title could just as easily be "Cheesemaker".

It fits. The whole scenario fits.

I think I'm not selling out... but who knows. The whole situation is so weird that I'm just riding the wave clownishly stylie.

What would you do? Bail out before El Viaje even began?! YEP.

Fela Kuti "Jayen Jayen"... into a schmere of old reggae.

Anyway, I've got this...

... whatever I want at what I hope will be the coolest restaurant when we're through... already magical... El Cardon.
.... the nicest bed I've ever slept alone in.
... a campfire every night.
... an office without walls.
... kiteboarding whenever it blows.
... something almost worth doing...giving benefit to the doubt.
... a boat in the bay.
...seriously wide open prospects.

So I'm rolling... right over to a table full of new friends with a CROWN and CROWN and HIELO in my hand.

CIAO.

Max

SHAMELESS PUBLICITY

WORK THAT WE DO

Hey All,

Things are rolling along here in Mexico.

I've given up on living in the boat and have moved into the "guesthouse" over the 8 car garage. We've got heavy curtains so I can decide to wake with the sun or not.

I may move back to the sailboat once we've got the dinghy motor running again. Forced paddling to and fro clinched the big move...a huge pain in the ass.


We put in a dinghy dock yesterday... which also makes things way sweeter... for everyone.

My motivation on this business excursion is getting in and out in a matter of months with enough money for a BLANGIN' new old boat.


A 50 foot stormproof floating home... I need one to really get gone. La Sin Fin, tough as she is, would last maybe a season in Patagonia.

Anyone interested in buying a boat can take La Sin Fin and her pimpin' dinghy off my hands for $8000. Worth every penny here in the Sea of Cortez. Perfect stomping grounds for Sinny, these.

Unfortunately, I don't have time to sail... too busy kiting... and farting around on the interweb.

CHECK IT: www.downwindkiting.com

THANKS MODENA!

Years of restaurant work have left me pretty damn qualified to help get this restaurant up to speed so I'm on that too. Its fun as hell.

CHECK IT: www.elcardon.com.mx

BEST BURGER AND FRIES IN BAJA.

So that's that. The trip is continuing but in a weirder way.

The boss says some Reality TV folks are coming to shoot a pilot. WTF!?!?

I'll cross that burning bridge when it comes.

HASTA LUEGO, TRABAJADORES!


MAX

Changing The Game

Hola Amigos,

The Trip Without End has found one... or at least an extended stop. Vamos a veer.

Sometimes a wave of fate overtakes you and completely redirects your flow. Powerless to swim against it, you can get swept along... or stand up and enjoy the ride. Mack and I are dropping in.

Amongst the hundred new friends we've made on this trip, three stand out, both in stature and drive.

Kyle, Mike, and Dwight are three former NFL players stoked to kite. They snowboard and surf so the folks at Elevation Kiteboarding should have no problem getting them riding.

Kyle is a hell of a guitar player too.


When not getting after it, they enjoy the good life here in Bahia De Los Sueños (The Bay of Dreams), aka Ensenada De Los Muertos (Cove of the Dead).

I prefer "Cove of the Dead", but it doesn't flow with the general vibe here, so "Bay of Dreams" is it.

It fits.

We've been offered the opportunity to start my dream business, offering boat-assisted, guided downwind kiteboarding excursions. We'll also be setting up and managing a rental fleet of stand up paddle boards, kayaks, snorkel gear, and other toys for the bay.

This is paradise. The sky's the limit.

Everything we need has been handed to us. The boat. The jetski. The truck. We've even got a place to stay, but I'm insisting to remain anchored out in the Bay on La Sin Fin.

My title? Director of Fun.

The company name? Downwind Kiting.

A temporary website should be up tomorrow.

I guess the oilfreefun has been postponed. Big whoop.

YIP YIP!

LOBSTER BISQUE A LA SIN FIN

Homeless, jobless, and away from civilization for weeks at a time, it is the little LUXURIES that keep us safely nestled to the bosom of consumerism-based society.

What LUXURIES do I speak of?

Comfortable seating? Nope.

Socializing? On a good day we didn't have to talk.

The company of exotic women? We didn't see a woman under 40 for three weeks.

Long showers? We rarely had enough water to DRINK. Three weeks without a bath... check the hair.

Alcohol? We ran out three miles South of Playa De Caca. I found myself singing hymns from childhood after 18 days of forced sobriety.

Electricity? The generator works "when it feels like it"... just like us. I guess that's fair.

Music? Mac's ukelele rendition of "Wish You Were Here" is heartwrenching... but only the first 300 times you hear it. These albums saved our lives.

Food? Bingo.

Max set off exploring in hopes of a few hours of solitude. The king of all crabs led him to a lobster trap on the other side of the mountain. Now we eat well.


Plus, a man can only stomach so much oatmeal.

Our cooking methods left a bit to be desired but dankness was achieved.


Big things went down in the middle of writing this post. So its done.

I'll explain.

MOVIE TIME!

Yesterday I watched a movie for the first time in two months. It was pretty awesome to be able to totally zone out for a few hours.

"The Perfect Storm" starring George Clooney and Marky Mark.

Apparently, I can't get enough of this ocean shit.

Here's some videos we made.

Mexican dolphins off the bow.

More hot naked dolphin action.



This is an old one... from off the coast of NORCAL... and nowhere near as SHAKEY... almost pleasant to watch.

We were rolling over MONSTER swell... so big you can't even tell. The wind was pefect and we were running with it. The boat was hitting 11-13 mph on every face. It felt like a mellow rollercoaster.

Mavericks broke for the first time of the season the next day. We were still hundreds of miles away... fast waves.

It kind of shows the perfect vibe on the boat... much of the time things are really shitty... a floating NAUSOLEUM/FEARFACTORY... but once in a while its pretty fucking pleasant.

You'll see.



Later.

SO GOOD...

Hey All,

After three weeks hunting for wind and waves and drinking buddies in the middle of nowhere, we've arrived in the epicenter of the kiteworld... LA VENTANA, B.C.S... aka PARADISE(?!).

I'm rudely blogging at BAJA JOES while great folks chat. There's no time for internet nonsense when there's life to live everywhere outside this screen.

We made it.

It was awesome.

Made some great new friends.

Caught some fish.

Swam with friendly rays and grumpy sea lions.

Didn't miss a sunrise or sunset... and even did a little kitesurfing.

Gotta go.

MAX

Bienvenidos De Playa De Caca!

Hey All,

I give up trying to make these Mexican computers do my bidding. You'll see what I mean.

Good sleep, good kiting, and good times have made things a lot less scattered but technologocal monkeybusiness will make this post semi-nonsensical. Here goes, anway... in no particular order thanks to technologia fea.

We've gotten to kite the last few days and today looks to be similarly windy. Bahia de Tortugas is pretty good for SURVIVAL KITING if you don't mind swimming in water reminiscent of piss... I think there are just too many birds pooping in the water... at least that's what I'm telling myself.

There is a good reefbreak at the mouth of the Bahia if you have the cajones to go there... any technical problems or lack of wind and you're looking at a three mile swim and prickly eight mile hike (at best). Scaling cliffs slippery with eons of accumulated pelican poop is more likely.

We're getting our boatlaunching down, as you'll see in this exceptionally lame, disordered, lopsided, "sequence".

Away you go!

Pull and pray.

Sort the tangles.

Nice and easy...

All set? I hope so.

These Canadians apparently know even less about sailing than us. This gigantic Mexican fishing boat brutalized their hull and mast because they anchored way too close to everyone... us included. I had to get up and move us in the middle of the night to avoid them. I gues this kind of crap is pretty typical.

The Bahia San Quintin "Yacht Club". This was the only other sailboat in the bay... aside from one permanently beached. It is mastless, motorless, and heaped with bird poop. A far cry from San Diego Bay.

This is our friend Miguel. He is a pervert who did our laundry. We paid him with a blowup doll and tube of lube. He was beyond stoked. From what I gather, he'll be able to "fiesta" with BETTY VISCIOUS, punk slut, while is wife is at "la inglesia". I'd say he's shameless but he made me give him a black trashbag to avoid a walk of shame through the pueblo.

Actually, he's a great dude and a heck of a businessman.

I speared one of these before I knew you weren't supposed to... not because they're endangered... just because they're orange. There were thousands of them and he tasted pretty good so I'm not kicking myself over it.

Spearfishing is the funnest thing ever. So far this is my biggest catch. We made him into fish tacos.

After giving him three shots of expensive, delicious Sailor Jerry Rum, this Bonita still wasn't dead so we had to resort to more drastic measures. It looks brutal but I guarantee he felt no pain... plus, doesn't Mac look happy! Hooray for fishing!

With no moon lately and 13 hour nights, sunrises are a welcome occurance. Shortly after, the wind picked up to 10-12 and we had the best day of sailing yet.

Nothing beats sipping tea with honey while looking forward to a day of perfect cruising.

Mac doing his Spanish homework on the anchor here in Bahia De Tortugas. I sleep in the cockpit. Mexico has great sleeping weather.

Frying fish in the middle of the ocean on a little Coleman stove can be stressful.

But we've been eating pretty well. Honey-glazed, spicy-mexicitalian-style Bonita bites go well with pesto parmesean pasta. I cropped Mack's head out of this picture to protect him from the fashion faux pas he was committing.

Where does one find such a shirt? Abandoned in the laundry room in Two Harbors, Catalina Island. What a score!

We'll kite here today and set sail tonight. Our next stop is Bahia Santa Maria near the monsterous Bahia Magdalena. The forecast looks light throughout Baha but it looks like great surfing for the next five days.

From there, if all geos well, it'll be Cabo San Lucas... a mere 100 miles from where friends await in La Ventana.

It'll be great to see some familiar faces.

Sailing Is Sleep Deprivation

Hey Amigos,

Well... we´re in Mexico... NO DOUBT ABOUT THAT. Everything else is a blur.

I´ve got some great photos but they are unpostable at the internet cafe/furniture store here in Bahia De Tortugas.

Incidentally, fisherman, upset with a failed negotiation, dumped hundreds of thousands of rotten sardines in the Bahia... now there are hundreds of pelican, thousands of seagulls, and millions of cute little newly hatched flies.

We left San Diego with PERFECT conditions and the miles flew by... as did the days. We caught (and speared) some delicious fish. The dolphins came to visit. The wind died. Then the wind blew so strongly La Sin Fin felt like a cheap plastic EasterEgg. We anchored at Isla San Martin and Bahia San Quintin and now here at Bahia De SARDINEFUNK (sic Tortugas).

Most importantly, I haven´t slept in a week. I´m too tired to make sense. Plus, we haven't gotten to kite for about a week and a half so the boat is feeling pretty small.

On the bright side, we did get to surf a few times. And our anchorage here is snug enough to relax. And the flies will probably subside in a day or two. And, it is supposed to NUKE for the next four days...

... sideoff... in the middle of nowhere... a six mile kite and mile walk south of where we´re anchored looks like the best potential.

So here we are. Gotta go.

Finalmente!

Hey Everyone,

After a couple expensive days in San Diego we're finally taking the plunge over the border... as soon as the fog burns off.

There are 200 other sailboats departing San Diego for Mexico today. I wish we had a waterballoon launcher... and radar for afterdark navigation.

Final preparations would have been a lot more difficult if not for the help of our new friends Ron, Lori, Mel, and Inga.

Saying Ron and Lori took us under their wings is the understatement of the century. Ten minutes after docking we were eating fried egg sandwiches on their beautiful boat. Without Ron's advice, patience, and generosity we would've never gotten done what we needed to here.


Installing the Crow's Nest.


Mac experimenting with desalinization systems.


The Junkyard.

We bought a new motor, a couple hundred dollars in groceries, and another couple hundred bucks in other essentials.

Then we got your packages.

WOW!

The boat is barely afloat. I'll be sleeping atop a SNACK MOUNTAIN for the next month.

Look for progressively fatter dudes in upcoming photos.

EVERYONE who sent something wins the Baja Kite Vacation of a lifetime. Get in touch and we'll start hashing out plans.

Special thanks to...
Walt and Reed from Bend (we're hanging her atop the mast at dawn),
Brian and Brady Bates (everything but the Spam... although Hickery Smoked and Lite varieties entice),
Nico at Bay Area Kitesurf (stylie!)
Naish Nick (one step closer to our kite sail)
Mom and Dad Mogren (the uniforms will undoubtedly intimidate Mexican authorities)
Brad and the Cotter Crew (who knew Von's would deliver such profanely delightful food)
and, of course, Mel and Inga

We're heading to Bahia San Quintin (about 200 miles) and then Bahia Tortugas (about 400 miles). I doubt we'll have internet access for at least a week.

The wind looks light until the 2nd so we'll probably keep sailing as much as possible. Hopefully the FINDMESPOT works and anyone interested can track our progress.

The next post will be more exciting. Guaranteed.


Hasta Luego!

It's Called Gratitude...

On Catalina Island, we discovered the best six-dollar breakfast in the world, masticated, no less, in paradise.


2800 fillingly empty calories later we breezed the 100 miles to San Diego.

Experimenting with new light wind tactics, we broadened our abilities to travel while simultaneously sticking it to the man.

Old Mother Nature can do you no greater honor than bestowing a dolphin escort to your little boating adventure.

Straddling the bow with six of the big, beautiful beasts playing a foot below your toes is incredible. Momentarily, you're completely tapped into the source.



They're smarter than us. Mac and I proved it.

Dolphins don't even consider eating SPAM... let alone half-gallons of cheap ice cream. They don't pollute or fight or buy stupid crap or freak out either.

In fact, dolphins, when not enjoying scientifically-documented recreational sex, just munch healthy fish and bust sweet aqua-acrobatics.

This obviously prompts the question:

Who's really Top Dog on old planet Earth?

Two Monkeys F*#%in' a Football

Hey Friends!

Greetings from the Land of Light (and occassionally Toxic) Wind!

SOCAL!

Specifically, Two Harbors, Catalina Island... a short jaunt across the waters from SMOGBOUND Los Angeles.

Sailing in here, a strong Santa Ana from the NE felt like sucking a tailpipe. 30 miles from shore, I couldn't help but inhale the nonsense of LA. Meanwhile, as dolphins played around the boat, I took a look at the GPS and noticed we're sailing over a "CHEMICAL MUNITIONS DUMPING ZONE".

Sunrises have been creepily greenish purple.


Carcinogens aside, this beautifully rugged island is the namesake of La Sin Fin. She is, after all, a Catalina 27'.

Being in the mellow waters La Sin Fin was designed for, I wonder what the hell we were doing sailing it along the Oregon Coast in October.

Supposedly, it'll be a breeze from here to Cabo.

Palm trees!

Cacti!

Little Lizards!

Cocktails with umbrellas!

They're all here.

The border is a mere day's sail away... if only we had wind, a reliable motor, and a zillion other little things squared away. It looks like we'll be in San Diego into next week.

IF... if... if..

we make it the 100 miles to San Diego. With minimal wind we'll be relying on our "spare" motor to putt us along... a feisty but occasionally grumpy 1984 Honda 10 horse.

The Mercury 25 won't start no matter how much we fiddle with it.

Maybe "oilfreefun" wasn't the best URL. But we're trying.

Enough of the negatives.

The trip from Santa Cruz proved note worthily awesome.

We left Santa Cruz an hour before twilight to avoid 102 dollars worth of bullshit.

The wind picked up and it was smooth sailing to beautifully tainted Morro Bay.


Beautiful because of the mountains, sea life, and beaches.

Tainted by the 500 foot smokestacks of this powerplant looming over the entire bay... and a shitty vibe.

Unfortunately, the wind was too light for kiting so we decided our stay would be very short... two hours tops.

The kiting around Morro Bay is undoubtedly really, really good.

Mid afternoon we pulled up at what we ASSUMED was the gas dock, picked up a few gallons, "confirmed" we could tie up there a few hours, and went for a pizza.

"BROSEF, I'M GONNA HOOK YOU UP FAT!"

Apparently, all the dudes working in all the pizza joints in Cali say this. And they do hook it up. A seven dollar pitcher of Sierra Nevada and triple toppings attested to that.

Hooray for hookups!

Appetites vanquished in preparation for a little foray from civilization, we returned to the "GAS DOCK" to find our boat had been moved by a commercial fishing husband and wife team of questionable sobriety.

Apparently, we had parked in their spot. The Harbormaster had to move our boat. Folks were irate. Apparently, we'd committed a grave offense.

While she reamed me out, I offered infinite apologies at the misunderstanding.

The husband had disappeared in search of the authorities.

Mac nonchalantly readied La Sin Fin.

A prompt departure needed to be made.

Realizing we were taking off, the ass-reamer switched from "turbobitch" to "nice-lady" mode, encouraging us to stay for the night.

"You don't want to go out there. The weather's gonna be SNOTTY. Stay tied up right there."

Lady, you're snotty. And devious.

Clearing the jetty at full throttle Mac and I couldn't help but crack up. Seriously?!?!

Hopefully there'd be no one to judge and fine us on the uninhabited, westernmost of the Channel Islands: San Miguel.

Incidentally, the weather was pretty damn "SNOTTY" going around Conception Point in the middle of the night. The camera captured the essence of my seasickness and fear.


My vision may be blurry but I can tell the bastard is smiling. Thank God for the full moon or we'd have been flying blind out there.

Midmorning, still dealing with 30+ knot winds, we pulled into a deserted bay on a deserted island and scratched our heads about where best to drop the hook amid the kelp forest.

Our only neighbors were the biggest, noisiest, fightingest, fartiest Sea Lions imaginable.

The boat snugly anchored (or so we thought), we took off exploring in the dinghy.


The sailboat is way in the background of the above picture.

We carried lots of crap up big steep hillsides.


And found the best secret kite beach ever.


There's half of it. Here's the other half.


It was a good time. 20 knots with nice waves.

After a sleepless (for Max) night on the anchor, the wind picked up even more the next day. Gusting over 35, the anchor drug into some kelp and got seriously fouled.

Things were a little hairy for a while but eventually relative safety was restored. Then we went kiting again.

Winds subsided the next day and we set sail again.

Conditions? Perfect.


While I'm reading, Mac is strumming his ukulele.

He's really getting into the spirit of the whole trip.


Sometimes, I can barely recognize him.

Me? I'm still freaking out and stressing occasionally. I think once we're south of the border I'll be able to relax a little more.

The new autopilot, "BEBE JESUS" (pronounced BAY-BAY HEY-ZEUS), is without a doubt our little personal savior.


Multiday sails are a breeze with that little bastard manning the tiller.

As Cool Hand Luke prophetically put it:

"I don't care if it rains or freezes as long as I've got my plastic Jesus..."

This post is going nowhere and the wind is picking up and there's oodles to do so its time to wrap it up.

We're headed to San Diego NOW. Mac's mom is flying down to visit and we're very excited about that.

After a few days of final preparations, we're finally and truly GONE.

Incidentally, yesterday marked the 1 month mark of this little viaje! We haven't sunk ANYTHING yet! We celebrated with a nip of Sake.

We're 4/7ths of the way to Cabo and halfway to La Ventana.

Mexico is so close that my bowels are already agitated. Vamos!

Hasta Luego, Chés Locos.

Santa Cruzin' and A CONTEST!

We left San Fran around noon and made it to Santa Cruz at about 2 am.

Its a funky city with great kiting and surfing. Unfortunately, there's no wind or swell currently so we're moving on.

The little time we spent here proved fun. Many folks seem laid back and with it. Lots of cruiser bikes and longboards.

Max bought spearfishing gear and can't stop fondling it.

Check this dude out. Badass. Obviously, I didn't take this picture.


What's he gonna do now?

Big thanks to Shawn from Wainman Hawaii for showing us around, taking us to the only vegetarian post-apocalyptic 50's burger joint on the planet (The Saturn... delicious), and shuttling us to the grocery store and gas station.

A $52 "parking ticket" from the Marina coupled with another $50 in dock fees has us leaving before dawn. Calling in the Coast Guard is highly unlikely; we're a very small fish in a very big pond.

The wind is forecasted to build for the next few days, peaking on Wednesday.

Our goal is to get around the last big Cape in the US, Conception Point, en route to the uninhabited San Miguel Island, about 230 miles South.

We're hoping to anchor here:


Here's the island.


The bay is on the NE side. There looks to be epic kiting over the ridge on the NW side. It's supposed to nuke with moderate swell on Monday-Wednesday, so hopefully we get to kite our faces off.

From here, we're planning on heading about 130 miles to Two Harbors on Santa Catalina Island for more supplies. Then its another 100 mile jaunt to San Diego.

Speaking of San Diego... we have a mailing address there!

Mac and Max
c/o Mel and Inga Holmes
1118 Hornbeam Court
Hemet, CA 92545

Here's the contest. Whoever sends us the most delicious or useful or funny items, wins.

Think, "If I were stranded on a desert island with three things, what would they be?"

Winner gets the Baja Kite vacation of their lifetime. You get to Cabo or La Paz and we take care of the rest. Also, all submissions will be made note of publicly.

As long as you get it there before next Friday, we'll get it.

Gotta go. Sun's comin' up.

We'll have internet again in about a week.

Hasta Luego!

SCIENCE!

Greetings From the Golden Gate

Hey All,

It turns out San Francisco is the land of the free lunch. This makes sense, given their collective propensity for getting rich off of cyberspace.

So far, no luck in that department for us hobo yachtsmen despite this awesome website.

We got here at dawn yesterday. The view was surreal. The full moon to the West. The sun just about to peek out to the East.

The pictures turned out like ass. We need a real camera.

Coming into the Bay in twilight we were terrified of getting run over by one of these.


There was a guy rowing around in a racing hull out in the Bay in the dark. He was, without a doubt, the craziest yuppie bastard I've ever seen.


We're staying at the Golden Gate Yacht Club, about a mile inside the bay. The view of the Golden Gate, Alcatraz, and assorted other stuff is surreal. We're right next to this place:


THE PALACE OF THE FINE ARTS

Clearly, we've landed in the creme de la creme of San Fran. Suprisingly, there are little shitty boats like ours docked up next to SUPERYACHTS in the marina here.

So far, noone has asked us to pay for our slip, so we haven't. SUSS!

Yesterday, we rallied the dinghy 12 miles to Alameda for a new Simrad Autopilot. 530 dollars later, we're right back where we started.

En route we passed the most expensive sailboat ever built (seriously). We couldn't help but laugh.


This beast is several hundred feet long. WHY?

To reiterate, viagra is cheaper, tough guy.

We went out for dinner yesterday with old friends and for breakfast this morning with Nico from Bay Area Kite Surf.

As alluded earlier, we didn't have to drop a dime on food. Thanks, amigos ricos!

San Fran is amazing but it can't do justice to the image of it I have in my mind.


Gone are the days. Joggers, yuppies, and technophiles are all I see. Not a legit hippie in sight.

Maybe we're in the wrong neighborhood.

Regardless, the wind is too light to kite but good for sailing, so we're rolling South.

It's a voyage of self-discovery... sailing along, boldly asking the tough questions:


DO SEALS LIKE SPAM?

Ciao!