C’est La Vie’s return from Veracruz, Mexico, to South Padre Island, Texas.

Written by John Davis, crewman on the “C’est La Vie”.

C'est La Vie, led by Captain Russell Orr was one of two WYC boats to complete the 2000 Veracruz "Regata de Amigos" race from Galveston to Veracruz. John writes about the return trip.

Having arrived at DFW airport early we still decided that Grady would drop me off and not wait for the flight to take-off.  I kissed her good-bye and headed into the American Airline terminal to get my boarding pass.

The flight was three hours and due south.  Flying into Mexico City for the first time was of some concern, because I don't speak Spanish, but checking through Mexican Customs was non-eventful.  I was able to get some U.S. currency changed into Pesos for the cab ride to the docks in Veracruz, without incident.  The transfer to Mexicana Airlines went smooth and I found myself in the Veracruz airport looking for my cousin  Denny.  Seeing no one I knew in the Airport, I headed for the Taxi area and asked about getting to the Veracruz area called the Malecon where the sailboats were docked.

Arriving at the docks, I could see the masts of the sailboats past the sea-wall swaying in the wind.  As I walked up the dock I saw Denny coming to greet me.  I thought to myself, “the adventure begins”. 

Veracruz is a pretty little town and the people seemed to be very friendly.  Denny and I walked to, “C’est La Vie”, the 46 foot (Peters designed Formosa built) sailboat that was to be our home for the next week.  Everything had gone smoothly and it boded to be a uneventful although exciting trip back to South Padre Island via several Mexican port cities and island stops.

At about 6:00 PM there was a loud thump, our boat had hit against Voyager, the Vagabond 47 moored next to us and caused some damage to our deck bright work.  We took up some line on “C’est La Vie’s” anchor and rearranged the boat fenders so that we would not be drifting westward and hitting the boat next to us again.  The rocking was caused by a Mexican Navy PT boat that had entered the harbor at high speed.

Having arrived in Veracruz on Saturday, the day of the Galveston to Veracruz race award dinner, I changed into walking shorts to match my Galveston to Veracruz 2000 T-shirt. The award dinner was very pleasant and the entertainment, musicians and dancers, was wonderful.  Awards were given for various categories and everyone had a great time.  A special award went to a 19 year old skipper of a small, 26 foot, sailboat, “High Hopes”, for finishing the race when over half of the larger boats dropped out.  “C’est La Vie” did not get any awards but was second in estimating the closest time of arrival.

Sunday morning wake up on “C’est La Vie” was exciting, we planned to depart Veracruz at about 10:00 AM and make for Tuxpan, Mexico, an overnight sail from our current port.  Denny, Russ (“C’est La Vie’s” captain), Mike and I got up dressed and headed for breakfast at the local, airconditioned, restaurant.  Russ was told that the Harbor Master’s representative was to be available at the hotel across from the boats at 10:00 AM.  He planned to be there promptly to get his exit papers stamped so that we could depart, without being shot out of the water by the Mexican Navy.  Tom and Gerry (Tom’s significant other), who had spent the night at the local hotel  joined us for breakfast. 

Russ asked Tom and Gerry to go to the local WalMart and get needed provisions of food, water, ice and oil.  Denny asked Tom if he and I could use their fresh water shower while they were gone.  We were pleased to have this little luxury of hygiene before facing a long trip with only the prospect of saltwater showers ahead.

Upon getting back to the boat after taking a shower, we found that Russ had not yet found anyone to stamp our exit papers.  Russ was getting agitated and wanted to get underway.  Sometime later Tom and Gerry arrived with the provisions and we loaded the boat in anticipation of a rapid departure.  It was after noon when Russ finally found someone to stamp our exit papers and “C’est La Vie” started to weigh anchor.  Denny and I hoisted the anchor and the adventure was actually starting.

The first leg of the voyage back to U.S. waters was to Tuxpan, a quaint little town an overnight sail, and seven miles up a river, from Veracruz.  Russ took us out of the Veracruz harbor and we headed North toward Tuxpan.  We established watches of two people per watch and four hours on watch at a time.  Russ and I took the 12:00 to 4:00, first watch.  I took over the wheel and after watching the compass, in rolling seas, I promptly got sea sick.  Gerry was also getting sea sick and we both took more sea sickness pills.  I went down to the cabin to try and sleep it off and was able to get to sleep.  The next morning I was back to semi-normal and was again able to do my assigned tasks, although, I could not yet eat.  Gerry was also feeling better but was upset with Tom for allegedly having misled her about coming on this trip.  Tom had painted a beautiful picture of a tropical cruise without any sea sickness involved.  Such is life on the high seas.

We were approaching Tuxpan and everyone was on the lookout for the mouth of the river and the jetties.  It was a clear day and the river traffic was light.  We saw a fishing boat and an oil rig servicing boat coming out of the mouth of the river as we approached.  Trying to find the river navigation markers in daylight was not an easy task but we were able to stay near the center of the river and felt safe.  We also had GPS way points set in and could use those for navigation.  As we approached a curve in the river, we were able to see several sailboat masts swaying in the breeze.  We approached a small group of three boats and slid between them to set our plow anchor.  Although we were later told that others had tried to set an anchor in our location and failed, our anchor stuck the first try.

After some discussion at dinner, Tom and Gerry checked into the hotel in order to smooth some of Gerry’s ruffled feathers for having suffered sea sickness during the run from Veracruz to Tuxpan. Good food, good drinks and good friends all contributed to a relaxing night in Tuxpan.  Russ, Denny, Mike and I returned to “C’est La Vie” at about 10:30 PM.  Anchored with the generator running, to provide air-conditioning, the night's sleep was also good.  

Morning trips to the “head” awakened me and Monday morning began.  Mike cooked eggs for breakfast and more importantly, Russ made coffee.  It had rained overnight and the cushions in the cockpit were wet.  We set the cushions aside, to air dry, and ate breakfast.  Tom and Gerry, ashore,  sent word to meet them at a dock a few hundred feet East of the anchorage.  There we were to take on ice, water and diesel fuel.  Denny and I hoisted the anchor and Russ started the engine, “C’est La Vie” was again free to cut her way through the water.  When we reached the dock area Russ slid the boat between two large fishing boats at the dock.  A new superstructure was be added to one of the boats and the boat to our west was taking on provisions.

During the trip from Veracruz to Tuxpan, Russ had noticed that the engines’ charging indicator, tachometer and oil pressure gauges were not working.  This stop had given us time to try to isolate the failed component, which was identified as the alternator.  Tom asked the manager of the fuel stop, who spoke English, if he knew of a place where we might get the alternator repaired or replaced.  The man said that he did and assigned one of his men to drive Tom to the repair shop and help him get the issue resolved.  Meanwhile, the rest of us continued to load and store the ice, water and fuel.

It had taken most of the morning to get the alternator reworked and cleaned.  Tom had returned and Mike, Denny and Russ worked to put the alternator back on the engine.  The engine was started and cheers went up as the alternator charging indicator, tachometer and oil pressure gauges began working.  It was now mid afternoon and too late to begin a trip to our next destination, Lobos Island, some 20 plus nautical miles away.  Russ decided to go back to the hotel anchorage and wait until morning to start our trip to the island.

This time we were not able to get a good anchor hook in the spot that we had anchored before and moved to a shallower area.  It was a very pleasant evening on “C’est La Vie” with light winds and moderate temperatures.  Russ started to prepare stuffed chicken for dinner but the smell of the chicken told us that it had gone bad and we tossed it overboard.  All utensils and cutting boards had to be scrubbed to prevent contamination. Meanwhile, Gerry had gone below and began making spaghetti, a salad and seasoned bread for dinner.  This was the best dinner we were to have aboard.  This evening, everyone slept aboard so that we could make an early departure to Lobos Island, the "Island of the Wolves".

The morning was again cool and fresh with a touch of tropical moisture in the air.  Russ was making coffee, the elixir of life, and everyone was coming alive.  Mike made his by now famous cheese, onion, green pepper and scrambled eggs breakfast to get the morning started off right.

Denny and I again started hulling up the anchor in preparation for departing for Lobos Island.  Russ brought “C’est La Vie” alive as the diesel engine pushed us into the middle of the river.  Fully provisioned and fully operational we headed for the moth of the river and the jetties, which marked the entrance into the Gulf of Mexico.  The only traffic we passed was an oil rig servicing boat, the same one we saw two days earlier, when first approaching the jetty.

It was a pleasant days motor sail; the wind was not favorable for sail only due to the North wind.  We were traveling through azure blue water to the island where we planned to do some diving and snorkeling.  The water at Lobos Island is known to be very clear with beautiful coral reefs all around.  The standard four hour two person watches was setup and the waves were running about three to five feet.  Russ said that he wanted to inspect the propeller and rudder to see if any damage occurred during the sail from Galveston to Veracruz when the drive shaft slipped back and hit the rudder.

Approaching Lobos Island, at about 5:15 PM, we could see the island lighthouse.  Russ asked everyone to try to get a good picture of the lighthouse because Carol (Russ’ wife) collected lighthouse pictures. Russ radioed ahead to two other boats, Voyager and ____, that were anchored on the Southwest side of the island where a reef was acting as a breaker for the waves, to see where the best place to anchor would be.  

The other boats had originally anchored on the west side of the west side of the island, and had moved their anchorage more to the south to get out of the rapidly building waves caused by the North wind. Russ moved “C’est La Vie” to the far Southwest of the rest of the boats and Denny and I released the plow anchor. 

Tom, Denny and I unrolled the dinghy on the forward deck and proceeded to inflate it.  About ten minutes later the dinghy was ready to put into the transparent water.  We lowered it into the water and attached the outboard motor.  Tom asked who wanted to go for the first ride and told Gerry to get into the dinghy.  Tom, Gerry, Denny and I were all in the dinghy and off we went to visit the other boats.

Russ and Mike were in the water inspecting “C’est La Vie’s” propeller, drive shaft and rudder assembly.  Russ yelled that everything looked good.  Russ and Mike decided to take a salt-water bath while they were wet.

The dingy crew approached the nearest anchored sail boat while its crew was eating dinner.  One of the crew members said that they were about to tune their radio into the weather report.  Everyone on the sailboat and in the dinghy listened intently, trying to hear the weather report.  The report struck fear in everyone.  There was a tropical depression in the Bay of Campeche off Veracruz, where we had come from a few days earlier.    An evil eye appeared in the clouds off Los Lobos as the sun set

It was a somber group that met in the cockpit that evening.  We discussed what the best strategy would be, back to Tuxpan and the protection of the river anchorage or a direct run North to South Padre Island.  Gerry’s eyes grew dark and starring directly at Tom she said that she was going to kill him for putting her in the middle of a hurricane.  Everyone tried to assure her that we did not know if this storm was going to develop or breakup and it was much too early to get too excited.  Everyone agreed that going back was only an option if a hurricane developed and we needed land shelter.  The best plan would be to head North to South Padre Island if the tropical depression started to breakup.  Having made our plans everyone settled back into their regular routine and waited for the next mornings weather report. 

We had decided to drop a second anchor for the night and Russ and Denny went forward to prepare the Danforth anchor to be set.  Tom and I got into the dingy and went to the bow to have the anchor handed down into the dingy so that the anchor could be taken forward and West of the current anchor.  Tom drove the dinghy to the point were Russ thought the anchor should be dropped and I dropped it over the side of the dinghy.  In the process of trying to set the anchor with the diesel engine, the use of reverse pulled the drive shaft out of the shaft coupling.  Tom and I returned to “C’est La Vie” and Tom and Russ began working on the drive shaft coupling.  Mike prepared to cut a shaft-locking key out of the remains of the screwdriver that had been used for this very thing on the trip from Galveston to Veracruz.  Russ and Tom managed to find the locking key, that had fallen out, and got the coupling back together but the use of reverse was no longer possible because the shaft would be pulled out again.  We decided that the engine would need to be kept running to keep forward pressure on the drive shaft.  Mike calculated the fuel availability for the expected trip to South Padre Island.  Mike determined that we had enough fuel with some reserve in the main tanks and had some 15-gallon of extra diesel fuel in jerry cans on deck.  Tom, Denny and I brought the dinghy on board and lashed to the foredeck handholds.

Mike put hot dogs in the microwave and dinner was hot dogs and chips. Even microwave hot dogs taste great on a boat in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico off a beautiful tropical island. Denny and I went on deck after dinner and prepared to take a saltwater bath, with our swimsuits still on.  Denny pulled up a bucket of salt water and used it to wet himself thoroughly.  Using Joy dishwashing soap, he washed himself with a washrag and then dumped seawater over himself to rinse off the soap.  I followed suit and then we both used the “bug sprayer” full of fresh water to rinse off the saltwater. Everyone seemed tired.  A little later the dingy had to be moved aft to allow the forward hatch to be opened for ventilation.  Soon a good nights sleep came upon our crew.

Morning was bright and clear.  As we came out on deck, the wind was light and fresh.  Russ had the coffee on and Mike was starting breakfast.  Everything seems better on a bright sun lit morning. Everyone was in good spirits although concerned about the pending weather report.  The radio came alive with the voice of our neighbor sailboat calling us.  The weather report had been received and the weather airplane reported that the tropical depression was starting to break up and not forming into a hurricane.  Everyone felt relief as Russ repeated the information.

As soon as breakfast was done we prepared to get underway. Meanwhile, Tom had given our spare ice and gasoline to the skipper of one of the other boats.  He was taking it to “High Hopes” on the other side of the island in a sheltered inlet.  This boat is the twenty-six foot sailboat with only an outboard motor and three young crewmen.

A little later Tom noticed that the small boat with three fisherman had moved from the end of the reef and were towing a upside-down dingy behind their boat with the skipper of the other sailboat aboard.  The fishermen towed the dingy back to the sailboat from which it had come. Tom got on the radio to find out what had happen.  The skipper said that he had overturned when trying to go around the island.  He said that the ice was lost but the gasoline containers had been saved.  Tom asked if he was all right and he said that he was.  Tom told him that we planned to head due North to South Padre Island and would be motor sailing.  He said that he also was going to head north but under sail.  We wished them good luck and prepared to head north.

By the time we had gotten ready to go, the sailboat closest to us had already pulled anchor and headed for United States waters.  We could see them to our starboard and a fair distance in front.  It did not take long before they were out of our sight.

As we cleared the reef we set a course of 356 degrees, North.  The sea was running about four to five feet with the tops breaking slightly. Mike went below to establish our new course on the computer.  We were running at about five to six knots with the wind on our bow.  We were not able to use our sails with the current wind conditions while maintaining a straight course north.  Our strategy was to try and outrun the storms that were moving toward us from the Veracruz area.  As the day progressed the seas became rougher and we could see cells of rain all around us.  Gerry and I began to sense the seasickness feeling coming back and increased the dose of seasickness medicine.

The first night after leaving Lobos Island was overcast and the seas started rolling at about six to eight feet.  We had initiated our standard four hours on the wheel routine.  The wind started to slide to starboard but was still less than forty-five degrees and the use of sails, on our Northerly course, was out of the question.

Russ and my 12:00 PM to 4:00 PM shift at the wheel had begun and Gerry asked if we could try to increase the boat speed.  Shortly after I took the first turn at the wheel the wind shifted to between 90 degrees and 120 degrees and was blowing between 15 to 18 knots, relative, and gusting to 21 knots.  Russ decided to unfurl the Genoa about 30 percent and as the sail filled “C’est La Vie” began to heel and accelerate.  Our speed over water was now running between seven and eight knots and the boat was cutting smoothly through the waves with slight wallowing in the troughs.  We began to eat away at the miles and things were looking up.

The waves were also looking up and seeing the water above the level of the safety rail when we were in a trough was a bit unsettling.  After two hours Russ took his turn at the wheel until our watch was over. Russ and I went below to get some sleep.

I awoke to the sound of excited voices and saw that everyone was getting up.  Tom said that the shaft had come out of the coupling again.  Russ and Tom were removing floor coverings to expose the engines’ drive shaft.  They were trying to get the drive shaft realigned and put back together.  Again we were lucky and Russ and Tom got the shaft reset. Along with this someone noticed that the engine gauges were not working again.  The alternator had again stopped working and we had an unknown drain on the batteries.  Mike recalculated the amount of diesel fuel available and determined that we would be able to run the auxiliary diesel generator to maintain power.

During some of the violent pitching Tom was trying to walk through the pilot berth area, where access to the engine is made, and was thrown into the sliding door of the engine compartment.  Tom's collision broke the sliding door and the door had to be removed.  tom was not seriously hurt. Later that night we heard a noise when the boat heeled to port and Tom went to investigate.  We heard him yell and found out the safety flares had fallen out of a cabinet across from the engine and some of the flares were in the engine compartment on the hot engine.  Tom got them out before anything unsightly could happen.  A fire in the engine room at sea is not something anyone would want to experience.

The second night from Lobos Island proved to be even more difficult when the drive shaft again pulled out.  Russ and Tom could not repair it this time.  Russ decided to set the small staysail to add more power. With only the Genoa and a small staysail we continued on our way.  With the wind coming from about 120 degrees, on our starboard aft quarter, we were able to keep the boat running at about six to seven knots.  By now, the seas were again building and the troughs were hitting us from aft starboard and causing “C’est La Vie” to heel and straighten rapidly. This rapid movement caused the low oil in the generator to flow away from a sensor causing the generator to stop.  Russ came on deck and checked the oil and finding it low added a quart.  He restarted the generator and power was again flowing into our batteries.

Now with the drive shaft just sitting loose in the drive shaft cavity it slipped back and hit the rudder, making it hard to turn.  With a rudder that could not be moved rapidly and seas climbing back toward the ten-foot mark, we pressed on.  This lovely boat was cutting through the waves and rarely buried her bow into a wave.  The heeling was violent at times with the gusting winds and water washing over the edge of the boat a few times but never into the cockpit.

The night was long and tiring, everyone started taking one hour at the wheel and one hour as lookout.  As morning arrived the seas were starting to calm and we were about twenty-four miles from South Padre Island.  As we approached the island Russ decided to use his cell phone and call the Coast Guard and report our condition, which was not critical, and ask for telephone numbers of U.S. Customs and a tow service.  Russ called Customs and the tow service and told them that we would be about four miles outside of the Port Isabel jetty at about 10:00 AM.  The towboat was scheduled to meet us and was contacting the Sea Ranch Marina harbormaster to arrange for a berth for “C’est La Vie”.

Upon approaching South Padre Island we saw a Coast Guard cutter heading our way.  We did not pay much attention to it because we believed that they knew of our situation because of Russ’ previous telephone call. Over the radio came a hail from the cutter and we tried to respond but the battery power was low and the transmitter would not operate.  The cutter came in close and yelled to us.  They asked if “C’est La Vie” had been inspected recently and Russ told them that it had not been inspected since he purchased it.  We looked at each other, thinking "this is the last thing we need right now".  

The Coast Guard told us to standby for a boarding party. Four Coast Guardsmen came along side in a small jet boat.  The Guardsmen asked how many people were on board and if we had any firearms.  Russ told them that the crew consisted of six and that there were no firearms aboard.  At that point the Guardsmen boarded us and started conducting a safety inspection.  

The Coast Guard told us to standby for a boarding party. Four Coast Guardsmen came along side in a small jet boat.  The Guardsmen asked how many people were on board and if we had any firearms.  Russ told them that the crew consisted of six and that there were no firearms aboard.  At that point the Guardsmen boarded us and started conducting a safety inspection.  

The leader of the Coast Guardsmen said that they had not received any information on our boat and that Russ must have spoken to another group.  About the time the Coast Guard had completed the inspection, giving “C’est La Vie” a clean bill of health, it started raining very hard and the tow boat arrived on the scene.

The youngest of the Guardsmen accompanied Russ and me forward to get the towboat hookup.  Russ had earlier made up a harness between the forward cleats and it was now attached to the one-inch plus line from the towboat.  The towboat began to tow us Westward toward the jetty and all of a sudden the towboat lost its’ drive power.  The Guardsman and I released the towline from “C’est La Vie” and watched as the towboat drifted South on our port side.  The men on the towboat were hauling in their line from the water.  

The next thing I knew Russ was yelling and trying to fend-off the impending collision between powerless “C’est La Vie” and the now powerless tow boat.  The towboat hit our dinghy’s outboard motor, which was hanging outboard of the stern railing.  We attempted to hold the two boats apart but the wind and water were more than we could handle.  The towboat hit “C’est La Vie” a few more times at the junction of the hull, deck and trim.

One of the three Guardsmen got off of our boat and on to the jet boat to aid the driver of the small jet boat in getting a towline attached to “C’est La Vie”.   The small jet boat attempted to tow “C’est La Vie” without success.  The lines were disconnected from the jet boat and the jet boat took up a position behind us.

The large cutter called for a smaller, forty-seven foot, cutter to come out and tow “C’est La Vie” into the slip at Sea Ranch Marina.  One of the Guardsmen reported that the smaller cutter wanted to wait until the weather got better but had decided to come out and was on its way to get us.

The rain was now coming down so hard that you could not see more than a few feet in front of you.  We let out the Genoa a little to make headway, East, away from the shallow beach area that we had been drifting toward.  Meanwhile, the large Coast Guard cutter had taken the towboat in tow. The rain and wind was now so bad that the Guardsmen did not want to attempt to disembark and decided to ride to port with us.  The crew of “C’est La Vie” and the two Coast Guardsmen waited in the cockpit watching the pouring rain and joking about the situation.

With the arrival of the forty-seven foot cutter the younger Guardsmen and I went forward to catch and secure the towline.  With the towline secured, attached to a cleat, we were now on our way to the jetty and a berth for “C’est La Vie”.

The small jet boat followed us for a while but decided to go back to their mother ship, the large Coast Guard cutter. The smaller Coast Guard cutter pulled us into the jetty past the anchored towboat that we had failed to tow us in.  The crew of the towboat was working on the engine trying to get it started. Once inside of the jetty the Coast Guard cutter retied the two boats together so that they were side by side.  This allowed the cutter to tow us into the close quarters of the Sea Ranch Marina and slide us right into the slip.  We profusely thanked the Guardsmen and they gathered up their equipment and lines and departed.

In port and safe we quickly cleaned up “C’est La Vie” a little, gathered up belongings and began a celebration.  Denny and I would share a hotel and take hot freshwater showers tonight.  Tom and Gerry also went to the hotel.  Russ was planning to meet his wife, who had driven down to Port Isabel to see him after more than two weeks, and spend the night in a hotel also.  Mike planned to stay on the boat.  A parting dinner was held and the crew all went their separate ways.

This trip was not the pleasure cruise planned but it became a very good learning experience and confidence-building adventure.  A strong boat, prudent judgment and resourcefulness will always win the day.  Russ's leadership and persistence had gotten us home. Never again would I be concerned about the small whitecaps that I see on Lake Joe Pool, in my 22 foot Catalina.

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