Well, how is your new year going? by Jeanna

Here are a few things that I hope will happen in 2007 (God willing):

Jim and I will celebrate 35 years of wedded bliss

Marine Servicenter will turn 30

Molly and Jessie will become teenagers

My Mother will celebrate her 90^th birthday

My little sister, who I will always think of as being 14, will celebrate the big 5-0

Her son, Erik, will graduate from high school (again, God willing).

Man, I sound like my Dad. He was forever cataloging events. He was a jogger, and would write down each day’s miles religiously. He had a goal of 5,000 miles in 5 years (or something like that), and he faithfully logged each and every step. I honestly think I remember that he figured out how many steps he had taken over a certain period of time. He cataloged his childrens’ accomplishments, his phone calls and visits, his mileage, his expenditures, how many times he’d read the Bible, how many freckles he could count on his arms – everything!

We celebrated New Year’s in a little bay called Chamela, about 100 miles south of Puerto Vallarta. The beach looked like Coney Island in the nineteen-fifties. There were families under beach umbrellas and make-shift tents, a hand-pulled ice cream wagon that played calliope music, and little restaurants under bright blue Visqueen, selling fish tacos and cheesy rice. Brown–skinned children were playing in the surf, and mothers in brightly colored polyester were admonishing their young ones to watch out for the big waves. There were very few non-Latinos on the beach, but the people greeted us and smiled shyly. I notice that when they greet you, they speak very fast and don’t say all the syllables, whereas my Buenos Dias or Buenos Tardes takes a long time for me to say. So, I’m trying to speed it up and mumble a little more, so they think I am a local.

There was a sweet dolphin in Chamela. (See Jessie’s update below for details). I hear he is a regular there. His name is Chip, because he has a big chunk missing from his dorsal fin. He played by our boat for a couple of hours – his favorite thing was scratching his body on our anchor chain. He would scratch and pull against it, then come up and look at us, to see if we were still watching, then he would swim out a few feet and catch his breath, then come back and do it all again. Molly and Jessie couldn’t stand it – they both put on their snorkel gear and jumped in the water. Chip was pretty shy, but he got within 4 or 5 feet of them.

Watching Chip reminded me of a dolphin encounter I had while we were crossing the Sea of Cortez. It was the middle of the night, and I was on watch. I was hand steering, since our autopilot was kaput. This big dolphin came swimming up beside me, with a jet of phosphorus bubbles trailing behind her. Normally, dolphins swim right up to the front of the boat, because they like to play in the wake the boat makes while knifing through the water. This dolphin seemed to sense that I could not go forward and “play” with her, so she stayed right beside me near the back of the boat. I would tap on the hull to “talk” to her, and she would jump clear out of the water and make a sound to talk back. It sounded almost like a kitten mewing. I’m sure it was a girl dolphin for, as we all know, females are the best communicators. She stayed with me for almost an hour, then sped away as if she heard her Mom calling her.

We are anchored in Tentatacita right now – a place Jim and I visited almost 30 years ago when we helped a friend sail his boat down the coast of Mexico. Of course, it has changed – there is a huge pink hotel on the beach, several hundred lounge chairs, and way too many jet skis. It’s still a beautiful spot. Molly and Jessie are kayaking up into a little lagoon right now, carrying a hand-held VHF radio in case they need help. They have named themselves OK1 and OK2 (for orange kayak). I have mixed feelings about their new streak of independence. I am proud of them for taking charge and having the confidence to tackle new challenges and situations, but I miss those trusting little children who needed to hear from their Mom that everything was going to be okay. I am besotted with love for those girls. Sometimes I just say their names out loud just because it is music to my ears. Do other parents feel this way? Am I just goopy because I am with them 24/7? Do I need to get a life? When I try to explain this feeling to Molly and Jessie, they just roll their eyeballs, waaaaay back in their heads and get embarrassed. I think I will keep this sickness to myself from now on.

We are leaving here early tomorrow morning and heading for Xtapa – about 230 miles away, which means night watches. Oh well, I’m getting used to it – I can’t say the I love to be shaken out of bed at 2:00 in the morning, but stars, dolphins, phosphorus bubbles and warm tropical air make it easier…