Crash!

11 October - Isla Mujeres - Mexico

Today’s the day!

Argonaut is anchored in the channel between Cancun and Isla Mujeres. And we’re not really meant to be here. But when you don’t have a working engine and you’re seeking shelter from a hurricane, your options are somewhat limited. So, here we are.

But that is all about to change. Today, another boat is towing us in to a dock. Which means we can start the process of checking-in to the country. Which means that a hot shower, a dry bed, and plentiful Mexican food is but a few hours away!

We set up the lines and fenders. The tow boat arrives on time. Then, we’re off!

The West coast of the island is peppered with reefs. And although there is an inlet into the lagoon we have been whizzing through in the dinghy, it is too narrow and shallow for Argonaut to navigate. So, we must go the long way around: first heading toward the idyllic sandy beaches at the North end of Isla Mujeres, before cutting back into the lagoon.

As we approach the narrowest part of the lagoon, we catch a glimpse of the damage inflicted by Hurricane Helene just a few weeks ago. Everywhere we look, there are sunken ships and damaged docks. Locals tell us the waters here are usually crystal clear. Today they are still somewhat opaque from the heavy rainfall.

We are now approaching the dock. And, despite Charles warning the towboat driver that Argonaut has a lot of momentum and politely suggesting that perhaps, if he would be so kind, he might wish to slow down a little earlier than usual, Argonaut is coming in hot!

I throw the stern line ashore, and then the spring. The dockside line-handler takes his sweet time to tie off. Meanwhile, we are showing no signs of slowing down. Argonaut’s aforementioned momentum is ploughing us hard into the timber dock, rendering our fenders all but useless as they cave under the pressure. Cue a chorus of grunts as we all fend off. The fenders take a deep breath and spring back into action. We add a few more fenders for good measure.

I take a breath. We’re alongside now.

Argonaut secured, Charles heads off to deal with the customs paperwork. Meanwhile, Ben and I are under strict instructions not to leave the boat. So, we set about ensuring Argonaut is settled into her new home for the foreseeable future. Or, at least, her new home until we can get the engine running again. But for now, she’s in good company on the dock!

We patiently await the first visit from Mexican officials: an agriculture inspection.

Upon spotting our perfectly edible fresh fruit and vegetables, the agriculture officials identify them as biohazards and confiscate the lot. Gloved hands carefully transport the offending tomatoes, cucumbers and peppers into bright yellow biohazard bin bags,  ready to be whisked away for safe disposal. Of course, we never set out to pose such a threat to the Mexican nation itself. Before leaving Florida, we provisioned for a longer passage under the assumption (in retrospect, a mistaken one) that we would be able to cook. Silly me! I should have anticipated that we would get caught up in the most intense hurricane ever recorded over the Gulf of Mexico. It’s Argonaut after all! In any case, food has gone unnecessarily to waste, which makes me sad.

With the agricultural inspection complete, the medical is up next. We leave Argonaut’s hatches open to let her breathe (she is still rather damp inside!), jump down onto the timber dock and make our way over to the marina office. There, we are asked a flurry of questions (Do you have X vaccination? Have you had a fever recently? Why do your exit papers say your next destination is Belize, but you are here in Mexico?) before a thermometer in thrust into our ears to read our temperatures.

A few more paperwork formalities and we get the all clear. Time to explore! Or, rather, time to find: an electrician, an engine mechanic, someone to fix the leaky windows, an upholsterer, and - for our sakes - a bar!

But first, we commence the mammoth task of lugging the vast quantities of wet fabric off the boat and over to a laundrette. Pillows and bed linen - soaked through. Towels and blankets - still water logged from our attempt (in vain) to prevent water seeping through the leaky windows and dripping onto the electricity panel. Not to mention all the clothes we burnt through each time we came off watch, soaked, and wanted to fall asleep in something dry. Despite the heat, none of these have dried out because of the salt. So here they are, days later, not smelling their finest. So getting them off the boat, washed and dried is priority numero uno! There are at least ten loads - I feel sorry for the laundry lady!

Since Argonaut isn’t ship shape right now (no electricity, damp, in dire need of a wash down and clean both inside and out, and now no dry bedding), we seek out a place to stay for the night. Our primary requirements: dry, has electricity, and a warm shower.

A short walk from where Argonaut is moored, we stumble across El Milagro - a former shrimp factory now converted into colourful, eclectic self-catering apartments. Bonus points: it has a swimming pool, the cutest dog in residence (we fell in love with Oso!), aircon (!!!), a dinghy dock to whizz back and forth in Argonaughty, and a shop selling cold beers. We are sold!

Over the next few hours, Ben takes great joy in ferrying bags back and forth between Argonaut and our new base at El Milagro. When you can whizz around in a new dinghy - why wouldn't you! As Ben would say… shiny!

And, as Ben’s t-shirt would say: “Don’t grow up. It’s a trap.”

Back at base, we phone Sam for a debrief on our shakedown sail.

Sam is joining us onboard Argonaut in 5 days. The only issue: he’s flying to Belize City. Even before the call, Sam had a sneaking suspicion that he might need to change his flight. Perhaps something to do with the text Ben sent him when we first got signal off the Mexican coast:

“Please come fix boat. Thanks.”

Hilariously, Ben has no recollection of ever sending this.

We fill Sam in on the adventure of the past few days (cue lots of hand gestures, aka bar karate!) and share the snagging list of things we need to fix before we continuing on to Belize. Sam changes his flight to Cancun, Mexico.

In turn, Sam fills us in on what we have missed whilst at sea. We have been completely unaware of just how much anxiety we caused back home in Guernsey after we stopped replying to WhatsApp messages.

They knew what we didn’t: that hurricane Milton had been upgraded to a Category 5 hurricane and had dipped further South than forecast i.e., towards us. This, combined with our tracker showing that we were sailing towards the worst part of the hurricane, with no way of letting us know, was a cause for some concern. And then, they became increasingly concerned by our progress - or rather, lack thereof. Various theories were brewing between Guernsey and South Africa. Perhaps Argonaut had lost electronics in a lightning strike? Or maybe something catastrophic had occurred, leaving Argonaut adrift on the tide? With no way of knowing that we were okay (albeit somewhat sleep deprived), our friends contacted the UK coastguard, who in turn contacted the US and Mexican Maritime Rescue Coordination Centres, and even the closest Mexican Naval base - on Isla Mujeres. We hadn’t heard anyone trying to contact us on the VHF radio: something else to add to the snagging list.

In retrospect, we find this all to be deeply amusing. That is, until Sam shares a satellite shot of the hurricane overlayed with our position at the time. We were out in the right front quadrant (aka the most dangerous part of the storm). Sorry, mum!

It’s been a long day, and we don’t fancy cooking, so head out for dinner. Of course, we zoom into town via dinghy and tie up to one of many timber docks, walking ashore to dinner. We are treated to a beautiful golden sunset.

After dinner, we venture further inland to explore the town a little, and stumble across some souvenirs I am considering buying for my Grandma.

Lekker slaap! The hard work starts again tomorrow.