V - as in "Valiant"
I cannot let the "V" pass me by without an ode to the Valiant, a Bob Perry designed double-ended, ketch-rigged sailboat. The fact that I spent six glorious consecutive months on a Valiant-40, "has nothing to do with it." Nor does the fact that the skipper was tall and handsome, alas elegantly gray round the edges (Can I tell you another one?)
We sailed from San Diego past Magdalena Bay (famous for cavorting and courting whales), past Cedros Island, to Cabo San Lucas. From there, 300 miles due south to a Mexican Navy Base on Socorro, part of the Revillagigedo Islands. Great fishing, fabulous diving though rocks close below the surface even in the anchorage. So were plenty of sharks - blissfully, I was only told that later on.
During our only storm at sea, we night-sailed east to a then still deserted Tenecatita.
On to impressive Manzanillo, its hillside hotel a former little summer home a tin-baron built for himself and his friends!
North to Nuevo Vallarta, the large-scale modern yacht basin north of Puerto Vallarta.
Across to La Paz on the inside of Baja and north to Puerto Escondido where I spent three weeks anchored, alone on the boat (there were other boats to dinghy to at cocktail time).
Back around the tip of Baja to Cabo san Lucas, from where I was told to fly home like a lady. Glad I did. The "uphill bash into the wind" to San Diego took the boat three weeks.
Just like the faithful, doomed Senta, I waited on the dock when she (the boat) and he (my "Flying Dutchman) sailed in under a following breeze and a triumphant colorful spinnaker.
End of Story?
(If you paid attention to "B" you'll remember how it turned out)
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