This is a photo of our sweet Captain Jon, enjoying Avalon Harbor.
RIP, Jon, love of my life. You were my soul mate, my sailing, skiing, and scuba diving buddy. You were my best friend. We were married just shy of 30 years. Yesterday I was going to write something in commemoration of our 30th wedding anniversary, but was too choked up to write a word.
Sail on, sweetie…I know you’re at peace and smiling on us from your post as captain of my ship of angels.
Love always, your first mate.
ARNF
Last May, Sailsoutherncal took a group sailing in the British Virgin Islands. What a great time we all had! Here’s a video to show you what you missed. Maybe you’d like to come along next spring? Contact us for more information!
Contact us: jon@sailsoutherncal.com
The story continues of my quest to find Jon, somewhere in Mexico. He wasn’t in Puerto Vallarta… (if you didn’t read Part One, please click here)
We had a couple of cocktails with the salty old captain whose name I have forgotten. At Phil’s suggestion, Mary and I changed from our “city” clothes to something more comfortable. We made our way to the other side of the marina and bought tickets for a ferry. The fare was only $3 per person. I thought, “if it’s that cheap, we can’t be going very far!” I learned another lesson…You really do get what you pay for…this was one of the longest nights of my life! The inexpensive ticket for the ferry allowed us to sit in the lower deck with chickens, goats, families with crying babies, and more. Even my country roots hadn’t prepared me for a night of sleeping surrounded by farm animals!
Mary and Phil sneaked off and found a sleeping cabin, leaving me to fend for myself. When I couldn’t take the molded plastic seats anymore, I wandered up to the deck and laid down on a metal bench that was bolted down. I fell asleep from sheer exhaustion but was soon awakened by the sound of heavy boots marching past me. I opened my eyes and almost fainted when I looked at a couple of young men who didn’t look a day over sixteen. They were sporting military uniforms and had big, scary automatic weapons over their shoulders! This was my first encounter with the federales, and it scared me to death! Who gives a teenager a gun and a uniform and sends him off to protect people?
Morning didn’t come soon enough, and at dawn I found my traveling companions in the ship’s dining room. Quite the contrast from the night’s rough accommodations, this was actually quite an elegant setting. The tables were dressed with crisp white cloths and very nice looking china and stemware. Finally, I thought, some civility! Breakfast was served, coffee poured, and suddenly, THUNK! The ferry jolted, plates flew off tables, and we looked at each other and said, “what was that?” I half expected the ferry to start taking on water, and feared for my life. Minutes passed, we kept moving forward, dishes were picked up off the floor and no one acted like anything had happened. Did we hit a whale? Did we run aground? God forbid, did we hit another boat and leave it to sink without offering rescue? To this day I have no clue. I felt so helpless. And I still didn’t know where Jon was.
Where is Captain Jon? Do I find him? How long does it take? Come back for the rest of the story!
Tales from a First Mate-Sailing with Captain Jon 