Isla Mujeres

The new Guernsey Ensign, essential cargo in my duffle bag. 

Tied along side a timber dock in Isla Mujeres, it was a delight to be reunited with good friends Charles, Ben and Alex aboard Argonaut. They had just endured hurricane Milton. It became clear they were unaware of how much anxiety their recent exploits had caused back home in Guernsey across the pond, as one of the largest hurricanes recorded barreled across their path in an unusual route North Easterly to reek havoc at landfall in Florida. It was testament to the experiences we’d experienced and accustomed to in the last few years. “Yeah it was a bit windy, the waves were about 30ft I guess?”

I’d grown fond of Argonaut after 3 weeks of racing and sailing in the leeward Caribbean island earlier in the year. Not only had we set a overall course record for this prestigious RORC race, the trip had planted the seed for this adventure of a lifetime.

Argonaut had been subject to many upgrades since my last voyage and Charles had worked tirelessly in Miami over the last 4 months to execute these with various contractors, of varying integrity.

The shake down sail from hell had generously added to the snagging list and many jobs needed to be attended to before we could journey south into Central America. Whilst not ‘mission critical’, the interior saloon cushions had been dropped to the Leatherman for recovering. Not of the same multitool variety which had become a permanent fixture on my hip.

GPS co-ords overlaid with Sat imagery of the same tide. Understandably, Argonaut had not made it to Belize as planned.

After many hours in the bilges and contorting myself into all manner of uncomfortable positions to fix things, it struck me just how alike Argonaut was to another of my favorite modes of transport. The Land Rover Defender. The endearing character of all of their foibles was uncanny.

The Defender under the Northern lights, a first for me back in Guernsey and just 3 days before flying off the island.

The leaks on a Landy? To be expected, and often just another inconvenience. When on a 47ft expedition yacht and home, the consequences can be somewhat more dire.

I’d not long read the Last Overland. I had been spurred onto doing so after finding a picture from Vienna back in 2019 when launching this very website. The character of such vehicles is clearly intoxicating.

Boat work was interspersed with dinghy rides in Argonaut’s ‘car’ a.k.a. Argonauty, freediving and exploring the island and it’s many nachos.

Oh, and let’s not forget the brief trip to the local hospital. A German Shephard had fancied a piece of my right arm late one evening. Thank you fellow Samuel for your stitches and tequila bar recommendations. Don’t worry, I won’t share the pics.

The seat recovering meant we’d be here a fortnight, so plans were hatched to travel inland to visit Mayan ruins and cenotes…