I don’t care if it
Rains or freezes
As long as I’ve got my
Plastic Jesus
Ridin’ on the dashboard
Of my car
by Ed Rush and George Cromarty

Sitting here in Tuscon at a beautiful Air Bnb out in the desert, watching Hummingbirds and Cardinals, waiting for the Javelinas to show up, we’re ready for the big border crossing into Mexico. I’ve packed and repacked the car 6 times working to fit everything in reasonably well, hoping to make it less noticeable that we are, in fact, bringing a lot of stuff for the boat back from the United States. Why would we do this? Why would we pack our car such that to find the boat stuff you are going to have to actually unpack the entire vehicle; a task that is a lot of work?

As seen from our patio at the bed and breakfast.

Because kind of like the speed limits in Arizona, the rules for crossing the border and bringing things into Mexico are really more like ‘guidelines’. They are notoriously vague even though on paper they look like they aren’t. We have a boat ‘in transit’, which means we are technically just passing through, and we are supposed to be able to bring in things to replace or repair systems on the boat without paying import duties. We have our boat import permit, and we have this extensive list of stuff that we are replacing or repairing on the boat. But although the ‘rules’ say one thing, it doesn’t always work that way. Rules change constantly and are interpreted individually by the folks who control the border.

So people like us are basically just rolling the dice as they cross the border with cars filled with boat goodies and stuff from home. Will we be stopped and our car searched? Will we have to pay import fees on stuff we shouldn’t have to pay anything on? Who knows?  Ninety nine out of a hundred people in our position crossing that border are waved through without any kind of scrutiny. But that 100th person will be searched and told they can’t come in without working with an import agent. That would mean fees for the agent, as well as a 16% tax on a lot of stuff in our car.  Usually that adds up to more than the amount we want to pay, which is zero dollars.

We are staying in this stunning ranch house with a view. Honestly, I love Air Bnb.

I don’t know about you, but when faced with what feels like an outright gamble, I like to cover all my bases. So we’ve got the car packed just right, we’ve got all of our paperwork, including our Temporary Import Permit with list of associated stuff, and all of our receipts. I’ll spit and spin a few times as we get in the car, we’ll say associated spells and prayers, and then we’ll leave it up to the Plastic Jesus on our dashboard to get us through. And if we have to pay? Well, maybe we have just committed one too many sins and the Great Spiritual Scales of Justice will need balancing. If that happens I know it’s probably going to be because of that 1/2 bottle of Prosecco I drank with my daughter-in-law when we met up with the kids in Beatty, Nevada.  That was downright wrong.  A lot of sins are like that. They feel so right at the time…

Holy moley, a little kangaroo rat! He came to the patio hoping for birdseed but refused to pose for us.

Anyhoo, speaking of rules that change, let me give you the low down on getting your Temporary Resident Visa for Mexico. Mike and I decided it would serve us well to do this because of two things: 1) It allows us to stay in Mexico without leaving to renew our tourist visa every 180 days. That’s a pain when you are traveling by boat. The temporary resident visa, when it’s all completed, will give us up to 4 years. By that time we’ll need to get jobs again. 2) All the cool kids are doing it and we like to fit in. Getting the actual visa is a very simple 500 step process that involves a lot of spitting and spinning and also being flexible and nice and smiling a lot. Maybe even the use of crystals, I don’t know for sure yet. Also $72 for both of us together.

To apply, you must first visit the Mexican Consulate in your home country. That’s where you start. We thought we’d do this in Seattle, but we were so focused and busy getting our house ready for renters that we didn’t get to it. We called them about a week before we left and they would have been happy to make us an appointment –  about 6 weeks out. Uh oh. Fortunately our good friends Curt and Lynn on S/V Slow Motion had given us the pertinent information about applying here in Tucson. If you are going to cross the border in Nogales, this is a good place to apply. No appointment is necessary and they have same day turn around for the FIRST PART of the visa.

Here’s the building you want.

You’ll need to bring paperwork with you, as well as some recent passport photos. They will take their own photo of you, and also fingerprint you electronically, but for some reason you need to also provide a passport photo. It’s best to just do as you are told and not ask questions.  Bring your passport, your current driver’s license with your United States address on it (Plastic Jesus help you if you don’t still have a US address), your marriage license if you are applying as a married couple, your boat documentation if you are traveling by boat, and 6 months of bank statements that show your deposits. Hell, at this point they may be requiring the birth certificate of your first born child as well, I can’t guarantee anything here. You can print out the form using the link above. BUT WAIT! Recall what I said about rules changing without notice? They do and they did.

The form we printed out, the one that is still on the website, has apparently been replaced by a form in Spanish. Our very nice lady at the consulate expressed dismay that the form is now in Spanish, since, as she says, most people who need the application do not speak Spanish. But whatever.  I mean, Mexico is a Spanish speaking country, so if they want their form in Spanish we don’t care. Besides, she copied all of our information for us onto the new form, using her very neat and tidy handwriting. So that’s one change. Please note THERE IS NO WAY FOR YOU TO KNOW ANYTHING FOR SURE UNTIL YOU SHOW UP! I am yelling in all caps here. It’s that necessary you hear and understand this to avoid disappointment and possible irritation.

We love this patio.

There is another change that is even more important than language on a form. Where you used to have 30 days to report to the Immigration office in Mexico to begin the final 300 steps to receiving your actual Visa, that is no longer the case. You now have 15 days. So that means we are very glad we did not apply in Seattle. We would have been really pressed for time had we applied that early. In addition, a friend who applied in Seattle had to go back the following week to pick up their temporary visa. We got ours the same day. My suggestion is to apply at the last possible time before you cross the border. We showed up at the consulate at around 10:00 AM and didn’t even have to wait. I don’t know when this allotted time period for showing up to the Immigration office in Mexico changed, and I have no idea if or when it will change back. But today when we showed up, the magic number of days before we turn into pumpkins was 15. Your mileage could vary.

We did make a couple of mistakes that had us scrambling just a bit but, I mean, why not let the adventuring start now, after all? We consider this a warm up exercise for the real Mexico. First, Mike had printed out the statements from his retirement account with Boeing as proof of income. It shows his income. It’s an ‘account’. You’d think that would do the trick. ALAS!!  First, Boeing is not a bank. They want bank statements. Period. Second, my name isn’t on that paperwork. The woman at the consulate asked me if I got Social Security. I sure hope that someday I will actually be able to draw on that account, since I’ve been paying into it since I was 16 years old and, why YES I DO feel entitled to it. Very much. But I’m not old enough yet. She looked confused about how I would have an  income since I’m ‘retired’, until I pointed out that I was, after all, married. So that Boeing income supports both of us. She wanted proof that the Boeing money was actually deposited into our bank account each month, so Mike worked his digital magic on his cell phone accessing our account and downloading bank statement going back 6 months. Then we trundled off to the Office Depot down the street where, after typing a special secure email address into his tiny phone 6 times, the young man behind the counter accessed the information and printed out our statements.  We paid about 15$ for two sets of statements. Most of that was trash since all they wanted was the part that shows the deposits. Still, money well spent not having to explain to the clerk that we needed only the first page of each month.

Our other mistake was forgetting the file of boat documents, which we didn’t even know we would need. It’s possible Slow Motion Curt told us to bring them, but whatever because we left them in our room 20 minutes away.  Fortunately Mike has a photo of our Coast Guard documentation on his phone and that  was enough to satisfy the consulate rep. Our advice to you: Bring EVERY PIECE OF PAPER YOU CAN GET YOUR HANDS ON.

Here’s proof we were there. OK, our arms are not long enough for an adequate selfie.

When we go through the border they will scan our passports and that will activate the visa. Our next step is to stop at the little office off the highway at Kilometer 18 (or 21, some say) and fill out the FMM form (tourist card). Where it asks what the purpose of the visit is (tourism, etc) we are to check ‘other’.  She was specific about that. I pass this information on to you for you to check it out for yourself if you apply. Because I was confused about why I shouldn’t check ‘tourism’, or something like that. In the end, I felt it best not to ask too many questions. After that, we have to visit the immigration office in Guaymas. We’ll let you know how all of that goes down.

This issue of applying for the Temporary Resident Visa gets brought up on cruisers forums all the time. People who have been there and done that throw in their experiences, other people give their best guesses about how to go about it. It’s kind of like crossing the border. You really are not going to know until you are there and faced with a person whose job it is to either usher you through a process or say ‘no bueno’ and send you packing. Give yourself time, flexibility, bring cash and correct change, and make sure you can get copies of whatever documents you might not have right away. Smile and be grateful and all will be well. And it wouldn’t hurt to install a plastic Jesus on your dashboard.

Arizona sky view from the bed and breakfast.

We’ll let you know how it goes. For now, Galapagos, Out!

Let’s just hope his glue sticks all the way across the border.

Is it October? Already? Did September already come and go? Somewhere along the way, I believe we have lost an entire month. Time has been marked not by the calendar, but by the tasks completed and checked off a list that feels like it is always expanding. The end of each day has been punctuated by falling into bed like overly extended toddlers, too wound up to really fall asleep easily. As I was sweeping the laundry room for the last time, the term ‘clearing quarters’ emerged from some long ago recess of memory. It was a little ‘a ha!’ moment. Clearing quarters is the term the military uses when you vacate military housing. Military housing always comes with a very long list of rules and regulations. It’s like living under the strictest home owner’s association.

A parting shot of fall sunshine through our big trees.

As a military child, we moved almost each year. Lets see… we moved when I was in kindergarten, 1st grade, 2nd grade, 3rd grade, 5th grade (to another house and neighborhood, if not another assignment for dad), 7th grade, 8th grade, 9th grade, and 10th grade.  After all of that I was blessed with three years in the same high school. We always lived in military housing so while I don’t have much conscious memory of all the times we had to move our stuff, except this vague feeling of ‘here we go again’, we must have spent a lot of time ‘clearing quarters’. I’ll have to talk to my mom about what that was like, but I find it interesting that the term came to me in a moment of meditative movement clearing out of our family home of 18 years.

These floors actually gleam.

I immediately knew what this term meant, even though I have not heard it in decades. I wonder if it was this process instilled in me through my formative years that made me into the woman who insisted we paint this woodwork here, replace that fixture there, clean this tile grout to within an inch of my life, make everything look as tidy and as perfect as we possibly were able to do. It’s been an act of will to call ‘good enough’ and walk away. I mean, it’s not a new house, after all. But should we replace that toilet seat? I had to have Michael take a look at this completely serviceable toilet seat that wasn’t exactly perfect in every way. There were a few scratches on the underside where someone (NOT ME!) must have cleaned it with a brillo pad.  He said it was fine. In fact, he said he loved it. That if he weren’t already married, he’d marry it. I took his word for it but really I’m still waiting for the inevitable trip to Home Depot on that.

During this process I’ve received some messages via Facebook and email from other women who have had to clear out of their own homes in order to go cruising. They’ve been uplifting and encouraging and I thank them for the support. During the times when Michael and I were taking turns talking each other off the ledge of stress about this big life choice, their words of experience and wisdom steadied me. It would be fine. All would be well. We would get all the work done. The right tenants would appear. And you know what? They were right!

Now on the other side of the mountain of work we’ve done, we’ve had two blissful days of doing absolutely nothing except enjoying my sister’s house and dog while she and the fam are away on a hunting trip.  I’ve been in my pajamas for two days. We’ll take this break while we can get it.

Tenants did, indeed, appear and we’ve now got a two year lease on the house and our awesome friend and property manager to take care of the place while we are gone. All of our chosen furnishings and possessions have been titrated down to a 10×20 storage unit, which has been paid for through November 2019.  We got a terrific price for this unit and paying in advance nailed down those savings. Replacing my sofa alone would cost us about what the storage is costing for an entire year.

Our final piece to store: the king sized memory foam mattress. Weighing in at close to 200 pounds of dead, slippery weight, we needed help getting this into the truck. Sure wish we’d had help getting it into the storage unit. That was interesting.

So as of Monday, October 15 the house is no longer our day to day responsibility and we are free to leave. We’ve got a few loose ends to complete up here before we head south, but the car is packed and overall we are looking forward to a leisurely drive down to Mexico. We’ve got new SUP boards, a generator, some more solar panels, and what feels like a million odds and ends for the cruising life we are ready to get back to.

Our final issue before we leave has been the boom replacement. In the little time available he has had to focus on finding one, Michael has hit snag after snag. We’ve lost count of how many places he called.  We were getting dead discouraged and had even talked about just waiting until we were back in Mexico to figure it out. Now that appears to possibly be resolved. You won’t believe it, and neither do we until we actually have that boom installed on the boat, but here’s the story so far.

We put feelers out for a boom replacement all over the internet and the sailing community. We need at least an 8 foot section of Isomat NB-40. Yes, we could have ordered a brand new one from RigRite, but our guts were saying ‘no’ to that for a myriad of reasons. We just couldn’t bring ourselves to pull the trigger on it.  We were prepared to put an entirely different type of boom on the boat and had planned to start walking the boatyard boneyards up here now that the house is done,  looking at possibilities.

Lord of the storage unit: Skippy painting by Jillian Boyte-White, our daughter-in-law. We wrestled the big mattress up onto that white blanket and allowed it to drape casually over the back of the camel back sofa. Should anyone open the door to this unit without being warned, first the memory foam mattress will fall on them. Then Skippy will curse them forever.

Then I got a text from a Facebook acquaintance saying she knew a guy down in Guaymas who had done work on their boat. He had recovered a few boats after Hurricane Newton hit a few years back. He might have something for us and she was checking with him.

Turns out he did! It’s exactly the same boom that is on our boat, but a little shorter. That means that we could use the existing long piece that we have, then cut a new piece from the boom he has and sleeve/rivet the two pieces together. It would be a great solution for us. If possible, some friends will check the boom out for us before we get down to Mexico.  If it’s in good condition, then we’re on! This would save us a lot of money, plus save us trying to import a boom into Mexico. That money could be put toward a new mainsail, which we cannot get until the boom situation is resolved. Keep a good thought. It will be a major piece of magic if this works out.

All that is still up in the air as Hurricane Sergio made its way across San Carlos as a tropical storm. Communications are disrupted at the moment and people are busy recovering from mother nature. Galapagos did fine, thank goodness. But Marina Seca San Carlos did have some boats blow over. Even though we know she fared well as she is not on the marina’s list of damaged boats, we’ll feel better when we get a recent photo of the her. We hope to have one tomorrow.

For now, S/V Galapagos, out.