Everything was great until it wasn’t.
I thought it would be smooth sailing after we braved the Tehuantepec.
The voyage from Chiapas across that notorious patch of water was relatively uneventful, except for the unlit fishing net that we snagged when entering Ensenada de la Ventosa in the dark to wait out a blow.
That mishap turned out to be the calm before the storms that life would cast as we sailed our remaining 1500 nautical miles homeward.
The first of these formed the morning after we’d arrived in Zihuatanejo.
It came with a thunderous bang when the Captain lost his footing on the companionway stairs and slammed into the navigation table, ribs first. After two days of failing to ease the pain with the contents of our medicine chest, I set out to provision something more substantial from a local doctor. Morphine did the trick.
Within 24 hours, we were able to get Fabio into a dinghy and on-shore for an X-Ray to confirm that he’d fractured two ribs. The doctor prescribed 10-days of pain-management with bed rest and a full-month without heavy lifting.
Thankfully, our friend Steve, who’d last sailed with us from New Zealand to Fiji after the Captain’s 2015 liver resection, agreed to help us navigate through another medical challenge. He arrived from Florida the day before Italy closed its borders in their effort to contain their coronavirus. Still, cases were tapering off in China, so we hoped that the rest of the world would soon follow suit, departing Zihuatenejo for La Paz, dreaming of the anchorages we would visit along our way.
After a three-day sail, we arrived in La Cruz de Huanacaxtle to whales breaching and news of toilet paper hoarding in the US. As the Captain and I had planned to store the boat at the US-Mexican border with me returning Stateside for work, we’d depleted most of our onboard provisions. Given the rising pandemic tide, we decided to replenish provisions in nearby Puerto Vallarta as a precautionary measure. While the vibe was changing in Mexico, store shelves were still full, and tourism remained incredibly strong.
Border closures were rapidly increasing by the time we set sail from La Cruz de Huanacaxtle, leaving cruising friends stranded across the globe. We felt blessed to be sailing Mexico’s Pacific coast but decided to skip the dreamy anchorages along the way and head straight for La Paz.
The day we secured our dock lines at Marina Palmira, The US State Department announced a global Level 4: Do Not Travel Advisory, urging citizens to return home.
Steve booked a return ticket to Atlanta on what we thought would be one of the last outbound planes. Before boarding in Mexico, he was socially distanced and had his temperature taken. When he arrived in Atlanta, he was cattle-herded through customs cheek-to-cheek with hundreds of other travelers; no fever checks.
Rather than proceed with our original plans, we opted to remain south of the border until the coronavirus situation stabilized, with me pursuing job opportunities remotely. Marina Palmira was filled with boats, but almost empty of people, as most had returned home to Canada or The United States.
The Governors in Mexico began to get serious about containment. The protective facemasks couldn’t hide the fear. Visits to big-box grocery stores were limited to one person per household. School & and small-business closures were enacted.
Rumors abounded on the coconut telegraph, some accurate, causing us to vacillate on whether to remain in La Paz after the Captain fully recovered from his rib injury or venture onward up into The Sea of Cortez. We’d heard of cruisers being denied permission to exit or enter ports, of prohibitions against anchoring off the islands, and of hurricane-protected marinas being fully booked.
In a short time, La Paz had become our new comfort zone, offering us access to hypermarkets and comprehensive medical facilities, but with little to excite the eye during the lockdown and a perceived higher exposure to hurricanes in the coming season.
The Sea of Cortez offered us a magical place to float surrounded by beauty with better hurricane protection closer to our final destination. But access to provisions and healthcare would be limited. We chose the magic and sailed onward.
The trip up to the mooring field at Puerto Escondido was freeing and filled with jaw-dropping landscapes the entire way. We were able to tuck into the few remaining unrestricted anchorages, avoiding small villages and shuttered national parks.
Our arrival at Puerto Escondido was a bit unnerving. While the staff followed all protective guidelines, many of the patrons were congregating in close quarters, sans facemasks. In La Paz, socializing with the few cruisers that remained was done at an appropriate distance, if at all. Now, I was face-to-face with humanity again and found myself looking at the ground rather than meeting gazes and failing to greet anyone with a smile. I’d gone from being an open, social butterfly, to avoiding face-to-face encounters.
We stayed at Puerto Escondido just long enough to replenish our stores, do a bit of boat work, and secure a mooring ball for the hurricane season in case we needed it.
Then we set out on our first tour of the Loreto area, calling in at the San Juanico, Isla Coronados, Isla Carmen, and Isla Danzante. The seascapes dazzled us, and we managed a few hikes in the more secluded anchorages.
But the battle between rainbows and storm clouds continued given a growing number of COVID cases at my mother’s supportive living facility; two staff and three residents. Thankfully, there have been no additional in-house cases since May 7.
After ten days resting on anchor, we returned to Puerto Escondido so The Captain could repair some stitching on the bimini and sails and then set out on a second tour.
Our intent was to buddy-boat with our friends Rob and Linda on Cat-N-About to explore another hurricane hole further north at Puerto Don Juan near Bahia Los Angeles.
We called in at several lovely anchorages along our way with me feeling guilty about our good fortune to be able to wait out the pandemic surrounded by such glory.
But the Captain started to feel unwell as we neared Bahia Concepcion. There were no noises after we dropped the hook at the cactus-lined anchorage at Playa Santa Barbara except birds cooing, fish jumping, and the Captain wincing in pain from intestinal cramps every 20-30 minutes.
Rob and Linda from SY Cat-N-About brought chamomile tea, and Jacomine and Roel from SY Tara brought fennel and Panadol suppositories. That eased the Captain’s stomach upset and the cramps allowing him to sleep.
I went out for a solo dinghy ride around the anchorage, feeling nothing but Fabio’s absence.
While his pain lessened with a good rest, Fabio and I thought it wise to visit a doctor in Loreto. After day-hopping the 100 nautical miles back to the mooring field at Puerto Escondido, we rented a car and scheduled an appointment with Dr. Salinas.
The local police took our temperatures as we entered the town of Loreto, and then sent us onward without question. In addition to the doctor’s office visit, we were able to buy a new cell phone to replace a non-functioning one and load up on groceries. It was just like any other day.
Dr. Salinas recommended medications used to treat a typical stomach ailment, but Fabio became progressively unwell overnight. The next morning, the doctor ordered an ultrasound that revealed a partial bowel obstruction. Dr. Salinas prescribed a bland, liquid diet, and medication to clear the blockage. If that didn’t work, a nose tube would be required to drain the liquid or, worse, surgery.
I was surprised by the extent to which this illness overwhelmed me. I had sailed through Fabio’s metastatic liver resection, chemotherapy treatments, double-hernia surgery, skin cancer surgery, and semi-annual PET-CT scans, always optimistic that everything would be okay, armed with a Plan B if it wasn’t. Perhaps this latest illness was just the straw that broke the camel’s back, or it seemed more challenging to come up with actionable plans in the time of coronavirus.
With no relief after five days, we returned to the doctor in Loreto. The Captain received an IV with fluids and anti-spasm medication to rehydrate him and ease the pain. Fabio’s illness had exceeded Loreto’s diagnostic capabilities, so Dr. Salinas advised us to return La Paz for a CT scan. Given all the hotels and Airbnb’s were shuttered until June 15th due to the pandemic, we opted to motor-sail for twenty-four hours on an unseasonably cold evening, bashing our way into 2.5-meter seas with 25-knot winds on the nose; almost twice than forecast. The Captain docked the boat, caught a few hours of sleep, and headed to the hospital for a CT Scan.
He was admitted upon arrival on May 29 and operated on the next day. The surgery was more complicated than expected, taking three hours instead of one. The large intestine had moved to the cavity left open from the 2015 liver resection and adhered to the diaphragm. The medical team needed to deflate Fabio’s right lung and drill a small hole in the membrane to separate the intestine and clear the obstruction. According to the surgeon, Dr. Tarazon, the organ had become completely blocked and would have burst in a few days without surgery.
Fabio struggled post-surgery. The lung expansion machine used to inflate his right lung was showing progress, but not as much as expected. An infection had manifested in his left lung, and his oxygen levels were worryingly low. Fabio was moved from a standard room to ICU to stabilize his oxygen levels, and a COVID-19 test ordered. By the end of the day, things were looking up; his COVID-19 test results came back negative for coronavirus, his right lung had inflated and the chest tube was removed. I left the hospital late in the evening, feeling optimistic.
But overnight, his right lung collapsed again. The medical team installed a new chest tube to inflate it, but Fabio was unable to maintain his oxygenation levels. The doctors intubated and sedated Fabio, placing him on a ventilator and feeding tube for seventy-two hours. Fabio, who is fluent in Spanish, verbally gave the medical team the go-ahead beforehand, and I signed a bunch of papers, having a vague idea of their contents because of my weak command of the language.
Finally, Fabio’s vitals stabilized. Dr. Tarazon said he had the bloodwork of a teenager. I snapped images of the monitors and test readings and sent them to our friend, the sailing gastroenterologist Dr. Charlotte Dacker in New Zealand. She posed a few more questions to ask the doctors, and when answered, reassured me that while Fabio’s pre-ventilator readings were scary, Dr. Tarazon and his team were taking the right course of action, and the Captain was on the mend.
During my first visit with Fabio after intubation, he moved his head and arm as if he recognized my voice and knew I was there. But he did not respond at all during subsequent visits. The medical team did not know whether Fabio could hear me but encouraged me to keep talking to him.
After seventy-two hours, Fabio came off the ventilator with vitals remaining stable, intestines operational, his right lung inflated, and the left lung nearly free of infection. But I wasn’t prepared for the ICU delirium.
When I walked into the room as he was emerging from sedation, Fabio said, “I don’t want to see you”. The doctors said to me that this was not unusual behavior for patients coming off mechanical ventilation and not to take it personally. I was too busy taking it personally to hear them.
The following morning, while he still did not recognize the doctors or nurses, Fabio knew me as I entered the room and shouted ‘leave, leave.’ I asked whether he wanted to speak on the phone with any of his friends, and he said no. I asked him if he wanted to have our friend Rob, a trained paramedic, visit. He again said no.
Thirty-six hours after the ventilator was removed, Fabio’s confusion began to clear. He knew where he was, why he was there, and who the doctors were, but when I attempted to visit him, he cried, “they’ve hacked my computer, go check yours, leave, leave.”
It took Fabio a total of seventy-two hours to emerge from the sedation fully and the resulting in ICU-delirium. When he finally agreed to see me, he was still hallucinating black holes and floating computers, confident that the nurses were evil spies. But within a few hours of our meeting, he was sitting up in bed, speaking with a few friends via WhatsApp, and joking around with the doctors and nurses.
Since then, the trend has been positive. Fabio’s vitals remained stable when the chest tube and oxygen mask were removed, and he began to ambulate with a walker. After 17 days in residence, including six in ICU, he was released from the hospital, initially with round the clock nursing support and house calls from surgeon Elmer Tarazon, physiotherapist Jesus Terapeuta, and respiratory therapist Marcos Dominguez Rico. We’ve rented a charming casita in the center of town through the beginning of July to allow Fabio to fully heal.
The road to recovery is not an easy one. Every new round of medical treatment eats away at Fabio’s spirit, and he struggles to find the energy to get his strength back. I feel more like Nurse Ratched than Florence Nightingale as I push him to work with the physiotherapist and ambulate around the house. But he’ll get there.
I am so thankful that the Captain has weathered yet another medical storm. Amandla and I are looking forward to having him back at the helm.
In gamba capitano!!! (Or as we say in Piedmont, mola nen! – I’m sure he can source a piedmontese to get it translated).
Kudos to the Mexican doctors, I love their spirit and work ethics even in this dark period…
The Captain greatly appreciates your get well wishes, Fabrizio. We were blessed to find such a committed, dedicated team of doctors and nurses to heal him. Looking forward to returning to your pages for a visit now that the chaos has died down. I so enjoy your writings
Thanks Lisa, all the best to you. It’s nice to know that you’re out there, living this incredible life. A bit like the end of The Big Lebowski, with the cowboy knowing that The Dude is out there, taking it easy for all of us!
Fabrizio
Back in the days when I was anchored to my desk, I would have found it unimaginable that I would ever live a life that evoked thoughts of The Big Lebowski! Thanks for making me feel awesome at this challenging time.
The pleasure is all mine!
Hi Lisa, I know this is a bit douchy but, since you asked me whether I did any long(er) form writing than on my blog, here is my book! Link for a free preview: https://read.amazon.co.uk/kp/embed?asin=B08F3CSXP5&preview=newtab&linkCode=kpe&ref_=cm_sw_r_kb_dp_vOylFb4GGM5ZW
Fabrizio
How traumatic Lisa. I’m so sorry to hear that you’ve both been through this. I also understand how you feel about being Nurse Ratched – been there. I how he’s on the mend and you’re both back on the boat as soon as possible. Sending hugs.
I appreciate your empathetic ear and hope that you are not cast in the role of Nurse Ratched again anytime soon. Dreams of the return to sea are now providing the motivation he needs to keep mobile, requiring less pressure from me to focus on healing.
It’s amazing how motivating sailing is and how healing nature is too.
I am trying to encourage the Captain to amble out the front door. We are only a block from the sea here, and I think seeing it would do his heart wonders.
I’m sure it would. Sometimes it takes time. Sending hugs
Hello, Lisa – you’ve been through very stressing situations, which might have compounded due this uncertain and frightening COVID pandemia.
I’m glad to hear that he’s recovering and hope you also found peace and took some rest. Sending you hugs and love.
I am happy to report that I have finally caught up on sleep. I was nearly delirious myself at the height of the storm and was a bit worried that my health would give out. Grateful for your love and support. Always a delight to see you here.
Wow, Lisa! So scary! I had been wondering where you were during all this. What an adventure you continue to have. It had to be so hard to be alone in a place where you don’t speak the language well to try to negotiate something like surgery. I hope this is the last of your excitement, and that the coming days and weeks bring you peace and the captain a return to health. Sending big hugs from the ‘burbs!
Thank you so much for your supportive words, Marjorie! It is wonderful to receive love from home. I do hope that it will be smooth sailing from here! I’ve finally caught up on sleep and Fabio seems more and more positive and motivated as the days go by, buoyed by dreams of his return to the sea.
Lisa. I am glad to hear Fabio is on the mend and that you were able to access health care. Thinking of you.
Ann
Thank you for keeping me in your thoughts and for setting up a Zoom call, Ann. Very much looking forward to seeing your smiling face, along with Donna’s, on Sunday.
Big hugs and kisses Lisa. What a challenging time and stress on you both.
Wishing you a restful time to fully recover and be back on the baotbin full health and good spirits. Sending you my love and good healing thoughts
Thank you so much for asking after us on Messenger throughout the whole ordeal, Esther. I am looking forward to the time when you can come to sail with us again or seeing you when we return Stateside. I love your pictures of magical meadows and enchanted forests in Pennsylvania. Like something out of a storybook.
HI, Lisa – I have almost no words, but great emotion. I am so sorry to read about all that you and Fabio have been through. I greatly admire the strength and courage of both of you. I am glad to know that Favio is now on the mend. Sending both of you my warmest thoughts and deepest prayers.
It is incredible to fathom how much transpired since we were all in southern Mexico in January. All that seems like a lifetime ago now. Thank you so much for your good wishes and prayers. I am so looking forward to seeing your smiling face on Zoom this coming Sunday!
I rode a motorcycle all over the area around Bahia de Los Angeles. Fantastic coast. I’m glad you’ve weathered the storms and will soon be heading north. Things are still weird here, but slowly getting better. At least in Oregon. Bon voyage.
Oh, how I look forward to seeing what you saw in Bahia de Los Angeles! The Captain is getting stronger every day, buoyed by his dreams of returning to the sea. I can imagine that it is quite gorgeous up there given everything that we’ve seen so far. I hope that the trend in Oregon continues to be positive. This spiking cases in the southwest give us pause as we are thinking of heading stateside by August.
Hi Lisa, I’m sorry to hear about the Captain’s illness and subsequent surgery. I think about how stressful it must have been for you. I’m glad he received what looks like timely and very good medical care, especially during COVID-19 pandemic. I wish him a solid recovery to good health. Take care of yourself, too, Lisa. I hope you have some time for yourself to recharge.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful photos and videos with us. The dolphins are amazing. I saw them in Greece and the Strait of Gibraltar before. They’re very playful and smart. I was in ICU a long time ago and remembered my struggle to recognize my family when I was wheeled out after surgery. It’s tough for the patient who’s just survived a traumatic event, and for the anxious family members who need assurance that their loved one is OK. Hang in there. My well wishes to you both.
Dolphins never fail to delight me, and I hope that both you and we have many more encounters with them in our futures. The Captain counts Greece among his top three sailing grounds, but I have not yet had the pleasure to sail there. The Gibraltar Strait is also high on my bucket list. Thank you for your kind feedback on the photos and videos.
Health challenges are never pleasant but were completely unnerving in the time of coronavirus. I am grateful that Fabio’s talented medical team pulled him through the worst of it and that he is now on the mend. I appreciate your empathetic ear given your struggles from long ago, but I wish that you’d never had to face such a traumatic event.
Hi Lisa, Your story is riveting and I’m sorry about Fabio’s illness. I can’t imagine how frightening it all was on top of the growing pandemic. Glad the Captain is on the mend and you found a place to hunker down. On a positive note, your images are stunning and I thoroughly enjoyed being mesmerized by your dolphin video. Anything to take our minds off the troubling daily news cycle. Warm wishes for safe and healthy days.
You’ve buoyed my spirits with your visit, supportive words for Fabio, and very kind feedback on the images. The daily news cycle is indeed troubling. Sometimes, it feels like I am watching a boxing match. Other times, it hits so close to home that I feel like one of the contenders. Still, I have faith that everything will turn out okay for the world in the end. I hope that you and we have many pods of dolphins in our future. Keep safe and well.
LUISAAAAA, finally back. It gives me great pleasure to greet you again and know that you are well. With the unprecedented situation that exists today, one cares about the friends. You are not the exception. But hey, again in what is your life. The wide sea. With you I travel virually your waves and I find your maritime adventure wonderful. I enjoy each one of your words because it seems extraordinary to me what you do in the middle of the immense ocean.
I am pleased to give you a big hug and a kiss the size of my immense affection for you.
Manuel
Thank you for your enthusiastic greeting, love, and affection, Manuel. I am glad to be counted among your friends. Kiss from the sea.
I receive it with that flavor that tastes like honey when it comes from you. Good things wait, so I am patient waiting for your adventures and your smile. Good weekend for you with all my affection and love.
Manuel
Your poetic prowess will take you very far in this lifetime.
As long as you don’t get lost in the southern seas. Your footprints in the sand do not fade.
I had no idea from your emails the extent of Fabio’s (and your) ordeal. I can’t imagine the helplessness you must have felt watching him go through this and not being able to fix it. It sounds like he was in good hands, though, and received great care from the doctors. Sometimes patients need Florence Nightingale and sometimes they need Nurse Ratched… I’m sure you will channel the correct one when needed. Best wishes for his continued recovery and for safe and healthy days ahead. Hugs, my friend.
Honestly, I was so overwhelmed in ‘the moment’ that I couldn’t find the words to express what we were going through. I am happy to report that we managed to find the perfect accommodation to support the Captain’s recovery. It ticks all the boxes – ground floor, sufficient room for us and the nurses, close to the hospital for housecalls from the doctors, discounted rate, and more than enough charm to make me never want to leave. Thank you for your love and good wishes.
I was so excited to see your post in my inbox as I’ve been wondering how you guys are doing…and then I read your first line. OMG Lisa, I can’t believe what you and Fabio have been through! This situation would be bad enough if it happened at home, in a place you’re familiar with, where you know the language…but out at sea, in the middle of COVID! Scary!!! You guys are tough cookies though and it sounds like Fabio has had very competent care. I am so relieved that he is on the road to recovery! Thank you for sharing this difficult and frightening ordeal. And thank you too for including that amazing dolphin video and gorgeous Baja photos. I needed those.
Sending best wishes for continued recovery and big hugs to you both! Caroline
I am glad that my images of magical Baja lifted your spirits. It is those memories and the promise of creating more that kept me optimistic when things looked grim. Fabio is now motivated by the dream of seeing it all again, requiring less ‘tough love’ from me. I hope that the next time you see a post from me in your inbox, it is all about long hikes in gorgeous anchorages and dalliances with abundant sea life rather than doctor visits and medical tests. Thank you for your love, and well wishes.
Oh, Lisa. What an order you BOTH have been through. I think you know we’re here for you and sending as much positive energy as we can for Fabio to continue healing, and for you to keeping finding your center of peace and calm. You’ve been incredibly strong, and that strength will get you through this. It WILL be OK. Here’s wishing you two will both be out at some incredibly peaceful anchorage soon, where you can BOTH fully recover and rest. Hugs to both of you from your Colombian amigos
Thank you so much for your support throughout the storm and continued good wishes. I am happy to report that I have caught up on my sleep and that Fabio is now ‘self-motivated’ to get back out on the helm. Tomorrow’s workout with the physiotherapist will include a walk out the front door and to the corner. A BIG baby step.
Excellent! Onward and upward
I was so happy to see your post in my inbox but gosh Lisa, what you both have gone through is unimaginable! Glad to know that Fabio is on the mend and I sincerely hope that you are giving yourself the tlc you need and much deserved. Everything will be alright and channeling all positive energy for a safe journey home. xx
Positive energy and good vibes received and welcome, Georgina. It has been an odyssey, but I am feeling more centered now and Fabio is getting better every day. We are looking forward to the anchorages that we have in our future!
xoxo
Oh my – what a scary story! I was afraid at some points to keep reading. I am so happy and relieved that the Captain is on the road to recovery. I hope you both continue to recover from this ordeal and have “smooth sailing” (hehehe, see what I did there?) ONLY ahead.
Hugs,
Deb
Thank you for the love and wishes for smooth sailing from here. I feel like I’ve finally caught up on my sleep, and Fabio is starting to talk about dreamy anchorages and making past dishes again (the sailing is important to me, but his excellent cooking is even more so :-). The insanity here had me miss your move to Vancouver Island. Very much looking forward to visiting your pages and seeing how it all turned out!
Holy crap! The only thing I can say is thank goodness things seem to be heading in the right direction, but my oh my what an ordeal for both of you. The happy drugs they give you in ICU for intubation make for some very vivid hallucinations.
Do take good care of yourselves. I hope the healing continues. Sending positive thoughts your way
You made me laugh out loud with your ‘Holy Crap.’ That pretty well sums up this latest chapter of our lives. But I am feeling more optimistic with every passing day, confident that we have some dreamy anchorages in our near-ish future. The Captain’s biggest concern now is his increased susceptibility to coronavirus. He was nodding vigorously in agreement as I read him your words this afternoon from your Self-Isolation Diaries – Entry #1
Not.
Going.
There.
Again.
Lisa, what a rollercoaster of emotions it has been for you. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for you both. I am glad the health care Fabio has received has been outstanding, even at this time of a global pandemic. Kudos to those doctors and nurses. The road to recovery can be long, but sounds like he is on the mend now. Take good care of yourself also Lisa, sending you lots of good wishes.
It has been a rollercoaster of emotions, indeed. But Fabio is getting better every day. It was great to have him back in the kitchen last night, helping to prepare dinner. Today he plans to take his first walk outside of the house, and tomorrow he is planning to make a pasta sauce. I so appreciate your visit and your good wishes.
What a time you’ve both had. At one point reading I thought you were going to say Fabio didn’t make it. Nooooooooo! So I was happy to read on and hear he’s on the mend, and also happy to know that the Mexican medical system came through for you. They did for us on a couple of occasions though nothing as serious as this. I can’t even imagine how worried you must have been. But I hope things have kind of settled for you a bit in your rented place and The Captain can mend properly and you can catch your breath and destress.
Your photos as usual are beautiful – especially honeymoon bay.
Wishing you both the very best!
Alison
At one point, I didn’t think he was going to make it either! I have never been so frightened about his chances of recovery. Thank goodness for the doctors and nurses who pulled him through. Surgeon Tarazon comes by the house daily, and Jesus, the physiotherapist, will be taking Fabio for his first walk out of the house today (the city center streets are still relatively empty, so social distancing is not too tricky). Fabio joined me in the kitchen last night to help prepare dinner, and he is planning on making a pasta sauce on Sunday. He is the real chef of the two of us, and we are both missing his cooking :-).
Thank you so much for the good wishes for the Captain and lovely feedback on the images. We are looking forward to getting back to those anchorages soon.
So steady progress. It’s enough for now. xo
Oh my, Lisa, you and Fabio have really been through the ringer! If the pandemic disruptions weren’t enough to stress about, his medical issues punctuate these uncertain times. I hadn’t seen you online much and this explains why. In any case your photos are quite incredible, and I’m glad you have a plan for recovery. Like everyone else, I’m sending hugs and prayers to you both and admire your patience and tenacity. Stay safe, dear friend!
Thank you for your love, prayers, hugs, and supportive words. It has been an odyssey, and I feel blessed that The Captain was able to pull through. We are both looking forward to exploring those beautiful Sea of Cortez anchorages again sometime soon. Fabio is getting better every day and plans to treat me to one of his famous pasta sauces on Sunday. We both miss his cooking very much. I am looking forward to visiting your pages again now that I’ve managed to catch my breath! Your Instagram flowers, beaches, and sunsets have been brightening my days.
Well, well. When I saw a post of yours had come through my mail, I thought. Good news. If Lisa has taken up the time to write, it means things are on the mend. I’d been wondering about how much sailing you had to do to get to La Paz, now I know. That was a close call. But I trust the Captain is on the mend, right? Hugs.
You are spot on! My head finally cleared enough to let me put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard). It was a close call, indeed. I wasn’t sure he was going to make it there for a while. Thank you so much for your supportive ear along the way and for your insights into Mexico’s health care costs. Fabio is getting stronger every day with promises of a pasta sauce on Sunday. We are both missing his cooking very much.
Yeah, I could sense your concern. (Which I shared under my breath. No point in adding) I wish I could have done more, but at least, though the recovery was slow, it was recovery. Is Fabio the cook on board too as well as the Captain?
Fabio is the master chef aboard Amandla, but I’ve become a bit more handy in the kitchen during his recovery. I won’t be opening a restaurant anytime soon, but at least we are not starving
Recovery going good, then?
Better every day. Mentally, I think he is ready to move back to the boat, but physically, I think it is wise to wait another week.
Wise it is. Hugs.
Oh my, Lisa! Your post started off so positive, inspiring, and wonderful – the surroundings in the Bay of Cortez are stunning and the video of the dolphins brings back such pleasant memories – that I forgot about your very first sentence.
As the events unfolded, I was pulled into the drama and feared the worst. Luckily, you both can recount the story. That was one scary episode after another! I’m so glad Fabio is finally on the mend. I hope he finds his mental strength after recovering physically. He looks so darn skinny! Loving hugs to both of you and please, wish him a speedy recovery and besos from all. I sent you a PM as well. <3 <3 <3
Thank you so much for your supportive words here and in my inbox. We miss your company very much and wish that this pandemic wasn’t keeping us apart. I remember your uplifting visit to New Zealand after his liver resection in 2015. I look forward to when we can be in your company again. Fabio is the skinniest that I have ever seen him, but the good news is that he was helping me in the kitchen last evening and is promising a pasta sauce on Sunday. His cooking will put the fat back on both of us in no time.
Fantastic memories. Looking forward to a repeat in drier weather.
Dear Lisa- I’m so sorry to hear about what you both have gone through. And so relieved to hear that Fabio is doing better. Your photos of Baja are incredible. I never pictured it so dramatic. I hope the relatively peaceful surroundings are bring both of you healing. Sending love.
Thank you for your love and wishes for peace, Julie. At one point, I didn’t think the Captain was going to make it, so I feel incredibly grateful that we have a comfortable spot to recover and those gorgeous anchorages to look forward to in our nearish future.
Dear Lisa, Oh, how I held my breath.. and prayed as I read. I’m sad to hear about that medical turbulence that you had to weather. But I do hope that Fabio’s health stabilizes and improves. I know the anxiety of going to hospital during COVID (my 88 yo dad has had to go 4 times the past few weeks and it’s been nerve-wracking for us all, following his every move… from afar). Wishing you both good health and calmer waters. Hugs from out here, Amit
You certainly understand medical turbulence and challenges faced on the long road to recovery. And I can appreciate how helpless you must feel to watch your father brave multiple hospital visits from afar. I hope that he is doing well now and does not have a need to revisit the hospitals anytime soon. Fabio is getting stronger every day (although I’ve not yet succeeded in convincing him to walk outside the house – we’ll get there). Thank you so much for your hugs and love.
My dad is hanging in there but not in great shape (heightened anxiety methinks), but we’re buoying him with whatever support and love is possible from afar (WhatsApp, Zoom, etc)! Thinking of you and Fabio too, onwards brave sailors – when the time is right xx
I can appreciate how heightened anxiety can hamper a recovery and I am glad that you are providing your dad with the best medicine: love.
Sending all the positive vibes I can muster to you and the Captain. I started reading thinking, well it was tough, but they had those views. Wow! Then it got so scary I had my heart in my mouth the whole way till I knew Fabio was safe. I hope his recovery continues to be strong and that you also find the strength to continue to support him with what he needs. Love to both.
It always brightens my day to see your smiling face on my pages, Anabel. Thank you so much for your love and supportive words. Fabio is getting better every day. He completed four-round trips walking in the back garden this afternoon and is keen to prepare his first pasta sauce tomorrow. We are both getting lots of rest and looking forward to more of those Sea of Cortez views in our near-ish future.
So glad to hear it!
Oh my! When I saw your reply to my earlier comment on your blog I was really worried because you mentioned about “a medical storm” that you went through. I didn’t expect it to be this severe. This ordeal you and Fabio had to experience sounds like something from a movie, except that it wasn’t, which makes it even scarier. Kudos to the doctors in Mexico! And despite the delirium, I’m so glad and relieved to know that Fabio is making progress. I hope the upcoming weeks and months will just be breeze and sunshine for both of you, especially after all the energy you spent to make it to this point.
Your wishes for endless breeze and sunshine put a big smile on my face! I am hoping they fill our near-ish future. Although Fabio continues to experience shortness of breath, his mobility has improved dramatically, and he is more active every day. He did four laps around the back garden today unassisted, and he is planning his first pasta sauce. I can’t wait to eat it.
Although I’ve gotten all these pieces as they’ve transpired, it is overwhelming to read them all at once! As I’ve said to you many times in the last few weeks, you have been a rock for Fabio. Now that he’s sane again he’d better be treating you right! (speaking of treating you right, is that gnocchi in the photo of him cooking? Yum!) Please give him all my very best wishes for a continued (and speedier) recovery. And enjoy your cute little place in town!
I am grateful that you were there to navigate through the darkness with me in real-time. You made all the difference in the world.
Now that Fabio is sane again, he is 85% loving Captain, 15% grumpy Captain, just like old times ;-). That is gnocchi in the picture, and it was delicious. It has become his signature series season. And speaking of cooking, I couldn’t keep him out of the kitchen. He is back there this afternoon, making his first pasta sauce. It is great to have him back once again.
I hope that you are having a delightful time with your adorable little spark and that you are in no hurry to get back to Houston.
So great to see him! Hope his own good cooking fattens him up a little! Yep, so glad to be away from Covid Central in Texas (wow, so bad) and enjoying both human and dog babies! I’ll send you some pics!
My Dear Lisa, You have certainly endured some difficult storms. My heart goes out to you and your captain. I send you lots of love and virtual hugs. Please continue to stay strong. I know of no one stronger than you.
Keep safe and I pray for your silver lining to come your way very soon.
Love Eva
I very much appreciate your prayers, love, and hugs, Eva. We are already finding many silver linings as we emerge from this latest storm. The Captain is getting stronger every day, we have a beautiful place for him to recover, we are comforted by good wishes from friends around the globe, and we have many rainbows to look forward to in our future. Cheers, Lisa
Lisa, I cannot imagine your fear! You have no doubt emerged a stronger person than you already were. Continued healing to the Captain….and hopes that you have a beautiful memory for your continued journey.
Vikki
In hindsight, I think the moment that freaked me out the most was when I walked into his assigned room and found it empty and readied for a new patient. He’d been moved to ICU because of his declining oxygenation levels, but the hospital failed to let me know. That was brutal. But you are right, the beautiful memories we’ve created so far are buoying both our spirits as are thoughts of the memories we will be creating in the near-ish future. Thank you for your good wishes for the Captain. He is getting better every day.
Lisa, you have again made it through tough times. Please give Fabio our best and we hope you can continue on your journey. My Dad is turning 100 this weekend so celebrating. Other tough stuff here as well.
Love and blessings to you and the captain.
Dave and Birgit
Happy 100th Birthday Dad/Dean! Always liked your father, Dave. He is a great guy. What a blessing that you still have him with you.
Thank you both for your good wishes. The Captain is getting stronger every day and is now back in the kitchen cooking (albeit seated as he is still tires easily and is continues to be short of breath). It is a HUGE improvement even from mid-week.
What a crazy year it has been for us and the world. I hope you are keeping safe and well. Wishing your entire family good things.
You and the Captain have survived another adventure.
Blessings to the both of you,
Phyllis
The Captain has used 5 of his 9 lives. Let’s hope it is a long, long time before he draws down on the next one. Thank you for the blessings, Phyllis.
I agree, Lisa. May your Captain be healthy from here on out. Continual blessings. ;0)
Wow! What an adventure. Someday this will all be a wild story that you tell. I can’t imagine all of this in the midst of a pandemic! It has hardly been smooth sailing! Still, there are some shining moments. The dolphins- harbingers of good, and the beautiful vistas a along the way. Also, that you have a good, competent sailor ready to join you and help you move Amandla. And you have a sailing gastroenterologist friend which is exactly what you needed at the time. How does that even happen? I’m sure that helped you feel better about the treatment the captain was getting.
On a personal level, you have been through a LOT. I had to smile at the picture of you in the hospital being told not to take it personally and of course you are taking it personally. Who wouldn’t? I’m glad things are looking up and you are off the ocean and giving the captain time to recuperate. I hope you are also getting time to recuperate from this ordeal. While you are playing nurse, please remember to take care of yourself!
Like lifelines from the universe, those shining moments buoyed us as we navigated through these storms. I have finally caught up on sleep. The Captain is more mobile every day but still hampered by shortness of breath and a high heart rate; two steps forward for every one step back. He will get there. Just before this happened, I’d penned a 1700 word article on our sailing and medical adventures that I’d planned to pitch to a newspaper or magazine. Now I am trying to figure out how to add in this latest chapter. I am hopeful it is the last medical tale I will be sharing for a long while.
Oh baby girl. My heart goes out to both of guy darlings. The captain is a badass and a fighter – just like you
Sending you a TON of hugs and love from Colorado
*you* not guys. Lol.
You put a huge smile on both of our faces with your ‘captain is a badass’ characterization. He is, indeed :-). I felt more like a heap of rubble than a rock in the thick of it, but I am getting my groove back too. Thank you for your visit, hug and love.
I found myself holding my breath, as your story moved from idylic anchorages to a full blown medical hurricane. Oh, Lisa, what a challenging time for both of you. It must have been so scary, and I can just imagine how anxious you must have felt. I am just glad that Fabio is recovering, and that you had the good fortune to find good doctors. Wishing you both health and peace of mind, especially in these difficult and uncertain times. Sending you a big virtual hug.
Thank you for your virtual hugs and supportive words. It is such a surreal time for the world. We are lucky that Fabio is through the worst of the storm and that his health continues to improve. He is moving about unassisted now and made his first pasta sauce last night. It was delicious. With him in the kitchen, we should both be fattening up in no time.
Bl**dy hell what a rollercoaster time you’ve both had! I’m so sorry to hear Fabio’s has been through such a rough time – he’s a tough hombre! Understandable his spirit would be at such a low point but I’m sure you’ll lift them in no time especially when he’s back to his normal self and sailing. The sea is extremely healing.
Sending you guys big hugs and well wishes for a speedy recovery.
Would love to have a cooking day and make Gnocchi with Captain Fabiolous! And, share a vino or two with you both.
He is one tough hombre indeed. The sea is just what he needs to soothe his soul. Hopefully, I can get him out to visit the boat this coming weekend. I am pleased to report that he is healthy enough now to get back into the kitchen, albeit seated as he tires easily. Made his first pasta sauce last evening, and it was delicious. He loves to give cooking lessons and has done so in many anchorages. Maybe one of these days, when he is feeling better, we can arrange a ZOOM cooking lesson so he can share his secret gnocchi recipe. Thank you for your good wishes and
Fantastic news and glad to hear he’s on the mend!
I’m sure you’re happy that he’s back in the kitchen and creating delicious dishes for you. That sounds like a great idea – would love that.
I hear that Tehani-li are sceduled to go through the Panama canal on Wednesday.
Dear Lisa and Captain Fabio, what a torrid time you’ve both had. I’ve read through your post a few times and each reading has confirmed in my mind how strong and resilient you both are. It must have been really stressful getting so ill in a strange country although Fabio’s Spanish language skills must have helped so much. Thank goodness you managed to get medical help in time and for the expertise and dedication of the doctors and nurses. The ICU delirium must have been horribly scary for you, Lisa. I’m so glad you’ve found a place where you can both rest and Fabio can heal and regain his strength. Sending you hugs and much love with good vibes for speedy recuperation. xxx
PS: I loved the dolphin video. So precious.
Thank you for your love and empathetic ear, Sylvia. It has been quite an odyssey, and we have so much to be thankful for. But the fear remains. There was an article in today’s New York Times about coronavirus patients emerging from ICU delirium, and Fabio won’t even read it because the memories of his own experience are still too vivid for him. On a more positive note, he is getting stronger every day and ambulating without assistance. He made a pasta sauce last evening, and it was delicious. We are both looking forward to more dolphins in the future.
You will both remain in my thoughts. Yummy pasta sauce sounds great. xx
LIsa, this was SO hard to read, so I can only begin to imagine how very challenging this time period has been for you! What a saga. Wow. Ben says “the upside other than of course the Captain having finally recovered is that if he had been treated in the U.S. it would have no doubt been the cost of a new sailboat!”
Seriously though, sorry that you have gone through such turbulent times. Seems like 2020 is quite the year for so many people. Hopefully he is now on the road to recovery as are you!!!
It did make us wonder what would have happened both with his rib fractures and the more serious stuff if you guys had been in the middle of the ocean when this all took place! Corona at least had you docked and close to medical attention. Whew.
Your video of the dolphins was pure delight and took us right back to a dolphin experience in Sri Lanka a few years ago where we watched spinning dolphins frolic near our boat in large pods.
Sending you love and hugs from down further South in Oaxaca
xoxoxo
Peta & Ben
I apologize for my delayed response, I actually did respond, but my blog seems to have eaten the comment. So here goes again.
Dolphins never get old. I hope that you and we have many more of them in our futures.
We are very lucky to have been sailing coastally when these events happened. But surprisingly, while the doctors’ fees were generally very reasonable, the hospital fees were questionably high. I’ve learned a great deal about the medical fees in Mexico (La Paz, Guadalajara, and Mexico City) and happy to share my insights with you if you are in need of medical care while residents in Mexico.
Thank you so much for your love and hugs from the south. Received and welcome.
Oh my heavens Lisa what an ordeal! when we messaged via social media I had no idea of the complexities and serious nature of the situation. It must have been incredibly hard for you to watch and wonder what might or might not happen. And all in the midst of a pandemic. I’m hoping the recovery is moving forward i na positive direction.
Your photos of the Sea of Cortez brought back incredible memories of our time spent there. The dolphin video is pure joy.
Sending huge hugs and best wishes to both of you. I will be watching for updates.
Thank you for your love and support, Sue. It has been an odyssey, and I am so grateful that Fabio’s recovery continues to move in a positive direction. It is a bit two steps forward, one step back here at the moment, but he is regaining his strength, moving about unassisted, making pasta sauce, and keeping me on my toes. Shortness of breath and a rapid heart rate is slowing his recovery slightly, but I am hopeful that exercise, good food, and treatments prescribed by the doctor will have him back at the helm in no time.
Oh my, oh my, oh my, Lisa, talking about urgencias! Your Captain is the man of the seven seas of miracles. You describe it well but none of us will ever know how tough it must have been for both of you. I do hope this has been it for now, as regards the lows, and it will only go up from now on. You both deserve it. Hugs and good vibes from Piran, the town on the last sea with the last light. <3 <3 <3
I love your description of the Captain being a man of the ‘seven seas of miracles.’ He is that indeed. You also set up a beautiful visual in my mind of Piran, the town on the last sea with the last light. It makes me long for more adventures in the future. I share your hope that his recovery continues to trend positive and that he remains healthy for many years to come. What a crazy year this has been for us and the world. Thank you for the hugs and good vibes.
Wow.
I do hope the Captain continues to improve. All the best to both of you during this difficult time. I am glad you were able to access the medical care that was needed.
Take care, Amy
Ahoy Amy! Thank you so much for your visit and good wishes. It is a challenging time for us and the world. We are grateful that the Captain had access to medical care and is on the mend. I hope you are adjusting to life back on your home soil and keeping well.
Scary stuff, darlin! I have to wonder how many ups and downs you two can weather. Seems to me you’re getting my share! Now don’t think I’m not grateful, but enough is enough! The man is made of stern stuff and your nerves must be shredded, Lisa. Now come on guys- no more dramas! I’ll settle for bobbing along in a peaceful bay, admiring the wildlife and scenery. That ok with you? Sending heaps of hugs.
Thank you for your hugs and for adding levity to our current moment. I think that the universe knows better than to mess with your directive that ‘enough is enough’ and will leave us be for a while ;-). I am happy to report that the Captain is getting better every day and I have finally caught up on lost sleep. We are looking forward to enjoying many peaceful, scenic bays brimming with wildlife in our near-ish future.
Oh Geez! What a horrible, traumatic time!. Sending love and best wishes (for you both) from the other side of the globe. xxx Trish
It has been an odyssey, but I am happy to report that The Captain is now trending positivity at a rate of 5 steps forward for every 1 step back. He’ll be back the helm soon with many more adventures awaiting. Thank you for your love and good wishes. Hoping you and Andrew are doing well.
“I was too busy taking it personally to hear them.” — Ah, as someone who is super sensitive to wording and tone, I couldn’t help but chuckle at this line. Yup, I feel that.
That said, I’m so glad to hear the Captain is on the mend. It’s wonderful to hear he tested negative for COVID, but still sounds like scary stuff.
I hope you are able to find some peace and respite in your charming casita, despite the stressors of your personal health crisis, as well as the one happening at a global level. <3
Always good to read your words, Lisa. As always, I enjoy seeing your pictures and getting a glimpse into where you are in the world.
Fabio continues to make great strides in his recovery, and I have managed to catch up on my sleep. Now just hoping that the world will find peace and respite soon. Always a treat to see you here, Britta! Thank you for your visit and good wishes.
Oh God Lisa, you have both been through a nightmare.. after all the waiting for the results in Singapore you probably thought the worst was behind you…. so glad everything is ok now and please give Fabio a big hug from me. Take care and best wishes and hope to share an anchorage again someday with you. Xcc
Grateful for your supportive ear as I navigated through the worst of the storm. Hugs received and welcomed by Fabio. He is getting better every day and is mentally ready to return to the boat, although physically, I think he could benefit from another week to 10 days on land. We very much look forward to sharing one or several anchorages with you and Ian again someday.
O M G. Seriously O M G. SOOO thankful that you are both on the mend physically and emotionally! I am exhausted just reading your essay (as always, LOVE your writing, Lisa Dorenfest) and cannot begin to imagine the stress you both have been through. Sending you and the captain virtual hugs and rejuvenating brain waves (to the extent that I can spare any brain waves with what we are going through here!) and glad you are both well enough to be seriously considering picking up stakes. We remain mostly in lockdown at my house but have room if you guys could use a base in SoCal. (On the other hand, if you can stay down south and work remotely I would suggest seriously considering.) Love and hugs, Carolyn
As always, you are so incredibly awesome. I am grateful for your hugs, rejuvenating brainwaves, love, and offer of shelter from the storm. Fabio is improving exponentially every day and could probably return to the boat next week, but we’ve decided to stay land-based until mid-July to heal fully. I am hoping to secure a role that would allow me to work remotely from Mexico until the US manages its COVID crisis, and I would be thrilled to land a California based position in the longer term.
I am looking forward to seeing you when the madness is behind us.
Dear Lisa, I was making notes as I was reading your post. My thoughts are in chronological order. By the time I got to the end, all I want to say is Hugs, Hugs, Hugs. Sending love to you and Fabio
Nice to see you here, Lisa. Oh dear, “the calm before the storms…”. A huge darn, when the Captain lost his footing. Thank goodness for friends, especially friends like Steve. You make a good point, Lisa, on noticing and feeling when the vibe is changing. Sometimes, I cannot pinpoint a specific incident, yet it can be an accumulation of small incidences. Also, likely what the media highlights. I am hearing about toilet paper hoarding again. A resurgence of fear and panic buying.
Friends stranded around the globe is a sad and scary feeling. Good grief on the dichotomy of significant testing/social distancing versus nothing/cattle-herded.
This sentence gave me goosebumps “The protective face masks couldn’t hide the fear.
I can see the “magic” in your exceptionally, stunning photos!
I am very thankful you and Fabio found expert advice and care along the way. Challenging to be sick at any time. Especially challenging right now. No words, Lisa. Infinite hugs
You are so cute with your ‘huge darn’ about Fabio losing his footing.
Scary to hear panic buying is making a comeback. Is this in the US, Canada, or both? I guess it shouldn’t be a surprise with the upward trend in COVID cases in the US.
Thank you as always for the detailed read of my post and very kind feedback. Your love and infinite hugs will greatly aid our recovery.
Surprisingly, the panic buying, hoarding, running out is in localized areas of Australia. I am hearing this from a specific friend. Of course, I am wary of any media sources these days. I guess we can expect uncertainty around the globe. Thank you again for your thoughtful comment about Alisha. We are both checking out ‘The Lily.’ I truly hope Fabio is continuing to mend. Very challenging to worry about loved ones. xx
I have read of a new outbreak in the state of Victoria, Australia which has probably spurred the hoarding. Here is the contact information for the Lily or send a pitch directly to the editor, Neema Roshania Patel
You are right, Lisa. I think they are actually enforcing a lock down for at least 5 days. Hopefully, all will go in the right direction. Thank you for the above information. I will keep you in the loop. xx
Looking forward to seeing Alisha’s words and images in the Lily soon :-).
Thank you for your kind, encouraging words. I am sharing all with Alisha. Take care.
Lisa, I’m so sorry you’ve been going through all of this. I had noticed your silence on social media, and figured you were busy, not knowing you were in the middle of all of this. Thank you for sharing – another wonderfully written and photographed post. But please do take care of yourself. I hope you and Fabio are back to normal, as much as we can be in this weird time, soon! Sending you virtual hugs!
Great to see you here, Peggy. Thank you for your visit and your supportive comment. Fabio’s recovery continues on a very positive trajectory, and we look forward to visiting more beautiful anchorages in our near future. May the world’s healing be close behind.
Thank you, Lisa! It is good to be here. It is easy to get caught up in social media, but I have always preferred being here with my blogging friends. Fabio is such a fighter – it was hard to read your post and all that he went through (and you, too!). I am so impressed he continues to do well. He’s amazing, and you guys apparently do have a lot yet to do! I can’t wait to hear about more adventures. I know it will be soon.
OMG, what an adventure! So many happenings. All my best!
The good news is that the Captain is getting better every day. He is back in the kitchen and I look forward to having him back on the helm soon.
Poor Captain! He seems to have more than a fair share of serious health problems. I hope everything continues to get better.
Fabio’s health is improving exponentially every day. He is back in the kitchen full time (thank goodness!) and will be back at the helm in no time. We will move back on Amandla mid-month.
How scary. It provides context in the time of COVID, not everything is about COVID. Here’s to a successful recovery, and a return to what passes for normal these days.
Wise words, Dave. While COVID infuses our discourse these days, other aspects of life (the good, bad, and ugly) continue onward. We are grateful that COVID didn’t further complicate his situation as I doubt he would have survived a positive diagnosis. I am happy to report that the Captain is improving exponentially now. He is back in the kitchen, making me yummy things and will be back on the boat mid-July. Lovely to see your smiling face here. Thank you for your visit.
Wishing both of you all sorts of beauty and continued strength as you readjust and rehab.
Thank you so much for your good wishes, Atreyee. The Captain is making significant progress and should be back aboard Amandla mid-month.
This could so easily have gone the other way with everything that’s happening around us. Glad to hear the recovery continues, and it was so fortuitous you weren’t way out to sea (or even within the crisis of mainland USA) when this crescendoed.
Crazy times in a crazy world. I feel so blessed that we were exactly where we were and that the Captain’s pulled through. He’s back in the kitchen, making me yummy pasta sauces and will be back on the helm very soon—hugs from La Paz.
Wow, Lisa! How awful. Glad to hear the Captain is back on his feet now though.
He is unsinkable, Richard. His recovery started off at a snail’s pace but has progressed exponentially over time. He’s cooking up a storm and busily planning our next adventure.
Oh Lisa, what an experience the two of you have had. You’ve really been put through the wringer. I’m thrilled to hear that the Captain is recovering. He must have relished his first steps outside. And it sounds like in addition to taking wonderful care of him, you’re also taking good care of yourself. Here’s wishing a speedy recovery, continuing great health, and some delicious pasta. All the best, Terri
We are so fortunate to have a comfortable place for Fabio (and me) to recover. Fabio is cooking up a storm now rather than weathering a medical one and is busily planning our next passage. Unsinkable! Thank you so much for your kind note and for follow.
The pleasure is all mine, Lisa. Our previous blog theme developed a problem and we lost all our follows, so I’m going through to redo them all. Thrilled to hear that Fabio is cooking up a storm – that’s always a good sign. ~Terri
Oh my goodness, sorry to hear about the technical glitch that resulted in the loss of your follows! Today, Fabio returned to the boat to do a few hours of routine maintenance. It was great to see him back on board. We will return to her full-time on Thursday.
And than you for the follow, too! ~Terri
What an adventure! Fortunately, it ended well. I really hope you are all recovering. Definitely not easy but we must keep going! Well done.
Ahoy Markus + Micah. Lovely to meet you on the virtual road. Happy to report that the Captain returned to the ship today to complete a few hours of maintenance tasks and we will move back aboard on Thursday. The plan is to throw off the dock lines once again at the end of the month in search of more dolphins.
Good to know all is well. It is refreshing to see life keeps going for you onboard. Enjoy the dolphins and hopefully a lot smooth sailing next!
I am so sorry it’s taken me so long to get here to your blogging station. And to not send you prayers and encouragement earlier on. But you two are so resilient and courageous and, really, inspirations, although I imagine at the time you didn’t feel that way. Glad to read in your comments that the Captain is improving and getting strong enough to soon search for more dolphins. What the body can do, when the spirit is GREAT. <3
Absolutely no worries, Pam. It is always a pleasure to hear from you. Positivity and encouragement are welcome anytime. We’ve extended our time in our charming little casita for a few extra days to allow the Captain to focus on recovery rather than boat maintenance and for me to enjoy a little stay-cation. It has been a real treat, except for what got us here in the first place
Hi! Read your comments with Peta and Ben in Green Global Trek and just thought I’d stop by and say thinking of you both and hoping you’re well as you decide on the next steps in your adventure called “life.” xo
hi Lisa
Glad the captain is getting better (read a few comments) and sending blog hugs and prayers your way!
And as others have said – the photos are the usual wonderful and “dorenfantastic”
Awwww, thank you for saying my photos are ‘dorenfantastic’. That put a huge smile on my face today, Yvette. Thank you for your good wishes and prayers. The Captain is doing really well now, and we will be back at the boat next week. Hugs from La Paz
So glad to hear that –
Blog Hugs to both
Lisa! Wow! I need to rest after reading about the latest escapades of you and your Captain! The world is a bit crazy right now. Enjoy all you can. David
It has indeed been a turbulent year for everyone, and we are only six months in!!! Your coronavirus diaries capture the impact so succinctly. We share your concern about returning to the US with cases on the rise. Hoping your little piece of the Bahamas remains hurricane and COVID free. May we all have many more enjoyable moments in our futures.
What an experience…..I’m glad I am reading after the fact and that things turned out ok! Your pictures are awesome and the medical care he received was top notch! My best to you both!! Take Care!!
This sounded like such a scary time in such an uncertain time in the world. It sounded like things escalated quickly with Fabio and good that the two of you responded quickly, and he got operated on in just the right moment. It was really lovely to have some of your sailing friends help you along the way, and everyone turned out well in the end. I think for those of us who mean well, luck and timing will always be on our side when it matters most. I heard the pandemic is not at all good over there and spreading fast, so I hope you and crew take care of each other and stay safe. Hugs from Mr Wobbles and the Star Wars crew here.
Renee,
Himself gave me a brief run down on the current situation over on Messenger, and then he gave me a link to your blog for the run-up. My first reaction was I told Lilly that I am sooooo glad those two stayed together! I always hoped that you would…
I likely bare some of the responsibility for Fabio’s issues, as I admit that I have slacked-off in my prayers for you both. I will rectify that now.
We are pretty much at the mercy of a flip of the coin as we wait and watch the borders of southern South America. We go to Brazilian Customs and Immigration Monday to try to get another extension. If they give us until March we will continue waiting and watching – but as the season gets later it becomes more likely that we will be seeing part of a Patagonian winter… On the other hand, we may have to sail N for the Caribbean and the States if we run out of time here in Brazil.
Stay well Boat Woman – we will try to do better on this end.
Lots of Love,
Tom (and of course Lilly)
S/V Tiger Lilly
Santos, Brazil
Wow. I have been away from my own blog due to mentally exhausting medical hardships. You haven’t posted in a long while. Covid turned out to be bigger than first hoped. I hope you are weathering the storm somewhere warm with your Captain.
Parting note, ICU psychosis is a witch. I sailed past sub-arachnoid cerebral hemmorhage but the craniotomy a month later sent me down some very obscure, surreal hallways back in the 90’s.
I hope you are well. If you are, can you blog about cooking onboard? We bought a boat since I started the blog.