Dorveille.

As we were sailing from Mazatlán to Topolobampo, we decided against the initial plan of following the wind and crossing the Sea of Cortéz twice. There was no real need to do so. Instead, we slowly advanced up North by tacking back and forth against the wind. With a little help from the engines, of course. Tacking means that we logged nearly 300 nautical miles for a distance of just 200 miles had it been in a straight line. It took us 2 days and 2 nights. 

Going to sleep at sunset, waking up around midnight to enjoy a couple of magical watch time hours before slipping back into a satisfactory 4-hour slumber, that is how I experience my shift during our overnight sailing passages. Which is another reason why My Captain and I are a well-adjusted sailing team: his waking hours are the opposite of mine. 

It was during the night passage from Mazatlán to Altata -as I was enjoying my audio book “Harlem Shuffle” while staring into the void – that I learned about the concept of “dorveille” or “segmented sleep”. Apparently, in the old days before the industrial revolution and electricity most people slept in two discrete blocks. The waking hours in between those blocks- called dorveille by the poetic French – was the realm of “me-time” and utter personal freedom. It was enthusiastically used for all kinds of purposes.

I too, love dorveille, even when it is not a sailing necessity. It was during dorveille, also described as a state of “non anxious wakefulness”, that I heard the eerie song of the whales when they were hanging around O2 at Isla Isabela while everybody else on board was fast asleep. (When I told them in the morning, they were sure I had been hallucinating. But My Captain knew I was telling the truth.)

On our way to Topolobampo we stopped for a couple of nights in Altata, a traditional shrimping community fishing for the delicious Wild Blue Shrimps.  The shrimps they daily bring ashore are prepared in marisquerías lining the “malecón”. My Captain had camarones gratinados and I camarones zarandeados. (Shaken, not stirred.) It is my absolute favorite dish, by far.

While were dinghying to the center of old Altata, O2 was docked in the small but brand-new yachting marina of peaceful Nuevo Altata. On shore, bright white mansions were glistening in the sun amongst palmtrees and bright red bougainvillea. According to the gringos on SV Nomad, it was not unlike Miami Beach. We arrived on a Sunday and were lucky enough to watch a mini triathlon from our excellent vantage point aboard O2.

We have now arrived in Topolobampo where the shrimping activity is on a whole different level. Nobody feels the net with a spidery touch for vibrations.

Here we will leave O2 docked until mid December. We ourselves have booked a cabin on the ferry to La Paz for this Tuesday. We are allowed on board around 8PM and the ferry departs 1 minute before midnight for the 6-hour crossing of the Sea of Cortéz. Perfect timing for some exquisite dorveille activity.