Finally, we've untied the dock lines and glided out of the harbour toward some much needed freedom. Whatever projects have not been completed will just have to wait til we come back in April.

We bob along as our legs become accustomed once again to the familiar roll that accompanies us while underway. This is a short jaunt to Stone Island where we'll stay at anchor for a few days and wait for our buddy boat to spring themselves from the boat projects.

Ahh the joys of being free. We pump up our newly acquired inflatable kayak once we drop anchor and amuse the locals and tourists alike while we try to paddle the darn thing to the little bay where we enjoy the pizza (with weiners on it) cooked over a wood fire.

The kayak has a mind of it's own and we're dizzy from looping aimlessly in 360 degree circles and veering from one side of the bay to the other while trying to gain access to the beach.

Yup, we look like pros out here and there's nowhere to hide.

We feel we deserve cold beer once we touch land and the pizza is as good as we remembered it.

Perhaps we've had one cold beer too many when we hop back in the kayak but it seems that our tipsiness combined with the kayak's rebelliousness combine to make a smoother trip back to the boat.

As darkness descends we both sit below listening to the radio nets. This is how we keep in contact with friends and learn where they are and where they're going and make plans to meet. In marinas the radio signals are very fickle so we haven't heard much from our amigos til now.

Completely enthralled while listening to our friends Erik and Terry report their location across the sea of Cortez, Joe is just about to hail them when a very bright light shines down into our companionway. Since we are the only boat anchored here you can imagine our surprise as we clamber up the companionway steps to see what's going on.

On our port stern quarter we see a mass of grey that we soon realize is the Mexican Navy. Running without any lights but for the huge spotlight that's playing along our decks and into the cockpit the vessel is bedecked with 8 to 10 uniformed men with assault rifles slung over their shoulders. And they're looking at us.

Forgive me for not getting an exact count but the machine guns distracted me.

As their vessel looms over us the only English speaker in the group asked what we're doing, where we're going and says that they need to see our documents.

Joe goes below to gather the files and I ask what exactly they need to see and if I should put fenders out to keep their boat from damaging ours.

Passports and papers granting permission to be in the country are the only papers required and yes, we should put out fenders. Fenders means that they probably intend to board our boat. Not happy news.

Shakily, Joe extracts the requested documents and the navy vessel creeps close enough for us to pass them the papers.

The instant the papers are in their possession they allow the current to take their unlit boat away in the darkness and they stay about a hundred yards from Pacific Jade for 20 or 30 minutes. Probably waiting to see what we'll do.

Passports and permission to be in the country papers are the most important documents any traveler carries and we're VERY nervous having them inaccessible to us.

When we're thoroughly intimidated we hear the engines start and the ugly grey vessel heads back to PJ.

Our papers are carefully passed back to Joe and the Lieutenant (didn't catch his name) informs us that they must board our vessel.

As the Lieutenant perches himself on the bow of their vessel it is inched toward PJ til they're close enough for Joe to assist him on board. One of the big assault rifles with a sailor holding it up intends to follow but the rocking of both boats in the swell and current make it difficult for the helmsman to keep the boats close for any length of time. Reluctant to jump aboard during the few seconds they're close enough the sailor is (thankfully) left behind and the navy ship backs slightly off leaving only the gunless Lieutenant on PJ's deck.

Once aboard, we escort him below and he comments on how nice our boat is. She is a charmer with the wood gleaming under the glow of the oil lamps. Also, she looks like a home and he seems to relax some in the ambience.

Looking around, Leuitenant what's his name asks Joe to open bilges and hatches and makes rudimentary checks for hidden compartments. Repeatedly, he asks where we're going, what stops we'll make, what direction we're headed and so forth then says that everything looks OK and he's sorry for the bother. He tells us they've been having drug problems and are doing random checks.

Joe tells him, that's fine and we're glad to see them out there doing their job to protect us. Nice touch Joe.

"Sure" he says, "just call us on channel 16 if you're in trouble."

The navy vessel creeps back to help their Lieutenant on board and Joe and I wave and smile as they pull away. With the smiles still pasted to our terrified faces we go below to seek out clean underwear.

The next morning Nicolas Cage's boat drops anchor near us (we know it's his boat because he's staying at Marina Mazatlan) and like a good neighbor I call Nick up on the radio to inform him of our nocturnal visit. He asked what they wanted in the way of papers if they took anything and said that they'd just been fishing and were going to rest up before heading back to the marina.