Dolphin completion and an ode to Stone Island

April 8, 2014 Cameron Belscher

During the past five weeks Jacqui and I have soldiered on each day with our occasional, and understandable, ups and downs. As the Dolphin project finally dwindled to mere touch ups and packing, it seemed the magnitude and stress of it all had finally caught up with us. What should very well have been the easiest part of this entire project, had become the most difficult.

From the day we started on the Dolphin till completion we worked seven days a week to get our home back, the one day we didn't work on construction, we spent the entirety of it shopping for parts. I think it's safe to say, when move-in time finally hit, Jacqui and I were burnt out. For the last few days of work, which should have taken mere hours, our belongings were half in the Dolphin, half scattered around us. No matter how hard we searched for inner motivation to finish the dwindling tasks, our feet were dragging and we were in snappy moods. It's one of those moments in life where anything and everything suddenly becomes far more interesting than the task at hand.

BUT!....The Dolphin is complete and tomorrow morning is the big day of departure! We’re hoping our first stop, North of Puerto Vallarta, will gift us with good wind for a long overdue kiteboarding session. But before we hit the road, a few before and after pictures of the Dolphin.

Finally departing is a bittersweet feeling. Isla de la Piedra (Stone Island) has definitely become a home to us. We have friends, locals and within the RV park, that we recognize daily. We have favorite spots to hang, know the best food around and have gotten to know the lay of the land. This will always be a place that we remember fondly. So Jacqui and I would like to offer an ode to our home from the past month and a half.

Perfect explanation of our personalities

Waving while riding the quad through town

People coming from Mazatland to Stone Island

You'd be surprised all the things they stick on the water taxi's

Riding the bus through Mazatlan, major stops are written directly on the window

If you go far enough down the beach it's untouched

Right boat, right time

April 4, 2014 Cameron Belscher

The day after arriving Dolphin-less at Tres Amigos, Jacqui and I woke to the air of uncertainty. We still had no price quote from our mechanic, and very little information due to our poor Spanish skills.

Knowing that the solid metal differential was bent in our Dolphin, I was unsure what these mechanics were going to be able to do. In my old place of employment, Engine Works, we would sublet out most heavy differential work to our crazy Australian Pete of Pete’s Gear Shop. This left me with a lack of experience in this area of repair, and wondering how on earth they could straighten this thing. I was half expecting the mechanic to call and say it wasn’t possible.

This became one of those moments in life that requires a little self-reflection. I definitely like to have control over a situation, and I work hard to help eliminate unknowns in my life. However, this was a time when I had to let Jacqui tell me to stop stressing since there was nothing I could do. So on the advice of our Tres Amigos neighbor, we decided we should drop by the mechanic at midday for a little information and progress report. At least in person, pointing and gestures could assist our poor Spanish skills.

On a beautiful sunny day we made our way to the tiny local dock to catch a water taxi (panga) into Mazatlan. With everyone loaded up, the boat took off to make its first stop at the second Stone Island pickup area. It was here that things once again took a drastic change for Jacqui and I. There’s really no way to make sense of how these things come together. To review…

Our major car accident had absolutely no injuries. Our vehicle was hit in the “perfect spot,” not causing more serious or flammable damage. After the accident, people we hardly knew offered us a place to stay while we figured out what to do with our Dolphin. When we decided to repair the Dolphin, there just happened to be a retired carpenter in the RV Park who was unbelievably happy to help us. Now, stepping onto the very same boat as us…was Dani.

I won’t say either Jacqui or myself particularly knew this Dani fellow. Dani is a local who does carpentry work, and owns a piece of property on Stone Island where a friend of his does mechanic work. Dani had previously referred me to the welder that did work on the Dolphin, and had offered to let me use a few of his tools before disappearing for weeks. I had all but forgotten of his existence, but there he was standing in front of us.

Jacqui and I were happy to see a familiar face and exchanged greetings with Dani. He informed us he’d been away for the past few weeks, and then asked how things were going with the Dolphin. After a quick rundown of our situation, Dani insisted on personally driving us to the mechanic. He wanted to talk with them, and translate for us. He was concerned that because of our poor Spanish, the shop might try to rip us off, and if we needed a new differential, he had connections to help us find one.

Just like that everything changed again. Five minutes earlier the future was foreboding. Unknown costs, unknown solutions, unknown outcome. Suddenly we had a local on our side, and what an amazing person Dani, barely more than a stranger, turned out to be.

We hopped in Dani’s old beat up Nissan, his wife and one year old daughter sitting in front, and began experiencing what it was like to drive with a true local. As we drove with no one wearing a seat belt, and the baby in mom’s lap, Dani darted in and out of traffic only slowing to honk and wave at all the people he recognized in the street. After cutting off a bus, darting through a gas station parking lot and blasting by a cop, a taxi in front of us stopped suddenly. Dani locked up the brakes and barely dodged the collision. This was met with absolutely no emotional response from anyone; just as normal as a right turn here I guess. After tagging along for some time while Dani ran errands, we finally arrived at the mechanic shop that had our Dolphin.

Dani really chopped it up with the shop for us. He asked the questions that were needed, assured Jacqui and I we had picked an excellent shop, and was talking strategy with the guys in the office to get us a good price. He told the shop that we have been coming to Mazatlan for five years, and that we were his good friends. He also informed the owner of the shop we have lots of tourist friends in our RV Park who are always looking for a good mechanic, so if they take good care of us, they’d get more business.

The whole rear of the Dolphin gutted, suspension parts all over.

Leaf springs with their bollted on reinforcements

Julien, that big gear is what you need to replace on your Jeep BTW!

The shop was still unable to give us a price at the time, due to subletting out part of the work, but we left with big smiles and confidence that things were now going our way. We spent a couple more hours with Dani running errands and getting some delicious Mexican seafood cocktails. I certainly can’t tell you everything that was in the cocktails, but at least octopus and shrimp were identifiable. Finally we hopped aboard a Panga again to head back to Stone Island.

Two days later, full of excitement, we finally returned to pick up our home. The mechanic asked me to hop in the pit, then gave me a tour of all the work he completed. Despite the language barrier, I got the distinct impression he was excited to show what he’d done to someone who could understand and appreciate. Jacqui and I gave lots of handshakes and thanks to not only the mechanic, but the rest of the staff who had helped us. I took our Dolphin for a brief test drive and couldn’t wipe the smile off my face that she was cruising straight as an arrow.

Very advanced lift system...a chain hoist!

With the enthusiasm running through my veins, conversational caution was thrown to the wind. For the first time it felt like I had a real Spanish conversation with someone. I got to know that the mechanic lived on Stone Island, told him our travel plans, places we want to see and why on earth we’d want to try to drive to Chile. We showed him pictures of the crash, and he asked me if I had done all the work myself. In the excitement of the conversation I answered yes. Luckily Jacqui was kind enough to show me my mistake by swatting me and saying, “Y yo!” (And me!)

This of course reminded me to tell our mechanic that Jacqui is a good woman, pero muy peligrosa (but very dangerous).

Perhaps those Pimsler Spanish tapes are finally paying off for Jacqui and I. Perhaps we’ve learned far more Spanish than we thought, and just needed to stop being timid about conversations. Maybe it’s just as simple as the immersion we’ve put ourselves in, is filling us with Spanish like osmosis. Whatever the reason, it was an amazing feeling. Jacqui and I have wanted to learn Spanish for the sole reason of conversing with locals. After all, that is where the true richness of this adventure will come.

So when all was said and done, we paid a grand total of 4300 pesos (about $330USD). For the amount of work that was done, unbelievable! I can proudly say that, despite the exterior battle scar and not being completely finished, the Dolphin feels mechanically and structurally upgraded from the day we began this journey. If I’m not mistaken, some of the suspension work done has even left the back end of the old girl sitting a bit higher. Woohoo! Ground clearance! The thing our old girl lacks more than anything else!

For the first time in nearly 5 weeks, Jacqui and I are parked on the beach at Tres Amigos, in our very own Dolphin.

Quick checkover after the drive back to Tres Amigos

Our garage. It has a pretty decent view.

Jacqui putting some finishing touches in the bed area for our first night back in the Dolphin

First dinner at home had to be a good one!

The first drive!

April 1, 2014 Cameron Belscher

After going out to breakfast with our tres amigos from Tres Amigos, it was finally time to take the Dolphin on her post-construction maiden voyage. The plan was to find a mechanic shop to perform an alignment in Mazatlan. Despite the suspension work already completed, the Dolphin was ‘dog tracking.' In other words, driving diagonally while moving straight. However, the Dolphin isn’t a typical vehicle, and not any shop can perform an alignment on her. Having dual rear wheels already means she’d need to go to go on a truck alignment machine, and being extremely narrow for a car with dual wheels meant she wasn’t going to fit onto just any alignment machine.

First time out of the parking spot in nearly a month.

So Jacqui and I hit the smooth paved roads and glided our way into Mazatlan where everything was fixed and we're living happily ever after. Except for the 10 straight miles of dirt road that rattled and beat the Dolphin only slightly less than our nerves. Nothing like trial running a piece of machinery you're unsure of on Mexican roads. Then of course there's the fact that it's not actually fixed yet, but that's just an ominous foreshadowing of a story that's still unfolding as I write.

The smoooooth  roads with....uh... no pavement and horses in the way. — The smoooooth roads with....uh... no pavement and horses in the way.

Our first stop, recommended by friends, seemed an obvious first choice. We pulled into a very clean, modern looking Michelin dealer where I butchered the Spanish word for alignment. They immediately instructed me to pull my car directly onto the lift. Keep in mind, mechanic shops in the States won't even allow you to walk in the working area due to all the insurance and liability issues. Regardless, we’re in Mexico, and I did what was bid of me. Watching the Dolphin ascending on the lift and seeing a semi being worked on in the adjacent stall, it felt like the air in the room whispered to me, 'you've come to the right place.'

Well, the air lied. The mechanic spent quite a few minutes scratching his head, and I spent several more explaining the work I’d already completed. I showed him pictures, and explained what I wanted done, but I was given the 'no go'. These mechanics were very familiar with changing tires and performing alignments for maintenance, but he was head-scratching clueless on what to do with our post accident Dolphin. On vehicles with solid rear axles such as our Dolphin, you don't normally need to perform any kind of alignment on the rear. The differential or axle assembly is simply bolted to the center of your springs at the factory, and the front wheels are adjusted to match as needed. Maybe moving a rear axle was something he'd never done, maybe he wasn't a very good mechanic, maybe he was telling me some completely other reason he couldn't do it. The language barrier between us only provided one answer, he wasn't going to complete this job. So after asking a recommendation of someone who could, we hit the road again.

Mechanic shop #2 was quite the opposite of the Michelin dealer. Dirty, greasy, used tires scattered and instead of lifts, holes in the ground. After parking over the pit, I crawled under the car to begin my routine of rough Spanish and pantomiming to articulate the history and needs of this vehicle. This mechanic then noticed something I hadn’t; the center bolt used to align the axle assembly was bent. He was confident he could fix our rig in an hour or two for 300 pesos (about $24USD). SOLD! There was only one thing to do, go to the nearby mercado, which was clearly never visited by tourists, to get some lunch.

An hour and 300 pesos later, we hit the road smiling. I immediately noticed, though better than before, the steering wheel was still off-center. So we set out in search of a shop with an actual alignment machine, figuring the Dolphin just needed some fine-tuning. Fortunately, we were in a part of town that had far more than a plethora of mechanic shops. Unfortunately, it would seem every odd number shop we visited was incapable of working on our rig. So after wasting time at another clean shop with lifts, we were recommended to another dirty shops with pits. Perhaps the truly competent mechanics of Mexico simply prefer working in a hole in the ground, or maybe it's only coincidence. Either way this shop contained the most knowledgeable mechanic we'd found so far.

Too narrow to fit on the machine at shop #3

This mechanic wasted no time disassembling, measuring, and adjusting away. I crawled into the pit several times to understand the progress that was being made, and try to learn a thing or two from a mechanic much more experienced than I. After a few minutes the mechanic delivered news I neither expected nor wanted to hear. There was no installing this axle straight...because it was bent.

Back to the dirty greasy scenery at mechanic shop #4

This is one of those moments that I let out a large exhale immediately followed by silence. Simultaneously my eyelids become heavier, my eyes become incapable of looking any higher than my feet, and my thumb and middle fingers begin instinctually trying to knead the pressure out from my temples.

After rubbing my temples long enough to jump-start my brain, it became obvious how dramatically the tides had changed. Seconds earlier I had a type of knowledge and control over the situation. I needed only to find someone with the equipment to perform the repairs I wanted. Now I had no idea if the axle was repairable or, if it wasn't, where in Mexico I, with my limited geographical and linguistic knowledge, was going to find a new one.

I asked the mechanic what the shop could do. The only proposed solution was to remove the entire assembly and deliver it to a specialist the next day. They assured us it could be repaired in two days, but were unable to give us a cost since they were outsourcing this repair. Entering into an area of unfamiliar mechanical repair with unknown costs is not a great feeling. I'm suddenly forced to sympathize with the masses of normal people trying to find mechanics every day. I have to say, I'm not terribly enjoying my newfound understanding of my fellow humans.

Despite the fear of the unknown, there is some comedy to be found in this situation. Three times we’ve returned to Tres Amigos RV Park, and it would seem each time we do so more broken than the last. We pulled in excited and whole in our beautiful Dolphin the first time. We limped in our broken, door-less Dolphin held together by a rope the second. But tonight, we walked in with our belongings on our back, and a beer in our hands.

Perhaps the world is simply testing our dedication to this adventure.

A pinch of progress

March 10, 2014 Cameron Belscher

With the welder arriving today we tore out the entire bathroom and entry floor in preparation. There was some hidden dry rot under the tub so it was time to realize, if we wanted to complete the job with any level of quality, the whole thing had to come out. After all, the day may come when Jacqui and I may want to sell the Dolphin to some other couple with grandiose dreams of adventure, and the last thing I want to do is give them a lemon.

With the floor out it was easy to see that even brand new there was some inadequate engineering in the Dolphin. So we had the welder put in a whole extra steel beam, as well as replace a damaged one, so that the old girl will be sturdier than ever. Also the new floor will serve as an anchor point for the walls. This is definitely a large project, and I have had a few fantasies of bulldozing the whole thing into a flat bed truck and buying a cab-over camper, but it’s becoming more obvious that we’ve made the right decision.

Oh ya, one more thing. All the work and materials today cost a massive $50USD.

Prepping a steel beam to be welded into the Dolphin

Measured, cut, mocked in place and ready to be welded.

He's standing where the toilet should be.

Trimming the steel so the holding tanks will fit in place.

Jacqui is standing where the dining area should  be. — Jacqui is standing where the dining area should be.

Replacement beam for the damaged one installed.

Hope for the Dolphin

March 9, 2014 Cameron Belscher

As Jacqui and I woke that morning in 3 Amigos RV Park, there was hope in the air. We crawled around our belongings to emerge out the front, still functional doors of the cab, where so many friendly faces greeted us. Taking our first shower in days seemed to wash away many of our troubles and doubts. Clean and refreshed our friends Debra and John treated us to breakfast. Having gone to bed with no dinner, a hot breakfast and good company was building us up to deal with what had to come…making a decision about the Dolphin.

With the help of our friends we investigated and probed until the decision was made: we will breathe new life into the Dolphin. There are significant amounts of damage, but at the end of the day, the Dolphin is just made of plywood and sheet metal. If you have the time and energy to dedicate, which we do, the materials really aren’t that expensive. So the re-remodel moves forward while Jacqui and I do our best to stay positive.

I won’t lead you to believe every aspect of this project is smiles and positive attitudes. While we tear out entire walls, gut the interior we worked so hard to put together, and discover problems that were long hidden even before the crash, emotions definitely run high. It all seems so extremely overwhelming, and it’s hard to visualize this project ever coming to a conclusion. One moment Jacqui and I are working as a team, the next our frustrations with the project can leave us fed up with each other. We frequently have to take a breath and remember that it’s only a hiccup in the grand scheme of things. It’s humbling moments like this that remind us we are human. We fight, we love, we argue, we agree, we work, we play, but most importantly, in the end, we’re a team. We both know we’ll push through this small hurdle and love our trip even more. After all, the harder you work for something, the more rewarding it is in the end.

But all of the credit can’t be given to Jacqui and I. The rebuilding of the Dolphin wouldn’t be possible without the wonderful people we are surrounded with. I’ll leave out names, but I’d really like to share their actions.

Currently Jacqui and I are staying in a beautiful, giant RV parked directly on the beach at no cost to us. Honestly, it is larger than many apartments I’ve lived in. The couple who own this beauty had to fly home for an emergency, and even though they’ve only known us for a week, when learning of our situation, they offered us to stay here without hesitation. But even that wouldn’t be possible without our current next-door neighbors who were responsible for arranging everything. Despite having only known us for a week, they have gone above and beyond kindness to help us. They’ve connected us with skilled workers in the area, left groceries outside our door when we woke, treated us out to breakfast, arranged storage for our Dolphin and altogether have been amazing, supportive and wonderful people to be around. The ability to ever repay them is truly beyond our grasp.

The generosity certainly doesn’t end there. We’ve received gifts including a new shade canopy and a collapsible 50ft hose. One of our friends is a retired cabinetmaker who has an amazing amount of carpentry tools he’s made available for our use, and so many other people are giving in ways that aren’t tangible. Advice, lending a hand or even knowing there’s good conversation, when the last thing you want to think about is the project at hand, goes a long way. It’s times like these Jacqui and I are reminded that we never travel alone.

As it currently stands the Dolphin is very much in pieces, but soon we can start rebuilding the old girl stronger than ever. Tomorrow a welder is coming to reinforce some areas that we’ve decided were never strong enough from the beginning. Jacqui and I both hope to share some rebuild progress with you soon.

Destruction of the Dolphin

March 7, 2014 Cameron Belscher

On a beautiful sunny morning we lazily packed camp and prepared ourselves for the goodbyes to come. We were finally leaving Mazatlan to continue south, and that meant we were going to drive back to 3 Amigos RV park to give all the hugs and handshakes our new friends deserved.

We set out on the road later than intended, smiling. We were in no rush, simply driving as far as we desired for the day. It felt so good to be driving again, and it seemed like our Dolphin also loved getting to stretch her legs. As we stumbled upon a quaint little town to have some lunch, we lingered a bit to snap photos. We wandered around amazed at how many beautiful places there are in Mexico, we couldn’t have been in better moods. There was no way to know how quickly things could change.

We continued driving on the windy, narrow roads, loosely hoping we could make it to Tepic before nightfall. We were absorbing the beauty of the changing scenery when Jacqui pointed to the left to show me where people were pulling over to see the view. Riding high on all the positive energy of the day I made the quick decision to pull over and try to snap a photo. A quick glance forward showed no one coming so I committed to making the turn. As our Dolphin came around full swing a flash of red caught the corner of my eye. A car!

It was too late to veer back into the lane, brakes were useless since we were already turned with our side exposed. My eyes widened, staring straight, my hands tightened on the wheel, time began to slow and I mashed my foot into the accelerator with everything I had. We couldn’t stop, we couldn’t turn, but if we could just go a little faster we could clear before he came. Feet moved, time slowed, inches moved, time slowed. Suddenly the inside of the car and my ears erupted with Jacqui’s scream, her scream could mean only one thing, we weren’t moving fast enough! Time slowed, millimeters now. Jacqui’s scream of terror was replaced with an even more terror infused scream, the scream of tires. The other driver was doing all he could to stop. My eyes widened, I stared ahead so hard I could almost will the Dolphin to move faster.

Then came the sound and impact as the car collided with the Dolphin. The whole vehicle began to swing around then she pitched. We were still moving forward, I was still staring forward, but the view in front of me was twisting. Time was moving so slow all I could do was think, ‘it’s going over, it’s flipping over.’ Further and further the Dolphin leaned onto her left tires as the crunching continued and cabinets flew open behind spewing their contents. ‘It’s going over, it’s going…’ Time skipped a beat to make up for how slow it had been moving and we were stopped….upright.

I looked Jacqui in the eyes, “Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

Shifter thrown in park and e-brake pulled I rushed out to check on the other car. Three people were standing outside; two men and a boy no more than ten years old. The only Spanish word to flood my mind spilled out, “Enfermo, enfermo…. Are you enfermo?”’

They were alright, everyone was alright. Slamming on the gas trying to get clear of the accident had caused their car to run into the soft, sheet metal and plywood rear of the Dolphin. In fact, they hit the perfect spot, if such a term could be justly used while describing an accident. Any further back the Dolphin would be so soft she’d shear in half, and a pinch farther forward only exposed the gas tanks, in front of that the propane tank, then finally in front of that the most precious cargo of all...Jacqui. In the mad rush of duties and necessities that came after the crash, time skipped forward again.

The sky was already darkening and Jacqui was sitting on a stone ledge in front of a half dozen memorials erected on that very corner. As I approached her she looked up at me, her eyes were glistening with the tears that were so close to coming out. In that moment a rush of guilt filled me. This accident was my fault. I may have been visibly clear to turn, but we were too close to a blind corner for it to have been a good decision to do so. As I looked in her eyes she didn’t have to say anything for me to know the questions that were locked at the tip of her tongue, they were all over her face. Is the Dolphin done? Is our trip done?

I have little experience with body work on cars, but I’ve spent enough time working on vehicles professionally to know what I was looking at. The Dolphin is a marriage between a Toyota Pickup and a camper body built by National RV. The Toyota itself had no condemning damage; it would take little to repair. The rear axle had been slammed into and was misaligned, but the frame was unbent. However, the amount of damage the camper had sustained left our home, by definition, totaled. In other words, the cost of repairs would far exceed the value of the vehicle. The door was mangled and fell off when I tried to open it. The entry step was missing and a large section of the floor was buckled. The bathroom was all but leveled, the impact had dislodged my bolted down toolbox that became a sledgehammer as it sailed through the air. The right and left walls on either rear side of the RV were separating and bulging; ready to spill the contents within. Our poor Dolphin was a sad, sorry sight.

As I explained this to Jacqui we both agreed, no matter what the outcome of all this, we would not give up on our journey.

The police and an insurance adjuster came shortly. Everyone was kind, helpful and polite. Even the three others from the other car held no malice, and were far kinder than you’d expect anyone to be in their situation. When the tow truck came it was definitely a sight to see. The truck was not big enough to hold the Dolphin, but he loaded it on anyway with the front tires hanging off the back of the truck. If that wasn’t crazy enough, the other car was in tow behind with the three other people riding within. Only in Mexico was definitely ringing through our minds. That night we slept in the mechanics parking lot in the crippled remains of our Dolphin, with all our personal belongings littered around us. Our morale was low, but we were doing our best to keep our heads high. Very little sleep came to us that night.

All our belongings, including the door, piled in the living area with us.

When morning came we asked the mechanics to fix the suspension so our Dolphin would at least drive. After all, the work needed was more than I was going to be able to do alone. It was as we spent our day wandering Tepic that Jacqui and I discussed how lucky we are. We were safe. We were stranded in a beautiful warm place sipping coffee in our shorts and flip-flops. We had good friends and family everywhere who wouldn’t hesitate to help us. We realized, from the moment we began this journey, we may be the only two people in the Dolphin, but we’ve never been alone. On the road it would seem every other time I’d open the hood to check the oil someone would ask if I needed help. In Baja we had amazing friends who housed us, fed us, transported us, entertained us and helped us. And even now, we were a short drive from people we barely knew in Mazatlan, but they were already arranging, and doing everything they could to help us.

Discussing just how fortunate we are while we wait for the Dolphin.

The day wore on and the Dolphin was made road worthy. The three others from the crash came to us at the mechanic shop and asked if we could help them pay for bus fare home. They were out of money and thanks to me, car-less After realizing just how expensive bus fare was, we offered them the best thing we could…a ride to Mazatlan and money for the remainder of the bus ride.

With a giant length of rope we made two passes around the entire rear of the Dolphin to keep her from splitting open in the rear. The last thing we needed was for the water heater to fall out on the freeway. I took her for a quick test drive and was surprised that the old girl felt the same as she always had. No noises, no rattles, and she even drove straight as an arrow despite the steering wheel being a bit off center. (Nothing a simple alignment can’t fix.)

Tying our Dolphin to keep her together for the drive

So we loaded up our belongings, our passenger’s belongings, and all people in question to make the slow trek back to Mazatlan. You really have to hand it to our new Mexican friends for their bravery. They loaded into the back of a car with a person they’d been in a car accident with, and joked, conversed or slept the whole ride there. When we finally dropped them off, they shook our hands, exchanged contact information and asked us to call them if we were ever in their hometowns to say hi.

When at last we pulled into 3 Amigos trailer park late that night, we felt as if we pulled into the safety of home. Sleeping in the ruin of our Dolphin came easier that night.

Decisions are in the works, another post coming soon.

To be continued…