We’ve spent four nights in this cozy little anchorage, joined after the first day by Ed and Cornelia of ‘A Cappella,’ Jim and Susan of ‘Windward Bound,’ Sam and Susie (with their 6-year-old grandson, Hunter) on ‘Catch the Wind,’ and Chuck and Joan of ‘Tender Spirit.’ On the morning of the 22nd we took a hike up a road to the south that terminated at the top of a hill with what appeared to be a series of lots for potential homes. At the present time three homes have been built, that have a fantastic view of San Juanico Bay and the Sea of Cortez, but these are far from the luxury homes they appear to be from a distance. They have the look of homes on the bad side of a small town. We understand it is 9 miles by dirt road to the nearest highway, and there are no stores whatsoever. It appears that someone had a grand idea to build scenic homes without considering the infrastructure needed to support those who might live there.
As we reached the top of the hill we could look out over San Juanico Bay, where we noticed ‘Catch the Wind’ anchored alone in the nearest cove. We heard on the morning net that they had been alone in San Juanico Bay for a couple of days and had been dealing with a strong southeast wind every afternoon that made it uncomfortable. We had taken our handheld VHF radio with us to the top of the hill and we used the line of sight capability to contact Sam and invite him over to our cove to avoid the strong winds. Sam, Susie, and Hunter were only too glad to move to the better cove and actually have some company. That afternoon we had them over to play Mexican Train Dominoes on our boat with coke and popcorn. We had a very enjoyable game and were impressed with Hunter’s ability to play the game. He is probably one of the most engaging 6-year-old boys we have ever met, and very mentally sharp.
The next day I decided it was time to go spear fishing again, but I had strict instructions from Sheilagh not to bring home another “triggerfish,” with its very tough skin. I was out for about an hour and finally got close enough to, and speared, what turned out to be a “spadefish.” Alas, the spadefish had the same tough skin. After hacking at it for awhile, Sheilagh got very little “meat” off one side, and we decided to give it a traditional, at-sea burial over the side. Both the triggerfish and the spadefish are relatively thin fish with height (viewed in profile) about equal to its length. Now I have instructions from Sheilagh to spear only fish that are quite a bit longer than their diameter and big enough to provide sufficient “meat” to be worth the cleaning and carving effort. I have noticed that the larger the fish, the older and wiser they are, and the longer the fish, the faster and more elusive they are. It’s going to be a real challenge to get close enough and be quick enough to catch wise and fast fish; so the fish population is probably safe at the present time.
That evening we had a dinghy raft up with the occupants of the five boats mentioned in the first paragraph, where we shared appetizers and brought our own drinks. We met in the dinghies because there’s no convenient place on shore to meet, and there were too many participants to fit on any one boat. We just linked all the dinghies together at the bow (with an anchor holding one of the dinghies to the bottom) and passed around the food, along with some magazines and paperback novels. We got to know one another a bit better, and shared our unique experiences to date. ‘Tender Spirit’ was heading north the next day, and ‘Catch the Wind’ was heading south to put their grandson on a plane in Cabo San Lucas to head home.
That night we were on deck with none of our lights on, when Sheilagh pointed out that there appeared to be ghosts gliding through the water next to our boat. It turns out that several schools of fish were gliding around our boat, and their phosphorescence caused them to look like x-ray images in the water. I expected all the fish to be swimming smoothly together, but at least half of them would suddenly split off and dart in a different direction at odd times. It looked to me as if the motion of the fish was similar to the motion of molecules in a boiling pot of water, although I can’t remember ever having seen a molecule in that situation. Then we noticed a flash of light in the east, and noted that lightning was showing up every so often – probably on the mainland side of the Sea of Cortez. We could use the rain they are getting there, but we’d prefer to avoid the lightning.
We stayed a couple of days in this little cove, with two additional boats, ‘Juniata’ with Dave and Marsha, and ‘Pacific Voyager’ with Barry and Pat, along with ‘A Cappella’ and ‘Windward Bound.’ This naturally required another raft up on the evening before we all decided to head north. In this case, the three boats who had participated in the last raft up decided to bring something a little more filling than chips and dip. On this occasion, in addition to the chips and dip from the two new boats, we had spicy chicken wings (our contribution), arrachera strips en brochette (from ‘Windward Bound’), and empanadas (from A Cappella). On this occasion the conversation became so involved that our “anchored” set of dinghies had drifted quite a ways away from the beach and out toward the mouth of the cove before Sheilagh noted the problem. This was Sheilagh’s and my first exposure to a dragging anchor, and the only way you know is to observe the motion of the boat against the shore. We disengaged before being blown out to sea, and each couple returned to its boat to prepare for the early departure on the next day.
I got out my hookah breathing apparatus earlier in the day to take a look at the bottom and clean it a bit. I noticed that there was seaweed caught around our kelp cutter, which shouldn’t have been there. The kelp cutter is a ring of small blades attached to the propeller shaft in front of the propeller that spins with the shaft and cuts anything that could tangle in the prop. In this case the blade was spinning freely and doing no good as a seaweed cutter. I got an underwater flashlight handed down to me from Sheilagh (who serves as my support crew on the boat) and went back down to see what kind of attachment there was supposed to be between the blade and the prop shaft. After determining that the screwdriver I needed was a regular flat-bladed type, got one from Sheilagh and went back to tighten the screw. As I pressed down on the screw head it completely dissolved into fine granules of powder – apparently the boatyard had failed to use a stainless steel screw.
We tried a couple of replacement screws, but finding the correct length, width, and pitch of a screw without any knowledge of what was there before, and doing this under water with a very sharp blade next to the screw hole, using divers’ gloves, a flashlight, a screwdriver, and not enough hands was next to impossible. So, until we pull the boat out of the water, we have to assume that our $600 kelp cutter will be useless to us for awhile. I finished up cleaning the boat bottom and checking the zincs to make sure they didn’t need replacement, and we were good to go for another couple of weeks.
Tomorrow we take off for Conception Bay, which is about a 10-hour trip up the coast. The other four boats in this anchorage will be heading up with us and all of us plan to leave at 6AM. This should give us just barely enough light to get going, and it will help us miss the late afternoon strong winds that have been building up every day. Hopefully we will have moderate winds and a flat sea to make the trip an enjoyable one. More later . . .
Friday, June 27, 2008
June 22nd – Ramada Cove near San Juanico – Jim’s Blog #53
Yesterday was the Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year, and we are currently nestled in a small cove on the eastern side of the Baja Peninsula. This is a cozy little bay situated just north of the larger San Juanico Bay where most cruisers stop on their way up the coast. San Juanico Bay faces southeast and protects boats from the north wind, but we are blessed with southeast winds and Ramada Cove offers protection from that direction. There is room for about 5 or 6 boats here, and there were four when we arrived. We had to squeeze in on the edge, but got out of the wind and swells that had followed us north.
On the 19th we had left Puerto Escondido and made our way to the north end of a neighboring island called Isla Carmen. We joined ‘A Cappella’ in a very small cove named Vee Cove, apparently named for the small cut in the shore resembling that letter of the alphabet. Without our cruising guides we might never have seen the cut in the shore. Even with the guide and a GPS location we had difficulty finding it. We finally saw A Cappella’s mast seeming to stick up above a rock, which signaled the location of the cove. Two additional boats were there as well; so we were anchored fairly close to one another.
After we dropped the anchor, we had our celebratory cervezas and then set out in our dinghy (with Ed and Cornelia in theirs) to explore some shallow caves along the shore. We could get our dinghies about 30 feet inside and just barely had room to turn around. In the shadowy depths within the caves we saw hundreds of foot-long Rainbow Runners swirling around in two separate balls. Rainbow Runners are supposedly tasty fish that are a pale white in color with two light blue stripes along each side of the body with a light orange stripe between them. It’s a beautiful fish that blends well with a sandy bottom, but were very visible in the shadowy caves. If I had taken my spear with me, I could have just thrust it into the middle of a ball of fish like that and had some fish for dinner.
As it was, we did some snorkeling and then returned to the boat to prepare for dinner on ‘A Cappella’ with Ed and Cornelia. Preparing for dinner means taking a fresh water shower standing on the side deck of the boat using our fresh water hose (with hot and cold water). We use some bio-degradable shampoo and soap and rinse into the scuppers that flow into the water beside the boat. We maintain decorum by washing our swimming suits as we wash ourselves, toweling off everything, and then going below to finish the job. When we are alone in an anchorage, we can dispense with the decorum, although our children would call this TMI (Too Much Information).
The next day we set sail for another island, Los Coronados (“The Crowns”), which is what a lot of the islands are called since they were formed by volcanoes and have the look of a crown from a distance. We got there fairly early, traveling with ‘A Cappella,’ dropped the hook, and stayed below in the cabin to avoid the hot sun most of the afternoon. We were awakened at 5AM by a horrible smell of dead fish and bird shit that permeated the cabin; so we immediately closed all the hatches, sprayed the boat with air freshener, turned on the fans, and made some hot chocolate to save our olfactory sensors. By 8AM the wind had changed and the smell was gone.
The next morning we went looking for Chocolate (cho-ko-la’-tay) Clams that were supposed to be fairly thick on a neighboring beach. When we got there we saw dozens, if not hundreds, of dead squid lying on the beach and floating next to the shore. These were about a foot long and four inches in diameter and the stench was overpowering. There were a few sea gulls gorging on the feast. We immediately backed away from the beach and tried another beach that was free of the dead Squid. We were told that the clams stick two small feelers out of the sand in about six feet of water that show as holes about a half inch apart. It is necessary to dive down, dig a wide knife to the side of the holes about 2 or 3 inches away and scoop it across the holes about 4 inches deep to dig the clams out.
The only holes I noticed while floating on the surface were about an inch apart. I dove down with a wide spatula in my right hand, scooped under the holes and prepared to grab the clam in my left hand. Imagine my surprise when a small stingray (a foot long from nose to tail and 5 inches wide at the head) glided out of the sandy cloud I had created. I was startled enough not to grab the sting ray, and it didn’t seem too offended. I tried clamming a few more times and uncovered two more stingrays and several scoops of sand. We are told that stingrays are prevalent here in Mexico and that we should never walk along a beach or in the shallow water without shuffling our feet to alert the stingrays, which can produce a very painful sting with their tails if stepped on. Until my clamming expedition I had no idea of how well a stingray could stay hidden beneath the sand – I am now a believer in shuffling my feet when walking on the beach.
The horrible smell of that morning convinced us not to stay there another night; so we headed north to San Juanico that afternoon, while ‘A Cappella’ went south to the town of Loreto to do some provisioning. It looked like it was going to be a great sailing day, but the two-foot chop was right on our beam and caused our boat to rock sideways in a very uncomfortable manner. We raised our main sail to give us some stability and had to zigzag up our course line to stay out of the troughs. We passed a fleet of fishing boats that were anchored off the coast, and later learned that these were engaged in fishing for squid at night with very bright lights and spending the days at anchor cleaning the catch. Apparently there are so many squid in the area that they die from overpopulation due to a lack of available food; so the fishing boats are helping to alleviate the situation.
As we approached San Juanico, we could see that the bay would not protect us from the wind and waves; so we rounded the northern corner and came into Ramada Cove that furnished great protection from the southeast. This is not the sort of protection we would need from a hurricane, but the daily weather reports show no disturbances building up to the south of us. So far there has been just one named storm early in June, far to the south, that quickly dissipated. We are currently about a day and a half away from a hurricane hole in the event of a named storm, and historically we should have about 5 days to get to a good location, strip the boat of sails and anything else that could blow away, and set anchors and lines to prepare for a big blow. You can believe that all the cruisers in the Sea of Cortez are keeping a wary eye out for any inkling of a storm that could develop into a hurricane. More later . . .
On the 19th we had left Puerto Escondido and made our way to the north end of a neighboring island called Isla Carmen. We joined ‘A Cappella’ in a very small cove named Vee Cove, apparently named for the small cut in the shore resembling that letter of the alphabet. Without our cruising guides we might never have seen the cut in the shore. Even with the guide and a GPS location we had difficulty finding it. We finally saw A Cappella’s mast seeming to stick up above a rock, which signaled the location of the cove. Two additional boats were there as well; so we were anchored fairly close to one another.
After we dropped the anchor, we had our celebratory cervezas and then set out in our dinghy (with Ed and Cornelia in theirs) to explore some shallow caves along the shore. We could get our dinghies about 30 feet inside and just barely had room to turn around. In the shadowy depths within the caves we saw hundreds of foot-long Rainbow Runners swirling around in two separate balls. Rainbow Runners are supposedly tasty fish that are a pale white in color with two light blue stripes along each side of the body with a light orange stripe between them. It’s a beautiful fish that blends well with a sandy bottom, but were very visible in the shadowy caves. If I had taken my spear with me, I could have just thrust it into the middle of a ball of fish like that and had some fish for dinner.
As it was, we did some snorkeling and then returned to the boat to prepare for dinner on ‘A Cappella’ with Ed and Cornelia. Preparing for dinner means taking a fresh water shower standing on the side deck of the boat using our fresh water hose (with hot and cold water). We use some bio-degradable shampoo and soap and rinse into the scuppers that flow into the water beside the boat. We maintain decorum by washing our swimming suits as we wash ourselves, toweling off everything, and then going below to finish the job. When we are alone in an anchorage, we can dispense with the decorum, although our children would call this TMI (Too Much Information).
The next day we set sail for another island, Los Coronados (“The Crowns”), which is what a lot of the islands are called since they were formed by volcanoes and have the look of a crown from a distance. We got there fairly early, traveling with ‘A Cappella,’ dropped the hook, and stayed below in the cabin to avoid the hot sun most of the afternoon. We were awakened at 5AM by a horrible smell of dead fish and bird shit that permeated the cabin; so we immediately closed all the hatches, sprayed the boat with air freshener, turned on the fans, and made some hot chocolate to save our olfactory sensors. By 8AM the wind had changed and the smell was gone.
The next morning we went looking for Chocolate (cho-ko-la’-tay) Clams that were supposed to be fairly thick on a neighboring beach. When we got there we saw dozens, if not hundreds, of dead squid lying on the beach and floating next to the shore. These were about a foot long and four inches in diameter and the stench was overpowering. There were a few sea gulls gorging on the feast. We immediately backed away from the beach and tried another beach that was free of the dead Squid. We were told that the clams stick two small feelers out of the sand in about six feet of water that show as holes about a half inch apart. It is necessary to dive down, dig a wide knife to the side of the holes about 2 or 3 inches away and scoop it across the holes about 4 inches deep to dig the clams out.
The only holes I noticed while floating on the surface were about an inch apart. I dove down with a wide spatula in my right hand, scooped under the holes and prepared to grab the clam in my left hand. Imagine my surprise when a small stingray (a foot long from nose to tail and 5 inches wide at the head) glided out of the sandy cloud I had created. I was startled enough not to grab the sting ray, and it didn’t seem too offended. I tried clamming a few more times and uncovered two more stingrays and several scoops of sand. We are told that stingrays are prevalent here in Mexico and that we should never walk along a beach or in the shallow water without shuffling our feet to alert the stingrays, which can produce a very painful sting with their tails if stepped on. Until my clamming expedition I had no idea of how well a stingray could stay hidden beneath the sand – I am now a believer in shuffling my feet when walking on the beach.
The horrible smell of that morning convinced us not to stay there another night; so we headed north to San Juanico that afternoon, while ‘A Cappella’ went south to the town of Loreto to do some provisioning. It looked like it was going to be a great sailing day, but the two-foot chop was right on our beam and caused our boat to rock sideways in a very uncomfortable manner. We raised our main sail to give us some stability and had to zigzag up our course line to stay out of the troughs. We passed a fleet of fishing boats that were anchored off the coast, and later learned that these were engaged in fishing for squid at night with very bright lights and spending the days at anchor cleaning the catch. Apparently there are so many squid in the area that they die from overpopulation due to a lack of available food; so the fishing boats are helping to alleviate the situation.
As we approached San Juanico, we could see that the bay would not protect us from the wind and waves; so we rounded the northern corner and came into Ramada Cove that furnished great protection from the southeast. This is not the sort of protection we would need from a hurricane, but the daily weather reports show no disturbances building up to the south of us. So far there has been just one named storm early in June, far to the south, that quickly dissipated. We are currently about a day and a half away from a hurricane hole in the event of a named storm, and historically we should have about 5 days to get to a good location, strip the boat of sails and anything else that could blow away, and set anchors and lines to prepare for a big blow. You can believe that all the cruisers in the Sea of Cortez are keeping a wary eye out for any inkling of a storm that could develop into a hurricane. More later . . .
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
June 18th – Puerto Escondido – Jim’s Blog #52
We’re still in Puerto Escondido, and making every effort to stay cool and relaxed. We put up our boat canopies on the forward and aft ends of the boat; so we look like a Conestoga wagon sitting up to our wheels in the water. These shades keep the sun off the deck of the boat and funnel the breezes directly into our hatches. The only difficulty with these shades is the need to bend over a bit as we walk along the decks. We’ve mounted Sheilagh’s hammock under the forward canopy and she has spent a considerable amount of time reading up there, with a cold beverage beside her on the deck.The closest town is Loreto (about 17 miles up the road), and the principal way to get there from here is to rent a taxi to get in and have the cabbie come back later in the day to give a ride back ($80 round trip). We went to Loreto in a taxi with Jim and Susan of ‘Windward Bound’ on Monday where we walked the downtown area, saw the Mission of Nuestra Señora de Loreto, and enjoyed the main street with its espaliered trees from each side of the street forming arches overhead.
We signed the guest book in the tourist office and noted that the previous couple who signed in was from Walla Walla, Washington – you just can’t get away from the home town. We didn’t notice any gringos nearby in order to introduce ourselves, but it’s unlikely we would have known each other, since I stopped living in Walla Walla some 48 years ago, and only went back for short visits for about 10 years after that. I understand it has transformed itself into a wine growing region, but I remember it as the place I learned to pick strawberries on my knees in June every year, sack Walla Walla onions in 50 lb. sacks (running them into railroad cars in hand trucks of 6 bags each – 300 lbs.), and flash-freeze peas in the local Birds Eye plant. My work experiences there motivated me to keep my grades up in school and visualize a desk job as a preferred method for earning a living. Thank you, Walla Walla, for that impetus to my career aspirations.
We decided to get more involved with local social events, so we joined a group of locals and cruisers for an afternoon of Minnesota Canasta, where we learned how the Minnesotans spend their long winter days when it’s too cold to go out. Sheilagh and I both had some early luck, but the “old hands” at the game kicked our butts overall. We later joined the group for the Mexican Train dominoes game on another afternoon, and also got our butts kicked there. I have been told by others that I am way too competitive generally, so my goal in these games is not to win, but to enjoy meeting and talking to a variety of people whom I would not meet otherwise. So far it is working well – I am not winning and I really don’t care. The older women, who are the main participants, remind me of my mother and her dedication to card games, although they are far less competitive than I remember her to be.
I manage to get out on the kayak every couple of days, and have taken the time to circle the entire bay to assess where it would be best to moor our boat in the event of a hurricane. I found a little pocket in the bay that has mangroves along the edges; so in the unlikely event that we broke loose from our mooring in the middle of a hurricane, the boat would be blown into the trees rather than the rocks. The bay was formed by a volcano with an entryway and a couple of windows to the sea where the sides have collapsed. The terrain is pure desert with rocks, cactus, caves, and brush everywhere. The more distant sides of the Sea of Cortez stand taller behind the volcano we are in and look quite majestic in the way the Grand Canyon does.We had put 100 hours on the engine since our last oil change; so it was time to do another one. We got everything out and hooked up to pump the oil out of the engine. As we pushed the plunger on the pump, we got no suction but did manage to get some oil all over us as we tried a number of ways to get the thing to work. The pump is a plastic one and we think the disc on the inside that slides back and forth may have shrunk in the hot, dry climate we have had lately. We put everything away that day and borrowed a metal pump from another cruiser, which worked flawlessly the next day. It took us only 20 minutes to do the whole job and we stayed remarkably clean. Sheilagh also changed the two fuel filters while I was taking a nap, along with the zinc in the engine (that prevents the metal in the engine from breaking down. Sheilagh considers the engine a much better way to travel than the use of the sails (which causes the boat to tip too much in her estimate); so she makes sure it is in excellent condition at all times.
The days are getting hot and humid and we are combating it by doing as little work as possible these days. We try to get our exercise in the mornings and do other tasks at that time as well. We bought a couple of small fans that plug into DC outlets in the cabin and can be clipped with a big alligator clip to any surface edge. These keep the air circulating in the cabin, and, combined with the canopies over the boat, they keep us relatively cool. We can also step off the side of the boat into 72° water and later rinse off in fresh water with a cockpit hose and shower nozzle on the side of the boat. Naturally the cold drinks we have in the cockpit in the evenings with the ice we made that day are also very refreshing.
Today we walked to the local hotel with internet service to finish up some communications with the outside world before being out of touch for the next few days. On our way up the dusty road, Sheilagh jerked back from a squashed rattlesnake lying to one side of the road. It was a rather small one, but we couldn’t help but gaze up into the hills and wonder how many others might be up there. At least this one had rattles; so it could give a warning if it were alive and we were getting too close. We learned that a new species of rattlesnake, without rattles, was discovered years ago on the local Isla de Catalina. Apparently that species sheds its entire skin without retaining the tail – that ultimately becomes a rattle when enough skins have been shed. So what could be worse than a rattlesnake that doesn’t announce itself? Needless to say, Sheilagh and I will not be visiting the Isla de Catalina.
Lately we started the mini-series, ‘The Winds of War,’ with Robert Mitchum, Ali MacGraw, Jan-Michael Vincent, and Polly Bergen. This series covers the two years leading up to the bombing of Pearl Harbor that started the U.S. involvement in the Second World War. Neither of us can figure out how Ali MacGraw ever became an actress, since we have yet to see any acting ability on her part. What is intriguing for me is the reluctance of the congress at that time to see, or want to meet, the threat of Hitler and the Nazi threat despite the fact that Hitler had invaded and conquered nearly every country in Europe and was on the point of defeating the Soviet Union. Apparently we thought we were protected by the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans and didn’t think we should have any involvement in the rest of the world. Sheilagh has forbidden me to get political in this blog, but I leave it to the reader to determine whether there isn’t a strong parallel between Nazism and Islamic Fundamentalism. All I can say is “those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.”
Tomorrow we will be leaving Puerto Escondido for an anchorage on a neighboring island. We will update the blog in a few days when we get back to civilization. More later . . .
June 15th – Candelaros Cove/Puerto Escondido – Jim’s Blog #51
We left Agua Verde for a three-hour sail north to Candeleros Cove as we venture further up the inside coast of Baja California. The wind was light and coming from behind us; so we had an enjoyable sail with a little use of the motor when the wind died near the end of the trip. This put us about two hours away from an internet location at Puerto Escondido, but we decided to spend a couple of nights in this nicely protected cove.
I took out my kayak the other day and Sheilagh snapped a picture of your intrepid cruiser (see photo nearby). Perhaps you can see the increased shoulder development from all the paddling I’ve been doing! I usually strap a water bottle in back of the kayak, wear gloves to keep down the blisters, carry my IPod in a Ziploc bag in a pouch around my neck, and turn on some good music to keep me company. On this occasion it was Roy Orbison who kept me company. I circled the entire cove and found the beach to be very shallow out to at least 20 yards, which makes it difficult to land a dinghy close to the dry edge of the beach. This shallow beach will make the cove a great one for children playing in the water someday. We noticed a palapa-like hotel on a hill on the beach, and learned later that this entire cove is destined to be “condominium-ized” in the near future completely around the cove. I’m glad we could see it before it gets fully developed.
Cruisers nearby found a spot in the cove where they were told clams were living under water about 8’ down. They found the place and dove down looking for two breathing tubes about a half-inch apart coming out of the sandy bottom. They then stuck a knife into the sand beside each clam and dug it out before it could escape down deeper. Apparently they could only grab one clam with each dive because they only had on snorkel equipment, but they came up with some 18 clams apiece. We learned this story later after we had left the cove, but we know where to go on our return.
We stayed a couple of nights at Candeleros and then made our way to Puerto Escondido, which is the largest natural marina in Mexico, and serves as a Hurricane Hole for all the cruisers within a two-day sail from the surrounding islands. This is a Mexican-government-developed port, where the mooring balls were originally installed improperly and broke loose in the first heavy storm a few years ago. The mooring balls have been properly set up now (we are told), but the government charges very high rates to moor here. There are over 100 mooring balls in the entire bay, with only about 7 boats moored there, including ours. Other cruisers refuse to pay the high rates and anchor just outside the bay, ready to hustle in and grab a mooring in the case of a hurricane. We decided to get the weekly rate, which covered 7 nights for the price of 4 nights ($10 a night), and which gives us access to a laundry, the internet, and a Jacuzzi.
That’s about the limit of the amenities here. There isn’t even a coke machine on the premises, and when two separate cruisers showed up to do their laundry, the maintenance man had to run a haphazard extension cord to power more than one of the four washers and one of the three dryers. The extension cord was wrapped with electrical tape and the plugs for each washer had to be positioned just right to keep the current flowing. We had to sit and watch the connections to make sure they didn’t blow a fuse or stop working. The Jacuzzi has to have the jets activated by the maintenance man, too, and he has to return every 25 minutes to activate it again. I doubt that this latter problem will be solved, because he seems to enjoy observing the ladies each time he comes around.
We decided to get more involved with local social events, so we joined a group of locals and cruisers for an afternoon of Minnesota Canasta, where we learned how the Minnesotans spend their long winter days when it’s too cold to go out. Sheilagh and I both had some early luck, but the “old hands” at the game kicked our butts overall. We later joined the group for the dominoes game, Mexican Train, on another afternoon, and also got our butts kicked there. I’ve been told by others that I am way too competitive generally, so my goal in these games is not to win, but to enjoy meeting and talking to a variety of people whom I would not meet otherwise. So far it is working well – I’m not winning and I really don’t care. The older women, who are the main participants, remind me of my mother and her dedication to card games, although they are far less competitive than I remember her to be.
On Sunday morning, Fathers’ Day, we cruisers and locals had a potluck brunch in the marina, and we met a number of people who are living locally in a small town called Juncalito (pronounced “hoon-ka-li’-to”). These folks do not have electricity in the town, but that isn’t a problem for them. Since most of them are former cruisers, they set up their homes as if they were boats. They have 12 volt systems for lights and radios (for communication),that are driven off a series of batteries and charged by solar panels. They use an inverter or generators to power a few 110 volt appliances, such as washers and dryers. They use propane to power freezers and refrigerators, although air conditioning takes too much electricity to be run for any length of time. Some of the homeowners move back to the U.S. during the heat of the summer to stay comfortable. They use a septic field for waste, although I’m not sure how effective it is in the desert here. It’s an interesting life style for folks who want to simplify their lives.
We are going through books very quickly and finding hundreds available in paperback form in book exchanges at every marina, and we also do some trading with other cruisers. Dedicated as I am to becoming a black belt in Sudoku, I don’t read as much as Sheilagh does. Instead I spend hours timing myself on the more difficult Sudoku puzzles, and am getting to the point where it is simply a matter of “how long to solve it” rather than “if I can solve it.” Sheilagh doesn’t see the value of this single-minded commitment to becoming a Sudoku Master, but I maintain that 1) it’s keeping my mind sharper than it might otherwise be, 2) I’m not hurting anyone, and 3) America might need this skill in the future to thwart the enemies of democracy. Sheilagh thinks the third argument indicates that the first argument isn’t working, and the second argument may no longer be true if I include myself. Oh, well, a prophet and master is never appreciated in his own family or his own country! More later . . .
I took out my kayak the other day and Sheilagh snapped a picture of your intrepid cruiser (see photo nearby). Perhaps you can see the increased shoulder development from all the paddling I’ve been doing! I usually strap a water bottle in back of the kayak, wear gloves to keep down the blisters, carry my IPod in a Ziploc bag in a pouch around my neck, and turn on some good music to keep me company. On this occasion it was Roy Orbison who kept me company. I circled the entire cove and found the beach to be very shallow out to at least 20 yards, which makes it difficult to land a dinghy close to the dry edge of the beach. This shallow beach will make the cove a great one for children playing in the water someday. We noticed a palapa-like hotel on a hill on the beach, and learned later that this entire cove is destined to be “condominium-ized” in the near future completely around the cove. I’m glad we could see it before it gets fully developed.Cruisers nearby found a spot in the cove where they were told clams were living under water about 8’ down. They found the place and dove down looking for two breathing tubes about a half-inch apart coming out of the sandy bottom. They then stuck a knife into the sand beside each clam and dug it out before it could escape down deeper. Apparently they could only grab one clam with each dive because they only had on snorkel equipment, but they came up with some 18 clams apiece. We learned this story later after we had left the cove, but we know where to go on our return.
We stayed a couple of nights at Candeleros and then made our way to Puerto Escondido, which is the largest natural marina in Mexico, and serves as a Hurricane Hole for all the cruisers within a two-day sail from the surrounding islands. This is a Mexican-government-developed port, where the mooring balls were originally installed improperly and broke loose in the first heavy storm a few years ago. The mooring balls have been properly set up now (we are told), but the government charges very high rates to moor here. There are over 100 mooring balls in the entire bay, with only about 7 boats moored there, including ours. Other cruisers refuse to pay the high rates and anchor just outside the bay, ready to hustle in and grab a mooring in the case of a hurricane. We decided to get the weekly rate, which covered 7 nights for the price of 4 nights ($10 a night), and which gives us access to a laundry, the internet, and a Jacuzzi.
That’s about the limit of the amenities here. There isn’t even a coke machine on the premises, and when two separate cruisers showed up to do their laundry, the maintenance man had to run a haphazard extension cord to power more than one of the four washers and one of the three dryers. The extension cord was wrapped with electrical tape and the plugs for each washer had to be positioned just right to keep the current flowing. We had to sit and watch the connections to make sure they didn’t blow a fuse or stop working. The Jacuzzi has to have the jets activated by the maintenance man, too, and he has to return every 25 minutes to activate it again. I doubt that this latter problem will be solved, because he seems to enjoy observing the ladies each time he comes around.
We decided to get more involved with local social events, so we joined a group of locals and cruisers for an afternoon of Minnesota Canasta, where we learned how the Minnesotans spend their long winter days when it’s too cold to go out. Sheilagh and I both had some early luck, but the “old hands” at the game kicked our butts overall. We later joined the group for the dominoes game, Mexican Train, on another afternoon, and also got our butts kicked there. I’ve been told by others that I am way too competitive generally, so my goal in these games is not to win, but to enjoy meeting and talking to a variety of people whom I would not meet otherwise. So far it is working well – I’m not winning and I really don’t care. The older women, who are the main participants, remind me of my mother and her dedication to card games, although they are far less competitive than I remember her to be.
On Sunday morning, Fathers’ Day, we cruisers and locals had a potluck brunch in the marina, and we met a number of people who are living locally in a small town called Juncalito (pronounced “hoon-ka-li’-to”). These folks do not have electricity in the town, but that isn’t a problem for them. Since most of them are former cruisers, they set up their homes as if they were boats. They have 12 volt systems for lights and radios (for communication),that are driven off a series of batteries and charged by solar panels. They use an inverter or generators to power a few 110 volt appliances, such as washers and dryers. They use propane to power freezers and refrigerators, although air conditioning takes too much electricity to be run for any length of time. Some of the homeowners move back to the U.S. during the heat of the summer to stay comfortable. They use a septic field for waste, although I’m not sure how effective it is in the desert here. It’s an interesting life style for folks who want to simplify their lives.
We are going through books very quickly and finding hundreds available in paperback form in book exchanges at every marina, and we also do some trading with other cruisers. Dedicated as I am to becoming a black belt in Sudoku, I don’t read as much as Sheilagh does. Instead I spend hours timing myself on the more difficult Sudoku puzzles, and am getting to the point where it is simply a matter of “how long to solve it” rather than “if I can solve it.” Sheilagh doesn’t see the value of this single-minded commitment to becoming a Sudoku Master, but I maintain that 1) it’s keeping my mind sharper than it might otherwise be, 2) I’m not hurting anyone, and 3) America might need this skill in the future to thwart the enemies of democracy. Sheilagh thinks the third argument indicates that the first argument isn’t working, and the second argument may no longer be true if I include myself. Oh, well, a prophet and master is never appreciated in his own family or his own country! More later . . .
Thursday, June 12, 2008
June 10th – Agua Verde – Jim’s Blog #50
It’s hard to believe, but this is my fiftieth blog since last November. How can there be anything left to say? Well, there always seems to be, especially when every time we set sail we arrive at a different location. We arrived in Agua Verde yesterday evening after motor-sailing for about nine hours. During the first three hours we had the south wind that was predicted, as we sailed between Isla San Jose and the Eastern side of the Baja peninsula. The experience was similar to one I had on a raft trip on the Green River in the Grand Canyon. We were surrounded by stratified hills on both sides that narrowed at the north until Isla San Jose ended on the right side, opening us up to the full width of the Sea of Cortez. There was a 1-knot current flowing in our direction, which was similar to the flowing of a wide river.
We know the Grand Canyon was created by erosion, and that must have been the case here. What was strange is that most of the ridges approaching the water were cut off vertically, as if someone had been dynamiting to create a road along the Sea of Cortez. This reminded me of the glacier activity I observed in Yosemite National Park (who can forget Half Dome?). Could there have been glacier activity down here? Also, the look of the cliff-like hills on the east side of the Baja peninsula remind me of the Columbia River gorge. I’m not in an internet location where I can research that at the moment. If someone has some information on the formation of the Sea of Cortez I would enjoy hearing it.
This reminds me that we aren’t getting a lot of comments from our readers except when Sheilagh delivers one of her occasional blogs. She seems to have a lot of females agreeing with her take on the cruising life. We publish most of the comments people send in; so feel free to do so. Naturally we have to edit them to eliminate foul language, curses, and anything I don’t agree with. Not!
After passing Isla San Jose, we encountered East winds for the next three hours that allowed us to sail even faster than we did going downwind – it’s called a beam reach and is the fastest point of sailing. Sadly, the wind died after three hours and we ended up motoring the last three hours. All in all, we saved a lot of diesel fuel and got to this very enjoyable anchorage under good conditions. Normally we could expect north winds that would have fought us all the way, which is why we decided to go for the full nine hours rather than stop in a bay along the way. From here on up, the stops are closer together and there are more really enjoyable anchorages.
Agua Verde is a fairly large bay with three lobes where boats can anchor safely with protection from the winds and seas. There were about seven boats in each of the three lobes, and we picked a good spot in the westernmost of the three lobes along a high bluff that should protect us from nearly any strong wind. We had rocked a lot at night in Isla San Francisco; so in Agua Verde we dug out our “flopper stopper” (a device we hang from our whisker pole at the side of the boat to keep it steadier in a rocking sea). It did a great job for us in preventing our rolling sideways during our stay here.
We installed Sirius Radio on our boat; so we can get all kinds of programming by way of satellite. We are able to catch all the news of the election process as well as talk radio, both liberal and conservative. We have a set of speakers in the cabin and another set in the cockpit; so we can direct the output to either location or to both locations. When Sheilagh wants some quiet and I want some music, news or talk, we simply direct it to my location (usually in the cockpit) and she retires to the cabin. Periodically we both listen to our IPods (actually Sheilagh has a Palm Pilot with the same capability) together, each of us with separate audio books we are “reading.”
Agua Verde is both a fishing village and a goat-raising locale. There are goats throughout the scraggly hills and we often hear the sound of a goat bell clanging as the lead goat is directing the group to another hill-side location. At 6PM the first night we watched two groups of goats amble down a steep grade on one of the hills nearby and up onto the hill on the other side of a spit of land on an equally steep path. We learned that these goats follow that path every evening and then return the next morning – and without any human intervention. I’m not sure what keeps the goats from wandering miles away, since I have yet to see a fence of any sort.
Naturally goat cheese (queso de cabra) is a good buy in the only tienda in town, as we found out on our first day here. We landed on a gravelly beach and walked a quarter of a mile on a dirt track to get some supplies. [I mention the gravelly beach because it’s more difficult to get the gravel out of one’s sandals after leaping out of the dinghy and hauling it up the beach. Sand flows right out of the sandals but not gravel.] The Tienda was not recognizable as a store except for a small sign that read “Tienda” over the door to a shack that had some shelves along the inside wall and a refrigerator turned on its side for a freezer. The vegetables and eggs were fresh, and we got a big chunk of goat cheese that turned out to be a bit rubbery. Slicing it thinly seemed to do the trick, but it is not the type that will melt onto a quesadilla.
That evening one of the cruisers suggested a get-together on the beach for all the cruisers in attendance in the bay, and we had about 12 couples gathered there at 5:30PM that evening. Getting together on the beach in the Sea of Cortez is a lot easier than doing it on the mainland, where the Pacific throws breaking waves at the beaches. Here the water gently laps the shore and there are no breakers at all to disrupt a dinghy landing or launch. Everyone brought his/her own beverages and an appetizer to share. We took deviled eggs, which were a big hit next to the 4 types of guacamole and chips that some of the others had brought. We met cruisers who had been at it nearly 10 years of full-time living on their boat, and others who were as new to it as we were. The talk usually centered on what lay ahead in terms of anchorages, winds, currents, and local events as we go further north into the Sea of Cortez.
Back at the boat, after the happy hour on the beach, we were visited by 6 kids in a panga with an adult doing the driving. They were asking for candy or soda in English (apparently practicing their language skills). We gave 3 cokes to split between the 6 kids and passed along a cerveza for the driver to encourage their foreign language skills. We are told by more experienced cruisers that it was a custom in the past for local kids to pick up garbage for a few pesos, or offer to do some sort of work on the boat for payment. Apparently things have changed over the years; so that handouts are preferred now.
The next morning I kayaked quite a ways around the bay, hugging the sides to see the fish and other sea life in the extremely clear water. I paddled continuously for over an hour, usually in time to a variety of Beach Boys’ songs from my IPod dangling around my neck. It doesn’t get much better than that! The only concern I have is that I might be developing my arm and shoulder muscles so impressively that I won’t be able to fit into my T-shirts. Sheilagh doesn’t think it will be a problem for a long time yet, nor is she particularly impressed with large shoulders, she says.
As I was kayaking, I thought I might be close to running aground on some of the large rocks below me, only to find that I couldn’t reach it with my paddle when I would thrust it straight down. The water is so clear here that the bottom seems to rise up to the surface, and the fish are very visible. On the other hand, I noticed some small waves breaking on something immediately ahead of me, which turned out to be a large rock that came clear to the surface. I realized at the time that I could kayak anywhere, but some of the fascination for me is the challenge of the unknown that may be lurking nearby. I was invigorated by the need to watch what I was doing, since an inflatable dinghy won’t last long if it rubs up against coral or sharp rocks.
When I mentioned this heightened sense of thrill at the newness of what we are doing to Sheilagh in a discussion later, she commented that my sense of “thrill” at what we are doing is nothing but “anxiety” to her. Over the last several months we have been visiting places we had visited a couple of months before, so there was less of the unknown in what we were doing. Now that we are heading north into the Sea of Cortez we are back to encountering everything as “new” once again. This is not helping Sheilagh’s sense of concern about the unknown. In this particular anchorage we moved our boat once already to put it in a more protected position – something we would not have had to do if we’d been here before. Next time anchoring here should be a “piece of cake.”
I took my Hawaiian sling out for some spear fishing a couple of days ago and managed to spear a triggerfish. A Hawaiian sling, for those who don’t know, is a spear with three sharp points on one end and surgical tubing on the other end. You simply put a thumb in the rubber tubing, grab the spear by its back end, and pull the spear back, cradled in the V between the thumb and first finger. When I get the spear point within a foot or two of a fish (either by tracking it or having it swim by), I pull back the spear, release it in the direction of the fish, and the surgical tubing thrusts the point into the fish faster than it can react. A trigger fish has very strong jaws and a barb at the forehead that prevents its being pulled out of a hole. In this case I couldn’t get it fully into my string bag and I didn’t want to be bitten by it; so I discontinued my hunt and headed for shore with the fish held away from my body and wrapped in the string bag and some rope.
When I got it back to the boat, Sheilagh was in the midst of preparations for hosting Jim and Jan of ‘Mañana’; so she double bagged the triggerfish and tossed it into the freezer. By the time she got it out to fillet the next evening the combination of the cold and the hard scales (triggerfish are said to have been used by the Indians as sandpaper) made it impossible to deal with; so we still don’t know how well triggerfish taste. Sheilagh has given me instructions to spear only larger and softer fish in the future. I’m not sure I can get close enough to hunt one of those.
I checked the bottom for barnacles in the fabulously clear water and was surprised to find very few growing after three weeks. When we were tied up in marinas we had to have the bottom scraped every two weeks to stay ahead of the growth. It seems that this cleaner water and distance from other boats has its benefits. We decided it’s time to move on so we’ll have more to say later . . .
We know the Grand Canyon was created by erosion, and that must have been the case here. What was strange is that most of the ridges approaching the water were cut off vertically, as if someone had been dynamiting to create a road along the Sea of Cortez. This reminded me of the glacier activity I observed in Yosemite National Park (who can forget Half Dome?). Could there have been glacier activity down here? Also, the look of the cliff-like hills on the east side of the Baja peninsula remind me of the Columbia River gorge. I’m not in an internet location where I can research that at the moment. If someone has some information on the formation of the Sea of Cortez I would enjoy hearing it.
This reminds me that we aren’t getting a lot of comments from our readers except when Sheilagh delivers one of her occasional blogs. She seems to have a lot of females agreeing with her take on the cruising life. We publish most of the comments people send in; so feel free to do so. Naturally we have to edit them to eliminate foul language, curses, and anything I don’t agree with. Not!
After passing Isla San Jose, we encountered East winds for the next three hours that allowed us to sail even faster than we did going downwind – it’s called a beam reach and is the fastest point of sailing. Sadly, the wind died after three hours and we ended up motoring the last three hours. All in all, we saved a lot of diesel fuel and got to this very enjoyable anchorage under good conditions. Normally we could expect north winds that would have fought us all the way, which is why we decided to go for the full nine hours rather than stop in a bay along the way. From here on up, the stops are closer together and there are more really enjoyable anchorages.
Agua Verde is a fairly large bay with three lobes where boats can anchor safely with protection from the winds and seas. There were about seven boats in each of the three lobes, and we picked a good spot in the westernmost of the three lobes along a high bluff that should protect us from nearly any strong wind. We had rocked a lot at night in Isla San Francisco; so in Agua Verde we dug out our “flopper stopper” (a device we hang from our whisker pole at the side of the boat to keep it steadier in a rocking sea). It did a great job for us in preventing our rolling sideways during our stay here.
We installed Sirius Radio on our boat; so we can get all kinds of programming by way of satellite. We are able to catch all the news of the election process as well as talk radio, both liberal and conservative. We have a set of speakers in the cabin and another set in the cockpit; so we can direct the output to either location or to both locations. When Sheilagh wants some quiet and I want some music, news or talk, we simply direct it to my location (usually in the cockpit) and she retires to the cabin. Periodically we both listen to our IPods (actually Sheilagh has a Palm Pilot with the same capability) together, each of us with separate audio books we are “reading.”
Agua Verde is both a fishing village and a goat-raising locale. There are goats throughout the scraggly hills and we often hear the sound of a goat bell clanging as the lead goat is directing the group to another hill-side location. At 6PM the first night we watched two groups of goats amble down a steep grade on one of the hills nearby and up onto the hill on the other side of a spit of land on an equally steep path. We learned that these goats follow that path every evening and then return the next morning – and without any human intervention. I’m not sure what keeps the goats from wandering miles away, since I have yet to see a fence of any sort.
Naturally goat cheese (queso de cabra) is a good buy in the only tienda in town, as we found out on our first day here. We landed on a gravelly beach and walked a quarter of a mile on a dirt track to get some supplies. [I mention the gravelly beach because it’s more difficult to get the gravel out of one’s sandals after leaping out of the dinghy and hauling it up the beach. Sand flows right out of the sandals but not gravel.] The Tienda was not recognizable as a store except for a small sign that read “Tienda” over the door to a shack that had some shelves along the inside wall and a refrigerator turned on its side for a freezer. The vegetables and eggs were fresh, and we got a big chunk of goat cheese that turned out to be a bit rubbery. Slicing it thinly seemed to do the trick, but it is not the type that will melt onto a quesadilla.
That evening one of the cruisers suggested a get-together on the beach for all the cruisers in attendance in the bay, and we had about 12 couples gathered there at 5:30PM that evening. Getting together on the beach in the Sea of Cortez is a lot easier than doing it on the mainland, where the Pacific throws breaking waves at the beaches. Here the water gently laps the shore and there are no breakers at all to disrupt a dinghy landing or launch. Everyone brought his/her own beverages and an appetizer to share. We took deviled eggs, which were a big hit next to the 4 types of guacamole and chips that some of the others had brought. We met cruisers who had been at it nearly 10 years of full-time living on their boat, and others who were as new to it as we were. The talk usually centered on what lay ahead in terms of anchorages, winds, currents, and local events as we go further north into the Sea of Cortez.
Back at the boat, after the happy hour on the beach, we were visited by 6 kids in a panga with an adult doing the driving. They were asking for candy or soda in English (apparently practicing their language skills). We gave 3 cokes to split between the 6 kids and passed along a cerveza for the driver to encourage their foreign language skills. We are told by more experienced cruisers that it was a custom in the past for local kids to pick up garbage for a few pesos, or offer to do some sort of work on the boat for payment. Apparently things have changed over the years; so that handouts are preferred now.
The next morning I kayaked quite a ways around the bay, hugging the sides to see the fish and other sea life in the extremely clear water. I paddled continuously for over an hour, usually in time to a variety of Beach Boys’ songs from my IPod dangling around my neck. It doesn’t get much better than that! The only concern I have is that I might be developing my arm and shoulder muscles so impressively that I won’t be able to fit into my T-shirts. Sheilagh doesn’t think it will be a problem for a long time yet, nor is she particularly impressed with large shoulders, she says.
As I was kayaking, I thought I might be close to running aground on some of the large rocks below me, only to find that I couldn’t reach it with my paddle when I would thrust it straight down. The water is so clear here that the bottom seems to rise up to the surface, and the fish are very visible. On the other hand, I noticed some small waves breaking on something immediately ahead of me, which turned out to be a large rock that came clear to the surface. I realized at the time that I could kayak anywhere, but some of the fascination for me is the challenge of the unknown that may be lurking nearby. I was invigorated by the need to watch what I was doing, since an inflatable dinghy won’t last long if it rubs up against coral or sharp rocks.
When I mentioned this heightened sense of thrill at the newness of what we are doing to Sheilagh in a discussion later, she commented that my sense of “thrill” at what we are doing is nothing but “anxiety” to her. Over the last several months we have been visiting places we had visited a couple of months before, so there was less of the unknown in what we were doing. Now that we are heading north into the Sea of Cortez we are back to encountering everything as “new” once again. This is not helping Sheilagh’s sense of concern about the unknown. In this particular anchorage we moved our boat once already to put it in a more protected position – something we would not have had to do if we’d been here before. Next time anchoring here should be a “piece of cake.”
I took my Hawaiian sling out for some spear fishing a couple of days ago and managed to spear a triggerfish. A Hawaiian sling, for those who don’t know, is a spear with three sharp points on one end and surgical tubing on the other end. You simply put a thumb in the rubber tubing, grab the spear by its back end, and pull the spear back, cradled in the V between the thumb and first finger. When I get the spear point within a foot or two of a fish (either by tracking it or having it swim by), I pull back the spear, release it in the direction of the fish, and the surgical tubing thrusts the point into the fish faster than it can react. A trigger fish has very strong jaws and a barb at the forehead that prevents its being pulled out of a hole. In this case I couldn’t get it fully into my string bag and I didn’t want to be bitten by it; so I discontinued my hunt and headed for shore with the fish held away from my body and wrapped in the string bag and some rope.
When I got it back to the boat, Sheilagh was in the midst of preparations for hosting Jim and Jan of ‘Mañana’; so she double bagged the triggerfish and tossed it into the freezer. By the time she got it out to fillet the next evening the combination of the cold and the hard scales (triggerfish are said to have been used by the Indians as sandpaper) made it impossible to deal with; so we still don’t know how well triggerfish taste. Sheilagh has given me instructions to spear only larger and softer fish in the future. I’m not sure I can get close enough to hunt one of those.
I checked the bottom for barnacles in the fabulously clear water and was surprised to find very few growing after three weeks. When we were tied up in marinas we had to have the bottom scraped every two weeks to stay ahead of the growth. It seems that this cleaner water and distance from other boats has its benefits. We decided it’s time to move on so we’ll have more to say later . . .
June 5th – Isla San Francisco – Jim’s Blog #49
We left La Paz on Sunday, June 1st, just as the tide was going out, and rode a 1.8 knot current out the channel. The day showed a high overcast, the first we had seen in a long time, but no rain clouds to speak of. The overcast held in the moisture, keeping the humidity high, while the sea was flat smooth. We seemed to glide out onto the Sea of Cortez held suspended between the gray water and the gray sky, but the sky cleared in an hour or so.
We elected to motor to a bay just north of La Paz (about two hours away) which had been recommended by several other cruisers. Balandra Bay is known for a “mushroom rock” caused by the erosion of a sandstone layer below a harder lava cap. Naturally someone found it necessary to knock it over some time in the past, and the town council cemented it back in place. In fact toppling it became so popular that the town council finally had several fiberglass replicas made and apparently replace it regularly.
We were amazed at the clarity of the water in Balandra Bay and decided to spend a couple of days there. On the evening radio net we heard from Rich and Debbie (with sons, Kyle and Ryan) on ‘Oasis’ who are headed back toward Cabo San Lucas and eventually back to San Diego by July. They asked us to stay an extra day in Balandra Bay and have dinner with them on Monday evening before they continued on south to Cabo San Lucas. We had been trying to connect with them before they left the area; so this was an ideal arrangement.
Sunday evening had one of the most glorious sunsets we have seen in awhile – the type that has rays of sun descending down through the clouds – as if the Almighty is sitting directly above and showering His blessings down on us. That is certainly how we felt at the time. That night, however, we had our first experience with a “Coromuel,” a very warm and strong night wind from the south that sweeps down out of the hills onto the water. At midnight we began to hear the rigging lines slapping against the mast and the sound of wind whistling over the hatches. The wind increased to at least 20 knots, if not more, and we were immediately wary of our anchor set.
We turned on the GPS in the cockpit and noted that we were within the 100’ of chain that we had let out over the 16’ depth, a ratio of about 6:1, which is a better angle than the usual 5:1 scope. The other two sailboats and the power boat in the bay were spread out far enough that they would not threaten us at all if they should drag their anchors. I went right to sleep, but Sheilagh claims her anxiety kept her awake most of the night, and she got me up at 4AM to check on the conditions again. At 7AM the wind and sea were perfectly calm, as if there had been no wind the night before. Apparently the warmth of the water at night and the cooling of the land cause these adiabatic winds, and they occur so often that they have been given a name all their own: Coromuel.
We spent the next day relaxing and examining the bay in our dinghy. We had to take a close look at the “mushroom rock” to see what it was really made of, and decided that it was definitely not a fiberglass replica. It appeared that some considerable masonry work was keeping it in place. The bay is accessible to the Pazaños (native citizens of La Paz) by car and we noticed several families sunbathing and swimming on some absolutely pristine, white sand, shallow beaches. One couple had waded around a headland and found a beach to themselves very near the “mushroom rock.” I’m afraid we disturbed a rather cozy date on the beach as we tiptoed by them to see the rock.
The sailing vessel, ‘Oasis,’ with Rich, Debbie, Kyle, and Ryan onboard, anchored near us at about 2PM and called to re-invite us to a spaghetti dinner that night. We knew they had been away from a store for awhile, so we asked about their supply of beer, a favorite beverage of theirs. They said they were on their way to La Paz the next day to resupply, but for the moment they had no beer, one bottle of wine, and half a bottle of vodka. We immediately loaded up a plastic bag with some cold beer and dropped it by ahead of the dinner invitation to help them out. We also brought a bottle of wine for dinner and a pineapple-upside-down cake for dessert and had a very enjoyable evening catching up with what they had been doing. They had been higher up in the Sea of Cortez for the last several weeks and shared the information they had picked up that wasn’t in the guidebooks. The evening was finished off by a puppet show put on by their new first-grade graduate, Kyle, who may be a script writer someday.
We had the same strong Coromuel wind that night and decided it was time to move on. The next stopping point would be Isla San Francisco, which was about 30 miles north. The morning weather report suggested there would be a southern wind to speed us north; so we delayed our departure to take advantage of the wind when it would be stronger. Alas, the weather report was wrong and we ended up beating into a wind that grew to 25 knots with white-capped seas almost directly on our nose. We shortened sail, but had some exciting moments as the sails flogged the rigging while the boat plunged and soared over the 4-6’ waves. We ended up pulling all the sails down and motoring the last hour or two to get to Isla San Francisco. During the last couple of hours we were huddled under the dodger, watching spray come over the top and wet down the aft portion of the cockpit along with the entire deck of the boat.
When we finally arrived and anchored, there wasn’t anything we could touch on the boat that didn’t leave salt on our hands. We used up some of our fresh water to wash down the boat from bow to stern to eliminate this salty residue. However, the water was so clean that we simply started up our water maker to fill up both tanks to the full 40 gallons apiece. In marinas and crowded anchorages we usually avoid making water because it takes a lot more filtering of the water, less fresh water is produced per hour, and the filters take a lot of cleaning afterward. We broke out the celebratory beers after anchoring successfully and collapsed in the cockpit to recover from the “beating” we had received.
We were immediately contacted on the VHF radio, inviting us to a cocktail hour on one of the Tucson Sailing Club boats who were traveling in a group. This is a group of sailors who live in Tucson and keep their boats in San Carlos Mexico. Periodically they take group trips to the Sea of Cortez for a couple of weeks at a time. We had run into the sailing vessel, ‘Niña,’ with Jerry, Ken and Chris on board, who were in a neighboring slip to ours in La Paz and who explained the situation to us. It was the crew of Nina who had extended us the invitation, but we were worn out from the trip over and begged off. We had hoped to join them the next day, but in the morning the entire Tucson Sailing Club boats had departed for El Gato (a bay farther north), and we were left alone with one power boat in the anchorage.
The bay was teeming with a variety of fish, including puffer fish, needlefish, and some larger ones that Sheilagh spent some time trying to catch for dinner – no luck. I inflated the kayak to explore the bay and get some exercise and got in a good hour of paddling in the cool of the morning as I circled the edge of the bay. When I got back, we set out in the dinghy to go up on the beach and look around. We waded around the edge noting crabs, a variety of smaller fish, shells of all sorts and chunks of coral. Someone had built a cairn of white coral and others had added shells, almost as ornaments. We added some coral and some shells and continued wading along the beach. As it got hotter we simply walked out into the water and ducked down to our necks. The water along the shore was very warm due to some darker pebbles that absorbed more heat, but even the cooler water over the white sand was still 75° or so.
We planned to go snorkeling the next day, but the weather report insisted we would have southerly winds (from the south), and, since we were heading north, we decided to leave early and see if we could get lucky. We were determined to pull into any of several small bays along the way to Agua Verde, if the weather refused to follow the prediction. As we set out, we had a good south wind, and had a good sail. More later . . .
We elected to motor to a bay just north of La Paz (about two hours away) which had been recommended by several other cruisers. Balandra Bay is known for a “mushroom rock” caused by the erosion of a sandstone layer below a harder lava cap. Naturally someone found it necessary to knock it over some time in the past, and the town council cemented it back in place. In fact toppling it became so popular that the town council finally had several fiberglass replicas made and apparently replace it regularly.
We were amazed at the clarity of the water in Balandra Bay and decided to spend a couple of days there. On the evening radio net we heard from Rich and Debbie (with sons, Kyle and Ryan) on ‘Oasis’ who are headed back toward Cabo San Lucas and eventually back to San Diego by July. They asked us to stay an extra day in Balandra Bay and have dinner with them on Monday evening before they continued on south to Cabo San Lucas. We had been trying to connect with them before they left the area; so this was an ideal arrangement.
Sunday evening had one of the most glorious sunsets we have seen in awhile – the type that has rays of sun descending down through the clouds – as if the Almighty is sitting directly above and showering His blessings down on us. That is certainly how we felt at the time. That night, however, we had our first experience with a “Coromuel,” a very warm and strong night wind from the south that sweeps down out of the hills onto the water. At midnight we began to hear the rigging lines slapping against the mast and the sound of wind whistling over the hatches. The wind increased to at least 20 knots, if not more, and we were immediately wary of our anchor set.
We turned on the GPS in the cockpit and noted that we were within the 100’ of chain that we had let out over the 16’ depth, a ratio of about 6:1, which is a better angle than the usual 5:1 scope. The other two sailboats and the power boat in the bay were spread out far enough that they would not threaten us at all if they should drag their anchors. I went right to sleep, but Sheilagh claims her anxiety kept her awake most of the night, and she got me up at 4AM to check on the conditions again. At 7AM the wind and sea were perfectly calm, as if there had been no wind the night before. Apparently the warmth of the water at night and the cooling of the land cause these adiabatic winds, and they occur so often that they have been given a name all their own: Coromuel.
We spent the next day relaxing and examining the bay in our dinghy. We had to take a close look at the “mushroom rock” to see what it was really made of, and decided that it was definitely not a fiberglass replica. It appeared that some considerable masonry work was keeping it in place. The bay is accessible to the Pazaños (native citizens of La Paz) by car and we noticed several families sunbathing and swimming on some absolutely pristine, white sand, shallow beaches. One couple had waded around a headland and found a beach to themselves very near the “mushroom rock.” I’m afraid we disturbed a rather cozy date on the beach as we tiptoed by them to see the rock.
The sailing vessel, ‘Oasis,’ with Rich, Debbie, Kyle, and Ryan onboard, anchored near us at about 2PM and called to re-invite us to a spaghetti dinner that night. We knew they had been away from a store for awhile, so we asked about their supply of beer, a favorite beverage of theirs. They said they were on their way to La Paz the next day to resupply, but for the moment they had no beer, one bottle of wine, and half a bottle of vodka. We immediately loaded up a plastic bag with some cold beer and dropped it by ahead of the dinner invitation to help them out. We also brought a bottle of wine for dinner and a pineapple-upside-down cake for dessert and had a very enjoyable evening catching up with what they had been doing. They had been higher up in the Sea of Cortez for the last several weeks and shared the information they had picked up that wasn’t in the guidebooks. The evening was finished off by a puppet show put on by their new first-grade graduate, Kyle, who may be a script writer someday.
We had the same strong Coromuel wind that night and decided it was time to move on. The next stopping point would be Isla San Francisco, which was about 30 miles north. The morning weather report suggested there would be a southern wind to speed us north; so we delayed our departure to take advantage of the wind when it would be stronger. Alas, the weather report was wrong and we ended up beating into a wind that grew to 25 knots with white-capped seas almost directly on our nose. We shortened sail, but had some exciting moments as the sails flogged the rigging while the boat plunged and soared over the 4-6’ waves. We ended up pulling all the sails down and motoring the last hour or two to get to Isla San Francisco. During the last couple of hours we were huddled under the dodger, watching spray come over the top and wet down the aft portion of the cockpit along with the entire deck of the boat.
When we finally arrived and anchored, there wasn’t anything we could touch on the boat that didn’t leave salt on our hands. We used up some of our fresh water to wash down the boat from bow to stern to eliminate this salty residue. However, the water was so clean that we simply started up our water maker to fill up both tanks to the full 40 gallons apiece. In marinas and crowded anchorages we usually avoid making water because it takes a lot more filtering of the water, less fresh water is produced per hour, and the filters take a lot of cleaning afterward. We broke out the celebratory beers after anchoring successfully and collapsed in the cockpit to recover from the “beating” we had received.
We were immediately contacted on the VHF radio, inviting us to a cocktail hour on one of the Tucson Sailing Club boats who were traveling in a group. This is a group of sailors who live in Tucson and keep their boats in San Carlos Mexico. Periodically they take group trips to the Sea of Cortez for a couple of weeks at a time. We had run into the sailing vessel, ‘Niña,’ with Jerry, Ken and Chris on board, who were in a neighboring slip to ours in La Paz and who explained the situation to us. It was the crew of Nina who had extended us the invitation, but we were worn out from the trip over and begged off. We had hoped to join them the next day, but in the morning the entire Tucson Sailing Club boats had departed for El Gato (a bay farther north), and we were left alone with one power boat in the anchorage.
The bay was teeming with a variety of fish, including puffer fish, needlefish, and some larger ones that Sheilagh spent some time trying to catch for dinner – no luck. I inflated the kayak to explore the bay and get some exercise and got in a good hour of paddling in the cool of the morning as I circled the edge of the bay. When I got back, we set out in the dinghy to go up on the beach and look around. We waded around the edge noting crabs, a variety of smaller fish, shells of all sorts and chunks of coral. Someone had built a cairn of white coral and others had added shells, almost as ornaments. We added some coral and some shells and continued wading along the beach. As it got hotter we simply walked out into the water and ducked down to our necks. The water along the shore was very warm due to some darker pebbles that absorbed more heat, but even the cooler water over the white sand was still 75° or so.
We planned to go snorkeling the next day, but the weather report insisted we would have southerly winds (from the south), and, since we were heading north, we decided to leave early and see if we could get lucky. We were determined to pull into any of several small bays along the way to Agua Verde, if the weather refused to follow the prediction. As we set out, we had a good south wind, and had a good sail. More later . . .
Sunday, June 1, 2008
June 1st – La Paz – Jim’s Blog #48
We have been enjoying La Paz as we prepare to go north into the Sea of Cortez. This is the last major supply location for the next several weeks or months, and we want to make the most of it. Sheilagh has already replaced the water pump after we made two trips to the marine supply store, finding that the first purchase was a later model pump that didn’t fit the space we had for it. Every task seems to include additional problems that we hadn’t planned on.
We also met another couple, Chuck and Linda of ‘Jacaranda,’ and had dinner at a very elegant restaurant with them and Ed and Cornelia of ‘A Cappella’ on the night before Ed and Cornelia were departing north. Suckling pig was on the menu, but it still had a couple of hours to go in the adobe oven; so we had lamb and rib eye steak instead. The meat was the best we’ve had in Mexico so far, and we got to see the fully-cooked suckling pig when it was removed from the oven. It’s still difficult for me to look at the faces of the meat I’m eating, particularly when the meat is ripped from its mother’s teat while it’s still being nursed. It may be awhile before I even think of ordering suckling pig, and then I really won’t want to see it before it’s carved up on the plate – and I certainly won’t want to see the head.
We got back to the boat that night and smelled a strong fish-like smell in the boat that seemed to come from the galley. Sheilagh determined that it must be something in the sink drain; so we closed the through-hull and filled it with vinegar. In the morning the smell was still with us, and we weren’t sure how to get rid of it. We decided to scramble some eggs for breakfast, when Sheilagh found that the smell was coming from the eggs we had stored on a shelf. Several of the eggs had broken (apparently from the bashing we had received on Sunday), some flies had managed to lay eggs on the broken ones, and the egg carton was crawling with maggots. We decided not to pick out the good eggs from the stinky mess. Instead we stuck the whole thing in a plastic bag, and I walked it to the garbage can. Now we have to find a better way to keep the eggs from cracking in a rough sea. Apparently most of our cruising from this point forward will be relatively calm.
On Thursday we made separate shopping trips to give ourselves some time to be alone – I took back the oversized water pump, while Sheilagh did some grocery shopping. It was in La Paz in November that we were in the best shape we have ever been in because of all the walking we did. Now we are getting back into walking again, and our bodies can feel the change.
On Friday I spent most of the day catching up on the news, perfecting my Sudoku mastery, and working on my blogs – which means I did very little exercising. In fact I had noticed that the stainless steel was looking a bit rustier than usual and decided the 10+ hours it would take me to catch up with the shine was better spent supervising two local workers. It cost me $60 for the 10-hour job, which was well worth the cost – particularly in this heat. When we get up into the Sea of Cortez in some of those cozy little bays, I’ll have to make sure I take an hour or two in the cool of the morning every day or two to keep the stainless steel in good shape.
I have pulled out my list of resolutions and added some daily exercise to the list – possibly spent stretching with some yoga, swimming, fishing with spear or bow and arrow, or hiking along the shore. I also brought along a guitar to become a “world-famous” classical guitarist by the end of the trip. I figure that I will have succeeded if I can relearn the ability to play the guitar by sight-reading the music. I could do it in a limited fashion 20 years ago, but now I have so much time that I have no excuse not to get a lot better. We’ll see if I can stick to my resolutions.
As part of my personal improvement process I am also starting to study the boat systems manuals one by one to make sure I understand the full capability of all the systems. I also want to develop my skills with celestial navigation, even if GPS has eliminated the need for that competence these days. We have two separate GPS’s attached to the boat, and I have a handheld unit in an emergency. There is always the possibility that the electronics in the boat can fail for any number of reasons – not the least of which is a lightning strike, since our mast will be the highest object in the area of most thunderstorms. In the event that we should get close to a thunderstorm, the first task will be to put the handheld VHF and GPS in the oven along with our two laptops, which is supposed to protect them. The next task will be to turn off all the electronic equipment, although there is no guarantee that lightning couldn’t still take out most of it.
We saw a sister-ship in Puerto Vallarta that had been struck by lightning and had lost all its electronics. The ship itself looked fine, but the entire electronic suite had been cooked. Although insurance will help, the full outlay to purchase and install a completely new system would be several thousands of dollars including the radar, GPS’s, knot meter, wind gauge, depth gauge, and the various radios including HAM, VHF, FM, Sirius Satellite. Lightning would more than likely knock out the autopilot, and it could affect the engine as well. And the solar panels and controllers would also be likely to fail, not to mention the entire electrical panel possibly melting down. It’s not a pleasant thought, but it is a possibility; so we need to be prepared.
It’s amazing the things one learns from other cruisers – things that are considered essential for safety from their point of view – that become essential items for the rest of us. For instance we learned that several of the cruisers had purchased full Lycra body suits for sun protection and jellyfish resistance while snorkeling. My concept of Lycra is that it is for small, stretchy bikinis worn by super models who have the body for them. When I heard about the body suit, I immediately looked down at my less-than-ripped abs and decided that I really didn’t need to accentuate the folds to be found in that location. Nevertheless, I could see the value of the protection from sun and jellyfish; so Sheilagh and I have both ordered one ($40 apiece). We may or may not model them in a photograph in the blog – it depends on how badly we look in them. That’s another reason for my resolution to get more exercise that I mentioned earlier. Hopefully the Lycra bodysuit will be hanging like loose skin from my marvelously ripped body in a few months – I can always hope.
We put off a Saturday departure until today, Sunday, because we hadn’t accomplished all the provisioning we will need. Yesterday we walked a couple of miles to the main CCC store (a combination food market, drug store and clothing emporium) in a very hot sun with very little shade in order to get our exercise. We gasped in relief at the coolness of the store and quickly realized why it was so full of shoppers – everyone was getting in out of the heat. It also appeared that the entire high school was employed as sample distributors, handing out samples of yogurt, various juice drinks, various cheeses, crackers, and even raisin bran (dry with no milk). We piled a food basket high with essentials at the slow pace of the rest of the crowd pushing baskets through the store, swerving constantly to avoid employees attempting to stock the shelves before each item ran out. We had so much to carry that we grabbed a cab and made it back in fine style, glad of the chance to rest our weary bodies.
We unloaded the groceries, put them away and grabbed naps before our last night out on the town. At about 8PM it was cool enough to venture forth; so we joined Chuck and Linda of ‘Jacaranda’ for a walk down the malecon (the street and sidewalk bordering the harbor). [In most cities in the U.S. large hotels have been built next to the main beach and block off the beach access, but not in the larger Mexican cities we have visited. It seems that the weekend was devoted to “Armed Forces Appreciation,” and we encountered static displays of aircraft and boats on a large square on the malecon, along with a band, food booths, and military men in uniform walking around answering questions. In the U.S. we would have had protesters calling for the elimination of the military, but here it was a celebration.
All along the malecon were cars loaded with people of all ages cruising back and forth along the main drive, checking out everything and everyone. At one point we heard a lot of horns honking and looked up to see a string of cars leading a flatbed truck where a large metal robot about 10’ tall was being kept from falling off the truck by a couple of men. The robot was moving its arms and proclaiming some message on the display screen embedded in its chest. What was interesting was that the honking continued all along the route, and then it was repeated in the opposite direction.
By 10PM we were ready to call it a night – heck, we stayed up an hour beyond the time when cruisers typically hit the rack. We were asleep in short order, ready to depart today.
We aren’t sure about internet connections from here on going north. We’ve been told that such opportunities are few and far between. So we’re not sure when we’ll be able to update this blog or get in touch with any of you. Please don’t worry if we should be “off the internet” for awhile. We are entering fairly calm waters going north and should have no difficulty. There are two “hurricane holes” north of us where we should be able to ride out any hurricane-like weather, if it comes this far north. Both of those locations have internet connections; so we’ll let you know if we are battening down the hatches to avoid a storm. Hurricane holes are places with strong moorings and plenty of land protection all around, where cruisers put out extra lines and anchors, remove all sails and anything that could blow off the boat, and hunker down. Both of these hurricane holes have never had a direct hit by a hurricane, because hurricanes seldom come this far north. Those boats that have caught the edge of a hurricane in these holes have done fine.
We’ll be sending out occasional messages to family using our HAM radio to send short emails. If you send us an email and don’t hear from us in awhile, please have patience and we will get back to you when we get to an internet location. We hope you all have as nice a summer as we expect to have. Good-by for now. More later . . .
We also met another couple, Chuck and Linda of ‘Jacaranda,’ and had dinner at a very elegant restaurant with them and Ed and Cornelia of ‘A Cappella’ on the night before Ed and Cornelia were departing north. Suckling pig was on the menu, but it still had a couple of hours to go in the adobe oven; so we had lamb and rib eye steak instead. The meat was the best we’ve had in Mexico so far, and we got to see the fully-cooked suckling pig when it was removed from the oven. It’s still difficult for me to look at the faces of the meat I’m eating, particularly when the meat is ripped from its mother’s teat while it’s still being nursed. It may be awhile before I even think of ordering suckling pig, and then I really won’t want to see it before it’s carved up on the plate – and I certainly won’t want to see the head.
We got back to the boat that night and smelled a strong fish-like smell in the boat that seemed to come from the galley. Sheilagh determined that it must be something in the sink drain; so we closed the through-hull and filled it with vinegar. In the morning the smell was still with us, and we weren’t sure how to get rid of it. We decided to scramble some eggs for breakfast, when Sheilagh found that the smell was coming from the eggs we had stored on a shelf. Several of the eggs had broken (apparently from the bashing we had received on Sunday), some flies had managed to lay eggs on the broken ones, and the egg carton was crawling with maggots. We decided not to pick out the good eggs from the stinky mess. Instead we stuck the whole thing in a plastic bag, and I walked it to the garbage can. Now we have to find a better way to keep the eggs from cracking in a rough sea. Apparently most of our cruising from this point forward will be relatively calm.
On Thursday we made separate shopping trips to give ourselves some time to be alone – I took back the oversized water pump, while Sheilagh did some grocery shopping. It was in La Paz in November that we were in the best shape we have ever been in because of all the walking we did. Now we are getting back into walking again, and our bodies can feel the change.
On Friday I spent most of the day catching up on the news, perfecting my Sudoku mastery, and working on my blogs – which means I did very little exercising. In fact I had noticed that the stainless steel was looking a bit rustier than usual and decided the 10+ hours it would take me to catch up with the shine was better spent supervising two local workers. It cost me $60 for the 10-hour job, which was well worth the cost – particularly in this heat. When we get up into the Sea of Cortez in some of those cozy little bays, I’ll have to make sure I take an hour or two in the cool of the morning every day or two to keep the stainless steel in good shape.
I have pulled out my list of resolutions and added some daily exercise to the list – possibly spent stretching with some yoga, swimming, fishing with spear or bow and arrow, or hiking along the shore. I also brought along a guitar to become a “world-famous” classical guitarist by the end of the trip. I figure that I will have succeeded if I can relearn the ability to play the guitar by sight-reading the music. I could do it in a limited fashion 20 years ago, but now I have so much time that I have no excuse not to get a lot better. We’ll see if I can stick to my resolutions.
As part of my personal improvement process I am also starting to study the boat systems manuals one by one to make sure I understand the full capability of all the systems. I also want to develop my skills with celestial navigation, even if GPS has eliminated the need for that competence these days. We have two separate GPS’s attached to the boat, and I have a handheld unit in an emergency. There is always the possibility that the electronics in the boat can fail for any number of reasons – not the least of which is a lightning strike, since our mast will be the highest object in the area of most thunderstorms. In the event that we should get close to a thunderstorm, the first task will be to put the handheld VHF and GPS in the oven along with our two laptops, which is supposed to protect them. The next task will be to turn off all the electronic equipment, although there is no guarantee that lightning couldn’t still take out most of it.
We saw a sister-ship in Puerto Vallarta that had been struck by lightning and had lost all its electronics. The ship itself looked fine, but the entire electronic suite had been cooked. Although insurance will help, the full outlay to purchase and install a completely new system would be several thousands of dollars including the radar, GPS’s, knot meter, wind gauge, depth gauge, and the various radios including HAM, VHF, FM, Sirius Satellite. Lightning would more than likely knock out the autopilot, and it could affect the engine as well. And the solar panels and controllers would also be likely to fail, not to mention the entire electrical panel possibly melting down. It’s not a pleasant thought, but it is a possibility; so we need to be prepared.
It’s amazing the things one learns from other cruisers – things that are considered essential for safety from their point of view – that become essential items for the rest of us. For instance we learned that several of the cruisers had purchased full Lycra body suits for sun protection and jellyfish resistance while snorkeling. My concept of Lycra is that it is for small, stretchy bikinis worn by super models who have the body for them. When I heard about the body suit, I immediately looked down at my less-than-ripped abs and decided that I really didn’t need to accentuate the folds to be found in that location. Nevertheless, I could see the value of the protection from sun and jellyfish; so Sheilagh and I have both ordered one ($40 apiece). We may or may not model them in a photograph in the blog – it depends on how badly we look in them. That’s another reason for my resolution to get more exercise that I mentioned earlier. Hopefully the Lycra bodysuit will be hanging like loose skin from my marvelously ripped body in a few months – I can always hope.
We put off a Saturday departure until today, Sunday, because we hadn’t accomplished all the provisioning we will need. Yesterday we walked a couple of miles to the main CCC store (a combination food market, drug store and clothing emporium) in a very hot sun with very little shade in order to get our exercise. We gasped in relief at the coolness of the store and quickly realized why it was so full of shoppers – everyone was getting in out of the heat. It also appeared that the entire high school was employed as sample distributors, handing out samples of yogurt, various juice drinks, various cheeses, crackers, and even raisin bran (dry with no milk). We piled a food basket high with essentials at the slow pace of the rest of the crowd pushing baskets through the store, swerving constantly to avoid employees attempting to stock the shelves before each item ran out. We had so much to carry that we grabbed a cab and made it back in fine style, glad of the chance to rest our weary bodies.
We unloaded the groceries, put them away and grabbed naps before our last night out on the town. At about 8PM it was cool enough to venture forth; so we joined Chuck and Linda of ‘Jacaranda’ for a walk down the malecon (the street and sidewalk bordering the harbor). [In most cities in the U.S. large hotels have been built next to the main beach and block off the beach access, but not in the larger Mexican cities we have visited. It seems that the weekend was devoted to “Armed Forces Appreciation,” and we encountered static displays of aircraft and boats on a large square on the malecon, along with a band, food booths, and military men in uniform walking around answering questions. In the U.S. we would have had protesters calling for the elimination of the military, but here it was a celebration.
All along the malecon were cars loaded with people of all ages cruising back and forth along the main drive, checking out everything and everyone. At one point we heard a lot of horns honking and looked up to see a string of cars leading a flatbed truck where a large metal robot about 10’ tall was being kept from falling off the truck by a couple of men. The robot was moving its arms and proclaiming some message on the display screen embedded in its chest. What was interesting was that the honking continued all along the route, and then it was repeated in the opposite direction.
By 10PM we were ready to call it a night – heck, we stayed up an hour beyond the time when cruisers typically hit the rack. We were asleep in short order, ready to depart today.
We aren’t sure about internet connections from here on going north. We’ve been told that such opportunities are few and far between. So we’re not sure when we’ll be able to update this blog or get in touch with any of you. Please don’t worry if we should be “off the internet” for awhile. We are entering fairly calm waters going north and should have no difficulty. There are two “hurricane holes” north of us where we should be able to ride out any hurricane-like weather, if it comes this far north. Both of those locations have internet connections; so we’ll let you know if we are battening down the hatches to avoid a storm. Hurricane holes are places with strong moorings and plenty of land protection all around, where cruisers put out extra lines and anchors, remove all sails and anything that could blow off the boat, and hunker down. Both of these hurricane holes have never had a direct hit by a hurricane, because hurricanes seldom come this far north. Those boats that have caught the edge of a hurricane in these holes have done fine.
We’ll be sending out occasional messages to family using our HAM radio to send short emails. If you send us an email and don’t hear from us in awhile, please have patience and we will get back to you when we get to an internet location. We hope you all have as nice a summer as we expect to have. Good-by for now. More later . . .
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