One harbor, many different experiences…

Bahia De Tortuga is an interesting place.  There is a small village with; a large church, a fishing cooperative, three small grocery stores, a place that sells water, gas station, a hardware store, a few schools, a few restaurants, a long fuel dock and lots of nice folks.  

When we awoke this morning there were thousands of birds circling the harbor.  At least three different species of seabirds in uncountable numbers.  There were a couple of panga fishing boats circling seine nets, the dolphins and seals were all feeding like mad.  The wind was up also causing a circulating storm of birds to form above each net.  At one point Malo fell within one of these mad circles of thousands of birds causing them to part around her boat like stormy seas in a gale.  I walked up to the bow as the air thick with birds passed by within mere  feat of me on either side.  

Water is precious here.  On the days when the mining company is using it, the town gets none.  Bev arranged to have 15 gallons delivered to the beach from where we ferried it out to Malo with our dinghy.  We used ten of those precious gallons and shared the rest with another boat.  



Needless to say, it’s dry here.  A desert right next to the ocean.  How odd and yet so old and timeless is this place that it seems the very definition of natural.



Next to the dock is the beach we’re most of us cruisers land our dinghies.
  

Pedro, the big guy on the right side of the photo above wearing a ball cap provides both traffic control, general information, trash service and security all for $20 pesos (one dollar US) per service.  It’s a small beach and Pedro keeps good order in his own gentle way.  

Right next to where cursers land, the fishermen launch and retrieve their pangas with a farm tractor.

It’s an efficient operation that happens quickly.  




















and down the road they go…



All this can be seen from the patio of Maria’s Restaurant where one can meet lots of interesting folks, enjoy a meal, check email on a very spotty internet connection all while sipping coffee or an adult beverage.

We’ve met a lot of cruising folks here and heard many interesting stories.  Sea stories have always captivated me.  The essential elements are almost always the same; the sea, a boat, weather, crew, drama, boredom, survival or not, acceptance or not and always there is affected change.  Sailors read them closely for the lessons learned and especially that ah-ha moment where, if the subjects had just done that one essential action, things would turned out differently and they would have made it thorough unscathed.  Seasoned sailors know that it’s almost never one thing that cause a disaster or saves the ship and her crew.  

Here in Bahia De Tortuga the stories have been piling up as we cruisers from the the west coast of the US make our first forays down into the remote Baja Peninsula.  As in all of life, not just in cruising, it’s how one reacts to setbacks rather that the nature of the setback that makes all the difference.  Two events that happened in this very bay serve well to illiterate that notion.

The first happened to a cruising family we first met in San Diego.  A young couple on a large sloop with two young children aboard.  I was visiting them one morning when the skipper discovered that an expensive fishing rod & reel he had left hanging off the side of his boat was missing.  He seemed quite upset with the loss, immediately assumed it had been stolen and that the thief was a local.  He announced his intent to go immediately to the police and also to announce his loss to the all the boats in the harbor via the VHF marine radio.  I hope that this one incident doesn’t sower his entire experience of this extraordinary place but I fear that it may.

That same day we met an adventurers couple who was on their way to Kirabote via Christmas Island, way out in the Pacific on board a tiny 23’ sloop.  They had landed in Turtle Bay and in the process of disembarking a water taxi, the skipper had slipped, fallen into the water between the taxi and his boat.  In the process he severely inured his leg so badly that it required hospitalization and his partner wrenched her knee quite severely.  The local folks got them medical attention, fed them and put them up until they could get back on their little boat.  They had been there a week recovering and seemed undaunted and extremely grateful to the local inhabitants of Bahia De Tortuga who took them in when they were injured, sheltered and cared for them until they could return to the sea.

It feels very much like a frontier out here where folks tend to look after one another.  Two boats were leaving the other day, headed down the coast together, Slow Motion and Passages.  Slow Motion’s alternator quit along the way and they had to limp back to harbor, Passages accompanied them to make sure they were safe and repaired.  Both crews spent the next day working on the problem to no avail.  The following day they spoke to the owner of a little beach bar, Antonio to see if he knew of a mechanic in town.  He did’t but would ask his brother, who located a mechanic who would try to fix the alternator if they would bring it to the beach the next morning.  The damaged part was beyond the mechanic’s ability to repair so he offered to have it shipped 300 miles, much of that over dirt roads, to Ensenada to have it repaired there and so begins another chapter in those boats adventures.  

We’ve toped off our water & fuel, started provisioning and our own engine has been starting regularly whenever we try it.  We can’t offer any more assistance to Slow Motion than they are already getting so I expect that we’ll be leaving soon, headed out with the next good wind that comes down the coast, bound for an even more remote place; Bahia Santa Maria.  

We are getting small...

We’ve just completed the 285 nm passage from Ensenada to Bahia Tortugas (Turtle Bay).  That took us two nights, two & a half days to complete.   It was a very good passage with fair weather, fresh wind and a couple of enchanting night sails.  Night sailing happens to be one of the delicious side benefits of extended cruising.  The sliver of a crescent moon rose both nights in the east, coming out of the ocean like a ruby goblet raised to a star filled sky.  The second night’s moon rise was even more pronounced as the further south we travel along the Baja, with fewer land lights, the night time sky much darker making the stars much more pronounced.  


And of course  there are the sunrises and sunsets.  They probably could go with out even mentioning them as they happen every day all over the world but they seem to be consistently special out on the water.  The most noticeable thing is their size, they are enormous.  The one pictured below took up the whole sky, all 360 degrees of it that surround the boat was some shade of pink, yellow or red.  Spectacular sunsets and rises also seem to happen much more frequently at sea than they do on land and the opportunity to view them is greatly enhanced by the 24/7 nature of watch-on-watch sailing that couples usually do where someone if not both crew are awake at the beginning and end of each day.  For the receptive sailor, the raw unfiltered beauty of nature, god’s infinite brush strokes, is one of the most rewarding aspects of cruising.


Besides amazing light shows each day there were other bright spots that enlivened out days.  We spotted the first large pods of dolphins.  The first one look like it contained about 100 members.  The first few pods weren’t interested in visiting Malo but put on a tremendous show of athleticism by leaping high into the sky as they blasted by.



We also saw our first flying fish of the voyage so far.  A sure sign that we are approaching tropical waters.



During the day, the coast of the Baja provided much enjoyment when we were close enough to see it.  It’s stark beauty is remarkable in itself and then there is that whole mind blowing incredulity of the juxtaposition of a vast ocean right next to a vast dessert.  Crazy!

I’m learning that Malo, not unlike many fair women comes with some heart palpating drama and she did’t hold out on this passage.  Just north of our destination the wind dropped and we tried staring the engine…it was dead, not even a little click from the starting solenoid.  My mind was fried from two nights of short and interrupted sleep.  I checked all of the connections I could readily see in the starter circuit plus the associated fuzzes but no joy.  Our friends Lyn & Curt aboard Slow Motion were expecting us in Turtle Bay so we contacted them via inReach satellite messenger.  They asked us to stay in touch and they would organize assistance if needed.  It’s a large bay and if the wind came back we were going to go in and anchor under sail.  Pajo of Cinderella who does that all the time cheered us on with a “welcome to my world”.  We still had 20nm to go so we decided to fly our code 1, gennaker as it’s a powerful light wind sail.  We got that up and it set nicely.  We were making good speed again which was important because we wanted to make harbor before the sun set.  We then had to alter course coming us to gybe the gennaker.  In the process of that we got it twisted around our head sail rot-row and had to take it down.  In the process of raising it again I managed to get a small tear in it’s foot.  So we took it down until we can repair it.  I tried the engine again for shits-and-giggles and magically it started right up.  We contacted Slow Motion and advised them to call off any stand by rescue efforts.  



The above photo of Bev was taken on the approach to Bahia Tortugas after the engine started.   Note the big smile.  Bev did great with that bit of drama.  Bev is new to cruising.  In the begging our engine set backs were harder on her.  It’s not an easy life that is filled with sudden and unexpected setbacks, interspersed within many incredible moments of extreme beauty.  

One of wonderful things about sailing is that it can expand a person’s horizons immensely, while at the same time it making one feel smaller by comparison.  Smaller in a good way; less self-important, more aware of our own venerability, the inherent venerability of all life and thusly, how precious all life truly is.  On the third morning of our passage I found a small squid on our foredeck.  It must have gotten scooped out of a wave that was pierced by Malo’s bow.  In the water, squid are incredibly beautiful creatures; translucent, constantly vibrating, they appear to pulse with light as they seemly hover in the ocean.  But not now, not this poor little one that was plastered upon Malo’s deck, dried out and grey, one small black eye facing up to the sky.  My heart ached it’s passing, plucked out of it’s fluid natural environment to die upon a desert of hard fiberglass.   The sea is a beautiful place but it’s also a place that can and does take ones life with out any remorse.  


We cruised by our friends boats one by one shouting out exuberant greetings as we went by and then set our anchors as the sun set rewarding us with another spectacular light show.  This one is special as it occurred in our new back yard.  I’m looking forward to reuniting with our friends already anchored in the bay, exploring the small town and making new friends too but after a long passage what I seek most is sleep, glorious and delicious sleep.  Simple pleasures…

Leaving San DIego

This was the second time that I’ve left San Diego.  The first time was 47 years ago by car. My father had just retired from the Navy, he loaded up our family into our new 1970 Volkswagen Microbus and drove us across the country to New England where most of us started from.  Now, decades later, I’m leaving San Diego again under my own recognizance and by water this time instead of by road, a small detail that seems to make a big difference.  Why?  I don’t know but I believe it to be true.  A reverse of the Arrival-by-boat effect is my best guess but I really don’t even know what that means. 

When I lived in SD before, as a sailing crazy kid, one of the regular big treats in my life then was sailing to the Los Coronados Islands that lie just south of San Diego in Mexico.  The islands themselves are wild and rugged things that refused to be tamed and the water that surrounds them is some of the clearest water I’ve ever seen.  Im my mind they were our very own version of the far off and exotic Galapagos islands.  For a young boy, joining a crew of 8 to 10 folks going by sail in an old wooden boat without an engine to such a place was an unspeakably delicious adventure that thrilled and delighted me to no end.  



The morning before of our departure dawned gloriously in brilliant colors of red, gold and amber all set against a blue sky and sea.  I took that as a good omen for our trip.  As I stood on the shoreline of the bay looking out at the sunrise I was joined by another early solar admirer who turned out to be a sailor just returned that previous night from Ensenada, Mexico the port that Bev and I were headed for.  He was crew on a beautiful 50’ trimaran what had suffered a catastrophic rudder failure that caused them to cut their Mexican cruise short, hardly before it got started but still, he had a glow in his eyes and voice as he spoke about their trip and expressed no regrets.  A fine sailor.  We parted ways well, me to Mexico and our fate and him back to his boat in order to limp home to their home port and needed repairs.

Just before Bev cast-off the dock lines I had to jump in the water, knife in hand, in order to cut away a big bundle of kelp that had encircled Malo’s rudder.  I thought it looked good, a big wrap of fresh, golden kelp but it had to go before we sailed again.  When we first had arrived, some friendly boaters had pointed it out as they helped us dock Malo.  I joked that Malo must have “won” something because the big bundle of golden kelp wrapped about her rudder looked like the garland of flowers that is presented to race the winner in a horse race.  That sentiment was met with silence and unconformable looks.  Oh well, I realize my humor doesn’t always land well, they had come off of super nice yachts, multi-million dollar, proper yachts…anyways I jumped in just before we left and cut the aquatic botanical masterpiece free, climbed back aboard and we were off.  The moderate wind was perfect in strength and direction, so we were able to put out the jib and cut the engine in just a few minutes after leaving the dock, headed for Ensenada with an easy gentle breeze to our back and plenty of time to make the passage.



We were planning on an easy overnight passage so with time on our hands we decided to go by those islands of my youth, the Los Coronados.  They unlike San Diego were amazingly unchanged.  Islands in time as well as the sea.  My heart soared to see there defiant and unchanged beauty.  

After a very pleasant day of sailing the sun set and then we watched, enchanted as a bizzilion lights on the coast of Mexico.  Something that was almost non existent when I sailed those waters as a kid.  Bev went below to sleep as I took the first watch of the evening.  

The moon came up and the wind increased a bit from the gentle 8nmp we had been enjoying to 12nmp.  We were sailing under only jib alone and that was reefed to about 60% in order to time our arrival to just after sunrise the next morning.  That little wind increase caused me to reef down to just a scrap of jib in order to maintain our 3nmp target speed. 

Boats went by on either side headed north.  Without speaking to one another, we adjusted our courses to best accommodate each other.  A shoal of high cirrocumulus clouds rolled in the southern sky that was back lite by the moon.  I sailed until 1:00am when I woke Bev for her watch it had been an enchanting evening of wind, water, sky and thoughts…

The next morning we made an easy entrance into the Marina Coral where we were greeted by our new dock neighbors Lynn & Ken aboard Wind & Blade and the marina staff.  After we were securely tied up we set off to officially clear ourselves and Malo into the country something which is usually a long and arduous but was made relatively easy thanks to two things 1) Ensenada’s  consolidated check out facility (customs, immigration, port captain, agriculture and a bank) all taken care of in one building, (usually they are scattered about town) and 2) Marina Coral’s extremely knowledgeable, helpful and friendly staff who drove us to the check in facility and guided us through each step of the process.  Checking into another country with a boat can often take a full day and sometimes two but this amazing process only took a couple of head spinning hours.  

After checking in we had lunch and then explored the marina facilities.  The Baja 1000, an off-road race that runs the length of the Baja Peninsula was about to start and there were a few competitor's vehicles in the parking lot.  We then made a provisioning run to a nice grocery store just across the street from the marina.  We’ve got to stock up for our run down the Baja which has few ports and even fewer shopping facilities.  

After dinner we thoroughly enjoyed the marina’s Jacuzzi and heated pool.  There was a birthday party going on poolside for a Mexican child so the area was filled with parents and high energy children all seeming to have a great time.  The language of happy children  lost in play is universal and was a delight to hear.  There were dozens of kids all having a wonderful time going in and out of the pool, all breaking almost every pool rule known in our country but for some reason nobody got hurt and they actually seemed to be playing extraordinarily well together.  That may well be a good indicator of what’s ahead.  So far, everyone we’ve encountered in Mexico including the children and parents at the pool party have been extremely friendly and nice.  I don’t understand how this place works but it sure is nice.  

San Diego, it could be better…

You can never go back, yes, I know that but still I was very much looking forward to returning to San Diego, the port where in my youth I had spent three blissful years racing Flying Dutchman and crewing on several magnificent old, wooden, engineless, Luders 44’ yawls, under the tutelage of skippers who had learned to sail those same boats at the US Naval Academy.  Salad days, accompanied by the inexperience, enthusiasm, idealism, innocence, and indiscretion that one usually associates with youth.  

The geography the place still looks roughly the same but the basic vibe and the nature of the people all seem quite strange to me.  It started when we arrived at the harbor guest dock and were met by nobody.  The new tone of this place hit me as soon as I hit the dock.  The Guest Gulag (Dock) seems to be controlled by the Harbor Patrol but when we arrive at 9:00 Last Sunday morning there was nobody around. 

 

Lots of cop boats, more than I’d ever seen in one place before but no people.  I called their office, got a machine but never heard back from them.  There was a sign outside their office that said to use the self serve kiosk to obtain a slip. 



That did not work so we booked a slip online at their wonky web site.  It’s just 1984 weird about not having an actual staff.  They would send three harbor police officers down to give someone a ticket for being a day over their computer generated reservation.  I’m talking about guys in cop uniforms, bullet proof vest, sidearm and tazer.  I remember a much warmer, more humane San Diego harbor.  One with a whole lot more sole.  How sad it is for anyone to loose their soul?  How much more so for a whole place to loose such a thing.  

Then an unfortunate boater in his boat hit Malo’s anchor fortunately for us causing no damage to either boat or anchor but unfortunately ripped off his starboard dinghy davit.  Seems like Malo can give more than she gets.  WHOA Malo!  After hitting Malo the poor guy accelerated for another 100’ until hitting not one but two boats on the other side of the finger docks.  So 3 heavily armed Harbor Patrol cops  showed up to take names and stories then after 2 hours of investigating they suddenly left with out properly securing the offending boat which was only partially and precariously tied up at the end of one of the finger docks leaving the poor captain in looking very PTSD.  

The cops actions and attitudes were bad enough in and in themselves but worst of all was the curious but uncaring attitude of the other boaters who gawked aplenty but did nothing.  So Bev, myself and one other down and out looking cruiser took the situation in hand and used some long dock lines to warped the rough boat across the finger dock canal and to it’s new slip. 

But, alas, it was not all darkness and gloom.  There is a bright spot in our visit, two such bright spots no less.  The first one comes in the form of our new port running light which now; lights!  And the second is the new dome light over my nave station.  From day one I thought that spot was too dark but I try to refrain jumping to conclusions with how a new boat it set up.  Everyone does most things for a good reason so I try to “walk a mile” in the previous owners shoes in order to gain greater understanding and another prospective before I change anything on a boat.  Now over a year later and a couple thousand sea miles I was sure that the nave table was too dark.  So today I picked up and installed a LED dome light in the nave station and suddenly my life seems to have twice as much light in it.  What a difference a day can make.  

Oh, oh, oh, and the third bright spot was the Crew of Cinderella Ava & Pajo showing up at our dock to water-up and say good by.  It was special seeing those guy again but unfortunate to be saying good-by to them so soon.  They are on their way down to Mexico tonight.  We cast them off and shouted our fond well wishes to them as they sailed off into the evening.




We are just finishing up our boat repairs and then will start cleaning in preparation to receiving boat guest tomorrow.

Catalina to San Diego, short and sweet…

We left Catalina yesterday and had a delightful sail in light 6 to 12 kt winds out of the north with calm seas of 1’ to 3’ swells.  It was an easy 90 nm trip.  That's the souther tip of Catalina in the photo above.

Bev is getting so good at driving the boat that you wouldn't know that she was doing just that; steering Malo, in the photo above but she is.  



We enjoyed an enchanting moonlight passage that was magical.  It was also the warmest passage of the trip.  On previous passages I would have on two fleece sweaters, a winter jacket, all under a heavy foul wether jacket.  Below I had thermal underwater, under pants, under foul weather over pants.  That plus two hats and gloves.  Burrrr.  Last night's passage was balmy in comparison with just one fleece and a jacket and no foulies.  Much nicer!

We did encounter one creepy 500’ navy warship that whipped past us doing 27 kts, then once past, did a U turn and then floated around the rest of the night.  I hope they stay safe.  With the recent spat of navy ships bonking into civilian ships you can be sure that we kept close eye on them.    



Dawn this morning greeted us with a divine light show.  San Diego was like coming home.  I had spent a lot of time sailing in & out of this harbor back in the day, but it’s been 47 years since I’ve done so.  It’s a strange experience as much looks the same just as much has changed and after the sideways inducing experience of last night's, night-sail, it’s a bit like returning in a dream except it all feels so real…

Catalina Island

It’s an interesting place.  Located just 22 miles from LA, it’s not big and not really small either; 22 miles long and 8 wide.  It’s a pretty dry island that has palm trees, cacti and oddly enough bison that were brought in during the 1920’s as extras for a silent western film that was shot here.  It only has a couple of towns and several beautiful harbors.  



We’re located in one of those harbors, Isthmus Cove just off of the town of Two Harbors. 



First we rested after our three day passage from Monterey.  Then we did a few boat projects like trying to fix our running lights that had gone out on the last passage.  We found the problem, a few broken connections but couldn’t fix them because our soldering iron refused to get hot enough.  Time for a new iron.  In the mean time we rigged some emergency running lights that we just happened to have for the occasion.  

We also hiked and rowed around.  One night we went into the only bar in town and watched the last game of the World Series with a few of the residents.  



This morning we had brunch with a very well mannered raven who didn’t try to take any food in spite of seeming to be very interested in what we were eating.  



It truly is a beautiful place.  The island has a rugged and stark, natural beauty set in the deep cobalt blue sea.  I’m glad we were here in the “off” season as there was evidence that this was one of those much loved places.  

I think Malo may be ready to head on south.  She’s already getting that funny little wiggle that she does when she’s been in a harbor too long.  San Diego’s next.  We’ll probably head out for there this weekend.