The Miss Molly I Adventures - Part 8
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Mexico!
Chula Vista was a great stop-over place, but, as is the nature of cruising, was only ever going to be a transitory port for us. The marina was beautiful and the climate mild, even in late November. We took the opportunity to head into San Diego for a look around, and also did one of the most important things we needed to do while we were there - got our visas and fishing permit for Mexico from the consulate. Basically speaking, we were told that every boat heading south had to have a fishing permit and that there were expensive consequences for anyone caught not having one - I guess it's really just a kind of cruising tax, but many countries have such a tax and, in a way, it's all fair enough.
After 9 days in Chula Vista, it was time to head on; November was drawing to a close and we had a goal of being somewhere nice, and perhaps tropical for Christmas. We headed out of San Diego Bay mid-morning and turned south towards Mexico. We were back to being a crew of 2, having said fond farewells to Joy in Chula Vista - she would head back up to Half Moon Bay to collect her motorhome, and then back to Crescent City, to where we met her in the first place (her wanderlust and spirit of adventure never left her though, and, at the time of writing, she is currently residing in Alaska, having commuted several times between Florida, California and Alaska, spent time in New Zealand and visited us in Germany)
After 9 days in Chula Vista, it was time to head on; November was drawing to a close and we had a goal of being somewhere nice, and perhaps tropical for Christmas. We headed out of San Diego Bay mid-morning and turned south towards Mexico. We were back to being a crew of 2, having said fond farewells to Joy in Chula Vista - she would head back up to Half Moon Bay to collect her motorhome, and then back to Crescent City, to where we met her in the first place (her wanderlust and spirit of adventure never left her though, and, at the time of writing, she is currently residing in Alaska, having commuted several times between Florida, California and Alaska, spent time in New Zealand and visited us in Germany)
Leaving San Diego Bay
Shortly after turning south, we spotted a pair of barges that were obviously laying cables of some sort; the 2 barges were close together with enormous drums of cables on the decks and leading over the sides of the barges. A big schooner- rigged training ship, flying a square topsail and double head sails, was on a tack that appeared to be taking her right between the 2 barges. Over the VHF came an anguished shout. "Sailboat, sailboat. If you keep going like that, we're gonna have to drop all these cables!". The training ship did a very prompt go about. Heaven only knows what they were thinking!
Mexico!
We crossed the line into Mexico at about 15:30 that afternoon and continued south through the evening and into the night. Night bought a dead calm and we motored on with the autopilot steering, arriving at our clearing in destination of Ensenada in the early morning. We took a mooring in the harbour and went ashore to complete the necessary customs, immigration and port captain paperwork. Mexico required paperwork in triplicate, to be checked in at every major town that you went in to, but, despite this, it all went smoothly and the officials were mainly a friendly bunch. I have no idea what they did with all those pieces of paper though - maybe there's an enormous warehouse somewhere, stuffed to the gunnels with paperwork handed in by the thousands of cruising sailboats that pass through. Whatever, it was certainly good to be in Mexico, in a very different cultural environment!
The cruising life :-)
The cockpit getting some colour!
Sailing out of Ensenada
We spent one full day in Ensenada and then were ready to move on again, We had the idea that we'd like to be in Cabo San Lucas, right on the very southern tip of the Baja peninsula, for Chistmas, so, obviously, we needed to keep moving at a reasonable pace. So, mid-morning we raised sail and sailed off the mooring and out of the harbour. There was a small island called Isla Todos Santos a short distance offshore and we rather liked the idea of anchoring out there for a night, but, as we approached the bay on the island that we'd picked out as an ideal anchoring place, it became clear that some sort of fish farming activity, or suchlike, was going on there and that anchoring there was not going to be possible. We headed on southwards beyond the island until we reached a spot called Puerto Santo Tomas, where we anchored in a horrible, rolly anchorage for the night.
It was, in fact, so horrible and rolly that we were underway again at first light the next morning, heading southwards once more. Our attempts to clear the kelp beds off Punta San Jose were unfortunately unsuccessful and once again the boat hook was put to use to disentangle the pesky stuff from the rudder - actually, we had to put her into reverse and back the last bits off!. A group of dolphns came and played with us in the early afternoon and, as the sun sank, we rounded Punta Colonet and anchored in its lee.
That lee offered little protection - the ocean swell simply diffracted around the point and it was another uncomfortable, rolly anchorage and largely sleepless night! The next morning, we sailed out into a lively wind and building seas. Close in, the waves were sloppy, choppy and uncomfortable, so we made the decision to head out to deeper waters. The wind built up to 30 knots and the waves got bigger and bigger. We made very rapid progress, surfing down the waves, heading south towards Isla San Martin, where the anchorage was entirely unprotected from the north and therefore useless in these conditions. After a quick look at that, and any potential anchorage in the lee of the island, we elected to keep going towards the potentially more protected anchorage at Cabo San Quintin. We continued to make rapid progress in seas that became a bit friendlier and, in fact, it was a very exciting sail, although I'm not sure Karin enjoyed it so very much! We rounded Cabo San Quintin around 15:00 and motorsail beat our way up behind it in winds that were still blowing in excess of 30 knots. We dropped the navy anchor with a load of chain and then motored up and threw the Danforth out on chain and rode aswell. Holding was good, but the anchorage was still almost as rolly as the last two had been. One image that I'll never forget, however, was that, as we arrived at our anchoring place after a somewhat stressful and tiring day of sailing, with the wind still blowing quite strongly across the low-lying sand and scrub, the crew of a small white Catalina sailboat anchored up a bit ahead of us, were casually lighting a real-fire barbeque in a stainless BBQ afixed to their stern rail. There were enormous flames rising from the BBQ, but the crew of that boat looked entirely relaxed and happy as we struggled to beat up to our desired anchoring position. This was our first ever sighting of 'Somewhere', a boat that we would come to know quite well as time progressed!
It was, in fact, so horrible and rolly that we were underway again at first light the next morning, heading southwards once more. Our attempts to clear the kelp beds off Punta San Jose were unfortunately unsuccessful and once again the boat hook was put to use to disentangle the pesky stuff from the rudder - actually, we had to put her into reverse and back the last bits off!. A group of dolphns came and played with us in the early afternoon and, as the sun sank, we rounded Punta Colonet and anchored in its lee.
That lee offered little protection - the ocean swell simply diffracted around the point and it was another uncomfortable, rolly anchorage and largely sleepless night! The next morning, we sailed out into a lively wind and building seas. Close in, the waves were sloppy, choppy and uncomfortable, so we made the decision to head out to deeper waters. The wind built up to 30 knots and the waves got bigger and bigger. We made very rapid progress, surfing down the waves, heading south towards Isla San Martin, where the anchorage was entirely unprotected from the north and therefore useless in these conditions. After a quick look at that, and any potential anchorage in the lee of the island, we elected to keep going towards the potentially more protected anchorage at Cabo San Quintin. We continued to make rapid progress in seas that became a bit friendlier and, in fact, it was a very exciting sail, although I'm not sure Karin enjoyed it so very much! We rounded Cabo San Quintin around 15:00 and motorsail beat our way up behind it in winds that were still blowing in excess of 30 knots. We dropped the navy anchor with a load of chain and then motored up and threw the Danforth out on chain and rode aswell. Holding was good, but the anchorage was still almost as rolly as the last two had been. One image that I'll never forget, however, was that, as we arrived at our anchoring place after a somewhat stressful and tiring day of sailing, with the wind still blowing quite strongly across the low-lying sand and scrub, the crew of a small white Catalina sailboat anchored up a bit ahead of us, were casually lighting a real-fire barbeque in a stainless BBQ afixed to their stern rail. There were enormous flames rising from the BBQ, but the crew of that boat looked entirely relaxed and happy as we struggled to beat up to our desired anchoring position. This was our first ever sighting of 'Somewhere', a boat that we would come to know quite well as time progressed!
Aaaarrrggghhh, kelp!!!
From Cabo San Quintin
We stayed in Bahia San Quintin the next day, taking the time to go ashore and have a walk and admire the views. Back at the boat, we made dinner and settled down for the evening when a curious occurence occurred. Night had fallen on a day that had been significantly calmer than the day we arrived. We were down below reading or relaxing, when I happened to glance out of the porthole and noticed a flashing light. It seemed to be flashing at us... I soon realized it was an attempt to communicate, so, not being au fait with Morse light signalling, I grabbed a sailing reference book and looked it up. The signal was a clear letter 'C', meaning, 'I wish to communicate with you'. I switched on the VHF radio and sent out a general message on channel 16. An answer came back quickly, that turned out to be from the captain of a large fishing vessel anchored in the bay. He explained that some of his crew had taken his dinghy and rowed ashore, but had not returned. He and his remaining crew members were now stranded aboard their vessel with no dinghy and missing crew. He asked if we could come over to take one of his crew members ashore to look for the missing people. I pumped up our trusty Sevylor and rowed over there, picked up one of the crew and then rowed him, through the surf, ashore. The missing dinghy and oars were there on the beach, but there was absolutely no sign of the missing crew members. After a short look around, I left the fisherman to search further and rowed back out through the surf, arriving soaking wet from the waves and spray at Miss Molly I. Later we heard that they never did find the missing crew members who were presumed to have made off to the nearest village...
The next morning, we were underway again at 07:00, motorsailing in the calm morning airs in the direction of Punta Baja. The wind picked up from the northwest at about 11:00, building over the noon period and allowing us to sail down to our next anchorage behind Punta Baja. We anchored in about 17ft of water on about 135ft of chain - there was plenty of room and the wind was obviously still building. Come late afternoon, the wind had built to be the strongest we'd experienced, and we'd put out a second anchor! Holding was good though :-)
The next anchorage en route on our way down the Baha peninsula was a little spot called Bahia San Carlos. Like most of the anchorages on the Pacific “outside” of the peninsula, it was extremely exposed to anything much except the east, but did at least offer, in calm weather, a place to drop the hook and get some kip. As we were approaching, we were called up on the VHF by a boat that was just leaving. They advised us that they had anchored there the previous night and had experienced extreme katabatic winds, dropping off the cliffs in the early hours of the morning, bending an anchor and leaving them a bit shaken. The vessel in question was “Somewhere”. We would spend a fair bit of time with them in the future. We initially decided to continue on to Isla Cedros – a Mexican island some 100 miles (depending on where you measure from!) off the coast – our next destination, but it didn’t feel quite ‘right’, so we returned to the anchorage.
The next morning, after an uneventful night, we set off on the overnight passage to Isla Cedros. The day went by and it turned into a beautiful night with exceptional visibility. We were able to sight Isla Cedros from some 60 miles away soon after midnight. By 04:30, we’d picked up the light on the northern end of the island and by 05:30 we were alongside the island and heading down its east side towards the village of Cedros. We anchored in the little protected harbour at about 11:00 in 41/2 metres of beautiful clear water.
The regulation in Mexico is/was that whenever a vessel arrived in a ‘major’ harbour town, it needed to check in with the authorities. This involved having various pieces of paperwork in triplicate and handing them in to the various offices – depending on the location, possibly port captain, immigration and customs. These could be, and often were, in 3 different offices scattered about town. Cedros only had a port captain, whose office was a most enjoyable walk up the hill, a short way out of the main harbour town. This, of course, gave us the opportunity to explore the village a bit, and it was wonderful; dirt roads and wooden buildings in varying states of repair; a restaurant/cantina and a shop. There were two other cruising boat anchored in the harbour - “Dharma” and “Somewhere”, and we finally got to meet the couple on “Somewhere”. It turned out they were also from England, were about our age, were heading down to Cabo San Lucas and then up into the Sea of Cortez and were cruising on a tight budget – we had a lot in common! They were sailing in a Catalina 28 – the two of them and a golden retriever-type dog!
The next morning, we were underway again at 07:00, motorsailing in the calm morning airs in the direction of Punta Baja. The wind picked up from the northwest at about 11:00, building over the noon period and allowing us to sail down to our next anchorage behind Punta Baja. We anchored in about 17ft of water on about 135ft of chain - there was plenty of room and the wind was obviously still building. Come late afternoon, the wind had built to be the strongest we'd experienced, and we'd put out a second anchor! Holding was good though :-)
The next anchorage en route on our way down the Baha peninsula was a little spot called Bahia San Carlos. Like most of the anchorages on the Pacific “outside” of the peninsula, it was extremely exposed to anything much except the east, but did at least offer, in calm weather, a place to drop the hook and get some kip. As we were approaching, we were called up on the VHF by a boat that was just leaving. They advised us that they had anchored there the previous night and had experienced extreme katabatic winds, dropping off the cliffs in the early hours of the morning, bending an anchor and leaving them a bit shaken. The vessel in question was “Somewhere”. We would spend a fair bit of time with them in the future. We initially decided to continue on to Isla Cedros – a Mexican island some 100 miles (depending on where you measure from!) off the coast – our next destination, but it didn’t feel quite ‘right’, so we returned to the anchorage.
The next morning, after an uneventful night, we set off on the overnight passage to Isla Cedros. The day went by and it turned into a beautiful night with exceptional visibility. We were able to sight Isla Cedros from some 60 miles away soon after midnight. By 04:30, we’d picked up the light on the northern end of the island and by 05:30 we were alongside the island and heading down its east side towards the village of Cedros. We anchored in the little protected harbour at about 11:00 in 41/2 metres of beautiful clear water.
The regulation in Mexico is/was that whenever a vessel arrived in a ‘major’ harbour town, it needed to check in with the authorities. This involved having various pieces of paperwork in triplicate and handing them in to the various offices – depending on the location, possibly port captain, immigration and customs. These could be, and often were, in 3 different offices scattered about town. Cedros only had a port captain, whose office was a most enjoyable walk up the hill, a short way out of the main harbour town. This, of course, gave us the opportunity to explore the village a bit, and it was wonderful; dirt roads and wooden buildings in varying states of repair; a restaurant/cantina and a shop. There were two other cruising boat anchored in the harbour - “Dharma” and “Somewhere”, and we finally got to meet the couple on “Somewhere”. It turned out they were also from England, were about our age, were heading down to Cabo San Lucas and then up into the Sea of Cortez and were cruising on a tight budget – we had a lot in common! They were sailing in a Catalina 28 – the two of them and a golden retriever-type dog!
Isla Cedros in the morning light
In the town - Isla Cedros
After a couple of days enjoying Isla Cedros, the both of us (Miss Molly and Somewhere) headed out in the direction of Turtle Bay. We left the harbour at 05:00 to time our arrival for mid afternoon, which we indeed did, crossing a time zone on the way so arriving one hour later!
Turtle Bay is a big and very well protected anchorage, with a bit of a cruiser community stopping over on their way south (mainly). Heading south, it really is the first decent stopover on the mainland after Ensenada. Fuel, water and supplies are available, and it boasts the most magnificent sunsets. We stayed there for 5 days, replenishing and going ashore for walks.
Turtle Bay is a big and very well protected anchorage, with a bit of a cruiser community stopping over on their way south (mainly). Heading south, it really is the first decent stopover on the mainland after Ensenada. Fuel, water and supplies are available, and it boasts the most magnificent sunsets. We stayed there for 5 days, replenishing and going ashore for walks.
Another Turtle Bay sunset
Again timing our arrival at the next anchorage for mid afternoon, we left Turtle Bay at midnight and motored out of the entrance. The offshore breeze soon picked up and built to 20 – 25 knots, and by 05:00 we were sailing with a couple of reefs in. Unsurprisingly, with the warming of the land mass, this breeze gradually diminished and we fired up the trusty Volvo Penta at about 11:00 and motored the last few hours to our destination in Bahia Asuncion.
And the next day, Friday the 13th December, we were on our way again, leaving our anchorage at 02:00, together with “Somewhere”. We picked up a lively offshore breeze with some pretty uncomfortable wind waves on the beam making things rather rolly, but, as usual, it eased by 11:00 and we were motoring again. We followed the 10 fathom line around Punta Abreojos, where reefs and shoals extend some 5 miles offshore – this seemed to take forever in the still air. Eventually however, we anchored in 5m of water (sand) in Bahia de Ballenas, with the hope that we might see some whales!
We didn’t, and it wasn’t a good night. Swells rolling into the anchorage prematurely ended our sleep, and, at 01:00, we upped the anchor and were underway again. There was good sailing with the offshore wind until the sun did its warming thing. We motored through the day until the onshore breeze kicked in again, and, as evening came, we settled into our 3 hours on, 3 hours off, watch pattern. By 22:00, we were back to a lively 25 knots of offshore breeze, with large, short and uncomfortable wind waves. It was a sleepless night, in which we maintained contact with “Somewhere” in one hour intervals. They were suffering from the dreaded sea-sickness and unfortunately lost their rather nice inflatable dinghy that they were towing (something I never do). The dropping wind in the morning sadly didn’t calm the seas and we had a lumpy motorsail to our next anchorage in Bahia Santa Maria.
And the next day, Friday the 13th December, we were on our way again, leaving our anchorage at 02:00, together with “Somewhere”. We picked up a lively offshore breeze with some pretty uncomfortable wind waves on the beam making things rather rolly, but, as usual, it eased by 11:00 and we were motoring again. We followed the 10 fathom line around Punta Abreojos, where reefs and shoals extend some 5 miles offshore – this seemed to take forever in the still air. Eventually however, we anchored in 5m of water (sand) in Bahia de Ballenas, with the hope that we might see some whales!
We didn’t, and it wasn’t a good night. Swells rolling into the anchorage prematurely ended our sleep, and, at 01:00, we upped the anchor and were underway again. There was good sailing with the offshore wind until the sun did its warming thing. We motored through the day until the onshore breeze kicked in again, and, as evening came, we settled into our 3 hours on, 3 hours off, watch pattern. By 22:00, we were back to a lively 25 knots of offshore breeze, with large, short and uncomfortable wind waves. It was a sleepless night, in which we maintained contact with “Somewhere” in one hour intervals. They were suffering from the dreaded sea-sickness and unfortunately lost their rather nice inflatable dinghy that they were towing (something I never do). The dropping wind in the morning sadly didn’t calm the seas and we had a lumpy motorsail to our next anchorage in Bahia Santa Maria.
Lumpy seas bring good fishing!
A nice tuna and a small dorado
The next day, however, gave us a comfortable motorsail, in comfortable, daytime hours, down to the very protected Bahia Magdelena, where we anchored in the wonderfully-named Man-of-War Cove.
A few days of rest in that beautiful protected anchorage gave us some walks ashore, with the opportunity to buy a few basic provisions and even a pack of beer in the fishing village there – the beer was kept in a locked shed at the back of the village to which a friendly local chap kindly escorted us! The village had enormous whale bones lying around, presumably evidence of past hunting activities…
A few days of rest in that beautiful protected anchorage gave us some walks ashore, with the opportunity to buy a few basic provisions and even a pack of beer in the fishing village there – the beer was kept in a locked shed at the back of the village to which a friendly local chap kindly escorted us! The village had enormous whale bones lying around, presumably evidence of past hunting activities…
Local fauna
Local flora
Whale bones lying around, along with suggestions that some of the locals may have visited the shed at the back of the village...
And then it was the long trip (150 miles or so) down to Cabo San Lucas, the southern most tip of the Baha peninsula. We left Bahia Magdelena at 15:00 and by the evening were sailing on the sea breeze, heading southeast. The wind turned to the east in the early hours of the morning and we were into a long, slow haul, crashing into the largish wind waves. As it does, the wind dropped in the morning, but the seas continued and we made very slow going throughout the day. The seas flattened in the late afternoon and progress under motor improved. We could see the golden flashes of mahi-mahi following the boat and our fishing lure was struck several times, but, unfortunately, every time, the fish either got off again through their spectacular jumping and fighting, or just broke the line (which was heavy line!). By 18:30, the sea breeze returned and we could sail once again through the night, until it predictably dropped again the next morning – ah the joys of near-tropical coastal sailing!
Our sailing in the Pacific thus far had been in waters where the influence of the tide is barely noticeable. However, the tidal influence on the Sea of Cortez is significant and, as we neared the cape, this influence began to make itself felt. Our (very cheap) knot stick log was showing 4 knots of progress through the water, but hourly plots were showing only 21/2 miles of progress each hour. This is somewhat frustrating when you’ve still got a way to go. However, as tides tend to do, it turned and progress improved. We rounded Cabo Falso at 15:00 and motored in to the “anchorage” at Cabo San Lucas at about 17:00 on the 21st December.
The “anchorage” at Cabo San Lucas is, to all intents and purposes, like anchoring in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It is exposed to all directions, except the north. Holding is good, but it’s not a place to stay if the wind is from any direction except north, which, luckily, at this time of year, it mainly is!
Our goal was to be in Cabo for Christmas and we’d made it, and it was a good place to be. Shops, bars, restaurants, it had all that a lively tourist town needs, along with a cruisers’ bar where all cruising boats to arrive that season got their names written up on a whiteboard. It was great to see Miss Molly I up there along with "Somewhere", "Dharma", "Honeyslide", "Sea Bear" – all boats that we knew or would come to know soon. There was an organised Christmas event that we attended and a very nice sense of camaraderie. There was one dampener; a fellow cruiser disappeared late one night on his way back to his boat in the anchorage. His wife reported him missing and over Christmas, there was considerable concern in the community for him, with various boats out looking for him. He was found alive and OK a day or so later. Apparently his dinghy had been hit by the wake of a passing large vessel as he was making his way back out to his boat in the dark. The dinghy had overturned, flooding the outboard in sea water. Unable to right the dinghy, he had clambered up on top of it and drifted out to sea. He was out there for a considerable time before being found by the coastguard in a state of some dehydration and sunburn.
Our sailing in the Pacific thus far had been in waters where the influence of the tide is barely noticeable. However, the tidal influence on the Sea of Cortez is significant and, as we neared the cape, this influence began to make itself felt. Our (very cheap) knot stick log was showing 4 knots of progress through the water, but hourly plots were showing only 21/2 miles of progress each hour. This is somewhat frustrating when you’ve still got a way to go. However, as tides tend to do, it turned and progress improved. We rounded Cabo Falso at 15:00 and motored in to the “anchorage” at Cabo San Lucas at about 17:00 on the 21st December.
The “anchorage” at Cabo San Lucas is, to all intents and purposes, like anchoring in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It is exposed to all directions, except the north. Holding is good, but it’s not a place to stay if the wind is from any direction except north, which, luckily, at this time of year, it mainly is!
Our goal was to be in Cabo for Christmas and we’d made it, and it was a good place to be. Shops, bars, restaurants, it had all that a lively tourist town needs, along with a cruisers’ bar where all cruising boats to arrive that season got their names written up on a whiteboard. It was great to see Miss Molly I up there along with "Somewhere", "Dharma", "Honeyslide", "Sea Bear" – all boats that we knew or would come to know soon. There was an organised Christmas event that we attended and a very nice sense of camaraderie. There was one dampener; a fellow cruiser disappeared late one night on his way back to his boat in the anchorage. His wife reported him missing and over Christmas, there was considerable concern in the community for him, with various boats out looking for him. He was found alive and OK a day or so later. Apparently his dinghy had been hit by the wake of a passing large vessel as he was making his way back out to his boat in the dark. The dinghy had overturned, flooding the outboard in sea water. Unable to right the dinghy, he had clambered up on top of it and drifted out to sea. He was out there for a considerable time before being found by the coastguard in a state of some dehydration and sunburn.
Approaching the cape
The southern tip of the Baja peninsula
Not the world's most protected anchorage - Due south of here is the Antarctic!
The water's nice though!
On the board!
Next up, a new year, a new life and into the Sea of Cortez!
