The Miss Molly Adventures - Part 9
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The Sea of Cortez
On New Years Day of 1997, at 00:15, timed to hopefully ensure our arrival at our intended stopover anchorage comfortably in daylight, we left Cabo San Lucas to head into the Sea of Cortez. We'd heard a lot of good things about this part of the world and it seemed like a dream come true that we would be sailing, cruising there in our own boat. Us, in the Sea of Cortez!
We motorsailed until the wind picked up at around 11:00, when we began beating into a good 20 knots of wind from the north. Anchoring in Bahia Los Frailes at 14:30 after what felt like a good, hard windward sail, we stayed there for the next day and were rewarded with a brilliant sighting of a humpback whale that broached basically right next to our boat! However, it has to be said that the first leg of our journey from Cabo to La Paz is no easy sailing - it's basically a windward leg with the tidal effects of the entire Sea of Cortez emptying into the Pacific twice a day.
We left Bahia Los Frailes at 21:30, again timing our arrival for daylight, and, heading out to clear the reef, motor sailed on until the morning. The wind built to a good 25 knots with white-capped, but small seas, in which we could sail close-hauled to our anchorage in Bahia Los Muertos – a truly beautiful anchorage, where we enjoyed beachcombing on the sandy beach.
We motorsailed until the wind picked up at around 11:00, when we began beating into a good 20 knots of wind from the north. Anchoring in Bahia Los Frailes at 14:30 after what felt like a good, hard windward sail, we stayed there for the next day and were rewarded with a brilliant sighting of a humpback whale that broached basically right next to our boat! However, it has to be said that the first leg of our journey from Cabo to La Paz is no easy sailing - it's basically a windward leg with the tidal effects of the entire Sea of Cortez emptying into the Pacific twice a day.
We left Bahia Los Frailes at 21:30, again timing our arrival for daylight, and, heading out to clear the reef, motor sailed on until the morning. The wind built to a good 25 knots with white-capped, but small seas, in which we could sail close-hauled to our anchorage in Bahia Los Muertos – a truly beautiful anchorage, where we enjoyed beachcombing on the sandy beach.
Bahia Los Muertos
Karin loved photographing these beasties :)
Nice set of choppers!
Me and a small cactus!
There are a lot of whale bones in this part of the world
We were making our way around to the city of La Paz, the capital of the Baha South state of Mexico, so, the next day we left Los Muertos for an overnighter, departing at 22:00 into very fluky winds ranging from nothing to a strong breeze and from all sorts of directions. Largish wind waves made for slow progress through the night, and wind against tide made for a very uncomfortable passage through the narrow Canal de San Lorenzo. We had intended to stop behind Punta San Lorenzo, but the building wind and waves made this idea unthinkable, so we continued in lively conditions on to Puerto Pichilingue, which turned out to be a very protected anchorage with a ferry port on one side.
After a couple of days rest, from there it was just a short hop to the city of La Paz, although the tide was making the water boil in the channel to La Paz. We anchored just after the municipal pier and went in to do our checking in duties at the 3 different offices, giving us quite a tour of a fair bit of the city.
La Paz is an excellent place to get pretty much anything. It’s a thriving Mexican city, nothing like the touristy nature of Cabo. We were there for carnival, which was a great experience, and there was a decent music scene there, including a bar that had an open stage night, where I got up and performed a few songs. We stayed for a week in La Paz and then cruised the area for another couple of weeks, returning to Pichilingue and staying there for quite a while. During this time, we took the opportunity to look into something that we’d been wondering about for a while. Ever since Cabo San Lucas, Karin had been feeling a bit “strange”. She’d actually fainted in a supermarket in La Paz – something she never normally does. We made an appointment to visit a doctor in La Paz and took the bus into the city from Pichilingue. After an ultrasound, it was confirmed that she was pregnant! I’ve mentioned earlier that we never had medical insurance. Again, the fees for this consultation were extremely fair – I can’t remember exactly, but it was a small number of dollars.
After a couple of days rest, from there it was just a short hop to the city of La Paz, although the tide was making the water boil in the channel to La Paz. We anchored just after the municipal pier and went in to do our checking in duties at the 3 different offices, giving us quite a tour of a fair bit of the city.
La Paz is an excellent place to get pretty much anything. It’s a thriving Mexican city, nothing like the touristy nature of Cabo. We were there for carnival, which was a great experience, and there was a decent music scene there, including a bar that had an open stage night, where I got up and performed a few songs. We stayed for a week in La Paz and then cruised the area for another couple of weeks, returning to Pichilingue and staying there for quite a while. During this time, we took the opportunity to look into something that we’d been wondering about for a while. Ever since Cabo San Lucas, Karin had been feeling a bit “strange”. She’d actually fainted in a supermarket in La Paz – something she never normally does. We made an appointment to visit a doctor in La Paz and took the bus into the city from Pichilingue. After an ultrasound, it was confirmed that she was pregnant! I’ve mentioned earlier that we never had medical insurance. Again, the fees for this consultation were extremely fair – I can’t remember exactly, but it was a small number of dollars.
Fresh coconut. First you drink the milk then it's split open and rubbed with lime juice and chilli. Delicious!
Well, that was a bit of a surprise, and would involve a bit of thinking somewhere in the not-too-distant future, but now that she knew what was going on, Karin was feeling a lot better. Our plans wouldn't really change - we intended to cruise the beautiful waters of the Sea of Cortez until the start of the hurricane season in May and then head home. This would still work splendidly in terms of timing. The baby was due some time in August.
One thing we needed to do was to haul Miss Molly out and clean her bottom (there'd be a lot more bottom cleaning of a different nature coming up in the next few years!). There was a nice little haul out facility with hard standing and we were confident we could get her out and back in in a couple of days.
One thing we needed to do was to haul Miss Molly out and clean her bottom (there'd be a lot more bottom cleaning of a different nature coming up in the next few years!). There was a nice little haul out facility with hard standing and we were confident we could get her out and back in in a couple of days.
Hauling out
Dirty bottom
Yes, you can do it in a small boat as well!
That all went smoothly and in very little time we were back at anchor, enjoying the twice daily "dance" of the boats as they swing to the tide and wind at anchor in the channel of La Paz. We rowed over to the mangroves on the far side of the channel and enjoyed the scenery of wildlife and derelict boats (well, the boats are a bit sad really).
Mangrove wildlife
and derelict boats :(
Karin. Taken the day we discovered she was expecting our first child :) Collecting stones/shells on the beach, as usual!
We parted company with our friends on “Dharma” as we left Pichilingue. They had been a regular part of our cruising since we first met them in Cedros, but they were staying in the La Paz area and heading up to San Carlos later, and we wanted to explore more and get to San Carlos to haul out and leave the boat for the hurricane season by April. We had a final evening of food together, they gave us some homemade sand dollar Christmas decorations that still to this day hang on our Christmas tree every year and then we said our goodbyes.
On 22nd February, we finally left the La Paz bay area and crossed the Canal de San Lorenzo to Isla Espirito Santo. A strong breeze built from the north and we sailed close-hauled alongside the island to the anchorage in Puerto Ballena, moving on the next day for the one hour hop to Caleta Partida on Isla Partida. This is an excellent anchorage that appears to be a collapsed cone of an extinct volcano. We spent over a week there, snorkelling, relaxing, swimming...
Our guide book, Charlie’s Charts, told us that there was a well with drinking water on Ilsa Espirito Santo, a short walk inland from Puerto Ballena, and as we were getting a bit low on water, we decided to take a sail down there to replenish. We rowed ashore with our empty water jugs and wandered off in search of the well. Well, it took a while to find the well; it turned out to be a good way inland and well-hidden amongst some rocky bits. When we eventually found the well, it didn't look to be an entirely well well; there was some questionable-looking scum floating on the top that, frankly, was a bit disconcerting. However, the guide book said it was drinking water, so we filled our jugs and had a strenuous climb back with 19 gallons of water in hand, followed by a strenuous row back out to the boat, followed by a strenuous heaving of the water jugs up on to the deck from a rather wobbly cheap inflatable dinghy. Finally back on board, we sailed, with replete water tanks, in a light northeasterly up to Ensenada Grande on Isla Partida and dropped the hook in 6m of beautiful clear water, spending the rest of the day enjoying the excellent snorkelling.
On 22nd February, we finally left the La Paz bay area and crossed the Canal de San Lorenzo to Isla Espirito Santo. A strong breeze built from the north and we sailed close-hauled alongside the island to the anchorage in Puerto Ballena, moving on the next day for the one hour hop to Caleta Partida on Isla Partida. This is an excellent anchorage that appears to be a collapsed cone of an extinct volcano. We spent over a week there, snorkelling, relaxing, swimming...
Our guide book, Charlie’s Charts, told us that there was a well with drinking water on Ilsa Espirito Santo, a short walk inland from Puerto Ballena, and as we were getting a bit low on water, we decided to take a sail down there to replenish. We rowed ashore with our empty water jugs and wandered off in search of the well. Well, it took a while to find the well; it turned out to be a good way inland and well-hidden amongst some rocky bits. When we eventually found the well, it didn't look to be an entirely well well; there was some questionable-looking scum floating on the top that, frankly, was a bit disconcerting. However, the guide book said it was drinking water, so we filled our jugs and had a strenuous climb back with 19 gallons of water in hand, followed by a strenuous row back out to the boat, followed by a strenuous heaving of the water jugs up on to the deck from a rather wobbly cheap inflatable dinghy. Finally back on board, we sailed, with replete water tanks, in a light northeasterly up to Ensenada Grande on Isla Partida and dropped the hook in 6m of beautiful clear water, spending the rest of the day enjoying the excellent snorkelling.
Anchored in Caleta Partida
Caleta Partida
The 5th of March was a windy one. Gusts of 40 knots or more disturbed our sleep and indeed most of the day. We had deflated the dinghy, rolled it up and stowed it on the cabin roof, but a gust was strong enough to blow it clean over the rails and into the water, where it went floating off. We quickly upped anchor and sped after it, retrieving it with the boathook on the second attempt. On the VHF, another boat armed with an anemometer, reported 42 knots of wind, and sheets of spray were being blown off the sea! However, the following night was all calm again, and the next morning, we headed off to sail to Isla San Francisco. It was a lovely hot day and we were treated to a great sighting of a manta ray doing a somersault jump out of the water We anchored in 41/2 metres of water in the gorgeous sweeping bay of Isla San Francisco around lunchtime. Our friends on “Honeyslide” were also there and we all went ashore and climbed the peak.
On our way to Isla San Francisco (photo from 'Honeyslide')
We had a great time on the island, going ashore several times to explore and wonder at the myriad of weirdly-shaped cactus. There were some salt drying pools that still seemed to be in use and it was generally a beautiful, uninhabited island. One evening, together with our friends from 'Honeyslide', we built a beach fire and had a great time. The fire did seem to attract the scorpions and several brown ones could be seen crawling around in the light from the flames, but they didn't bother us and we didn't bother them :)
The fire light did seem to attract the scorpions
Salt drying pools
Cactus - so many different sorts!
The beautiful sweeping anchorage of Isla San Francisco
A few days later, on our way to San Evaristo, we encountered a couple of problems. I suddenly became aware that our batteries were not being charged and the prop shaft developed a bit of a squeak from the cutless bearing. The charging turned out to be a minor issue with the regulator and was easily solved, but the squeak was weird.
The following morning, a prawn fishing boat was anchored in the bay. We rowed over and asked if we could buy some prawns from them, and they were quite happy to sell us a kilo without heads. A feast was in store – there is very little as good as prawns straight off the boat. I cooked them in olive oil with lots of garlic. Heaven :-) We weren't the only ones to be excited by the sight of a prawn boat at anchor though. Every prawn boat we saw (and we saw quite a few) had its rigging completely full of frigate birds eagerly waiting for an opportunity, or a prawn beheading session.
The following morning, a prawn fishing boat was anchored in the bay. We rowed over and asked if we could buy some prawns from them, and they were quite happy to sell us a kilo without heads. A feast was in store – there is very little as good as prawns straight off the boat. I cooked them in olive oil with lots of garlic. Heaven :-) We weren't the only ones to be excited by the sight of a prawn boat at anchor though. Every prawn boat we saw (and we saw quite a few) had its rigging completely full of frigate birds eagerly waiting for an opportunity, or a prawn beheading session.
We weren't the only ones to be excited by the sight of a prawn boat
A windless motor brought us to Puerto Los Gatos on the 10th of March, and the next day started in similar fashion as we headed to Bahia Agua Verde. However, the wind picked up as we passed Arrreife San Marcial and we then had an excellent sail into Agua Verde. We chose to anchor in a small bight near a reef, for its snorkelling potential. It did seem though that Agua Verde was a bit of a misnomer and that Agua Marrón might have been a more fitting name!
We stayed there for the best part of a week, enjoying the snorkelling, which was indeed very good, and taking walks ashore. There was a small shop in the village there, and the village itself was quite a delight with chickens and pigs running around free-range. One morning, we had the treat of watching a pod of dolphins hunting in the bay, clearly working as a team to herd their prey into a bait ball before hurtling through it to feed. I remember being very tempted to try jumping in to swim with them, but refrained, which I'm inclined to feel, was a wise decision :)
Despite this being March in Mexico, the mornings could be quite chilly and we were glad of the Dickinson diesel stove. It was quite a ritual to wake up in the morning, light the stove, put the kettle and a pot of porridge on and then snuggle back down for half an hour while the stove did its thing, making breakfast and warming the cabin. I remember the decks being iced on some mornings as we were swinging gently to anchor in Agua Verde!
We used the calm of the anchorage in Agua Verde to work on a project that was becoming necessary. Yes, the mornings were chilly, but the midday sun was getting to be really quite strong and we felt the growing need for shade in the cockpit. We had been carrying some stainless tube frames that I had pulled out of a skip somewhere previously, and we had bought a quantity of canvas cloth. It was time to make a bimini. We also had an old electric Singer sewing machine on board, unfortunately however, what we didn't have was electricity of the required voltage or alternating nature! We sewed the bimini with Karin doing all of the skilled sewing work and me providing the drive by sticking my finger in a hole in the wheel that the belt from the motor runs on and rotating it as rapidly as possible. As this involved a significant amount of sewing, it was quite a strain on my poor ol' finger!
The finished bimini was splendid! I cut the stainless frames to fit, joining them with some pieces of smaller diameter tubing and pop riveting them together - drilling the holes with a little Fiskars hand drill that I had on board. The canvas had pockets that the stainless tubes slid into; the section above the companionway hatch and the forward end of the cockpit was fixed and could remain in place when we were sailing. The section that covered the aft end of the cockpit could be rolled up and secured in a bundle with neat tapes when underway, or rolled out and fixed to a removable stainless frame when moored. We painted the canvas with some of that silicon waterproofing stuff and all was well!
We stayed there for the best part of a week, enjoying the snorkelling, which was indeed very good, and taking walks ashore. There was a small shop in the village there, and the village itself was quite a delight with chickens and pigs running around free-range. One morning, we had the treat of watching a pod of dolphins hunting in the bay, clearly working as a team to herd their prey into a bait ball before hurtling through it to feed. I remember being very tempted to try jumping in to swim with them, but refrained, which I'm inclined to feel, was a wise decision :)
Despite this being March in Mexico, the mornings could be quite chilly and we were glad of the Dickinson diesel stove. It was quite a ritual to wake up in the morning, light the stove, put the kettle and a pot of porridge on and then snuggle back down for half an hour while the stove did its thing, making breakfast and warming the cabin. I remember the decks being iced on some mornings as we were swinging gently to anchor in Agua Verde!
We used the calm of the anchorage in Agua Verde to work on a project that was becoming necessary. Yes, the mornings were chilly, but the midday sun was getting to be really quite strong and we felt the growing need for shade in the cockpit. We had been carrying some stainless tube frames that I had pulled out of a skip somewhere previously, and we had bought a quantity of canvas cloth. It was time to make a bimini. We also had an old electric Singer sewing machine on board, unfortunately however, what we didn't have was electricity of the required voltage or alternating nature! We sewed the bimini with Karin doing all of the skilled sewing work and me providing the drive by sticking my finger in a hole in the wheel that the belt from the motor runs on and rotating it as rapidly as possible. As this involved a significant amount of sewing, it was quite a strain on my poor ol' finger!
The finished bimini was splendid! I cut the stainless frames to fit, joining them with some pieces of smaller diameter tubing and pop riveting them together - drilling the holes with a little Fiskars hand drill that I had on board. The canvas had pockets that the stainless tubes slid into; the section above the companionway hatch and the forward end of the cockpit was fixed and could remain in place when we were sailing. The section that covered the aft end of the cockpit could be rolled up and secured in a bundle with neat tapes when underway, or rolled out and fixed to a removable stainless frame when moored. We painted the canvas with some of that silicon waterproofing stuff and all was well!
Agua Verde wildlife
The view out from the anchorage
Anyhow, we were heading North up into the Sea of Cortez and it was time to move on again. The next sail was just a short 4 hour hop up to a small bay south of Punta Candeleros. The only real event of this trip was that, as we were reversing the anchor in (on arrival), the propellor shaft came adrift of the coupling on the back of the gearbox. The coupling had been damaged but I refitted the shaft as best I could. Hopefully it would be ok!
The next day, we were underway again in strong gusty winds and medium seas for a thankfully short 3 hour trip up to Puerto Escondido, where an abandoned attempt at building a marina set a bit of an eerie scene. However, the water tap was still functioning and we were able to fill our tanks and jerry cans. On a walk ashore, we stopped to enjoy a small group of Mexican cowboys herding some horses through the abandoned marina yard in a scene straight out of a spaghetti western (well apart from the abandoned marina setting, of course. - I don't remember one with Clint trotting nonchalantly through lampposts and overgrown concrete walkways!).
The next day, we were underway again in strong gusty winds and medium seas for a thankfully short 3 hour trip up to Puerto Escondido, where an abandoned attempt at building a marina set a bit of an eerie scene. However, the water tap was still functioning and we were able to fill our tanks and jerry cans. On a walk ashore, we stopped to enjoy a small group of Mexican cowboys herding some horses through the abandoned marina yard in a scene straight out of a spaghetti western (well apart from the abandoned marina setting, of course. - I don't remember one with Clint trotting nonchalantly through lampposts and overgrown concrete walkways!).
Rounding up horses in the abandoned marina
We had heard that the marina at San Carlos was a good place to haul out and leave the boat for the coming hurricane season and it was our intention to do just that before the end of April, so with the water tanks full and the batteries low, we raised anchor at 07:00 on 29th March and continued our northing, this time alone – we had been buddy boating with SV Honeyslide ever since shortly after leaving La Paz. We spotted a pod of whales feeding off of Isla Danzante and we headed nearer to watch for a while and then motorsailed up to Puerto Ballandra on Isla Carmen.
An inspection of the prop shaft the next morning didn’t look too good and we had serious doubts that it would last until San Carlos if we continued using the motor very much at all. We considered returning to La Paz for repairs and hurricane season haul out, but decided to head on and try to minimise our motor use. So, at 10:30 we sailed out of the little bay and headed up to Isla Coronados where we anchored in its lee. The wind built gradually as the day progressed and we had a good windward sail.
The wind continued to build and our island lee location was not offering the desired shelter, so at 22:00 we raised anchor again and continued on our way in 20 knots of wind and white caps all around. We made good way until the wind dropped to nothing around 02:00. However, with the rising of the moon a westerly sprang up and gave us another 2 hours of good sailing. In the pre-dawn hours, we were totally becalmed again and spent some 3 hours hoping for a puff of air and going nowhere much. I’d forgotten that we had the fishing line out, but as we were becalmed, the weighted lure obviously sank straight down and I was surprised by the sound of the fishing rod jumping up and down. In the pitch dark (the moon had already set again), I reeled in and got the shock of my life when something flew by my ear and splattered on the cabin top. I grabbed a torch and pulled the sea monster in; it was a large squid that presumably had squirted a jet of water at its captor. Sadly for it, it fed us for the next two days.
The morning brought us 20 knots of wind from the northwest and we set about beating into it and its associated lumpy seas until we finally fired up the motor to take us into our anchorage at Caleta San Juanico. This was a tight little anchorage with several boats already holed up there, but the rocks and reef there offered decent protection if one tucked right in behind them. We went ashore to explore; there was a really cool cruisers' "shrine" of a tree with mementoes from all sorts of boats that had passed this way.
An inspection of the prop shaft the next morning didn’t look too good and we had serious doubts that it would last until San Carlos if we continued using the motor very much at all. We considered returning to La Paz for repairs and hurricane season haul out, but decided to head on and try to minimise our motor use. So, at 10:30 we sailed out of the little bay and headed up to Isla Coronados where we anchored in its lee. The wind built gradually as the day progressed and we had a good windward sail.
The wind continued to build and our island lee location was not offering the desired shelter, so at 22:00 we raised anchor again and continued on our way in 20 knots of wind and white caps all around. We made good way until the wind dropped to nothing around 02:00. However, with the rising of the moon a westerly sprang up and gave us another 2 hours of good sailing. In the pre-dawn hours, we were totally becalmed again and spent some 3 hours hoping for a puff of air and going nowhere much. I’d forgotten that we had the fishing line out, but as we were becalmed, the weighted lure obviously sank straight down and I was surprised by the sound of the fishing rod jumping up and down. In the pitch dark (the moon had already set again), I reeled in and got the shock of my life when something flew by my ear and splattered on the cabin top. I grabbed a torch and pulled the sea monster in; it was a large squid that presumably had squirted a jet of water at its captor. Sadly for it, it fed us for the next two days.
The morning brought us 20 knots of wind from the northwest and we set about beating into it and its associated lumpy seas until we finally fired up the motor to take us into our anchorage at Caleta San Juanico. This was a tight little anchorage with several boats already holed up there, but the rocks and reef there offered decent protection if one tucked right in behind them. We went ashore to explore; there was a really cool cruisers' "shrine" of a tree with mementoes from all sorts of boats that had passed this way.
Karin; Caleta San Juanico; wearing a self-made outfit that was the result of another of our teamwork sewing ordeals!
The cruisers' "shrine"
Now is all the time you'll own
And no man knows the hour
Just when the clock of life will stop
At late or early hour
The future's just a dream of hope
The past a distant link
Go cruising now my brother
It's later than you think
(adapted from Robert H Smith, my research suggests!)
And no man knows the hour
Just when the clock of life will stop
At late or early hour
The future's just a dream of hope
The past a distant link
Go cruising now my brother
It's later than you think
(adapted from Robert H Smith, my research suggests!)
Never a truer word!
We relaxed there for a few days and then it was time to move on in the direction of the very impressive looking (in the guide book) Bahia Concepcion. We sailed out of the little bay in light airs with the main and our ghoster up, passing Punta Pulpito at 09:00 on main alone, with the wind building from the west. We could clearly see rain squalls to the west of us and heading our way. These duly arrived and we took a reef and continued on our way towards Punta San Teresa. The rain stopped and we were back to sailing on a full main when we were hit by an almighty gust just after clearing Punta San Teresa, which had me rapidly scrambling to let go of the halyard and drop the sail. I’m not really sure how the mast survived that, but am certainly thankful it did (Miss Molly I had a grown mast – essentially a straight tree trunk – which had significant shakes in it. I’ve often heard it claimed that the shakes don’t significantly weaken a mast, and after this, I think I believe it!).
Shortly after this scare, the fishing rod started doing its thing and we reeled in a decent sized barracuda, whilst continuing on our way with one reef permanently in now! By early afternoon, the wind was gusty and unsteady and steering involved constant attention. And by 15:00, it became quite clear that we wouldn’t make it to Bahia Concepcion by nightfall – which had been our intention – I’m no fan of arriving in unknown anchorages at night. By nightfall, we were two miles off Punta Concepcion and could see several prawn fishing boats at work. We beat a long and slow, careful route around the point in diminishing winds. Using our handheld GPS, we headed straight down the middle of the channel into the entrance of Bahia Concepcion, checking our position on the chart every 10 mins or so. When the charted position indicated we were entering shallow water, I started swinging the lead line, the reading of which corresponded exactly with what the GPS/chart told us to expect. When the 8m mark came up exactly on cue, I eased the sheet, dropped the hook and made everything tidy. It wasn’t the perfect anchorage, but it’d do for a short night at least. Early the next morning, we sailed in to Bahia Concepcion proper, anchoring in the northeast bight of Bahia Coyote.
Shortly after this scare, the fishing rod started doing its thing and we reeled in a decent sized barracuda, whilst continuing on our way with one reef permanently in now! By early afternoon, the wind was gusty and unsteady and steering involved constant attention. And by 15:00, it became quite clear that we wouldn’t make it to Bahia Concepcion by nightfall – which had been our intention – I’m no fan of arriving in unknown anchorages at night. By nightfall, we were two miles off Punta Concepcion and could see several prawn fishing boats at work. We beat a long and slow, careful route around the point in diminishing winds. Using our handheld GPS, we headed straight down the middle of the channel into the entrance of Bahia Concepcion, checking our position on the chart every 10 mins or so. When the charted position indicated we were entering shallow water, I started swinging the lead line, the reading of which corresponded exactly with what the GPS/chart told us to expect. When the 8m mark came up exactly on cue, I eased the sheet, dropped the hook and made everything tidy. It wasn’t the perfect anchorage, but it’d do for a short night at least. Early the next morning, we sailed in to Bahia Concepcion proper, anchoring in the northeast bight of Bahia Coyote.
Beautiful Bahia Concepcion :)
We spent the next 6 days in Bahia Conception, moving anchorage a couple of times to get a different perspective. It was a delightful spot – well protected and very calm. There was a small community of US Americans living on the beach there and it was all very friendly and pleasant. We did witness the very sad spectacle of one of the beach-front properties catching fire and basically burning to the ground - as it was a wood construction with reed roof, which was all very dry, this didn't take long. Nobody was hurt in this incident, but there was a complete loss of property.
Time was moving on (it has that tendency!) and we needed to move on. On 10th April, we ghosted once more out of the bay entrance. By midday, we were motorsailing and this continued all the way to our anchorage behind Punta Santa Luez. Luckily, the prop shaft coupling seemed to be hanging in there!
We sailed off the anchor the next day and continued in light airs with the ghoster up, up to an anchorage south of Isla San Marcos. We’d barely settled in when “SV Somewhere” arrived in the anchorage and we mutually agreed to head around to an anchorage off a gypsum quarry on the west side of the island. Unfortunately, when trying, perhaps unwisely, to pass betwwen the southwest tip of the island and a group of rocks called “Rocas Lobos”, “Somewhere” ran firmly aground. We circled and dropped the hook nearby in order to be able to help winch (pull) them off, but in that time, Phil had rowed out in his dinghy, set a kedge anchor, and with full engine power and much heaving, managed to get themselves over the shallows and afloat again. Underway again, we made such good progress that we decided to continue all the way to Santa Rosalia, one of the bigger towns on the Baja peninsula. Soon after making that decision, the wind duly dropped and, as we were basically alongside the gypsum quarry, we returned to the idea of anchoring there. All plans are cast in Jello!
Time was moving on (it has that tendency!) and we needed to move on. On 10th April, we ghosted once more out of the bay entrance. By midday, we were motorsailing and this continued all the way to our anchorage behind Punta Santa Luez. Luckily, the prop shaft coupling seemed to be hanging in there!
We sailed off the anchor the next day and continued in light airs with the ghoster up, up to an anchorage south of Isla San Marcos. We’d barely settled in when “SV Somewhere” arrived in the anchorage and we mutually agreed to head around to an anchorage off a gypsum quarry on the west side of the island. Unfortunately, when trying, perhaps unwisely, to pass betwwen the southwest tip of the island and a group of rocks called “Rocas Lobos”, “Somewhere” ran firmly aground. We circled and dropped the hook nearby in order to be able to help winch (pull) them off, but in that time, Phil had rowed out in his dinghy, set a kedge anchor, and with full engine power and much heaving, managed to get themselves over the shallows and afloat again. Underway again, we made such good progress that we decided to continue all the way to Santa Rosalia, one of the bigger towns on the Baja peninsula. Soon after making that decision, the wind duly dropped and, as we were basically alongside the gypsum quarry, we returned to the idea of anchoring there. All plans are cast in Jello!
Gypsum. It's not all natural beauty!
The next day, despite the best of our efforts to make progress under sail, we simply had to concede that there was essentially no wind, and motored up to Santa Rosalia, arriving after a 4 hour motor in the delightful, fairly derelict, small industrial harbour. We anchored in the middle of the harbour and went ashore for a poke around the town, which was what I shall describe as a real Mexican town, with shops and a few eating out options. Outstanding!
Santa Rosalia harbour
By now, it was mid April and was time for us to make the jump across to the other side of the Sea of Cortez – to the mainland; in particular, to San Carlos, where we planned to haul out and leave Miss Molly I for the coming hurricane season. The prop shaft was a concern and the winds were often light, but we had to do it.
At 07:30 on 16th April, we raised the anchor and motored out of the harbour of Santa Rosalia, setting a course of 062° T. There was no wind. At 11:30, the merest breath of a northerly could be perceived, and by 14:30 we had just enough breeze to shut the motor down and sail. By 17:30, we had raised the ghoster to try to make the most of the diminishing breeze, and by 18:00, we were back to motoring in absolute calm. We managed another hour of sail propulsion between 22:00 and 23:00, but after that, we were motoring again, and this all on a prop shaft that was basically being held together by a piece of thick rubber that I’d wrapped around it, securing one end to the shaft coupling and the other end to the shaft itself with jubilee hose clamps!
We motored on through the night and first light brought us a clear view of the Mexican mainland coast. We turned southeast and motored on to the San Carlos bay, passing the landmark “Tetas de Cabra” (Goat Tit Hill). Just as we were passing some iffy-looking rocky shallows in San Carlos bay, the prop shaft coupling gave out. I quickly scrambled below and reclipped the lash up and we motored slowly in, anchoring alongside our old friends on “Honeyslide” in 23ft of water at about 08:30.
At 07:30 on 16th April, we raised the anchor and motored out of the harbour of Santa Rosalia, setting a course of 062° T. There was no wind. At 11:30, the merest breath of a northerly could be perceived, and by 14:30 we had just enough breeze to shut the motor down and sail. By 17:30, we had raised the ghoster to try to make the most of the diminishing breeze, and by 18:00, we were back to motoring in absolute calm. We managed another hour of sail propulsion between 22:00 and 23:00, but after that, we were motoring again, and this all on a prop shaft that was basically being held together by a piece of thick rubber that I’d wrapped around it, securing one end to the shaft coupling and the other end to the shaft itself with jubilee hose clamps!
We motored on through the night and first light brought us a clear view of the Mexican mainland coast. We turned southeast and motored on to the San Carlos bay, passing the landmark “Tetas de Cabra” (Goat Tit Hill). Just as we were passing some iffy-looking rocky shallows in San Carlos bay, the prop shaft coupling gave out. I quickly scrambled below and reclipped the lash up and we motored slowly in, anchoring alongside our old friends on “Honeyslide” in 23ft of water at about 08:30.
Goat Tit Hill
We stayed at anchor there for 10 days, during which we arranged the haul out with the wonderfully professional marina people at Marina San Carlos. One day, our friends Michelle and Andreas on “Honeyslide” invited us out for a day sail on their boat and we had a great sail and were treated to the most amazing sight of hundreds of dolphins hunting and feeding, with flocks of pelicans and other sea birds picking up the scraps. It was a real feeding frenzy!
Feeding frenzy
Looking chilled on "Honeyslide"
On 27th April, we took a slip in the marina to prepare for the haul out and on 29th we were lifted out and trucked to the dry storage yard.
We're on the road again!
The temperatures were getting quite hot now, Karin was some 5 months into her pregnancy and it was basically getting towards time for us to get outta there. Apart from getting the boat ready for being left in Mexican conditions for what would probably be 9 – 10 months or so, there was one last thing to do. Our friends on “Somewhere” had somehow managed to sell their boat to a Mexican gentleman – this is no mean achievement; the market for sailboats in Mexico is basically non-existent, and I’m not even sure that foreigners are legally allowed to sell property (although, I can’t really imagine why not!). However, the new capitan was no sailor and he lived in Mazatlan and wanted to move the boat down there. Phil and Val had already booked their flights to leave, so they were all looking for someone to help sail the boat the 400 miles or so down to Mazatlan. I volunteered.
We set off – the new capitan and I – early(ish) in the morning with full tanks of gas and water and enough provisions for the two of us. “Somewhere” had an Atomic 4 gasoline (petrol) powered engine as auxiliary propulsion, but as the new owner didn’t know anything about sailing, it became the main propulsion source. He gunned it out of the bay and turned left. The fuel tank had a sight gauge that indicated the fuel level if you lifted the bunk board to reveal it. After one day, I checked and we were down to ½ a tank. I had already suggested that perhaps full power might not be the best approach, but now I did actually succeed in convincing him that we should slow down a little bit – we still had ¾ of the journey to go! Even running at a more conservative engine speed, it was already obvious that we wouldn’t make it on engine power alone. Unfortunately, there was very little indeed in the way of wind.
The “skipper” used his mobile phone to telephone ashore and then informed me he had arranged for a friend to meet us with a pick up truck and a quantity of fuel jugs. The meeting place was somewhere in one of the many shallow lagoons that lie down that coast; lagoons that have nasty sand bars across their entrances. I was less that thrilled! The day of our arranged meet dawned and it was a typical Mexican early summer day – windless and hot with a cloudless sky – and I just knew! With absolute confidence, I told the skipper all would be well; the onshore breeze would start to blow at 2pm. We motored on, on almost the last of our fuel, through the morning, and then, bang on cue, at 2pm the air started to move. We rolled out the fore sail and I poled it out and we flew forwards, entering the walled harbour of Mazatlan around 6pm and then finally motored on the last dregs of our fuel into the lovely protected marina, where the new owner dealt with the clearing in formalities and I kept a low profile. That evening, I took the bus back up to San Carlos, Karin and Miss Molly.
And that was that. We readied Miss Molly for storage and took the bus up to Tijuana in order to cross back into the US. Barbara and Scott had offered to put us up for a few days in Half Moon Bay, California while we got tickets to fly back to Germany.
On the bus up to Tijuana, I’d been holding my passport pouch and, as I wanted to sleep, I’d slid it under my posterior on the seat. We arrived in the delightful Tijuana bus depot in the early evening and we left the bus. Just as my feet hit the asphalt, I realised I’d left my passport pouch on the seat in the bus. I rushed back in as soon as the disembarking people allowed, and, it was gone! My passport, all of my cash and about $1000 in travellers’ cheques, along with my radio operator’s licence and some other minor pieces of paperwork. My head swam with the shock. I leant against a wall unable to even think! What to do? It took a while to get back on my feet. We decided to go up to the US border and talk to the officials there to see if they could help us.
This was back I the days of the old blue British passport and luckily, and for no particular reason, I could remember the (very short) number of my passport. At the border, we explained our situation to the guard, told him we had friends in Half Moon Bay where we could stay, told him we’d been in the US some 6 months previously and I told him my remembered passport number. After checking the computer database, he replied that, if we returned to the Tijuana bus depot and bought a Greyhound bus ticket to Half Moon Bay, we would be allowed to enter the US. Luckily, Karin had a bit of money. We got the bus tickets and returned to the border. Our helpful guard had by now finished his shift and gone home and the new guard was less than convinced of this whole story, but, somehow, eventually, he let us through and we boarded the Greyhound.
Back in Half Moon Bay, Barbara and Scott looked after us in their usual fantastic fashion. I contacted the British consulate and, a week or so later, had a new passport. American Express replaced the traveller’s cheques without any issue, so, all in all, it turned out to not be a major catastrophe! Years later, the Canadian authorities even replaced my Canadian radio operator’s licence!
Barbara put us on to a doctor who was offering free consultations for people with no health insurance, and the check up showed the pregnancy was progressing nicely. In terms of the pregnancy, the final possibility to fly back to Europe was nearing. Barbara offered to arrange health insurance for us so we could stay in the States and Elizabeth (as she came to be) would have the automatic US citizenship that comes with being born in the USA (could be a song there somewhere!). But despite all of this unbelievable kindness, we decided to fly to Germany, and that’s where this chapter ends!
We set off – the new capitan and I – early(ish) in the morning with full tanks of gas and water and enough provisions for the two of us. “Somewhere” had an Atomic 4 gasoline (petrol) powered engine as auxiliary propulsion, but as the new owner didn’t know anything about sailing, it became the main propulsion source. He gunned it out of the bay and turned left. The fuel tank had a sight gauge that indicated the fuel level if you lifted the bunk board to reveal it. After one day, I checked and we were down to ½ a tank. I had already suggested that perhaps full power might not be the best approach, but now I did actually succeed in convincing him that we should slow down a little bit – we still had ¾ of the journey to go! Even running at a more conservative engine speed, it was already obvious that we wouldn’t make it on engine power alone. Unfortunately, there was very little indeed in the way of wind.
The “skipper” used his mobile phone to telephone ashore and then informed me he had arranged for a friend to meet us with a pick up truck and a quantity of fuel jugs. The meeting place was somewhere in one of the many shallow lagoons that lie down that coast; lagoons that have nasty sand bars across their entrances. I was less that thrilled! The day of our arranged meet dawned and it was a typical Mexican early summer day – windless and hot with a cloudless sky – and I just knew! With absolute confidence, I told the skipper all would be well; the onshore breeze would start to blow at 2pm. We motored on, on almost the last of our fuel, through the morning, and then, bang on cue, at 2pm the air started to move. We rolled out the fore sail and I poled it out and we flew forwards, entering the walled harbour of Mazatlan around 6pm and then finally motored on the last dregs of our fuel into the lovely protected marina, where the new owner dealt with the clearing in formalities and I kept a low profile. That evening, I took the bus back up to San Carlos, Karin and Miss Molly.
And that was that. We readied Miss Molly for storage and took the bus up to Tijuana in order to cross back into the US. Barbara and Scott had offered to put us up for a few days in Half Moon Bay, California while we got tickets to fly back to Germany.
On the bus up to Tijuana, I’d been holding my passport pouch and, as I wanted to sleep, I’d slid it under my posterior on the seat. We arrived in the delightful Tijuana bus depot in the early evening and we left the bus. Just as my feet hit the asphalt, I realised I’d left my passport pouch on the seat in the bus. I rushed back in as soon as the disembarking people allowed, and, it was gone! My passport, all of my cash and about $1000 in travellers’ cheques, along with my radio operator’s licence and some other minor pieces of paperwork. My head swam with the shock. I leant against a wall unable to even think! What to do? It took a while to get back on my feet. We decided to go up to the US border and talk to the officials there to see if they could help us.
This was back I the days of the old blue British passport and luckily, and for no particular reason, I could remember the (very short) number of my passport. At the border, we explained our situation to the guard, told him we had friends in Half Moon Bay where we could stay, told him we’d been in the US some 6 months previously and I told him my remembered passport number. After checking the computer database, he replied that, if we returned to the Tijuana bus depot and bought a Greyhound bus ticket to Half Moon Bay, we would be allowed to enter the US. Luckily, Karin had a bit of money. We got the bus tickets and returned to the border. Our helpful guard had by now finished his shift and gone home and the new guard was less than convinced of this whole story, but, somehow, eventually, he let us through and we boarded the Greyhound.
Back in Half Moon Bay, Barbara and Scott looked after us in their usual fantastic fashion. I contacted the British consulate and, a week or so later, had a new passport. American Express replaced the traveller’s cheques without any issue, so, all in all, it turned out to not be a major catastrophe! Years later, the Canadian authorities even replaced my Canadian radio operator’s licence!
Barbara put us on to a doctor who was offering free consultations for people with no health insurance, and the check up showed the pregnancy was progressing nicely. In terms of the pregnancy, the final possibility to fly back to Europe was nearing. Barbara offered to arrange health insurance for us so we could stay in the States and Elizabeth (as she came to be) would have the automatic US citizenship that comes with being born in the USA (could be a song there somewhere!). But despite all of this unbelievable kindness, we decided to fly to Germany, and that’s where this chapter ends!
