|
My Church |
My Bamboo Book |
My Audio Store |
Larry's Home |
Gullman Home |
|
|
|
|
||||||
| | ||||||||
The 2008 sailing trip started with all the normal excitement. We took off Sunday afternoon and spent our first night in Chino at Julie's friend Linda's house. A late dinner, early breakfast and we were off.
We drove 30 hours non-stop and arrived in La Paz around 9:30. Seems we just missed high tide, so could not launch the boat until 6 PM. We spent the day food shopping, buying a new battery, filling the propane tank, etc. We arrived back to the marina at 4 but oh my, the office closes at 3 and the staff have all gone home. So much for launching at 6. Next high tide is 8 AM so we climb the ladder and get the boat all shipshape and spend our first night on board in a storage yard. Very strange feeling.
We are up early and ready. Jonathan has had a haircut, I checked email and now we watch as our boat is picked up and dropped in the water. Quite a show. THe day was perfect. About 80 degrees but a brisk 15 to 20 knots of wind kicking up white caps and 3 to 5 foot wind waves kept the spray flying and kept us almost chilly. We shot out of La Paz and half way across the bay for our first tack. As we quartered the waves, the bow rose and plunged sending spray flying and David below decks to lay down. About an hour out we tacked back, heading for the cove by mushroom rock. We ran 6 to 8 knots with reefed sails. Roger cut up a fresh Papaya on deck and he and I enjoyed it. Nobody else liked it. It seemed to be the cure for seasickness as we were both fine. Julie was sick first, then David came shooting from his cabin. Jonathan just lay on deck looking dead. We arrived and anchored in a quiet cove. All recovered and we got the dinky in the water, had a swim and bought a nice snapper from the fishermen nearby. As the wind died and the sun set, it ended a perfect day for me. Plans for tomorrow? Who knows.
The boat was in surprisingly good shape. All systems seemed to work, all rigging was OK, but a year on shore really has aged the boat. The sun is the enemy. The shiny finishes are now dull, the stainless, a little rusty and colors a little faded. Seems to be some kind of leak, with the bilge pump running every few hours but we have been unable to find it so far. Some joint must have dried out.
The following days we hopped from cove-to-cove on the outlying islands north of La Paz. The water is crystal clear, and the sandy bottom gives that perfect turquoise color, and each cove is surrounded by towering volcanic cliffs of red, orange, grey and black. The protection is superb, with almost no boat motion. We swam and fished, and Jonathan, Roger and I hiked to the top of one of the volcanic cones. The land seemed totally devoid of life. Then we saw a nibbled off branch on the spotty desert plants. Then some droppings - rabbit like I think. More hiking and then something moved from bush-to-bush. What on earth? It was big. Seemed to have very long legs and long ears. Too tall for a rabbit, too rabbit like for goat or sheep. We tracked him during the rest of our hike to the top but did not see him well, just a flitting movement. Sitting on the peak enjoying the cool breeze and breathtaking views, I reflected on what an odd thing knowledge was. We were finding great pleasure in trying to figure out what this creature was. If we had studied and learned all things about the area, I am sure we would know, and the pleasure would be minimal. But we were delving into the unknown, and a mystery, even one of little consequence was exciting and fun. We worked our way back over the ridge and split up as we approached the place we lost him before. Jonathan had the camera ready to record this amazing find. He broke cover and hopped away. Yes, a rabbit - not as big as he seemed when he first surprised us, but with quite long legs and very long ears. How did rabbits end up on this small island?
Check out this interesting plant we saw on the hike. Looks like a big dead bush but has just one flower. None of the other bushes of the same time were in bloom. Just this one. Very cautious species have found these harsh desert islands a safe haven. Little risked, little gained, but still alive.
We have enjoyed these beautiful islands but find them a bit crowded. Tour boats from La Paz visit daily with divers and sightseers. Kayakers are hauled in daily, along with various pleasure boats. It is rare to find a cove to yourself. Time to move north.
We sailed further North and found the islands of San Francisco and San Jose to be very nice. Still quite a few boats around. I learned that the San Francisco Ba-Ha-Ha regatta just finished in Cabo with 150 boats all spreading out exploring these islands. No wonder we are seeing so much traffic.
Our days have fallen into a bit of a pattern. The mornings are almost always still and warm with the seas dead calm. A morning swim is very nice. Each day brings a different amount of wind, from a still day, to a stiff winds all day. Based on the wind we either sail or swim and snorkel. Yesterday was different. We stopped at a fish camp and bought some sting ray meat. David fried it up with way too much "Meat Seasoning". It was so salty we almost could not get it down, but made the effort and were all totally stuffed for the first time on this trip. The fishing has been pretty poor and we generally get just enough for a small helping. This treat was a great start to the day. As swimming was next, I determined to stop the water from leaking in around my mask by shaving clean. It was such a sight it inspired David to as well. Who would have thought such a simple act could provide such entertainment. Davids beard was about 4 or 5 inches long, and it came off in one piece. Over the side it stood like an island, drifting off without sinking. It was quite a sight. The rest of the day, from time to time, I would find all four kids in hysterics, just looking at me and bent double with laughter. I have not been without the mustache and goatee since our first sailing trip in the mid 90s.
Round about sunset, the wind had picked up and it looked like our anchorage would get pretty bumpy. It was such a perfect evening, we pulled up the anchor and sailed across the bay to anchor closer to lea of the sand bar. What a great run. The sky streaked with orange, the wind steady at 12 knots, the sea almost smooth and the air about 80 degrees. As we anchored the clear sky was full of stars. What a great day. We end each day with a game of scrabble. It is always a lively game, and last night Roger won. Then to bed and a little reading. The wind dies down at night and the boat settles down. All you hear is the gentle lapping of water.
Tuesday morning started quick with another beautiful day and a nice wind just picking up after breakfast. We moved out and sailed to the first settlement, Punta Evaristo, we have come across since leaving La Paz. A perfect sail with a stiff breeze brought us to town in just a hour or so. The town is nestled in a tiny bay surrounded by huge rocky peaks. As we approached the wind was picking up as it was deflected around the rock cliffs. Bang, we saw some flying fish and the next thing Julie sees is the line with the squid lure way off the the side, instead of behind. As every time we catch something nice, it is total confusion. Get the jib in - bring the fish in - where is the gaff hook. Ten minutes later, a nice Doroto (Mai-mai) has been landed and we are pulling into the little bay. The settlement is less than a dozen little houses and is very quiet. We find the store and restock.
We enjoy another fish feast and sail the rest of the day north, anchoring in a small cove surrounded by soaring cliffs. Small settlements are tucked into the gaps in the mountains with no roads inland. All access is by beach landing and although conditions are primitive, the beauty of the place is unbelievable. We hike to the top of a cliff for pictures. Tomorrow we take off to cross the gulf and explore the mainland coast.
We left our anchorage early but the wind just did not come. We drifted along past the end of San Jose Island, San Diego and Santa Cruz Island. How very odd that the day before we saw San Francisco Island. Spanish explorers seem to have had a limited reprotrar. Just past the islands we found ourselves in the middle of a school or pod of something! Kind of whale like in movement, but perhaps dolphin like in form, but bigger. Maybe 12 or 15 feet long with a big bump on top of their heads. Such fun. Finally the wind picked up about 1 and we had steady wind all afternoon and all night. We reached the coast by morning and were in port Topolobampo by lunch, a nice tuna spaghetti made with a small tuna we caught on the way over. It was a wonderful night with every splash off the bow creating a christmas tree of small green lights. The phosphorescent algae is quite remarkable. With every agitation is glows brightly like little LEDs. I had forgotten how intense the stars are at sea, with a shooting stare every few minutes. My glasses are certainly a curse at night and I spent much of the night without them.
We traveled to Los Mochis to check out the train station and prepare for our trip up Copper Canyon. Checking email while on shore I found our friends had to leave unexpectedly on a medical emergency and our great expedition was canceled. I am pretty much lost without a "mission". I am not interested in a day long train trip to see the most spectacular canyon in the world, look around and travel back. I am a terrible tourist. I would rather hike around locally. So we have cancelled the trip, and expect to shop a little tomorrow and head back to the Baja side.
We spent another day looking around Tobolombamo. This is the home to a significant shrimp industry, and we bought a big bag of prawn sized shrimp for 100 pesos. They were fantastic. THe biggest difference we saw on this side of the gulf was the humidity. 80 to 90 percent seemed typical were 30 percent is more the norm on the Baja side. This makes a huge difference as everything on the boat started to feel wet. At night, every surface just dripped water. The wheel would be wet, my hands wet and when I looked down, little droplets would have formed on the tips of the hairs on the back of my hand. Of coarse glasses require windshield wipers. Topo was a fun town, with plenty of activity. The port was being expanded, there is excellent farmland all round plus the fishing trade. We visited street markets, ate shrimp tostadas - but the shrimp was raw. Tasted good but we were all a little worried about side effects. We even found an ice cream shop.
The morning we left turned out to be one of those days with little wind and a calm sea. Topo lies well inland past many sand bars and marshes so it was a long haul out to sea. We stocked up on fresh shrimp and took off early in the morning. Once we hit open water we faced a different kind of sailing crisis. This kind of crisis may seem at first trivial but upon further reflection, I am sure the reader will see the seriousness of the situation.
Just a word of background about the plumbing found in a sail boat. In the older boats, like our last boat, the head (toilet) which of coarse is below the water line, is pumped out. Two options were provided, directly into the sea for use offshore and into a holding tank while in harbor. This system worked perfectly, but paranoid bureaucrats who know nothing about living on and maintaining a boat decided that someone may cheat and pump out in a harbor or marina so outlawed the direct connection and all black water must be pumped only into a holding tank, which is discharged only via a macerator pump, a pump which grinds up the contents. Of coarse these holding tanks were also provided with a discharge tube to deck where they can be pumped out at a convenient pump-out station found in all US marinas. Well all of this sound like a great idea until you are in the middle of nowhere and your macerator pump fails.
Such was our case as we reached the open sea. Our tank was full and needed to be dumped. Roger flipped on the switch, it started the motor and then it stopped. Nothing. Oh my we thought, I am sure there is some kind of bypass, for what could we do without a head 4 days sail from La Paz. We pulled up some cabin floor panels and took a look in the bilge. No, the pipe from the tank went straight to the pump which went strait to a through hole fitting in the bottom of the boat. The only other connections were the pump out line coming out the top of the tank to the deck and a small vent line also coming out the top to the deck. That was it. The only way to empty this tank was to pump it out or run the macerator pump.
We calmly reviewed our options. We could go to La Paz and hope to find a pump-out station. We had not seen one there but there was a possibility. There certainly was not one in Topo. Well La Paz was 4 days away and David was feeling a little funny about his shrimp tostada and Julie looked downright concerned. So this options was out. The only other options was to fix the pump. Well ok, we are a technical bunch, lets see, it occurred to me that Dr Who always reverses the polarity whenever something is not working right. For a change, not a bad idea. It is a 12v DC system and reversing the polarity of the power will reverse the pump direction and clear the obstruction blocking the pump. What a great idea. With much excitement we pulled out the diving pump and battery, used clip leads to create -12V and tapped it into the control switch. The pump just jumped a little but was still stalled. Very poor. OK, another idea Dr Who always likes - boost the power. We now added the extra 12v battery in series with the house battery and hit that pump with 24V instead of 12V. Twice the power should break it free. Again, nothing. We tried until the clip leads were smoking. That finished off any hope at all of just fixing it.
Back on deck under easy sail we continued to glide out to sea at about 3 knots. At this speed it would take about 50 hours continuous sailing to get back to La Paz. It was a dark moment as we again reviewed our options. It was clear we had but one coarse, we had to get that tank empty. We thought about a siphon hole in the deck fitting, but nobody thought much about sucking on the end to get the liquid flowing. Finally I got the idea of pressurizing the tank, thus forcing the contents up and out through the deck fitting. It could work, if the pump out tube went to the bottom of the tank and the tank, not made to hold pressure would hold up without rupturing. Just think about 20 gallons of raw sewerage pouring out into my cabin and filling the bilge. We might as well just sink the boat now and take to the dingy. But it was an idea. A test was in order. We rigged up a spare hose to the deck fitting and blew in air. Yes, we heard bubbling. It led to the bottom of the tank. Now to make it happen.
The key to this process would be to remove the vent hose from inside the bilge where it attached to the deck vent. We could attache this hose to our diving air compressor and pump air in the tank. We this fitting was in the most impossible location imaginable. So with clear purpose I sailed on as the crew emptied my cabin of all stuff and bedding. Then I went below and squeezed into the tiny space under the lazarette and wiggled up until I could just touch the fitting with my left hand. It was dark, smelly and about 90 degrees in this hole, with about 100 percent humidity. I loosened the pipe clamp but just could not pull the 1 inch hose off the barbed fitting. I had absolutely no leverage with my left arm fully extended. I pulled and pulled and finally, with a vision of using our little red deck bucket for the next week I gave a mighty pull and popped it off, my arm flying back ripping a great ribbon of skin off the back of my arm. I emerged triumphant. Jonathan had been digging through all our odd supplies and found the appropriate fittings to connect the vent hose to the air compressor.
With Julie below decks operating the pump and Jonathan below observing we were ready. David deserted us and had put on his swimming trunks and gone to the bows where he kept up a constant monologue, keeping all informed of the rugged scene unfolding on deck, and also ready to go overboard if anything ugly happened. THe pump was started and the pressure started to build. Nothing was happening and we all wondered what was going where. We stationed Roger at the head to make sure no reversal occurred on that front and we continued. Suddenly to the sound of David's enthusiastic description a revolting geyser of brown sewerage erupted out of the deck clean-out. It was working! 5 seconds later, it stopped. THe compressor kept running but nothing was flowing. The tank was bulging as the pressure built. Yikes, stop the pump! So it seemed the clean-out line was now clogged. So we sloshed clean sea water on the deck fitting and moved our air hose back to to it, pushing the clock back in the tank. Well, we got a system working, going back and forth until the tank level went down. Finally, we hit the bottom and the thick sludge was just slowly pushing out of the clean-out tube. Without any warning air blasted out the pipe spraying the vicinity with an evil brew. David shrieked in delight at such a revolting sight, but we nearby did not find it so amusing. We refilled the tank several times with fresh sea water and pressure jetted it out until it was clean and empty.
We thought about leaving it at that, but the idea of having to go through all this later was not acceptable, so we went below to fix the macerater, whatever the cost. Imagine the scene, Jonathan on one side, and me on the other bent over the bilge, crouched in the tight space of my cabin. By now the sun was up and I think it was a 120 degrees in the cabin with not a breath of air moving. We remove the hose from tank and caught the contents of the hose in a bucket. Oh my what a stench, it reminded me of the days of dirty diapers. I was afraid Jonathan would pass out but we stayed just barely conscious and worked on. I dug out a glob of toilet paper and put all back together and we were done. We dashed for deck and I jumped in, clothes and all.
An hour of cleanup, scrubbing the decks, baths in the sea and the washing of our clothes and we could then put the cabin back together, put all the tools away and get lunch on. What a workout. It would be dark in 3 hours. The day was spent, but disaster was diverted. All was back to normal but the boating rule was reinforced - no TP down the head!
THe next day we headed across and came across a school of manta rays. David and Jonathan were hanging off the bows trying to spear one, when we accidentally snagged one on our lure dragging behind the boat. What a battle getting that thing in the boat. It must have weighed about 50 pounds. And what do you know, it tasted like pork chops. What a surprise. That was followed by a 4 foot Dorado and a Tuna. We fired up the refrigerator, made our way to a great anchorage on the Baja side the next morning and are eating like kings.
The day involved a hike up the cliffs and a swim, followed by dinner and scrabble. The next day dawned clear and warm, with no breeze. A perfect day for snorkeling. Julie cooked pancakes for breakfast and we all bundled into the dingy and embarked on a snorkeling adventure. The beach was littered with huge boulders and the water calm around them. Now up to this time, neither David or Julie had done any snorkeling, but this time all were game. Julie had great concerns about all the fish, and David about the equipment - leaking masks, etc. We got Julie out the of the boat and sitting on a "sharp rock" that was "cutting her to ribbons" and got flippers, snorkel and mask in place. The screams, protests and misc outbursts continued even through the snorkel! But finally launched, she was off and touring. It was a great spot, with many colorful reef fish just mulling around. Afterword she maintained her opinion that she did not like snorkeling but I am sure glad she tried it.
In preparation for Thanksgiving we moved north to Bahia Agua Verde, a beautiful large bay with many small inlets surrounded by mountains. At the head of the bay is a small village were we can buy food. This has turned out to be quite an amazing place. Although without power or running water, the casa's are spread out more than normal and the town is neat and clean. There is an amazing abundance of livestock. We observed pigs, goats, chickens, cows and even TURKEYS running around loose. The town is on a flat sandy plain, with short wide spreading trees. The wide roads all converge in the town center where you find two churches, 2 schools, soccer field, basketball court and police station and of course the inevitable tienda (small store). The people were all very friendly, shouting a greeting across the road if they saw us. Most conspicuous was the absence of the men hanging around the beach or store. We were a bit concerned - what was going on here?
Later in the day, we found out. We met another cruiser in a fabulous 1930s schooner rigged 50 footer. He had been around here for months, and explained that the women in town had had enough of the drinking and banned all alcohol from the town. What a difference it had made. Well we talked with some fishermen and made plans to have lobster and scallops delivered on Thanksgiving, maybe. We hiked and snorkeled finished up Thanksgiving eve with Julie's fish soup with noodles, cabbage, corn and fresh tuna. Fantastic.
The big day arrived with a large charter motor boat with 29 guests who went assure for burro rides. Throughout the day boats continued to arrive until by evening, 6 boats were in our little cove where we started out alone! In spite of all that, we were determined to have a great Thanksgiving. We played Christmas music all day, and started the morning with French Toast and fried eggs and then a game of Flinch, had tuna melts for lunch and finally spotted our intrepid fishermen ashore. We ran in with the dingy and tried again for our feast. It is extremely annoying to know almost NO Spanish! We communicated that we wished to go with them fishing. THey indicated 5 but we did not know if that meant 5 minutes or 5 PM. Jonathan and I got in our suits and were ready to go, just in case. Sure enough they were out in a few minutes, and we went jetting off across the bay in a Ponga, A young man of about 17 in the lead with a perhaps 14 year old along. We dropped anchor and with flippers, mask and snorkel they were ready. They each grabbed what looked like a kitchen knife and were off. Jonathan and I followed.
The area was along a rocky shore much like the other places we dived. In water about 6 to 10 feet deep, the young boys dove down, located the scallops, slipped there knives in fast before they snapped shut and slit the muscle, bringing up the shell. At the surface they cleaned them and put the meat in their pockets. I could follow there activity by following a trail of clean shiny shells on the bottom and the frenzy of small reef fish devouring the scraps. Wow, the fish were so thick in huge schools I had to wave them out of my way so I could see what was going on. Seems we had been swimming over these things all along, but just didn't know how to spot them. At the end of an hour, they were done with about 2 dozen scallops and Jonathan had worked out the system and had 3. The wind was brisk and they were shivering with the cold. We gave them 100 pesos each and they were very happy.
We were happy too. What a pile of scallops. We all then pitched in. I peeled potatoes and pounded the scallops, David breaded and cooked scallops, Jonathan made gravy, Julie heated corn, and earlier in the day, Jonathan made pineapple upside-down cake. What a feast. Mashed potatoes and gravy and all the scallops we could heat. We even broke out the cranberry jelly and the last of the chocolate milk. Afterward we were all just too full to play scrabble as planned. Jonathan did dishes and we all went to bed, with the wind gusting and blowing outside keeping it comfortably cool inside, although I was certainly uneasy about all these boats around so close.
The kids have gotten along better than I expected. We have had a few squabbles about who would cook and who would clean and who did what... so David just stated he would do all the cooking and that was that. Jonathan then volunteered to do all the dishes. That was incredibly considerate of both of them and it has brought peace to the boat, even after living together in less than 200 square feet for weeks on end. I have much to be thankful for!
The next morning we burst out of the crowd of boats in a strong wind and sailed North. Loretto seems far to big a city so we headed out to Isla Monserrate, and island not mentioned in the cruising guide and sure enough, we found nobody. We anchored a nice cove and went diving for scallops! The water was crystal clear and we found nothing. During the night the wind really began blowing from the North. We decided to end our northern quest and start back. It blew 20 to 30 knots all day and the swell really built up. We ran with a reefed main and no jib and were zipping along downwind at 6 to 8 knots. It was a rough ride as the swell is much shorter than in the Pacific and we had a pretty exciting ride. First David felt sick, then Julie. After cleaning the Tuna of the day, Jonathan was feeling woozy. We pulled into Ensenada Timbabiche on the Baja coast, a somewhat protected inlet but just low sand so in the full wind. We went ashore and got some water from a local house and went diving for scallops and were rewarded with 3. The wind howled all night. We planned a long run the next day so took off at first light. Again the wind was still strong but the swell and wind waves were getting quite big. I ordered up life vests and closed all the hatches. These short waves would just stand up so steep behind the boat and break and we would surf down the front of the wave, but with any angle to the wave at all, it would turn us broadside and knock us over on our beam ends. This happened a few times as I was forced to work around a point that prevented a downwind run. We then ran the channel between Isla San Jose and the mainland. Each shore was giant rocky cliffs and the wind was funneled directly down the channel as well as the waves. That gave us a great run wing-on-wing, with the main our on one side and the jib on the other (we had the jib down before this). We emerged from the channel and ran for Isla San Francisco through the open water again. Just then we had both our lines hit by tuna. We drag two lures behind the boat. A squid and a minnow. Jonathan routes for the squid and David for the minnow, and it is always a contest to see which will catch. This time both did at once, and with the high seas and touchy business of running downwind, it was very exciting as the fish crossed lines and both fought hard but we won.
A word about fish. We have been eating a lot of fresh fish. If we do not have fish, we eat canned tuna fish. We eat tuna and doroto, and tuna, and manta ray, and tuna, and snapper, and tuna. Tuna is very good but we are running low on new ways to cook it. We have settled on breading and frying as the tastiest, but have had soups, tacos and stir fry with tuna. Today, with 2 tuna, we are really loaded and will have to make a mighty effort to eat it up before it spoils. We got just one scallop this afternoon so it will be tuna, with a scallop garnish.
The weather is back to normal and we have moved on to Isla Partida. This is a very barren island made of loose volcanic rock with many fractures that created great inlets and coves. We found a great little cove, that seemed too small to hold a boat from the sea but we blazed in with a brisk wind and all sails out. It turned out to be very nice and completely empty. It is right at the farthest end of this popular island but not on the detailed map in our cruising book. We anchored both stern and aft to position us always pointing out to sea, so the boat sits dead still and does not wonder around as the wind shifts. The snorkeling is the best I have seen yet. Roger and I hiked up the cliff to get a good picture of the boat and cove. It was very strange, just rocks of all sizes jumbled on the ground. The hike was much longer than planned as the hill just kept going up. From the top of the ridge we could here the kids talking on the boat, but they could not hear us even when we shouted. As we crossed over the ridge it was like walking on an asteroid, just rock. It was so quiet you could hear a mosquito at 300 yards. Nothing moved or seemed to survive away from the ocean. We hiked a few hours but saw little but loose broken rock.
Tonight we went ashore to our own little private beach and built a huge bonfire and ate Julie's supper, tuna and noodles around the fire as the sun set, and the moon and stars appeared. A nice change of scenery and routine.
This was a great cove and we stayed a few days. Upon arrival we were adopted by a seagull who Julie named Sebastian. He kept station during our whole visit and was rewarded by fish scraps when we cleaned fish. In fact he ate a shocking amount, always swimming around about 6 feet from the boat or guarding or outboard.
Our trip ended in the normal way. A nice sail back to La Paz, a visit to the Marina to get the boat pulled. As we knew they could only pull boats during high tide so we arrived first thing Friday morning with the next high tide just afternoon. Unfortunately their crew was away. Also the next high tide that fell during the business day was over a week away. After much discussion they decided that Saturday afternoon late, they would pull the boat. We spent the time Friday and Saturday getting the boat cleared out, cleaned and ready to go. As usual, we had a visit Saturday just after noon from the crew saying the tide was not high enough and they would have to wait the week. Now that the boat was stripped and cleaned, we just had to leave it, so we put out our large anchor and chain and left it, with plans to come back in a week and have it pulled. Winds and tide wait for no man.
This year the sailing has not ended here. We have added a number of small Sunfish sailboats to our Mexico house toy inventory. They have been a lot of fun to sail.
