TURTLE BAY TO MARINA DEL REY 2019

May 22, 2019

We had decided that our best bet would be to leave the morning of the twenty-third to begin our passage northward.  The first twenty-four hours would be rough, but the winds should have abated and the sea state would eventually follow.  Bob needed to get home as soon as possible, having violated the first rule of bashing and set a deadline.  We went along with this mostly because we feared that if we didn’t jump on this marginal window, we might be stuck in Turtle Bay forever.

Another Cloudy Morning in Turtle Bay

We spent the morning checking in with land-based friends for weather updates, none of which varied in the least.  Wind and seas would not be truly favorable until Saturday but, by then, we didn’t know what might be brewing.  We started readying Scout for sea, stowing all the items we had drug out to dry after the last dousing.

By the time we convinced Greg to bring the dinghy on deck, the wind came up as we were unloading the outboard motor.  It was too windy to raise the dinghy, so we tied it alongside and hoped the wind would drop that evening.

Taking on Fuel

Enrique’s guys came out to deliver fuel at 16:00.  The wind was wild and the swells large.  They tossed me the slimiest, most seaweed encrusted line I had ever seen and I had to haul the panga up against Scout and tie her off.  The slimy line slipped through my fingers and the knots in it prevented me from putting it around a cleat to pull.  I feared catching a finger between knot and cleat, but somehow got the boat tied beside us without losing a digit.  We took on an additional seventy liters of diesel.  We had burned a few gallons with the generator during our twelve days in Turtle Bay, but mostly just wanted extra fuel in case we had a hard time making headway once we poked our noses outside.

Every time we dealt with Enrique, we experienced a moral dilemma.  The price he charged for fuel was exorbitant.  His prices were so high that many cruisers were bypassing Turtle Bay, altogether.  His employees asked for tips for delivering fuel, which seemed like adding insult to injury.  Greg told them the tip was included in the price.  We all felt bad, knowing that the employees probably didn’t see any of it, but we had no other means of protest.  I did feel bad asking them to take our trash ashore after we had just refused to tip them.  If any of us had had a small bill, we would have given it to them.

It was our last day at anchor and I baked the last of the cookie dough.  Everything we had baked in the oven had burned and I was determined to discover the cause.  It turned out that the thermostat was not functioning.  Using an oven thermometer, I sat beside the oven and turned it off whenever the heat got excessive.  I finally managed to produce baked goods that weren’t black on the bottom.

Dinner was shredded beef tacos with cucumber and tomato salad.  We had eaten the last of the good lettuce and the only lettuce available in Turtle Bay was some wilted iceberg that we rejected.  We watched the remainder of Master and Commander and went to bed, anticipating leaving Turtle Bay in the morning.

May 23, 2019

Bob was eager to leave and, despite Greg having said we would rise at the normal hour, got up early and started making as much noise as possible.  By 7:00, I couldn’t take it anymore and got up myself.  Everything was cold and wet with dew, but we hurried to bring the dinghy aboard while the wind was light.  We scurried around, making ready to sail, and then hauled up the anchor.  I was driving.  The tide was low and we were in only eight and a half feet of water.  I made a quick circle to head us out of the bay but when I tried to steer the other way to clear the reef, discovered that I couldn’t steer.  The autopilot was turned off and I couldn’t see the rudder indicator.  Everyone was yelling at me to turn to port, but I could not.  Assuming the rudder was pinned, I turned the opposite direction as hard as I could and increased the engine speed to give myself more steerage.  Eventually, it came around.  About that time, Greg realized that he had locked the steering on the other wheel.  No wonder I couldn’t steer!

Leaving Turtle Bay

At 8:00, we headed slowly out of the bay.  I was somewhat apprehensive.  I was not looking forward to being cold(er) and wet.  Turtle Bay, as dull as it was, had started to feel like home.  Leaving Turtle Bay also meant leaving Mexico for the season and heading back to my shoreside responsibilities.  I texted my household to tell them we were on our way and steeled myself for what was to come.

It wasn’t bad, at first.  The sun was out and, though the seas were lumpy and we pitched a lot, the wind was light and we weren’t taking water over the bow.  Greg took the first watch and then Bob took over at 11:00.  I came up to enjoy the sunshine and get some fresh air.  We were pitching enough that the cigarette smoke and diesel exhaust were making me slightly nauseated.

Isla Cedros

We crossed into the Pacific timezone about the time I took the watch at 13:30, having gained an hour.  We were all a little confused about whether watches were three or four hours and the time change didn’t help.  Bob did an extra half an hour and then I stayed on a full three hours until 16:30. By that time, we were abeam of Isla Cedros and approaching the San Benitos.  A dolphin followed us for a mile, leaping out of the water repeatedly.  The afternoon was warm and my watch was pleasant, if a bit lumpy, but the wind was gradually increasing.

The San Benitos Islands

I took a short nap after my watch and then got up to make dinner about 17:30. The wind had kicked up to about twenty knots and we had begun to fly off the steep swells and slam into the troughs.  I made a cucumber salad, but then had to lie down to recover because I was feeling queasy.  I would have lain there longer, but Greg and Bob were getting restive. I got up and heated the beans I had made ahead of time and then sauteed some chicken cutlets with Cajun spices.  They made a tasty dinner, although I was able to eat little.  I lay down, again, as soon as dinner was eaten.

When I got up again at 22:00, it was very rough.  The wind had risen to twenty-five knots and the seas were very steep.  We were slamming constantly.  We fell off and headed towards the mainland, which helped our speed a bit, but didn’t improve the ride much.  It was too dark to determine the sea state, but it was rough enough that we had slowed to about four knots.

May 24, 2019

Greg relieved me at 1:00 and I went below to lie down.  Sleep was impossible.  We were slamming constantly. I tried to sleep in the forward cabin because it was warmer, but I could feel the bow leaving the water and then slamming back down every few seconds.  Greg had left the hatch in the forward head open and I heard green water cascading in each time we took a wave.  I was afraid to get up and close it for fear of getting drenched in the process.  There was a small leak in the forward hatch which dripped on my face occasionally.  I couldn’t seem to get warm and the blankets slid off to the low side.  By 6:30, I was ready to get up even though I was tired.

I pumped gallons of water out of the forward head, made myself a cappuccino, and went on deck.  The sun was out and the wind had dropped to about twenty knots.  We weren’t slamming as badly and had stopped taking water over the bow.  Everything was slightly wet, but the situation looked better in the light of day.  My morning watch was actually fairly pleasant.  The wind continued to drop until it was blowing a steady seventeen knots.  The seas were still impressive but were farther apart.  We were climbing over them rather than flying off the top to slam into the next wave.

Greg relieved me at 10:00 and I was able to eat some peanut butter and toast and sit down to write for a few minutes.  We had just tacked and were heading northwest, away from shore.  I lay down on the settee in the main salon and slept like the dead until my next watch at 16:00.

When I came back on watch, we were twenty-five miles south of San Quintin headed straight for San Diego.  We passed Isla San Martin on my watch.  The sun was out but the wind was building again.  The weather wasn’t giving us any rest.

Isla San Martin

I had thawed what I thought was chicken in green mole for dinner but it turned out to be more beans.  Greg heated beans and leftover rice for dinner, but I decided to pass.  I was feeling nauseated again.  When my watch was over, I put on warm, clean clothes, took a strong anti-acid pill, and lay down to sleep until my next watch.

May 25, 2019

Dawn South of Ensenada

Greg and Bob took pity on me and let me sleep an extra hour. I awoke at 2:00.  We were still some hundred miles south of San Diego.  The wind had dropped a bit and it wasn’t bad out.  I was feeling much better.  My watch ended at 5:00 but I stayed up until the sun rose.  I hadn’t seen the dawn in days.  We were ten miles south of the Rocas Soledad when the sun came up.

My next watch began at 11:00 and we finally had sun and relatively flat seas.  We scooted along at over six knots for a few hours.  For once, I stayed in the cockpit after my watch ended.  In the middle of Greg’s 14:00 watch, when the wind had dropped to five knots and the seas were glassy, the engine RPMs began to fluctuate.  Greg tried giving it more throttle, but nothing would bring it up to full speed.  We suspected the fuel filters were clogged.

Scout had two easily accessible fuel filters with a valve to switch from one to the other easily.  We had already switched to the second one the previous day.  All of our pitching and slamming had stirred up the sediment in the bottom of the fuel tanks and clogged the filters.  We fell off to fill the sail and rolled out the jib.  We were just south of La Bufadora and it was quickly apparent that we weren’t going to make Bahia Todos Santos on that heading.  We tacked and headed out to sea at one and a half knots.  I sailed the boat while Greg and Bob changed the fuel filter.

Approaching Bahia Todos Santos

Unfortunately, changing the accessible filter didn’t solve the problem.  There was a third filter deep in the bowels of the engine and enough crud had passed through the first set of filters to clog that one, too.  I continued heading out to sea while Greg and Bob dug into the engine compartment, rooting through the trash for containers to catch fuel. It took them what seemed like forever to bleed the air out of the fuel system.  I continued playing with the sails, once managing three knots, but mostly poking along at one or two.  I did see a pod of dolphins off the port bow.  It was a great relief when the engine finally began to purr like its old self.  We returned to course and headed past Ensenada.

Rosarito

The wind built as the afternoon wore on, but it was sunny and the scene was interesting as we continued up the coast past Rosarito and Tijuana.  The area had seen a lot of development and was unrecognizable as the place I had visited in the nineties.  High-rise hotels and condos lined the shore where funky motels had stood.

A big, ugly wall marked the border but it seemed quite insignificant from offshore.  The mountains, sea, and human development dwarfed it.  Oddly, the Mexican side of the wall appeared much more civilized.  We observed no hordes of migrants beating on the gates.  The sun shone peacefully on Mexico as, in my experience, it usually does.

We cracked beers and watched the coast slip by.  I was reluctant to go below to cook, but finally did about 18:15.  I wanted to cook as much food as I could in case our groceries were confiscated by customs.  I made spicy chicken wings with Cajun fried potatoes and cabbage with bacon and a little vinegar.  Unfortunately, we made such good time that we arrived at San Diego before we had a chance to eat.  Dinner sat on the stove until we navigated the channel and tied up at the customs dock.

The Customs Dock in San Diego

Greg went ashore to check in at the kiosk and we waited aboard, technically quarantined.  Greg was gone quite a while and then, upon his return, asked that we immediately move to a guest slip.  Only after we had relocated did Bob and I learn that we were not actually checked in.  Greg had seen an open slip and grabbed it.  He still had to deal with customs.

Customs wanted arrivals to use an app called CBP ROAM to check in.  Greg had not downloaded it and spent an hour trying to do so on his computer while customs kept calling to ask why he hadn’t finished yet.  He succeeded in establishing an account but couldn’t get into the app.  Eventually, it became apparent that the app would only work on a smart phone or tablet.  He started over while Bob and I ate our now lukewarm dinners.  The customs agents arrived while Greg was still fighting with the app.  They were not pleased that we had left the customs dock and had failed to dispose of our produce in the special bins provided there.  They were, however, fairly easy going and didn’t give us a hard time.  Greg finally got to eat his dinner after 20:00.

Our next mission was hot showers but we couldn’t raise anyone to give us a code for the restrooms.  While there were open slips, the office said they were all full and had apparently gone home for  Memorial Day weekend.  Reluctantly, we filled Scout’s water tanks and took showers on the boat.  It was cold and damp and the idea of standing in the drafty head, wet and naked, soaping up and pumping out the sump between doses of hot water, was not appealing.  Still, we knew that no one would be waiting to give us a restroom key when we arrived in Marina del Rey, either, so we took advantage of the opportunity to get clean.  It was midnight by the time we crawled into our bunks.

Scout  in San Diego

May 26, 2019

I could hardly believe it when Greg, who was not an early riser, got up at 6:00.  Bob immediately got up to make coffee.  After a few minutes of denial when I pulled the blankets over my head, I got up to face the day.  It was cold and raining outside.  Bob was leaving us that morning to visit his mother before heading home to Minneapolis.  He wanted to get started, but needed a ride to the fuel dock on the other side of the channel.

Fuel Dock in San Diego

We arrived at the fuel dock before 7:00 and waited there until they opened.  Bob shouldered his pack and set off into the rain in search of an Uber to the train station.  We waited until the fuel operation opened and filled Scout’s tanks.  Then we towed a fellow whose dinghy outboard wasn’t working out to where he was anchored and set off down the channel in the rain.  It was dismal.

Point Loma

Rain Over Catalina Island

We gave the kelp beds off Point Loma a wide berth and then headed north towards Los Angeles.  Greg and I didn’t keep formal watches but traded off going below when one of us got cold or tired.  The rain stopped, but it remained overcast and the wind came and went.  At times it was rough and then it calmed again.  More rain was predicted and we just wanted the trip over with.  This was not a triumphant return. 

Visibility Wasn't Good

Oil Platforms

Shipping Traffic at Sunset

We continued slowly northward.  Normally, we would have headed for Avalon which would have given us a good angle to sail and made a pleasant stop.  Unfortunately, we had arrived on Sunday of Memorial Day weekend and figured we would never get a mooring.  We headed straight for Marina del Rey.  It looked like it was raining in Catalina.  Late afternoon saw us off Newport Beach.  It started to rain, again, about 18:00 and visibility was poor until the squall cleared.  We passed the drilling rigs off Huntington Beach and found ourselves smack in the middle of the shipping lanes at sunset.  There was a lot of traffic, but most was already north of us and heading away.  A cruise ship passed us heading south.  We were so close but it felt like we were getting nowhere.

By 22:00, we were off Palos Verdes and eager to make the turn that would take us into Marina del Rey.  We still had a few more hours to go.  It was dark and wet and we were tired.  

May 27, 2019

Remarkably, the lights on the Marina del Rey breakwater could not be seen until we were merely a mile away.  We knew where it was, but couldn't see it in the dark.  Greg was concerned about making the turn into the south entrance with the large seas but it went smoothly enough once we were able to see where we were going. We entered the main channel at 1:00.

Scout  in the Esprit Marina

Once in the main channel, we circled while we set up the fenders and docklines and then made our way cautiously to our slip in C-Basin.  We finally tied the boat to the dock at 1:45.  We were finally home.

The Esprit Marina

PINNED DOWN IN TURTLE BAY

May 15, 2019

Lunch at Maria's

The wind had died down a little on Wednesday, so we launched the dinghy and went to shore just before noon.  We went to Maria’s restaurant to eat lunch and use the Internet.  She had made excellent beef tamales and we had those with a side of beans and cold beers.  Maria told us about a new plaza that had just opened adjacent to the beach.  We walked over there after lunch.

New Plaza in Turtle Bay

The Turtle Bay Pier

The plaza was quite large with a huge turtle painted in the middle of it that Maria had helped to paint.  There was a stage at one end and a bandstand and playground at the other.  Everything was very new and nice.  It seemed a bit incongruous next to the abandoned and decaying cannery, but it was nice to see Turtle Bay making improvements.  It would be a good place to hold Baja Ha-Ha events.

The Grocery Store in Turtle Bay

Downtown Turtle Bay

We returned to the main drag and walked as far as the grocery store where we picked up a few essentials.  Much to our chagrin, there was no tonic water to be found in Turtle Bay.  The wind was picking up, so we hurried back to the pier where we had tied the dinghy.  The tide had fallen and it was quite a drop from the end of the stairs to the dinghy, made worse by the fact that we had to climb under the side railing because someone had nailed a board across the end of the stairway.  We managed to get ourselves and our groceries aboard without mishap and returned to Scout in time for naps and guitar practice.

I made pork chops, smashed potatoes, and salad for dinner and we sat down to watch The Candidate.

May 16, 2019

Bob and I were dying to take a walk, so we convinced Greg to take us to shore so that we could drop off laundry and get some exercise.  The town had been without water for two days, but we managed to arrange for Maria's sister, Dolores, to do our laundry using water that they had stored in a cistern.  Between dirty clothes, linens, and all the items that had become soaked with saltwater, we had three big bags of laundry.

Turtle Bay International Airport

 After dropping off the laundry, Bob and I set off to explore Turtle Bay.  We walked up the main road through the town and then continued to follow the road that led to the Turtle Bay International Airport, a deserted dirt strip surrounded by barbed wire.  The entire area was quite desolate.

The Road Out of Town

We saw no reason to go further, as there was nothing out there, so turned around and walked back through the other side of the town, behind the baseball stadium and down to the new plaza.  We found a small abandoned puppy cowering against to outside of the wall surrounding the baseball field.  I felt bad for him but couldn’t take him back to the boat.  We gave him some water and hoped someone else would find him.

Baseball Diamond in Turtle Bay

Baseball is a big deal in Turtle Bay and, according to Maria, the town has produced four major league players.  The local team is called the Piratas (Pirates.)  By comparison, the local soccer field is just a dirt surface with no lights.

One of the Functioning Ducks

Turtle Bay has one remaining commercial fishing vessel named Buzos y Pescadores (Divers and Fishermen.)  We weren’t sure exactly how it was being used, but gangs of men shuttled back and forth from boat to shore using a fleet of amphibious vehicles called Ducks.  There were at least four of them, although not all were operable.  The operators were friendly and waved as they passed.  They seemed to be having a very good time with the Ducks, which made a tremendous racket as they passed.

We arrived back at Maria’s about lunchtime, but found the restaurant closed.  Members of her family were hanging around and got us a couple of beers but couldn’t cook us anything to eat.  We would have been happy to sit there and use the Internet while we waited for Dolores to finish our laundry, but a one-armed fellow named Pedro pestered us endlessly until we lost our patience and made a break for it.  Pedro was mentally handicapped and we had to admire his desire to be helpful, but he just wouldn’t take no for an answer.  We ditched him and set off through the town to find something to eat.  None of the restaurants in town were open and very few of the businesses were open either.  There were several grocery and convenience stores and we scoured all of them, looking for tonic and anything in the way of prepared food.  Finally, in about the eighth shop, we found some cold empanadas, taquitos, and little pies that looked like quiche, but turned out to be cornbread in the center.

We ate our snacks and then returned to Maria’s to wait for our laundry.  Pedro descended on us, again, and it was all we could do to sit there until about 17:00 when we all decided the laundry wasn’t going to get any drier and packed it up.  Greg came out to get us in the dinghy and we were happy to see that the tide had risen sufficiently to make boarding the dinghy much easier.

We returned to the boat and relaxed over beers until I settled down to make chicken enchiladas for dinner.  It was 20:30 by the time we served dinner, but we stayed up to watch Frequency, wondering if Dennis Quaid had ever been in a movie that didn’t involve baseball.

May 17-18, 2019

Friday was not so calm as the previous two days and we stayed trapped in the boat.  I made biscuits for breakfast and then we settled down to make a few small repairs.  Bob and Greg worked on fixing a couple of 12-volt outlets whose wiring had pulled loose and I cleaned the old glue off the arms that supported the dining table in preparation for re-gluing them to the crosspiece.

Jolie Recovering Her Anchor

The sailing vessel Jolie had been tied to a mooring when we arrived, her skipper having left the vessel.  Maria told us that he had lost his anchor and we had observed one of the locals, Benito, trying to raise the anchor all day on Thursday.  He didn’t get it up but had managed to find it and mark it with a float.  About the time we finished our chores, the skipper of Jolie returned with two crew members.  They slipped the mooring and came out to try to recover the anchor.  They worked on it all afternoon.  Eventually, Benito returned in a panga to assist.  They finally managed to recover the anchor, but the chain remained tangled in something on the sea floor.  The first of the three storms predicted to assault us over the next week began to blow as the afternoon progressed.  When the winds reached twenty-two knots, they gave up for the day and returned to their mooring.  I went below to catch up on my writing.

Our evening progressed per our established routine of cocktails, dinner (chilorio tacos with fried onions and peppers), and a movie (Dust to Glory  a documentary about the Baja 1000.)

Morning in Turtle Bay

We didn’t go ashore on Saturday, either.  Before breakfast, we piled in the dinghy and went to visit Jolie.  The boat belonged to a medical ministry and they were headed for Mazatlan to join the mother ship.  The Bristol 32, Jolie, was in rather rough shape and had been donated to them for use in ferrying personnel from ports near airports to the remoter areas where they were working.  We chatted with them for a few minutes and then motored closer to Maria’s restaurant until we could pick up her WiFi.  We drifted there, using the Internet, until we had sent and received all our messages and then returned to the boat where I made French toast out of the absurdly thick, white bread we had been given in San Jose del Cabo.

We had received several weather updates and all confirmed that storms continued to advance down the west coast in our direction, although it was starting to look like there might be a weather window on Thursday or Friday if the now ten-foot seas would abate by then.  With nowhere to go, our day progressed lazily.  We did dig out the dinghy wheels and fiddle with them until we got them working properly.  It seemed there was nothing really wrong with them but that, if they were swapped left to right, they would bind.  Switching them solved the problem.

Moon Over Turtle Bay

After the usual naps and guitar practice, there were cocktails (We were now out of tonic and limes, so were reduced to tequila sunrises.), dinner (I made chicken marsala (pinot grigio, actually), and another movie ((Moon.)  I would have given a lot to do something other than watch a movie for the evening, but at least it was an interesting movie that I hadn’t seen.

May 19-20, 2019

Overcast Morning in Turtle Bay

I woke up early on Sunday morning and sat in the cockpit for an hour by myself.  It was overcast, but sun peeked through as the morning progressed.  There was nothing to do.  Another sailboat had arrived a few days before, but we had seen no activity aboard.  We started thinking maybe we should zoom over there in the dinghy and check on them, but we never got motivated.  It was another day of reading, playing the guitar, and playing Candy Crush on my phone.  We still didn’t have Internet, although text messages would come through sporadically.

The Church in Turtle Bay

I made bacon slaw and tortellini with pesto for dinner and we watched Blood Simple.  Each of us wondered what had ever motivated anyone to write such a screenplay or make such a movie.  I usually don’t get bored, but the waiting was getting to me.  Had I been alone, I would have worked more on my music, but the songwriting process would be excruciating for others to witness.  Little things like other crew members using my phone charging cord started to bother me and I could feel myself getting irritable.

Monday morning, we did climb in the dinghy and go to check on the now two sailboats at the other end of the bay.  The first, Blade & Wing, was heading south towards La Paz and belonged to friends of friends.  We chatted with them for twenty minutes or so.  Their boom had come apart on their way from Ensenada and they had just fit it back together when we arrived, after messing with it for days.

Grey Matter and Blade and Wing

The second boat, Grey Matter, was a Bruce Roberts 42 and looked like a steel version of a Nauticat.  They were also headed for La Paz.  They had a very friendly dog that looked like she wanted to jump in our dinghy.  I scratched her ears and kept her aboard their boat while we talked to the skipper, Josh.

We had intended to go ashore to do some shopping but, between the big swells and the annoying Pedro waiting for us at the top of the stairs up to the pier, we abandoned that project and returned to the boat.  We passed another lazy afternoon and then I cooked up some hamburger meat tacos for dinner.  We didn’t even bother watching a movie but went to bed early to read.

May 21, 2019

Too Much Surf for a Beach Landing

Tuesday, we resolved to go ashore to do some shopping and search for filter cartridges for our water maker.  The wind had blown so much silt into the water that the filters clogged after only a couple of hours and we were out of clean ones.  The swells were quite large.  It was too rough for a beach landing and we didn’t relish the idea of trying to hop onto the stairs to the pier with the dinghy heaving all over the place.  At low tide it was quite a distance to the bottom step.  We called Enrique for a water taxi.  For 200 pesos, he sent Benito out to pick us up.  It was a high price to pay to be shuttled a few hundred yards, but we decided it was worth it.  They did take our trash as part of the bargain.

Our first stop, upon reaching the shore, was Maria’s restaurant.  We arrived about noon.  She was closed, but we called the number on the door and arranged for her to serve us pozole at 14:00.  After a quick look at the Internet, we headed into town to go to the hardware store to look for filters.  Pedro insisted on accompanying us.

The Second Hardware Store

The first hardware store, which stocked all kinds of home improvement items and looked like they ought to have filtration systems, did not carry filters.  Now, Pedro finally became useful.  He led us to a second hardware store, deep in a neighborhood, that we would never have found on our own.  They had a machine shop and all kinds of tools and engine supplies but no filters.  Pedro then took us to a third store that had a filtration system, but no refill cartridges.

Bob, Greg, and Pedro at the Water Filtration Plant

Having exhausted the hardware stores, Pedro then took us on a tour of all the water filtration plants in the town.  The first one had filters, but not the ones we needed.  The second one wasn’t helpful.  The third one said the attached shop might have them, but they were closed for siesta.  By this point, we were quite far out on the edge of town and Greg wasn’t willing to walk back out there, after lunch, on the slim possibility they might have what we needed.

Abalone Lab

Pedro had one more possibility up his sleeve.  He walked us all the way back across Turtle Bay to the big warehouse with two water towers on the shore that had been intriguing me since we arrived.  If I hadn’t been so curious as to what was going on there, I would have refused to go.  I didn’t really believe we were going to find any filters there.  I did, however, want to see what was up there, so we plodded up the hill after Pedro who knew where everything was but wasn’t a big communicator.

Abalone Tanks

The warehouse turned out to be an abalone farm run by the local fishermen’s cooperative.  They propagated tiny abalone and then planted them in natural settings to mature.  The football-field-sized warehouse was filled with large tubs full of running water.  It was an impressive operation.  They were friendly but didn’t have any water filters.

By that time, it was nearly 14:00, so we admitted defeat and returned to Maria’s for lunch.  Maria was not there, but we were greeted by her sisters, Dolores and Maria Yolanda, who served us a nice lunch of pozole, beer, and chips.  The warm soup was welcome.  We sat there, using the Internet, and then left a memento of our visit inscribed on the wall.  I was recruited to draw the little dog that was Scout’s logo.

Benito had agreed to return us to the boat at 16:00.  Dolores and Maria Yolanda wanted to go to church, so we let them close up and spent the last forty-five minutes doing a little grocery shopping and then sitting at the head of the pier, using the WiFi. The wind had built to over twenty knots by that time and the swells were at least four feet.  Benito had a tough time hauling the panga to the bottom of the stairs.  I was nearly blown off the pier as I carried a bag of groceries down to the boat.  Climbing aboard, with the boat heaving violently, required good timing.  At one point, we had to leave Greg clinging to the stairs while Benito circled the boat to reposition it.  Transferring us to Scout went more smoothly after Benito hooked a couple of fenders off the deck.

Benito's Launch

It was nap and guitar practicing time when we returned, but even I was too tired, after the walk and the beer, to play for long.  I took a nap after the others awoke.  Eventually, I moved myself to make spaghetti sauce from the leftover taco meat and boil some pasta.  We had spaghetti and the leftover bacon slaw for dinner.  We began watching Master and Commander but only made it to the second battle before shutting it off and going to bed.  It had been a strenuous day.

SAN JOSE DEL CABO TO TURTLE BAY

May 8, 2019

Cross in San Jose del Cabo

With access to dry land, I decided to get up early and go for a run.  I ran around the marina, along the beach to the levee road that contains the estuary and out that road to the bridge.  Once I reached the bridge, I retraced my steps to the marina but then I got it into my head to try to find a way to the top of the hill where a giant steel cross had been erected.  I followed the driveway from the parking lot at the midpoint of the marina out to the road and then followed the road for a couple of miles up over a pass and around two hills until I finally found the dirt road leading to the summit about 25 feet from where I had started. 

The cross was impressive at close range and the view of the marina and San Jose del Cabo was excellent.  I took a few pictures and then completed my circumnavigation of the mountain and followed the edge of the marina back to the boat.  I ended up running a total of six miles and it felt good.  My body was much happier running on dirt than it had been running on the concrete Malecon in La Paz.

Marina Puerto Los Cabos

After I showered, Brad, Bill, Bob and I got an Uber and went into San Jose del Cabo to explore.  Our first order of business was to find a reasonable place to eat breakfast.  Everything on the main drag charged about three times the normal rate, so we poked around the side streets until we found a funky, brightly painted breakfast joint where we got excellent omelets with coffee and juice for eighty-five pesos.

Church in San Jose del Cabo

We walked around the plaza and up and down the streets in the old town section of San Jose del Cabo, stopping into a few of the many art galleries there.  Bill found a sculpture that he liked and took pictures to send to his wife.  The prices were equal to or higher than those found in tourist towns in the United States.

Plaza in San Jose del Cabo

Street of Galleries in San Jose del Cabo

We got back just in time to take naps before happy hour.  I got up and made guacamole.  My friend, Carlos, was supposed to meet us for drinks at 18;00.  We did our best to wait for him, but only held out until 17:30.  He was only slightly late.  After a round of cocktails, we strolled across the street to El Marinero Borracho (the Drunken Sailor) for dinner.  The food was excellent.  I had shrimp enchiladas with a refreshing cabbage salad and rice flavored with pineapple and coconut.  The food was very different and a nice change.

Bill, Carlos, Bob, and Greg at El Marinero Borracho

We sat, ate, talked, and enjoyed the sunset.  It was a leisurely meal and a nice chance to catch up with Carlos and see how he was doing.  His latest venture was hauling things back and forth from Cabo to San Diego for rich gringos.  He was doing well.  Tom and Cary from Dragon’s Toy hoped to arrange for him to take their engine to the USA to be rebuilt.

We were all sleepy after our meal, so Carlos headed back to Cabo and the rest of us retired shortly thereafter.

May 9, 2019

Palms on the Levee Road

I got up and, having figured out the best route to the top, climbed the hill to the cross.  The easiest way to get there was to walk out to the main road along the driveway leading to the marina office, make a right, and follow the main road past a roundabout to the dirt road that led to the top.  I visited the top and then returned to the main road and followed that to the levee road, taking that to the beach and back to the marina.  Cows grazed casually on the parkway.  Someone had planted a row of palm trees along the levee road and we all wondered how they were getting water.

Cows Grazing on the Parkway

Panorama from the Cross

We debated endlessly about the best time to start our bash.  There wasn’t a obvious choice.  No matter when we began, the first twenty-four hours looked ugly and the further out we looked, the less reliable the predictions became.  Wind Rose and Perla were coming with us.  Synergy had been planning to come but decided to wait a month for better weather.  They gave us many of their perishable provisions and we ended up with five loaves of bread and a lot of fruit.

Eventually, we decided to leave that night as soon as Wind Rose’s crew had arrived from the airport.  Steve, the skipper of Wind Rose, had consulted a weather router who suggest that we sail west thirty or forty miles to an area of lighter wind before heading north.  This seemed as good a plan as any.  Whenever there are a group of boats on a dock, waiting for a weather window, a sort of group-think develops.  The debate seems endless until someone finally makes a decision and then everyone else follows.  I had seen it many times before.

The Fruit Hammock

With an actual departure in sight, we spent the day stowing loose objects, checking the oil, and sealing the hatches with plumber’s putty.  I strung a hammock between two of the hatches to store our large cache of fruit securely.  I made sure there would be no flying missiles like we had had on our way back from Isla Partida. 

Leaving San Jose del Cabo

We napped in the afternoon in anticipation of a long night and then went back across the street for one last meal at El Marinero Borracho.  This time, I had a chino burrito, a burrito with breaded shrimp, pineapple, cucumber, cabbage, mint, and a ginger dressing.  It tasted a lot like a spring roll and was very flavorful.

By 21:00 we grew tired of waiting for Wind Rose and cast off our dock lines.  Once we were clear of the harbor, I went below to sleep as I had the 3:00 watch.  The first couple of hours weren’t too bad.  Sealing the hatches had rendered the forward cabin unbearable, so I lay down on the settee in the main salon.

Once we passed Cabo San Lucas and started around Cabo Falso, things got interesting.  The wind was gusting over 30 knots and the seas were steep.  We were slamming frequently and it was impossible to sleep through being launched into the air every few minutes.  It was also very loud between the engine, the howling wind, and the waves smashing into the boat.  I knew things had gotten rough when I got a face full of water and had to get up to close the one remaining open hatch.

May 10, 2019

I gave up trying to sleep and got up to dress about 2:30.   It was cold and wet in the cockpit, so I put on my heaviest fleece, wool socks, and foul weather gear.  Once swathed in all those layers, I had no choice but to go on deck before I boiled.  Greg and Bob had installed the side curtains, but I still found both our down throw pillows sodden.  I quickly tossed them below before they could get any wetter.  Spray was cascading over the bimini and dripping down through the seams between the panels, drenching the entire cockpit.  It wasn’t windy, but it was very wet.

Dawn Near Cabo Falso

Greg had been sleeping in the cockpit but went below once I came on watch.  Bob stayed up with me. We were standing rotating three-hour watches.  It was gusting up to 33 knots when I came on watch. It was too rough to think about eating or drinking anything.  The exhaust and Greg’s cigarette smoke were eddying around the cockpit and even inside the cabin, making things even more nauseous.  I sat at the wheel much of the time, even though it was more exposed, because the air was fresher.  There was too much water on the wind screen to see much in front of us, but we could tell from the AIS that Wind Rose had passed us and that we were drawing away from Perla.  We were making a little better than five knots, even with the rough conditions, but we were heading much further west than we would usually have gone.

We Took a Lot of Water on Deck

The wind abated slightly as my watch progressed but was still steadily in the high twenties when six o’clock rolled around.   Greg was out cold when I woke him at 6:00 and it was nearly 6:30 before he relieved me.  Bob and I watched the dawn and then he retired just shortly before Greg took the helm from me.  Not having slept much, earlier, I went straight to sleep as soon as I shed my wet clothing.

I got up for a hard-boiled egg and a piece of toast at 8:30 and then went back to sleep until 11:30 when it was time to get up for my noon watch.  It was still blowing in the low twenties and we still slammed occasionally, but I was convinced that we had reached the “calmer” winds.  We continued sailing west, as far north as we could go and still keep the reefed main sail full.  We were barely making five knots.

Tearing Up the Floor to Repair the Bilge Pump

It was warmer and somewhat dryer in the cockpit, but my pants got wet from sitting on the soaking cushions.  The decks were awash.  No sooner had I taken over than Greg informed me that the bilge pump wasn’t working, the water was above the floor boards, and I need to operate the manual bilge pump while they worked on repairing the electric one.  The screen was clogged with gunk and the float switch had quit.  I pumped for an hour while they cleaned out the screen and reconfigured the pump to operate with a manual switch.  This involved completely dismantling the main salon.

Hitchhiker

Wind and seas remained consistent throughout my watch.  One booby hitched a ride on our dinghy but didn’t decide to stay.  It was probably too wet for him there, as waves were still breaking over the bow.  When my watch ended, I had to remain on deck while Greg reconstructed enough of the salon settee that I had somewhere to go.  The majority of the compartments remained open until he was secure that all the water had drained out of the bilges.

I ate a couple of pieces of bread (all my stomach wanted) and sat down to catch up on my blog entries.  I wrote for a couple of hours and then made dinner.  We had spicy chicken wings, rice, and salad for dinner and ate in the cockpit.  The sun shone and the wind had dropped to nine knots.  Greg assured us that it would stay calm all the way to Turtle Bay, some 350 miles further on.  We all remained in the cockpit until the sun set, waiting for the green flash.  Bob swore there was one but I remained unconvinced.  I was feeling chilled and went below to read as soon as the sun set.

My next watch began at 21:00.  Despite Greg’s having assured us that it would remain calm for the next few days, it was blowing twenty knots when I came on deck.  Still, the seas stayed flat and we made good time.  My watch was entirely uneventful.  I saw no one.  There was a nice quarter moon that provided good visibility, although it was difficult to see anything through the condensation on the windscreen and side curtains.  I had to poke my head around the curtain and into the cold breeze to see anything forward of the boat.  The wind calmed slightly as the night wore on and settled into the high teens.

I woke Greg at midnight and then crept into the forward cabin to sleep the night away on the comfortable, memory foam mattress.

May 11, 2019

Glassy Seas at Dawn off Bahia Santa Maria

The sun was rising when I came back on watch at 6:00.  The wind had dropped to nothing and the seas were glassy.  We passed Bahia Santa Maria as the sun rose.  The first third of our trip, by effort if not by actual mileage, lay behind us.

The early morning was clear and sunny and I enjoyed sitting in the cockpit, reading, until Greg came on deck about 8:30.  He had finally caught up on sleep and was feeling chipper.  He wanted to smoke, so I went below and made toast, remaining below decks until the smoke had cleared.  I no longer felt at all seasick but remained sensitive to the smell of cigarettes for some reason.

Heading for Turtle Bay

I stayed on deck to read after my watch ended but the sky clouded over and the warm sun retreated.  I ducked back inside before I got chilled, made a cup of tea, and sat down to write.  I stayed below, out of the sun and wind, until my next watch began at 15:00.

That watch was uneventful. We saw no one and were as far from shore as we were going to get with nothing to see but water.  We were following the rhumb line, straight for Turtle Bay.  The wind stayed in the high teens all afternoon.

I had put the chile verde I had cooked back in La Paz out to thaw and we had that for dinner with leftover rice, tortillas, and salad.  I prepared the dinner as soon as I came off watch.  After dinner, I went down to take a nap.  Greg came down after a bit to get his foul weather jacket and told me that it was raining.  The rain didn’t last for long.

May 12, 2019

My phone had been left on the charger, so I had no alarm.  Bob didn’t come to wake me until just after midnight.  I got up, dressed, and made an instant cappuccino as quickly as I could.  The lights of the catamaran, Voyager, were just barely visible behind us.  A half moon hung in the sky and I watched it sink slowly towards the water until it set suddenly when I wasn’t looking.  The wind continued in the high teens and the waves were starting to build.  Still, we motored along at six knots, following the rhumb line.  We were about 115 miles southeast of Turtle Bay when I took the watch.

I was late waking Greg, so he didn’t take the watch until nearly 3:30.  It was pleasant out and I wasn’t overly tired, so I didn’t mind staying up.  I read for an hour or so after I went to bed.

Me on Watch

I woke, again, when my alarm went off at 8:45.  When I came on deck at 9:00, the wind had risen to nearly twenty knots and we had tacked off to the northwest to take advantage of the sail.  We were fifty-nine miles southeast of Turtle Bay and could see Isla Asuncion off the starboard bow.  All during my watch, we advanced towards Punta San Pablo, the nearest point of land between us and Turtle Bay.

The starboard cockpit cushions had been drenched with seawater the first night.  The previous afternoon, I had hung the wettest one over the lifelines to drip outside the boat.  Once the sun heated up sufficiently, I dragged the cushion back into the sun and hung the opposite end out to dry.  The cover was crusted with salt and the whole thing would need to be thoroughly rinsed once we reached Marina del Rey or it would never be truly dry again.

Greg cooked us a nice breakfast of one-eyed-jacks and stewed apples and then he and Bob went below and left me to myself until just before noon when my watch ended.  Voyager was off to the port side a few miles and was very slowly overtaking us.  We had heard from Wind Rose that they were forty miles off Turtle Bay and headed for the border.  Our estimated arrival in Turtle Bay looked to be too late to take on fuel.  We planned to anchor for the night, get a good night’s sleep, and take advantage of the time to bathe.

When my watch ended, I went below to grab some lunch, read, and sit down to write.  I spent the rest of the afternoon reading and dozing.  The wind continued in the high teens and the seas gradually built until we were, once again, slamming.  The clouds were accumulating, also, and it looked like it might rain.

Approaching Turtle Bay

Entering Turtle Bay

We arrived at the mouth of Turtle Bay just as I came back on watch at 18:00.  The wind was howling and it wasn’t much stiller in the bay.  We dropped anchor near the fuel pier but it was too late for fuel service that day.

Evening Falls on Turtle Bay

We opened a bottle of red wine and enjoyed the evening light on the surrounding hills.  Then we barbecued a package of arrachera and had tacos with some of the beans I had prepared and frozen back in La Paz.

Bob and Greg were tired and retired early.  I sat up listening to music for an hour and then tried to sleep, but I had had a little caffeine and too many naps.  I lay awake until well after midnight.

May 13, 2019

Turtle Bay in the Morning

We slept in on Monday morning.  Enrique’s guys came around before breakfast to sell us fuel and we filled up.  They attempted to charge us thirty-four pesos per liter (20-21 at a gas station), but Greg talked them down to thirty, which was still about $6.30/gallon.  They were also selling abalone jewelry and Greg bought a few pieces to take home.

I took a much-needed shower and then, after Bob and Greg topped off the oil, I made sausage, eggs, and toast for breakfast.  We lounged around the boat until I sat down to write in the early afternoon.  Perla pulled into the bay about 13:00, sixteen hours behind us.

Our big dilemma was how to proceed on our voyage.  The seas outside the bay had already grown steeper and the wind continued to blow.  After Cabo Falso, the next nastiest stretch of water lay north of Cedros, between the island and the mainland.  We needed more weather information before attempting that crossing.

Perla  at Anchor in Turtle Bay

I had messaged our friend, Blair, the night before, asking for his input, and he checked in Monday morning.  After taking the time to collect as much data as possible, he called us back before noon.  A storm was approaching from the north and was predicted to reach us by Thursday.  The question was whether we could make it to Ensenada before the seas prevented us from making further progress.  Nine foot seas were predicted and water like that would stop us in our tracks.  We debated for some time.  It was possible we could beat the storm, but equally likely that we would end up having to spend several days cowering in some anchorage with no services whatsoever.  As primitive as Turtle Bay was, we could purchase supplies there and there were (sometimes) restaurants and laundries.  After much consideration, we decided to remain in Turtle Bay until the storm blew through.

It was windy all day and we never felt motivated to launch the dinghy in the sloppy conditions.  We read and I practiced the guitar while my crew mates napped.  There was no hurry to do anything.  Greg ran the generator while we had drinks and I ran the microwave to thaw spaghetti sauce for dinner and charged my computer.  We ate a late dinner and then sat down to watch the movie, Babel.  It was 23:00 by the time we retired, a late night for us.

May 14, 2019

I awoke early but it was cold and grey outside and I had no desire to climb out of my warm bunk.  I lay there, composing song lyrics in my head until I got far enough that I had to get up to write them down.  We were rolling at anchor and I still had no desire to venture out into the cockpit.  Bob heated water for coffee and we all stayed below to drink coffee.  Eventually, I tried making banana pancakes but they were not a tremendous success.  Nothing we did seemed to improve the nasty whole wheat pancake mix Greg had bought in quantity from Costco.  At least they were warm and filling.

Abalone Farm (Right) in Turtle Bay

After breakfast, the men moved outside and I remained below to work on my blog and continue writing my song.  I needed quiet to concentrate.  We spent the entire day lounging about the boat.  There was nothing else to do.  We ate so many chips at happy hour that we only wanted lentil soup and toast for dinner.