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.