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| Puerto Escondido in the Morning |
April 24, 2024
With a 38-mile journey ahead of us, we wanted to depart Puerto Escondido as early as possible. When I emerged from my cabin at 6:30, Brad had already taken the dinghy to shore to do one last load of laundry. The laundry room was scheduled to open at 7:00, but Brad had to wait until 7:30 because the key had been misplaced. Still, he was back at the boat before 9:00. We hauled the dinghy back onto the foredeck and departed. Blair and Ray had left, earlier, to hike up Tabor Canyon. We observed Wings entering the bay as we approached the channel and Fred called to say goodbye.
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| The Anchorage at San Juanico |
It was another very calm day. We motored out the channel and then turned north and headed up the coast. It was interesting to see the “windows” in Puerto Escondido from the other side. All day, we kept hoping to see enough wind to sail, but it never materialized. With the water as flat as it was, we were able to motor at 6 knots, so we made good time. We passed Isla Coronados and dropped the hook in San Juanico by 16:30.
I cooked tuna steaks with beans and salad for dinner. We had missed our naps and were both sleepy. It was all I could do to stay awake until 21:30. There was no wind, but the boat was rolling a bit when I went to sleep. I feared it might get worse, but it did not.
April 25, 2024
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| Morning in San Juanico |
When I awoke at 00:30, it was perfectly calm, and I went right back to sleep. However, when I awoke,
again, at 3:15, the wind was howling off the beach. I got up to be sure we weren’t being blown onto a lee shore and then went back to sleep. Our bow was headed into the wind, so the motion wasn’t uncomfortable. The squeaking of the snubber lines against the hull woke me repeatedly, all night, and I didn’t get up until 7:00.
Brad and I were both a little bleary. It was a two-coffee day for Brad.
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| Cruisers' Shrine |
We didn’t get moving until nearly 10:00 when we lowered the dinghy into the water, installed the motor, and went to shore to explore. I wanted to show Brad the cruiser “shrine” where, for years, boaters had left mementos of their passing. Don and I had left a shell painted with Comet’s logo years before, but I couldn’t find it. We did see ornaments left by other acquaintances. The shrine is a scrubby tree festooned with shells and other items. The display is exposed to the elements and is ever changing.
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| The Supposed Walton House |
There is a complex of houses on the cliffs overlooking the cove. According to one book I read, the original house was built by a Spanish countess. A sailor we met told us it was currently owned by the Walmart heirs and that they paid to maintain the campground on the beach. We hoped this was true. Someone was clearly maintaining it and removing the garbage.
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| Freshwater Lagoon at San Juanico |
After we left the beach with the shrine, we motored over to the beach on the other side of the cove and anchored the dinghy there while we went ashore. Behind a sand berm, we found a freshwater lagoon. Earlier, we had seen a herd of horses walk along the beach and disappear in the direction of the water.
We motored back to the boat and spent the afternoon lounging. We had a lovely lunch of leftover tuna steaks, penne with pesto, and salad. As the sun was setting, we saw a lone burro return from the canyon with the lagoon and pick his way along the beach and across the rocks at the bottom of the cliffs to climb up the steep hill towards the road. We wondered where he was headed.
The full moon rising over the anchorage was spectacular and I sat outside to admire it.
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| Moonrise Over San Juanico |
April 26, 2024
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| Sunrise in San Juanico |
We had 42 miles to go to get to Bahia Concepcion, so we left early. The sea was very flat, and we made good time. Within an hour and a half, we had passed Pulpito, a giant plug of igneous rock rising out of the sea. We planned to visit it on our return trip.
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| Pulpito |
It got windier and windier as the day progressed and we sped towards Bahia Concepcion on main alone, as the wind was on our nose. We squirted around the corner into the bay and dropped anchor at Punta Santo Domingo about 15:00. The anchorage was sheltered from the swell, but not the wind. We anchored off the beach in fifteen feet of water. We saw no trace of the mountains of scallop shells that had littered the beach in 2016.
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| Anchorage at Punta Santo Domingo |
Brad grilled arrachera for dinner and we ate it with beans, tortillas, and salad. One other boat joined us before sunset. It was quite calm by that time. The wind never came up during the night which allowed the boat to lie crosswise to the swell. We rolled badly. Between the motion of the boat and the yipping of coyotes, we slept badly.
April 27, 2024
Despite not being in any rush, we were both up by 5:45. We were still rolling too much to really enjoy our leisurely morning. By 9:00, we had pulled anchor and headed off to Playa Santispac. There was a pleasant wind, and we were in no hurry, so we tacked up the bay under sail until the wind died just in time for us to make the turn into Santispac.
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| Beachfront Home in Playa Santispac |
There were more houses on the beach than there had been when I was there in 2016, but the campground and restaurants were unchanged. The water was still a startling turquoise. We anchored in the lobe of the bay near the houses, rather than the campground. It was perfectly calm.
We put the dinghy in the water and motored over to the wide, sand beach that contained the campground. We tried to go to Anna’s restaurant, but found it shuttered. We walked back to Armando's
restaurant and sat there long enough to drink margaritas. Then we motored back towards the boat, stopping at another little, sandy crescent accessible only from the water. The water was quite warm, but the air temperature did not invite us to swim. It was a shame, as the water was gorgeous.
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| Anna's Restaurant |
Back at the boat, we munched on guacamole and chips which filled us up so much that we delayed eating dinner until after 19:00. We made tacos out of all our leftovers, managing to dirty every bowl in the boat in the process. The anchorage was so still that Brad remarked that it felt like we were in an RV in a parking lot. The moon was not due to rise until after my bedtime. I retired at 21:00 and slept blissfully.
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| The View from Armando's |
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| Brad Wading at Playa Santispac |
April 28, 2024
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| Palapas on the Beach in El Burro Cove |
We had slept so well in our protected anchorage that we both arose by 6:00. We made beverages and sat in the sun in the cockpit. It was warm enough for shorts and T-shirts by 7:00, although it cooled off fast once the wind came up.
We didn’t have far to go. Still, we pulled up the anchor and headed around the corner by 9:00. I wanted to see if the palapas on Playa El Burro were still standing, so we headed there, first. Geary’s huge ham radio antenna was gone, but the area seemed otherwise unchanged. Several boats were anchored there. We decided to anchor in Playa El Coyote, just around a rocky point from El Burro. The water was beautiful, but it was cool and windy all day. We had chosen that anchorage for its restaurant and grocery store, but it was too lumpy for us to want to put the motor on the dinghy. We spent all day lounging around the boat. I read, studied French, and wrote. We contemplated our itinerary and Brad talked on the phone. My phone had become unmoored from its network and refused to find it again, despite being a Telcel phone. We wanted to call the marina at Santa Rosalia but they were closed on Sundays, anyway. We made rice and cooked pork chops for dinner. The wind died as night descended and we slept peacefully.
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| Shoreside Homes in Playa El Coyote |
April 29, 2024
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| Leaving Concepcion Bay |
Once again, we were up at first light and pulled out of the anchorage at 7:30. The morning was calm and we motored out into the main portion of Bahia Concepcion, keeping our eyes on Navionics and the depth sounder. The Ray Marine chart plotter was quite inaccurate in the Gulf of California and there were many shoals.
It took us a couple of hours to clear the bay.
We chose a route outside of the Islas Santa Ines and Isla San Marcos and stayed in deep water. There wasn’t very much wind. We pulled out the sails but most of our propulsion came from the motor. We arrived in the marina at Santa Rosalia just after 16:00. This gave us time to check in before the office closed at 17:00.
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| The Marina at Santa Rosalia |
The marina was pleasant in several ways. Foremost, we were able to get a slip, right away. We were pleasantly surprised to find that the nightly fee was only 14 pesos per foot per night, what our friend, Blair, proclaimed was the lowest rate in the Western Hemisphere. On a quarterly basis, that rate dropped to a mere 10 pesos per foot. The docks were clean and the security guards and office staff helpful. We felt like welcome guests, possibly because the marina was small and not very busy. The standard prefab Fonatur buildings housed the local bus terminal and a brew pub. A large group of cruisers was playing dominoes in front of the brew pub when we passed.
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| Malecon in Santa Rosalia |
Brad and I took a walk down the malecon and remarked the absence of the usual waterfront tourist development. Prime real estate was devoted to such mundane businesses as auto parts and convenience stores. We bought some coffee in one of the shops and then, realizing that the center of town was in the other direction, returned to the boat. It was hot and we hid below decks until the sun sank low.
About 19:00, we headed into the center of Santa Rosalia. Santa Rosalia was established as a company town by a French copper mining concern eventually known at El Boleo after the little green balls of copper ore that were discovered there in 1868. Originally, the executives lived on the mesa north of town and the workers lived in the central area in the arroyo below. Most of the town lies in that arroyo with a few homes on the southern mesa and homes and a hotel on the northern one.
The town does not resemble a Mexican town. The style of architecture resembles any nineteenth century mining town in the United States with wooden houses sporting covered porches and surrounded by picket fences. The few stone buildings were constructed in a French style.
We ambled around the central neighborhood, observing the architecture and looking for a restaurant open on a Monday night. We finally selected one across the street from the gymnasium where a girls’ basketball game was in progress. The town was lively for a Monday night and vehicular traffic was heavy. Everyone seemed to be driving nice, new cars.
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| Santa Rosalia Architecture |
While Santa Rosalia had languished after the original copper mines shut down in the 1980s, a joint Canadian and Korean firm had resumed mining for copper, cobalt, and zinc just north of town in 2016 and the town appeared to be prospering.
We were back at the boat by 20:30 and, having arisen early, quickly retired.
April 30 – May 1, 2024
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| Mining Museum in Santa Rosalia |
I awoke at the crack of dawn and lay in bed for an hour or so until I started receiving messages and could tell that Brad had turned on the Starlink. I got up and tried to take a shower. I was only moderately successful as there was no hot water in the marina restroom. Brad was drinking coffee when I returned, and I made myself a cup. We surfed the internet and answered messages for a while and then I made some oatmeal with raisins.
At 9:00, we gathered our shopping bags and set off along the waterfront towards the Ley supermarket. Along the way, we noticed some historical plaques outside the openings of mine shafts. We crossed the road to read the history of mining in Santa Rosalia.
After copper was discovered in Santa Agueda in 1868, the site was sold to some Germans. Mining, there, only lasted a few years. In 1885, some French investors (the Rothschilds among them) signed a contract with the Porfirio Diaz government and established the Compagnie du Boleo and began mining in Santa Rosalia. They had to pipe water from nearby Santa Agueda to supply the town. Santa Rosalia still suffers from a shortage of water. There was no water on the docks when we arrived, and we were told this was also true in the town.
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| Interior of the Eiffel Church |
The Compagnie du Boleo built Santa Rosalia and eventually purchased the prefabricated steel chapel known as the Iglesia Santa Barbara from Eiffel after he had exhibited it in Paris. The church was disassembled and re-erected in Santa Rosalia where it stands to this day. Its lovely stained glass windows contrast with the interior framework which rather resembles an aircraft hangar.
A new mine known as San Luciano was opened in 1931 and the ore transported via 18 miles of narrow-gauge steam trains to the foundry in Santa Rosalia.
Another byproduct of the smelting process was steam, which was used to turn generators that provided electricity to the town.
Back at the boat, I rested my poor, sprained foot while Brad went out to visit the liquor store, fill a jerry can with diesel (the fuel dock was not operational), and check out of the marina. I tried to complete a blog post, but the Starlink refused to stay connected. I had to settle for writing about Santa Rosalia. We planned to leave that evening for an overnight trip to Bahia San Francisquito.
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| The Harbor Wall |
Our slip was deep into the marina and the area surrounding it was shallow at low tide. The height of tides had gradually increased as we ventured further up the Gulf of California. (Americans have long referred to this body of water as the Sea of Cortez. Mexicans prefer the title of Gulf of California, as Cortez conquered the indigenous peoples of Mexico.) We were afraid we wouldn’t have enough water to complete the turn if we were to back out to port and then proceed forward out of the marina. Instead, we recruited line handlers to pull the bow to port as we backed out, allowing us to back all the way out of the marina.
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| Sunset North of Santa Rosalia |
We left our slip at 18:00 and started north up the coast. We went as fast as we could, hoping to get as far as possible before the strong offshore winds began to blow. The first couple of hours were calm and we made it past the first low spot in the mountains without getting battered. By 21:00, the winds were blowing in earnest. The wind was on our beam, which was good for sailing, but the resulting swell caused us to roll. At least we weren’t slamming. The worst part of it was the cold. We had everything but our foul weather gear on and were still cold.
Brad had the watch from 21:00 to midnight. The wind ranged from the high teens when I went to bed (not that I slept) to the low twenties when I took over. Below decks, it sounded like the boat was about to blow apart. Something in the boom rattled fiercely and the boat creaked as it usually did. Once I emerged into the cockpit, it was apparent that everything was fine. The wind was strongest from midnight to 1:00 and then gradually tapered off until it was a pleasant ten knots or so when Brad came back up at 3:00. He had been able to get a little bit of sleep.
By morning, when I got up at 6:00, the seas were calm and glassy, again. Brad stayed on deck and snoozed in the cockpit while I took over the driving.
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| The Anchorage at San Francisquito |
We pulled into San Francisquito about 8:00. It was a desolate place. It remained cold and windy all day. We never bothered to launch the dinghy. There is a small inlet in the corner of the bay that would have offered better protection, but it was too shallow for us to go in and out except at high tide. We didn’t want to chance it. Reportedly, there were some services there, but we never went ashore. We spent the day catching up on sleep and I took advantage of the downtime to work on a blog post. I made spicy chicken wings for dinner, and we ate them with leftover rice. Our cucumber salad had frozen in the back of the refrigerator and was a total loss.
The wind blew off the beach at night but not hard enough to alarm us. I awoke to light streaming in the hatch over my bunk. I assumed it was the moon and rolled over. When I awoke a few hours later, the light was still there. This seemed unlikely to me, so I altered my position and tried to focus my nearsighted eyes. The light was round. The moon would have been less than half full. One of us had accidentally turned on the deck light and it had been burning all night. I got up and shut it off.
May 2, 2024
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| Leaving San Francisquito |
We were eager to reach our goal of Bahia de los Angeles. We were up before 6:00 and hauling the anchor by 7:00. We motored up the channel between Isla San Lorenzo and the Baja peninsula. In the distance, we could see Isla Tiburon, the largest island in the Gulf of California. The gulf was so narrow at this point that it seemed we would have been able to see the other side if it were not for the haze lingering over the water in the morning. We debated where to go next. We had originally planned to stop at Isla Partida (not the one near La Paz), but we were concerned that we might miss our weather window to enjoy the Bay of L.A. if we dallied. We decided to push on to Puerto Don Juan near the opening to the Bay of L.A.
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| Isla Angel de la Guardia |
There was very little wind during the day, and we proceeded north at nearly six knots. We raised the main for stability, but it did little to propel us. We passed Isla Partida and the horizon filled with the mountains on Isla Angel de la Guardia. We peeked into Bahia las Animas, but elected to save that anchorage for the way back when it would offer us protection from the offshore winds. After passing a few more points of land, we made a U-turn around a point and slipped through the narrow channel into Puerto Don Juan.
Puerto Don Juan is almost completely surrounded by rocky volcanic shores, leading me to believe that, like Puerto Escondido, it had once been the caldera of a volcano. Also, like Puerto Escondido, it featured a “window” through which we could see islands in the Bay of L.A. proper. It was a pretty spot.
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| Brad & Rene in the Bay of L.A. |
We launched the dinghy but, after we had a celebratory glass of wine and took a selfie to celebrate having reached our goal, we didn’t feel like going ashore. It was still rather cold. We had spent the entire day in long pants and long-sleeved shirts. It certainly didn’t feel like May in Baja. We lounged and enjoyed the scenery. I tried to write, but the battery in my computer was dead and required charging. I read a Wilbur Smith novel, instead.
We could barely be bothered to eat dinner, but Brad eventually grilled some pork chops while I made spaghetti with the last of our pesto stretched with butter and parmesan cheese. We passed a very calm night.
May 3, 2024
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| Shells at Puerto Don Juan |
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| Morning in Puerto Don Juan |
As usual, we were excited to explore and arose by 6:00. The anchorage was glassy at dawn. I took a few pictures and then heated water for our morning beverages. After Brad had his coffee, we decided to go ashore to explore before breakfast. First, we headed for the sandy beach. It was littered with clam shells and another species that looked like small conchs. We wandered around, taking pictures. The ocotillos were thinking about blooming but weren’t quite ready to grace us with their crimson glory. I spied a cholla, which kept me from venturing off the path which led across an isthmus to the other side. I declined to follow it to its end on account of my sprained foot. Brad had gone the opposite direction, anyway, and I headed that way.
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| Brad on the Beach |
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| The Beach at Puerto Don Juan |
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| Brad on the "Window" |
When we had our fill of exploring that shore, we hopped back in the dinghy and motored over to the “window” to try to determine if it was manmade or natural. It was perfectly level on top, which made it seem unnatural, but was comprised of thin pieces of volcanic shingle. We decided it was natural although I had no idea how it had ended up there.
We had
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| Shingle on the Window |
intended to get a move on after our exploration but were visited by Gary from
Trinity and spent an hour chatting with him about cruising in the northern part of the Gulf of California. Then Brad spent an hour or so unclogging our septic line so that we could pump our holding tank overboard when we got far enough offshore. The macerator pump had been refusing to start and we feared it needed replacing, but that was not the case. Brad was able to use the vacuum to blow enough gunk out of the hose to get it working. The hose would need to be cleared or replaced when we were somewhere with access to parts.
By noon, we were finally ready to leave Puerto Don Juan. We raised the anchor and motored back out of the anchorage, following our inward track. Once in open water, we headed into the Bay of L.A. and motored past Isla Cabeza de Caballo (Horsehead Island) and then between Isla Bota (Boot Island) and Isla La Ventana (The Window Island.) As we passed La Ventana, we saw the small arch that gave it its name. It looked like a mini Cabo San Lucas. We had wanted to stop for lunch in the anchorage on La Ventana, but it was very shallow and very windy, so we decided to play it safe and continued on past Isla Flecha (Arrow Island) and made for the village.
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| The Window on Isla La Ventana |
On our way to the village, we could see Punta La Gringa where the proposed land bridge from La Rosalillita would have reached the Gulf. It was proposed that there be a paved road from the Pacific to the Gulf through this gap in the mountains that would have allowed sailboats to be trucked across, thus saving 900 miles of chilly and often rough passage. A small marina was constructed at La Rosalillita, but the project was swiftly abandoned and the marina allowed to fill with silt.
The village lay on the other side of a sand bar marked with a light tower. We contemplated going there for lunch but the water was dirty and a bit smelly and the town didn’t invite us. We cruised through the anchorage behind the sand bar and then headed across the bay to La Mona where we anchored off the beach in 24 feet of water.
We were surprised to find substantial houses built on the beach at La Mona. The area is known for coyotes and whale sharks and we had expected it to be uninhabited. The water was cleaner than at the village, but was suffering from a red tide and wasn’t a pretty blue. Still, we were tired and just wanted to relax. Brad ate lunch and took a shower while I sat down to write and munch on smoked gouda and crackers. We certainly hadn’t explored the bay thoroughly, but we felt like we had gotten a good overview.
Brad grilled hamburgers for dinner which we ate with salad and leftover rice.
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| The La Mona Anchorage |
Our anchorage never saw any wind, that night, but did get a small swell from the wind further north. The boat lay perpendicular to the swell, so didn’t roll, but the lapping of the water against the hull and tethered dinghy kept me awake most of the night. Only two of the many homes along the beach showed a light.
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| La Mona at Sunset |
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