Charter Day 2
Day 1 draws to a close
Sunday, May 19th 2013 – Ensenada del Candelero
Dawn set out a pastry tray and set up the coffee before we went to bed. All I had to do was turn on the coffee machine. It’s not as easy as it sounds.
I broke our big French Press, so we got out my fancy-dancy coffee maker that I brought from home. It has timers and brew strength and, if it’s Wednesday, it will brush your teeth for you. It just takes a Master’s Degree in engineering to figure out how to turn it on.
I didn’t, I struggled and struggled with it and finally Dawn got up, pushed a button and we had coffee for our guests.
Our guests are now officially in vacation mode. Dawn had pastries and fruit for them when they woke up, as well as the coffee and tea. When everyone was up, she scrambled some eggs with bacon to crown off the breakfast.
The day started at a leisurely pace. We only had about five miles to travel to our next stop. The guys went ashore (this time I dinghied them in) and took a hike up the canyon. While they were busy, Dawn prepped food for the day and I cleaned and stowed the BBQ.
By the time they came back, it was lunch time so Dawn fed us all before we raised anchor and headed to Ensenada del Candelero. Since we were only going a few miles and wouldn’t be sailing, I left the canvas canopy up. The experiment worked out well, we had shade from the blazing sun and the canopy didn’t blow off while we were motoring.
Ensenada del Candelero means candelabra cove. It is named for a rock in the middle of the bay that someone thought resembled a candelabra. I think the rock looks more like a miniature Gothic cathedral.
The snorkeling is supposed to be good on the reefs surrounding the rock, so Dawn got our guests set up with snorkeling gear while I set up the BBQ. I made ribs for dinner and wanted to get them started slow cooking.
Dawn set out a pastry tray and set up the coffee before we went to bed. All I had to do was turn on the coffee machine. It’s not as easy as it sounds.
I broke our big French Press, so we got out my fancy-dancy coffee maker that I brought from home. It has timers and brew strength and, if it’s Wednesday, it will brush your teeth for you. It just takes a Master’s Degree in engineering to figure out how to turn it on.
I didn’t, I struggled and struggled with it and finally Dawn got up, pushed a button and we had coffee for our guests.
Our guests are now officially in vacation mode. Dawn had pastries and fruit for them when they woke up, as well as the coffee and tea. When everyone was up, she scrambled some eggs with bacon to crown off the breakfast.
The day started at a leisurely pace. We only had about five miles to travel to our next stop. The guys went ashore (this time I dinghied them in) and took a hike up the canyon. While they were busy, Dawn prepped food for the day and I cleaned and stowed the BBQ.
By the time they came back, it was lunch time so Dawn fed us all before we raised anchor and headed to Ensenada del Candelero. Since we were only going a few miles and wouldn’t be sailing, I left the canvas canopy up. The experiment worked out well, we had shade from the blazing sun and the canopy didn’t blow off while we were motoring.
Ensenada del Candelero means candelabra cove. It is named for a rock in the middle of the bay that someone thought resembled a candelabra. I think the rock looks more like a miniature Gothic cathedral.
The snorkeling is supposed to be good on the reefs surrounding the rock, so Dawn got our guests set up with snorkeling gear while I set up the BBQ. I made ribs for dinner and wanted to get them started slow cooking.
The view from ashore
Big mistake. I started the ribs on the lowest heat on the grill and loaded the guys into the dinghy to take them to the reef. Dawn was busy in the galley tending to other stuff and forgot the ribs. I wasn’t there to watch them and naturally, they over cooked.
The guys liked the reef. I didn’t go in because I had to man the dinghy and stand by in case anyone got into trouble, but they say there were all sorts of reef fish. I guess part of being the crew of a charter boat is that you don’t get to do the fun activities with your guests. You have too much work to do to stop and play.
When we got back to the boat, I tried to rescue the ribs. No one complained, but they were far from my best effort. Never again will I go off and expect someone else to watch them for me.
By the time I had dinner ready, I was a sweat-pig. I was hot, tired and grumpy, so I jumped in the bay. As the cool water closed over me, I felt like this was what I had come all the way down here for. I spent many a night fantasizing about anchoring in a secluded cove and diving over the side into the warm, clear water.
Our thermometer says that the water temperature was ninety-four degrees, but it didn’t feel that warm to me. It still felt cool to the skin, but I never had that initial shock when you dive in cold water.
I love swimming in salt water. There is so much buoyancy that you can just sit there in the water and float. The water in the Sea of Cortez is not as clear as I remember it on the Pacific side, but it is clean and beautiful.
You can tell the depth of the water by the color. As you enter the bay, the water is a deep, dark blue. It lightens to a shade of green as the bottom comes up. Then there are patches of almost florescent azure where the sandy bottom is close to the surface. Stay away from those if you don’t want to run your boat aground.
The islands are desert, covered with scrub and cactus. However, at the heads of many of the bays, there are little fresh water lagoons that support lots of greenery. These are usually at the foot of an arroyo that digs deep into the island. The arroyo channels the rain runoff and stores it in little pools at the bottom. It’s delightful to see the little lush green oases at the edge of the dessert.
The islands themselves are a geologists dream. As a matter of fact, J2 IS a geologist and spent many an hour explaining the various rock formations to us. The wind and sea have stripped the islands bare of top soil in many areas, exposing the bed rock. You can see the layers that gradually built the islands over the decades. There are volcanic eruptions and cinder cones, there is sand stone formed on the bottom of the ocean, there are basalt columns where the pressure from beneath forced molten lava up faults in the rock and there are layers of stone where lava oozed out to cover the sedimentary rock below it. Each layer has its own colors making the cliffs look like a layer cake.
Once again, I spent a sleepless night. As the Coromel winds blew through the anchorage, I was awake at all hours worrying and checking that the anchor was holding. As always, it held fast and we were safe, I just didn’t get much sleep.
The guys liked the reef. I didn’t go in because I had to man the dinghy and stand by in case anyone got into trouble, but they say there were all sorts of reef fish. I guess part of being the crew of a charter boat is that you don’t get to do the fun activities with your guests. You have too much work to do to stop and play.
When we got back to the boat, I tried to rescue the ribs. No one complained, but they were far from my best effort. Never again will I go off and expect someone else to watch them for me.
By the time I had dinner ready, I was a sweat-pig. I was hot, tired and grumpy, so I jumped in the bay. As the cool water closed over me, I felt like this was what I had come all the way down here for. I spent many a night fantasizing about anchoring in a secluded cove and diving over the side into the warm, clear water.
Our thermometer says that the water temperature was ninety-four degrees, but it didn’t feel that warm to me. It still felt cool to the skin, but I never had that initial shock when you dive in cold water.
I love swimming in salt water. There is so much buoyancy that you can just sit there in the water and float. The water in the Sea of Cortez is not as clear as I remember it on the Pacific side, but it is clean and beautiful.
You can tell the depth of the water by the color. As you enter the bay, the water is a deep, dark blue. It lightens to a shade of green as the bottom comes up. Then there are patches of almost florescent azure where the sandy bottom is close to the surface. Stay away from those if you don’t want to run your boat aground.
The islands are desert, covered with scrub and cactus. However, at the heads of many of the bays, there are little fresh water lagoons that support lots of greenery. These are usually at the foot of an arroyo that digs deep into the island. The arroyo channels the rain runoff and stores it in little pools at the bottom. It’s delightful to see the little lush green oases at the edge of the dessert.
The islands themselves are a geologists dream. As a matter of fact, J2 IS a geologist and spent many an hour explaining the various rock formations to us. The wind and sea have stripped the islands bare of top soil in many areas, exposing the bed rock. You can see the layers that gradually built the islands over the decades. There are volcanic eruptions and cinder cones, there is sand stone formed on the bottom of the ocean, there are basalt columns where the pressure from beneath forced molten lava up faults in the rock and there are layers of stone where lava oozed out to cover the sedimentary rock below it. Each layer has its own colors making the cliffs look like a layer cake.
Once again, I spent a sleepless night. As the Coromel winds blew through the anchorage, I was awake at all hours worrying and checking that the anchor was holding. As always, it held fast and we were safe, I just didn’t get much sleep.