Into Mexico
The Victory charges along at 10 knots
We are now really getting into Mexico. Internet connections are iffy, but we have one tonight so here's the latest update on my log files.
Saturday, December 1st 2012 – Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico
A new month, a new adventure. In my original plan, we were to have been in La Paz by the middle of November and December was to be spent cruising the Sea of Cortez, learning the area.
Fate had different ideas for us though. Now it looks like we’ll make it to La Paz around the middle of December.
We shoved off from the police dock in San Diego at about 4:30 am. I called Cruise Village Marina in Ensenada ahead of time and made a reservation. My plan was to get in around 4 pm, before dark. I hate entering a new port in the dark.
Again we had no wind. We motored on endlessly through the day. It’s about sixty-five miles from San Diego to Ensenada. In the late afternoon a gentle breeze stirred.
I quickly raised the sails and we enjoyed a brief sail. The wind held and we closed in on our destination.
Somehow the day slipped past us and the sun neared the horizon. But no problem, we were there. I could see the cruise ships in the harbor and the great cranes used for unloading containers from ships.
But first, we had to douse the sails. Never an easy task, the wind and waves kicked up to a frenzy just before dark. I struggled getting the sails down. It took forever.
But wait, what was this. As the sun took its daily dip, lights began to come on south of the harbor. More specifically, the red and green lights that mark channel buoys. The charts did not show any channel markers. The cruising guide we’re using didn’t show them.
This was my first introduction to Mexican charts. I heard that they’re bad, but really? The major harbor in northwest Mexico and they don’t even show the channel markers? I mean, really?
But that’s what I have to work with. I have quickly learned not to trust the Mexican charts. Someone said that in some cases, the charts represent the original survey made by Sebastian Vicaino in the 16th century. I don’t know if this is true or not, but there is no detail and few soundings on these charts. Rocks and reefs that the cruising guide warns us about don’t even show up on the charts. The charts fail to show the contours of the land so I don’t know if a point is a high peak or a sandy beach.
I guess, like Papa would say, we’re in this by ourselves.
After a brief debate, we decided to motor to the southernmost buoy and enter the channel there. I had to believe that the local Coast Guard or Navy or whoever put the buoys there knew more that the cartographers from another century.
It took us another half hour to steam down to the beginning of the channel. Then we entered it and steamed back to the harbor mouth. It was now fully dark.
At the mouth of the harbor, we noticed a giant cruise ship departing from the dock. Ahead of the cruise ship was a pilot boat. They came roaring up to us and told us that we had to get out of the channel.
“The water eez plenty deep,” a crewman yelled to us. Youza. If I had known the water was deep, I could have saved us an hour going down to the channel mouth.
Following instructions, we vacated the channel.
A heavily accented voice broke the silence over the VHF radio. “Sailing vessel entering Ensenada, thees eez the cruise ship, Preencis of the Sea, over.”
“Princess of the Sea, this is the Victory. Over. “
“We toorning to 270 degrees past first green buoy. What eez your intention? Over”
“We’ll maintain our heading and pass you to starboard. Over.”
“Very gud, We keep you on starboard side. Preencis of the Seas out.”
“Roger that. Victory out.”
The cruise ship cut closer to the buoy than Dennis Connor in an America’s Cup race. They were right on top of us. I put the helm hard over and missed smacking them and wondered why they had bothered calling me. They didn’t do at all what they said they would.
The little ballet outside the break water cost us another half hour. When the cruise ship passed, we picked our way into the harbor and tried to find our marina.
I had looked at our cruising guide before entering the harbor and had the image in my mind. Dawn was extremely nervous. She insisted that the opening to our marina was over there. I knew it was right here.
The water quickly shoaled. I knew the entrance was this way, but our depth was only eleven feet. Dawn was as nervous as a long-tiled cat in a room full of rockers.
“Let’s never come into a harbor in the dark again,” she pleaded.
The pilot boat came up behind us.
“Be careful. Eez rock to starboard.”
“Thank you, I see it on sonar.”
“You follow us een, no?”
I gratefully followed the pilot boat in and made for our slip.
I choose the slip on the Internet because it was a straight shot getting in. Nobody bothered to tell us how narrow the slip was.
Dawn dropped our fenders over the side, then began to soap the sides of the boat so that it could squeeze in past the big motor yacht on the other side of the slip.
A couple of folks from other boats came running over to handle lines for us. Despite my best efforts to crash the boat, we got in with no damage and no casualties.
A salty looking chap with a canvas hat and full beard invited us over to his boat for dinner. “I have a French chef on board cooking now. Let me go over and see if there’s enough for two more.”
He didn’t have to ask us twice.
The boat turned out to be an 87-foot ketch rigged motor sailor. For you landlubbers, that’s a boat with sails for auxiliary power when the wind is blowing in your direction, but that relies principally on its engine for propulsion.
James gave us the tour while the chef prepared the feast.
I don’t remember the name of the boat, but James said it was used in the original King Kong movie. One of the cabins was labeled “DW Griffith.”
She showed her age. Built in the 1930’s, she was not up to yacht standards in the cabin, but the beams and framework were gigantic. Everything on the boat was giant-sized. The big old diesel was taller than I am. It had a direct drive to the prop, so to put it in reverse, you have to stop the engine and start it again in the opposite direction.
The cool thing is that is has a telegraph to the pilot house. The skipper signals the engine room what he wants and the engineers follow his orders.
That’s right, I said engineers. In order to run the boat, you have to have someone down in the engine room full time.
Baptiste, the French chef, prepared T-bone steaks, roasted potatoes, pureed yams and a green salad for us.
We were beat from the work of the day and the stress of landing in the dark. James and Baptiste may have saved our lives.
After dinner we made a hasty retreat to the Victory and crawled into bed.
Saturday, December 1st 2012 – Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico
A new month, a new adventure. In my original plan, we were to have been in La Paz by the middle of November and December was to be spent cruising the Sea of Cortez, learning the area.
Fate had different ideas for us though. Now it looks like we’ll make it to La Paz around the middle of December.
We shoved off from the police dock in San Diego at about 4:30 am. I called Cruise Village Marina in Ensenada ahead of time and made a reservation. My plan was to get in around 4 pm, before dark. I hate entering a new port in the dark.
Again we had no wind. We motored on endlessly through the day. It’s about sixty-five miles from San Diego to Ensenada. In the late afternoon a gentle breeze stirred.
I quickly raised the sails and we enjoyed a brief sail. The wind held and we closed in on our destination.
Somehow the day slipped past us and the sun neared the horizon. But no problem, we were there. I could see the cruise ships in the harbor and the great cranes used for unloading containers from ships.
But first, we had to douse the sails. Never an easy task, the wind and waves kicked up to a frenzy just before dark. I struggled getting the sails down. It took forever.
But wait, what was this. As the sun took its daily dip, lights began to come on south of the harbor. More specifically, the red and green lights that mark channel buoys. The charts did not show any channel markers. The cruising guide we’re using didn’t show them.
This was my first introduction to Mexican charts. I heard that they’re bad, but really? The major harbor in northwest Mexico and they don’t even show the channel markers? I mean, really?
But that’s what I have to work with. I have quickly learned not to trust the Mexican charts. Someone said that in some cases, the charts represent the original survey made by Sebastian Vicaino in the 16th century. I don’t know if this is true or not, but there is no detail and few soundings on these charts. Rocks and reefs that the cruising guide warns us about don’t even show up on the charts. The charts fail to show the contours of the land so I don’t know if a point is a high peak or a sandy beach.
I guess, like Papa would say, we’re in this by ourselves.
After a brief debate, we decided to motor to the southernmost buoy and enter the channel there. I had to believe that the local Coast Guard or Navy or whoever put the buoys there knew more that the cartographers from another century.
It took us another half hour to steam down to the beginning of the channel. Then we entered it and steamed back to the harbor mouth. It was now fully dark.
At the mouth of the harbor, we noticed a giant cruise ship departing from the dock. Ahead of the cruise ship was a pilot boat. They came roaring up to us and told us that we had to get out of the channel.
“The water eez plenty deep,” a crewman yelled to us. Youza. If I had known the water was deep, I could have saved us an hour going down to the channel mouth.
Following instructions, we vacated the channel.
A heavily accented voice broke the silence over the VHF radio. “Sailing vessel entering Ensenada, thees eez the cruise ship, Preencis of the Sea, over.”
“Princess of the Sea, this is the Victory. Over. “
“We toorning to 270 degrees past first green buoy. What eez your intention? Over”
“We’ll maintain our heading and pass you to starboard. Over.”
“Very gud, We keep you on starboard side. Preencis of the Seas out.”
“Roger that. Victory out.”
The cruise ship cut closer to the buoy than Dennis Connor in an America’s Cup race. They were right on top of us. I put the helm hard over and missed smacking them and wondered why they had bothered calling me. They didn’t do at all what they said they would.
The little ballet outside the break water cost us another half hour. When the cruise ship passed, we picked our way into the harbor and tried to find our marina.
I had looked at our cruising guide before entering the harbor and had the image in my mind. Dawn was extremely nervous. She insisted that the opening to our marina was over there. I knew it was right here.
The water quickly shoaled. I knew the entrance was this way, but our depth was only eleven feet. Dawn was as nervous as a long-tiled cat in a room full of rockers.
“Let’s never come into a harbor in the dark again,” she pleaded.
The pilot boat came up behind us.
“Be careful. Eez rock to starboard.”
“Thank you, I see it on sonar.”
“You follow us een, no?”
I gratefully followed the pilot boat in and made for our slip.
I choose the slip on the Internet because it was a straight shot getting in. Nobody bothered to tell us how narrow the slip was.
Dawn dropped our fenders over the side, then began to soap the sides of the boat so that it could squeeze in past the big motor yacht on the other side of the slip.
A couple of folks from other boats came running over to handle lines for us. Despite my best efforts to crash the boat, we got in with no damage and no casualties.
A salty looking chap with a canvas hat and full beard invited us over to his boat for dinner. “I have a French chef on board cooking now. Let me go over and see if there’s enough for two more.”
He didn’t have to ask us twice.
The boat turned out to be an 87-foot ketch rigged motor sailor. For you landlubbers, that’s a boat with sails for auxiliary power when the wind is blowing in your direction, but that relies principally on its engine for propulsion.
James gave us the tour while the chef prepared the feast.
I don’t remember the name of the boat, but James said it was used in the original King Kong movie. One of the cabins was labeled “DW Griffith.”
She showed her age. Built in the 1930’s, she was not up to yacht standards in the cabin, but the beams and framework were gigantic. Everything on the boat was giant-sized. The big old diesel was taller than I am. It had a direct drive to the prop, so to put it in reverse, you have to stop the engine and start it again in the opposite direction.
The cool thing is that is has a telegraph to the pilot house. The skipper signals the engine room what he wants and the engineers follow his orders.
That’s right, I said engineers. In order to run the boat, you have to have someone down in the engine room full time.
Baptiste, the French chef, prepared T-bone steaks, roasted potatoes, pureed yams and a green salad for us.
We were beat from the work of the day and the stress of landing in the dark. James and Baptiste may have saved our lives.
After dinner we made a hasty retreat to the Victory and crawled into bed.
The boat monkey as Julia Child
Sunday, December 2nd 2012 – Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico
The world looks much better after a good night’s sleep. The Port Offices are closed on weekends, so we can’t check in. The marina office is also closed. We decided to have a quiet day and check in tomorrow.
I awoke early and made coffee as usual. MEXICO, we’re finally in Mexico. OK, we’re still not very far from the border, but we’ve finally made it here. I gently woke Dawn and offered to buy her a real Mexican breakfast in town.
We got dressed and headed into town. Ensenada is about the size of Portland, Oregon, but the downtown area is pure Old Mexico. The shops all had barkers offering us the best deals in town. The restaurants had people on the street waving menus at you. You can tell that this is a cruise ship destination. While we were there, five cruise ships came and went.
We walked several blocks to get a feel for the area, then chose one of the first restaurants we saw. It was on the second floor with open windows. I expected a romantic view of the bay, instead we got a unromantic view of the commercial port, fishing boats and the fish market.
I had huevos rancheros, which were quite good, and Dawn had cammarones (prawns) ala Diablo. The camaronnes were excellent as well, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the cammarones ala Diablo that Mindy made for us back in Lynnwood.
After breakfast, we continued to explore the town. I was surprised to see an American Christmas happening there. All the shops and restaurants had Christmas trees. Santa was everywhere. Even the cell phone carrier, TelCel, had a moose in snow for its Christmas marketing campaign.
I never saw this much Americanization of Christmas in central Mexico.
We wandered through the streets and got the lay of the land. We stopped in the seafood market on the wharf and marveled at all the different varieties of fish. We bought a big bag of clams for dinner.
We didn’t get to eat the clams though. By the time we got through exploring it was after dinner time so we stopped for a quick taco on the way home.
Back at the boat, we watched a movie, then turned in.
The world looks much better after a good night’s sleep. The Port Offices are closed on weekends, so we can’t check in. The marina office is also closed. We decided to have a quiet day and check in tomorrow.
I awoke early and made coffee as usual. MEXICO, we’re finally in Mexico. OK, we’re still not very far from the border, but we’ve finally made it here. I gently woke Dawn and offered to buy her a real Mexican breakfast in town.
We got dressed and headed into town. Ensenada is about the size of Portland, Oregon, but the downtown area is pure Old Mexico. The shops all had barkers offering us the best deals in town. The restaurants had people on the street waving menus at you. You can tell that this is a cruise ship destination. While we were there, five cruise ships came and went.
We walked several blocks to get a feel for the area, then chose one of the first restaurants we saw. It was on the second floor with open windows. I expected a romantic view of the bay, instead we got a unromantic view of the commercial port, fishing boats and the fish market.
I had huevos rancheros, which were quite good, and Dawn had cammarones (prawns) ala Diablo. The camaronnes were excellent as well, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the cammarones ala Diablo that Mindy made for us back in Lynnwood.
After breakfast, we continued to explore the town. I was surprised to see an American Christmas happening there. All the shops and restaurants had Christmas trees. Santa was everywhere. Even the cell phone carrier, TelCel, had a moose in snow for its Christmas marketing campaign.
I never saw this much Americanization of Christmas in central Mexico.
We wandered through the streets and got the lay of the land. We stopped in the seafood market on the wharf and marveled at all the different varieties of fish. We bought a big bag of clams for dinner.
We didn’t get to eat the clams though. By the time we got through exploring it was after dinner time so we stopped for a quick taco on the way home.
Back at the boat, we watched a movie, then turned in.
Ensenada from the sea
Monday December 2rd 2012 - Ensenada Mexico
Monday morning. Time to check into the marina and Mexico.
I gathered the ship’s papers and walked up to the harbormaster’s office. Jonathon, who speaks excellent English, helped us check into the marina. To my astonishment, they only charged us $91 for four days of moorage. That’s less than half of what their web site stated.
After he checked us in, he asked for our ship’s papers and filled out all of the forms necessary for entry into Mexico. The he called Enrique to drive us to the Migracion office.
Two other sailors were already in Enrique’s car and he took us all to get checked in. He was marvelous. He took our papers from window to window.
The clerks were all familiar with Enrique. They asked how his aunt Angela was doing or if he went fishing this weekend. They never spoke to us and never questioned any of the papers.
We dreaded the inspection of the boat. We were told (and I have experienced) that Mexico doesn’t allow any American meat in the country. We had several pounds of various kinds of meat in the freezer that we hadn’t been able to eat yet. I didn’t’ want to lose it, or our fruit or anything else.
They never even came to the boat. Enrique’s word was good enough.
The process was easy, but lengthy and costly. I walked out of the office several hundred dollars lighter.
Next we went to TelCel to get Mexican cell phones. This was not easy. The salesperson, Karen, spoke excellent English and we conducted our business in that language. I finally broke down and joined the 21st Century. I got smart phones.
But they didn’t have the right phones in stock. They needed to order them. Actually, they kept their stock in a truck parked out back, but one of the employees had taken the truck on a personal errand and wouldn’t be back until after lunch. If we could come back around 3 pm, Karen could complete our order.
We wandered around town and found a place to have lunch. We returned closer to 4:30. It took until after 6 pm to get our phones set up and she still needed some pieces from the truck. Once again, the employee had left for the day and taken the truck. Could we come back mañana?
By now it was dinner time and I was in no mood to go back to the boat and cook. Once again we found a local restaurant for a quick bite. I found us eating in town more often than not, spending money we didn’t have to spend, because it was too far to walk back to the boat for a meal.
The cell phone adventure reminded me that we are, after all, in a foreign country. They don’t do things the way we do in America. Mañana is good enough for them. There’s no point in getting frustrated. We just have to adjust.
Tuesday, December 3rd 2012 – Ensenada Mexico
Today we completed the cell phone episode. We got Enrique to give us a ride back into town and camped out in the TelCel office until Karen could help us.
She was great, all through the trial. Today she showed us how to actually use our phones and connect to the Internet. One of the things she was going to have for us today was a users’ manual printed in English.
She didn’t. It’s twenty-four pages long and she didn’t want to waste the paper. Instead she emailed a link to Dawn to get us to the users’ manual on line.
One small problem. Without the manual, we couldn’t figure out how to connect our computers to the Internet to get the email. Caramba.
After TelCel, we went on a shopping expedition. I needed to get the band on my new watch shortened and we needed groceries for our trip south. It will take about two weeks to get to La Paz and there are no sizeable cities (excluding Cabo San Lucas, which we have been warned to avoid) between Ensenada and La Paz.
There is a Wal-Mart outside of town, but we preferred to go to the local super market in town. A mistake. Their selection was poor and the quality of their meats made me nervous. We couldn’t find American cuts of beef there either. What we did buy was good. Nice flavor, nice and tender, but not what we’re used to.
Loaded down with our purchases, we caught a cab back to the marina.
After we stowed everything, and while I was getting the Victory ready for sea, Dawn made a clam linguini out of our fresh clams. It was the perfect end to our stay in Ensenada.
Monday morning. Time to check into the marina and Mexico.
I gathered the ship’s papers and walked up to the harbormaster’s office. Jonathon, who speaks excellent English, helped us check into the marina. To my astonishment, they only charged us $91 for four days of moorage. That’s less than half of what their web site stated.
After he checked us in, he asked for our ship’s papers and filled out all of the forms necessary for entry into Mexico. The he called Enrique to drive us to the Migracion office.
Two other sailors were already in Enrique’s car and he took us all to get checked in. He was marvelous. He took our papers from window to window.
The clerks were all familiar with Enrique. They asked how his aunt Angela was doing or if he went fishing this weekend. They never spoke to us and never questioned any of the papers.
We dreaded the inspection of the boat. We were told (and I have experienced) that Mexico doesn’t allow any American meat in the country. We had several pounds of various kinds of meat in the freezer that we hadn’t been able to eat yet. I didn’t’ want to lose it, or our fruit or anything else.
They never even came to the boat. Enrique’s word was good enough.
The process was easy, but lengthy and costly. I walked out of the office several hundred dollars lighter.
Next we went to TelCel to get Mexican cell phones. This was not easy. The salesperson, Karen, spoke excellent English and we conducted our business in that language. I finally broke down and joined the 21st Century. I got smart phones.
But they didn’t have the right phones in stock. They needed to order them. Actually, they kept their stock in a truck parked out back, but one of the employees had taken the truck on a personal errand and wouldn’t be back until after lunch. If we could come back around 3 pm, Karen could complete our order.
We wandered around town and found a place to have lunch. We returned closer to 4:30. It took until after 6 pm to get our phones set up and she still needed some pieces from the truck. Once again, the employee had left for the day and taken the truck. Could we come back mañana?
By now it was dinner time and I was in no mood to go back to the boat and cook. Once again we found a local restaurant for a quick bite. I found us eating in town more often than not, spending money we didn’t have to spend, because it was too far to walk back to the boat for a meal.
The cell phone adventure reminded me that we are, after all, in a foreign country. They don’t do things the way we do in America. Mañana is good enough for them. There’s no point in getting frustrated. We just have to adjust.
Tuesday, December 3rd 2012 – Ensenada Mexico
Today we completed the cell phone episode. We got Enrique to give us a ride back into town and camped out in the TelCel office until Karen could help us.
She was great, all through the trial. Today she showed us how to actually use our phones and connect to the Internet. One of the things she was going to have for us today was a users’ manual printed in English.
She didn’t. It’s twenty-four pages long and she didn’t want to waste the paper. Instead she emailed a link to Dawn to get us to the users’ manual on line.
One small problem. Without the manual, we couldn’t figure out how to connect our computers to the Internet to get the email. Caramba.
After TelCel, we went on a shopping expedition. I needed to get the band on my new watch shortened and we needed groceries for our trip south. It will take about two weeks to get to La Paz and there are no sizeable cities (excluding Cabo San Lucas, which we have been warned to avoid) between Ensenada and La Paz.
There is a Wal-Mart outside of town, but we preferred to go to the local super market in town. A mistake. Their selection was poor and the quality of their meats made me nervous. We couldn’t find American cuts of beef there either. What we did buy was good. Nice flavor, nice and tender, but not what we’re used to.
Loaded down with our purchases, we caught a cab back to the marina.
After we stowed everything, and while I was getting the Victory ready for sea, Dawn made a clam linguini out of our fresh clams. It was the perfect end to our stay in Ensenada.
The Victory running free down the coast of Mexico
Wednesday, December 4th 2012 – Puerta Santo Tomas, Mexico
We are at sea again and wonder of wonders, we have wind. And not just any wind, but the perfect wind. It is a northwester of about fifteen knots. That puts the wind on our starboard quarter and we are broad reaching down the coast. (B road reaching means the wind is coming from the quadrant behind and to one side of the boat, pushing it along.)
This is the Victory’s best point of sail and she is flying. With a clear blue sky and cobalt blue sea, she is kicking up her heels and romping down the wind at a steady eight knots. That’s about as good as I ever got out of the Audacious on a steady run, and she was a racing boat. With this kind of wind, we could have left many of the boats in the Ha Ha fleet in our wake.
With the wind so sprightly, I didn’t even bother to put up the stay sail, we were already doing eight knots.
Porpoise escorted us out of Ensenada and we saw them all day. Dawn had a large pod come play with her while I was taking a watch below. We always seem to see large pods of them in the early morning hours.
Speaking of early morning, I set the alarm for 4 am this morning. Not wanting to enter a strange anchorage after dark, I opted to leave a familiar one in the dark and sail through the day. We arrived at Puerta Santo Tomas at about 4:30 pm. The sun sets at 4:42.
In the late afternoon, the wind velocity increases. As the land cools off, the water is still warm and the warm air rising from the ocean creates a vacuum that the land air rushes to fill. This is great for sailing, but makes striking the sails (taking the sails down) difficult for one person.
Dawn needs to stay on the helm (wheel) to keep the boat pointed into the wind while I take the sails in. The other sails are not a problem, but the main is so big that one person (even a super hero sailor) can’t handle it by himself.
I lowered the jib and started on the main. To my surprise, Dawn was on top of the cabin helping me take in the sail. She had set Henry the autopilot to steer us into the wind. My previous experiments with this failed because I throttled back so that we weren’t going too far off course.
Dawn didn’t throttle back. The engine produced enough thrust to keep Henry working and viola, I had an extra hand.
In the twilight, we found a safe anchorage and dropped the hook. We’re getting pretty good at setting and retrieving the anchor. With me on the windlass and Dawn on the helm, we’ve worked out a series of hand signals with which to communicate. To watch us, you would think we knew what we were doing.
We anchored in twenty feet of water inside the curve of the point. The sea was calm, but the wind was blowing. As soon as the anchor bit the bottom, the boat windvaned into the wind. It blew for most of the night, but our ground tackle is superb (that’s better than good) and the bottom was sand, perfect for our CQR anchor. Sometime early in the morning the wind died, but I was long asleep by then.
Tonight for dinner Dawn made a pot of chili. I was so hungry and tired that I never had better. Remember what Connie’s mother always use to say, “get them hungry enough and anything tastes good.” (In case you’re wondering, this is not a slam on Dawn’s cooking.)
We are at sea again and wonder of wonders, we have wind. And not just any wind, but the perfect wind. It is a northwester of about fifteen knots. That puts the wind on our starboard quarter and we are broad reaching down the coast. (B road reaching means the wind is coming from the quadrant behind and to one side of the boat, pushing it along.)
This is the Victory’s best point of sail and she is flying. With a clear blue sky and cobalt blue sea, she is kicking up her heels and romping down the wind at a steady eight knots. That’s about as good as I ever got out of the Audacious on a steady run, and she was a racing boat. With this kind of wind, we could have left many of the boats in the Ha Ha fleet in our wake.
With the wind so sprightly, I didn’t even bother to put up the stay sail, we were already doing eight knots.
Porpoise escorted us out of Ensenada and we saw them all day. Dawn had a large pod come play with her while I was taking a watch below. We always seem to see large pods of them in the early morning hours.
Speaking of early morning, I set the alarm for 4 am this morning. Not wanting to enter a strange anchorage after dark, I opted to leave a familiar one in the dark and sail through the day. We arrived at Puerta Santo Tomas at about 4:30 pm. The sun sets at 4:42.
In the late afternoon, the wind velocity increases. As the land cools off, the water is still warm and the warm air rising from the ocean creates a vacuum that the land air rushes to fill. This is great for sailing, but makes striking the sails (taking the sails down) difficult for one person.
Dawn needs to stay on the helm (wheel) to keep the boat pointed into the wind while I take the sails in. The other sails are not a problem, but the main is so big that one person (even a super hero sailor) can’t handle it by himself.
I lowered the jib and started on the main. To my surprise, Dawn was on top of the cabin helping me take in the sail. She had set Henry the autopilot to steer us into the wind. My previous experiments with this failed because I throttled back so that we weren’t going too far off course.
Dawn didn’t throttle back. The engine produced enough thrust to keep Henry working and viola, I had an extra hand.
In the twilight, we found a safe anchorage and dropped the hook. We’re getting pretty good at setting and retrieving the anchor. With me on the windlass and Dawn on the helm, we’ve worked out a series of hand signals with which to communicate. To watch us, you would think we knew what we were doing.
We anchored in twenty feet of water inside the curve of the point. The sea was calm, but the wind was blowing. As soon as the anchor bit the bottom, the boat windvaned into the wind. It blew for most of the night, but our ground tackle is superb (that’s better than good) and the bottom was sand, perfect for our CQR anchor. Sometime early in the morning the wind died, but I was long asleep by then.
Tonight for dinner Dawn made a pot of chili. I was so hungry and tired that I never had better. Remember what Connie’s mother always use to say, “get them hungry enough and anything tastes good.” (In case you’re wondering, this is not a slam on Dawn’s cooking.)
Cape Colonet
Thursday, December 5th 2012 – Cabo Colonet
Once again I was up at 4 am to get the anchor pulled and the boat going. Let me tell you, there is no joy in getting up that early.
However, there is joy in the wind. Once again we have northwesterly winds. Today it’s a little calmer, about ten knots. That prompted me to put up the stay sail (pronounced stays’l) and I learned another lesson.
The boat is even faster in the lighter wind with the stays’l up. The reason for this is that the big Genoa jib (genny) overlaps the stays’l and creates a wind tunnel through which the wind is funneled. According to Bernoulli’s theorem, the wind must accelerate to reach the end of the tunnel.
The affect of this is like having a jet engine on the foredeck. In lighter winds the Victory picked up her skirts and took off. We hit ten knots. I never thought I would see her go that fast.
It was amazing to sit on the end of the bow sprit and watch her cleave through the water. She reminds me of a runaway freight train. All 60,000 pounds of her and all of that momentum charging forward, splitting the seas aside. Watching the power of it sends thrills down my spine. This is what I signed on for.
Clear skies, sunny weather, a good wind and a good boat. What more could you ask?
We are now in Papa’s fishing grounds. (If you haven’t read about this yet, you can order my book, Blue Water & Me, from Amazon.com.) I remember him telling tales of Cape Colonet and Abreojos and Cedros Island. We’re there now and somehow, I feel his presence with me. I hope he helps me make good decisions about seamanship.
As usual, we had porpoise escorts several times today. We haven’t seen any whales yet, but it’s the season. They are on their way (if they’re not there already) to their breeding grounds all around Baja.
We pulled into the anchorage in the lee of Cape Colonet just before sunset and found a better anchorage than last night at San Tomas. We got the hook down, fixed dinner and flopped into bed. This sailing is tiring work
Once again I was up at 4 am to get the anchor pulled and the boat going. Let me tell you, there is no joy in getting up that early.
However, there is joy in the wind. Once again we have northwesterly winds. Today it’s a little calmer, about ten knots. That prompted me to put up the stay sail (pronounced stays’l) and I learned another lesson.
The boat is even faster in the lighter wind with the stays’l up. The reason for this is that the big Genoa jib (genny) overlaps the stays’l and creates a wind tunnel through which the wind is funneled. According to Bernoulli’s theorem, the wind must accelerate to reach the end of the tunnel.
The affect of this is like having a jet engine on the foredeck. In lighter winds the Victory picked up her skirts and took off. We hit ten knots. I never thought I would see her go that fast.
It was amazing to sit on the end of the bow sprit and watch her cleave through the water. She reminds me of a runaway freight train. All 60,000 pounds of her and all of that momentum charging forward, splitting the seas aside. Watching the power of it sends thrills down my spine. This is what I signed on for.
Clear skies, sunny weather, a good wind and a good boat. What more could you ask?
We are now in Papa’s fishing grounds. (If you haven’t read about this yet, you can order my book, Blue Water & Me, from Amazon.com.) I remember him telling tales of Cape Colonet and Abreojos and Cedros Island. We’re there now and somehow, I feel his presence with me. I hope he helps me make good decisions about seamanship.
As usual, we had porpoise escorts several times today. We haven’t seen any whales yet, but it’s the season. They are on their way (if they’re not there already) to their breeding grounds all around Baja.
We pulled into the anchorage in the lee of Cape Colonet just before sunset and found a better anchorage than last night at San Tomas. We got the hook down, fixed dinner and flopped into bed. This sailing is tiring work