We finally departed La Paz on April 11th, after 14 weeks of extensive boat projects. Although there was a fresh breeze from the north, we decided to go anyway, just to cast lines and get out of the marina. It's amazing how that simple act can so radically change your attitude. The focus shifts from "to do" lists, projects and the fishbowl-like life in the marina, to what's right in front of you. Sun, water, wind and the boat, simple as that. It always feels good to cast off, but this time was especially sweet.
During our time in La Paz, we managed to get A LOT of work done on our boat / floating home. Mark put weeks into our electrical system, installing new batteries and solar panels, rewiring old solar panels, relocating our starter battery and installing a new alternator on the engine. He also spent weeks on the engine, rebuilding the starter, going through the entire cooling system, re-insulating the engine room and aligning our new propeller shaft (a VERY time consuming and delicate business). There were also days of plumbing, replacing overhead panels, installing new electronics and more. I spent weeks at the sewing machine, to the point that some of our dockmates starting teasing Mark that he was running a sweatshop and keeping me at work below decks :) On a boat of this size, everything needs to have its place, and everything needs to be secured for sea. So, I made "hammocks" and hanging pockets and storage bags of various shapes and sizes to stow our clothing, galley items and found extra stowage in the head. On a more "homey" note, we had new cushions made and I sewed pillows and curtains to match. In short, it was a super productive time, and we were able to reap the benefits of our work almost as soon as we began our trip in the Sea.
For the first day of our voyage, we just went a few hours north of La Paz, and anchored in Puerto Ballena, Isla Espiritu Santo, at a place we call The Cliffs of Insanity. The feeling of being anchored in a beautiful bay, with just one other boat in sight, is indescribable. Mark and I have decided that we wish we could bottle the feeling and share it with family and friends. We spent one more night at Espiritu Santo, then sailed north to Isla San Francisco, to hole up for a few days while a strong northerly wind blew through. Our first night there was graced with a magical sunset, pink clouds over glassy lavender water (photos forthcoming). Sitting at anchor, and waiting out the blow, I took time to actually read... for pleasure... two whole books, in three days! Although some may have found it frustrating to stay in one place, we took the opportunity to switch gears and RELAX.
Once the wind dropped, we set out, northbound in San Jose Channel, and had a decent day's sail to our anchorage at the north end of Isla San Jose. That night, we went out on deck in the last light of dusk and heard whales blowing nearby. It was so still, with no human sounds other than our voices. Picking out their location by sound, just at the edge of our vision, we heard and saw a small rorqual whale surface. At first, we thought it might be a Bryde's whale, since we'd seen one earlier in the day, but a minute later, we were proven wrong. The small whale surfaced again, followed immediately by a very large whale, and we realized it was a fin whale cow with her calf. The sound of their breathing in the dark stillness, the long, explosive exhalations, followed by shorter, resonant inhalations, was pure magic.
We left that anchorage the next morning, for a long day's run up to Isla Monserrate. Intermittent southerly winds meant that we were able to sail, or motor-sail for most of the day, and we made good time passing Islas San Diego and Santa Cruz. As we came around the east side of Monserrate Island, the breeze freshened, and we had an exciting run into the anchorage on the north side of the island. Locals refer to it as Yellowstone Beach, but we know it as Playa de Oro. It proved to be a great spot to explore and provided good protection from the strong southerly winds that blew every night. We took a hike one day, with some new friends from the sailboat Ladybug II, and then shared dinner and sunset with them that night. We got a tip from another sailor that the Space Station would be passing overhead one night, so we were able to watch that. Also had a perfect view of the full moon rising just after sunset, and the full moon setting just before sunrise the next morning. Snorkeled a little and swam every day, although the water is colder and cloudier than it normally is at this time of year due to La Nina conditions.
From Monserrate, we motored over to Puerto Escondido, for the one "pit stop" of our trip. We took a mooring for the night, which meant we could refill water, do some laundry, buy a few groceries and top off the fuel tank. It was a hit and run, but we made good use of the facilities. Then we found our favorite anchorage of the trip. We decided to head over to Bahia Marquer, on the southeastern shore of Isla del Carmen, and found a beautiful spot! We had a great view of the sunset behind, and sunrise light on the Sierra de la Giganta, and cool, fossil-bearing white cliffs just ahead of us on shore. We explored a little on land, and found layers and layers of fossilized sand dollars, bivalves and what I think were sea cucumber endoskeletons, very cool. Explored the shoreline by dinghy, and swam every day, but the viz was too poor for much snorkeling. A pod of bottlenose dolphins routinely cruised through the anchorage, and we were even able to see them at very close range from the dinghy. We turned off the outboard and they passed right by us. We could see their bodies in the shallow, turquoise water, as well as the mist from their blows when they surfaced in front of us. Marquer proved to be a quiet anchorage, where we were able to watch stars at night, and listen to only natural sounds for several days.
We took one day to motor up to Loreto, and anchor off of town for a quick visit. A little stroll up to the mission (first Spanish mission in the Californias, established in 1697) and some tacos for lunch, and then we were back in the dinghy, and out to Cheers. We had a great sail east toward the north end of Carmen Island, and ultimately returned to Bahia Marquer. Our next anchorage was out on the northeastern tip of Carmen, at Punta Perico. We only stayed a night, as it's a very exposed anchorage and some friends invited us to dinner back at Isla Danzante, but it was peaceful with dramatic rock formations onshore. In the morning, before getting underway, we watched what we thought was a mobula (small manta ray) being chased by a larger predatory fish, as it thrashed at the surface. Turns out it was actually three mobulas, and we think they may have been trying to mate, since they swam right up to our stern, oblivious of our presence and were practically on top of one another.
Our last anchorages were on the west side of Isla Danzante, where we went to meet our friends Dick and Bev from S/V Mistral. We hadn't seen them since La Paz, and it was great fun to catch up. They've been cruising all over the world for the past 27 years, so it was fun to share stories, good wine and dinner. While anchored at Danzante, we saw some of the most incredible bioluminescence either of us has seen. On the dinghy ride back to Cheers from Mistral, we watched the glowing green trails of fish running away from us. Once we were back aboard, a pod of dolphins came blazing through the anchorage, leaving the same sparkling trails as they passed. Since the moon is waning, we had dark skies with millions of stars visible, and water calm enough to see the bright stars like Sirius and Betelgeuse reflected in it. We sat on deck every night there, watching and listening. On our last day, we moved south to another spot for the late morning and early afternoon, and had the incredible good fortune to see a group of bottlenose dolphins swimming back and forth in the shallows near shore. They had three very tiny calves in the group, as though three of the females had given birth very recently. Since they came very close to us several times, I was able to get some nice photos.
Now, we've started our passage north to San Carlos, leaving Baja California behind until November. It's a lake at the moment, as we motor past Isla Coronados, but we're hoping for a southeasterly breeze so we can sail some this afternoon. The forecast is calling for strong northerly winds starting tomorrow afternoon, so we'd like to get to the other side before they hit. It should take us about 26 hours, and we'll post photos when we get there.
