Same Sea Yet Another Boat

It did not take long for me to find another boat looking for crew to cross the Sea of Cortes.   Wendaway is a Norseman 447, and skipper Mark is taking it to Puerto Vallarta, leaving this afternoon or tomorrow morning.  His wife is in Canada for Christmas and he and I and one other person will be sailing it across over the course of a week, stopping in Isla Isabella en route.  If I have time I will make another post before I leave, otherwise, I will not have email contact until we arrive at PV.

Back in La Paz

There is something comforting about returning to a port that you know – a bit like coming home.  Pulling into La Paz yesterday on a sunny Sunday Baja afternoon, I found myself looking forward to catching up on email and visiting to my favorite ice cream shop.  Our buddy boat had arrived ahead of us and they were there on the dock to catch our lines, much like the good old days when family were waiting as you walked off the jetway.

Don and I really enjoyed our trip down.  As a measure of our compatibility, I note that I did not crack a book ONCE (except the cruising guide).  Conversation with my last skipper was so difficult that I retreated to reading whenever I was not engaged in cooking, cleaning, helming or anchoring.  The good part about that was that I learned a lot reading about weather forecasting and sextant adjustment! 

In the course of our transit, Don and I found all kinds of things to talk about, tease each other about and set up on the boat.   We alternated between sailing and motoring, based on wind or timing.   The sun sets here around 5:30 and nobody sails at night – given the fact that aids to navigation are few and far between, and Mexican charts are sketchy at best, people rely on cruising guides and visual navigation, and hustle to get anchored up before dusk.  Our second night out, our buddy boat caught a skipjack on a handline and invited us over for potluck – I brought a guacamole rice salad and we all watched the sunset over La Paz from Isla San Francisco 40 miles away.

Don and I have very compatible eating habits, which made mealtime fun and easy.  I had bought a 15 pound bag of oranges for $4 in Loreto, along with a kilo of tortillas and lots of tomatoes, avocadoes and fresh goat cheese.  We don’t seem to tire of quesadillas for lunch…what a treat to have avocadoes every day!

Back in La Paz, I visited some friends and began looking for the next crewing opportunity, because Don will be staying in La Paz until he goes to Indonesia in February.  There is a ‘morning net’ on the VHF in the marina when people check in, compare information and offer items for trade.  It’s a fairly small community with many boats returning year after year, and I am learning how to check references on skippers who may want crew.  I put the word out on the net that I was available for crew and quickly had a return call from a skipper looking for a third person for the crossing to Puerto Vallerta.   We will be leaving on the 27^th and expect to take a week to do a leisurely crossing with stops en route to fish and check out the wildlife.

In the meantime, Don is happy to have me stick around for a while, helping him with a few projects and ensuring that he has something better than trail mix for breakfast, lunch and dinner.  Pretty much everyone is hunkered down here in another ‘norther,’ watching their windexes hit the other side of 30 knots and whitecaps washing over the decks.  It’s so strange to be in winds like this without an accompanying downpour!

Same Sea Different Boat

I am not sure why, but I really like going to Laundromats.  I think it may be because it is a way to step out of life on the road and sit in one place and read, write or meet new people.  So I always volunteer to do the laundry, a chore others don’t seem to enjoy, and here I am in the marina in Puerto Escondido doing that.

I left the boat I was on in Puerto Escondido.  The boat was great and the sailing and exploring was fun, but the skipper was not a lot of fun to be with.  I won’t go into all of the details here, but we had agreed before we left that either of us could say that it was not working at any time, and I invoked the escape clause when we got to Puerto Escondito.  I was never unsafe, but I learned some things I should look for and test for in the next crewing situation.  (Aside from good marine head maintenance).

Puerto Escondido is just 15 miles from Loreto, so I took a cab to my house and then went right to the store of some friends for a welcome hug.  Then I checked the crew lists on Latitude 38 and read about a guy who was driving to Loreto and needed crew from there.  I sent him an email on Saturday, got an answer back on Sunday inviting me to meet on Monday back in Puerto Escondido.  I met him, toured the boat, talked about expectations, and liked all three immediately.

Then I had a few things to wrap up vis-a-vis the sale of my house, which is now complete - and I have now moved aboard Minggat, 5 days after arriving here!  Don and I are really having a LOT of fun - we banter back and forth and it feels really comfortable...a lot like being back east with my Dad and siblings!

He has an Islander 36, a good solid boat, and he is an engineer, so he has a bunch of 'gadgets' on it – I am really enjoying poking around and seeing some of the things he has done.  As I usually have to do when I board a guy's boat for any time, I am cleaning the galley and the head as a first priority.  He is VERY appreciative of that and my cooking and since the boat is the ONLY place I like to cook, it is a win-win.  He is very happily married but his wife is Indonesian and has visa issues so she is in Indonesia now.  Yesterday we had lunch with a couple that he met in the yard with which we will be buddy boating back to La Paz.  They too are a LOT of fun, so I can foresee some fun potlucks and more banter. It is going to be a great trip and one that will erase the less comfortable aspects of my last crewing experience.

As they say, cruising is about working on your boat in exotic locations.  Don is just putting the boat back in the water after 2 years on the hard so we are working out a lot of kinks – one outboard turned out to have a non-engaging prop and the other took some warming up, but bit by bit we are preparing for a Friday departure. 

Life on the Sea of Cortes

 Provisioning in Mexico

As first mate, one of my major responsibilities is provisioning – buying food for the boat.  Having sailed the BC coast, I’m used to stocking a boat with the assumption that groceries will be few and far between.   The little tiendas we will find on the Baja side of the Sea of Cortes will be even less well stocked, so it will be important to carry enough food to basically get us through a few weeks.   So, here in La Paz, I am planning for a month when I shop.

Which would be easy in the states, when I know where to go for what, and how the stores are organized.  It’s another story here in Baja. Shopping here is much like shopping in the US in the 70s before people started demanding food without added sugar.   Things I consider staples for the boat: sugar-free crunchy peanut butter, raisins for oatmeal, turmeric for curry, simply do NOT exist here.  On the other hand, food is amazingly cheap, and there are many new fruits and vegetables to experiment with.

I started by shopping at the local grocery, which was actually fairly well stocked.   Then I headed for the Chedraui, the Baja equivalent of Fred Meyer.  There I was thrilled to find coconut milk and brown rice, but when I got to the checkout, they were unable to sell me the coconut milk because the system did not have the price in it anymore!  So they set the cans aside and sent me on my way without them.  Undaunted, I went back today and headed for the ‘costumer service’ desk where I explained the situation to the ‘jefe’ who solved the problem by charging me the price for coconut cream.  There is always a solution in Mexico is you are persistent, patient and pleasant about it.  But, I was left to wonder what will happen to all the cans I did not buy.  Will they ever be able to be sold?

It took me several trips, but finally the boat was provisioned and everything stowed away.  I’m looking forward to experimenting with jicama, chayote, green chiles, queso fresco and other local food staples when we are underway.

For Thanksgiving dinner we went to the house of the director of the Spanish school and had a fabulous meal.  A few of her friends, some other students and some GREAT food.  One of the men skippers a 150’ yacht for the owners from California and he had many complimentary things to say about the industry and workmanship of the mechanics he has worked with here.  People here can’t just go to Home Depot to replace something that is not working: first, because it is not THERE and second because it would cost too much.  This explains the amazing ingenuity and resourcefulness that I have seen, especially related to things mechanical.

Leaving La Paz

While at the marina, I continued to attend the Tuesday and Friday salsa classes, and was very sad to say goodbye to the group and the instructor.  However, I did finish my piñata and bequeathed it to the language school for their Christmas party.

A few other observations and adventures from my last days in La Paz:

Making money just does not seem to be the major driver here.  As an example,  the boat has five AGM batteries that needed to be recharged.  We found a likely store and I called them and explained what we needed (en español!) and they told us to bring them on down.  So we lugged 5 batteries up the dock, into the rental car to the shop.  For us, lifting ONE was an effort.  But the charging guy hauled them out of the car two at a time, hooked them up, charged them for 8 hours, and then hauled them back into the car, and when we asked the price he said, FREE.  Incredible.  Of course, we did end up buying one battery from him to replace the one that was too low, but the FREE quote was before we made that decision.

Ran into a little trouble with the law when I accidentally went the wrong way on a one-way street one night heading back to the boat in my rental car.  I was pulled over by the flashing red and blue lights, with a very friendly officer who let me know that I had committed an ‘infración’ and would need to give him my license until I showed up at the police station to pay the fine on Monday.  Since we were planning to leave on Sunday, this was not welcomes news!  I explained that to him, profusely apologetic for my mistake as a visitor driving a rental car, and he cheerfully explained that I could simply pay now and be on my way.  Of course, there would be no receipt (and not record for insurance purposes) but we both parted happy with that arrangement.

Cruising at last

Monday, November 29, dawned sunny, with light airs; after fueling up and last minute preparations, we were down the long narrow channel along the southeast side of the Bay of La Paz.  The boat was low on water and the skipper wanted to check out the watermaker, so we motored to our first anchorage while the water maker did its thing.

From there we have been working our way north up the east coast of the Baja peninsula, stopping in various coves and inlets.   We had a couple of excellent days of sailing and I got to see the wind vane in action.  Since the boat has the same vane that I just bought, it was heartening to see how well it kept the boat in relation to the wind – all without a sound.

North of Isla Espiritu Santo is a rocky outcropping of two islets that are essentially a sea lion nursery.  The islets drop sharply into the water, forming a perfect spot for snorkeling, and tour companies run people out in pangas from La Paz so that they can swim with the sea lions and watch the tropical fish.  We anchored just off the islets, wriggled into our wetsuits and joined the other snorkelers.  The sea lions were on patrol and swam up from the bottom to check us out: they are bigger in the water than they appear from the boat!

We got stuck in a cove named Puerto Los Gatos for five nights while we waited for a “norther” to subside.  ‘Northers’ are the prevailing winds in the Sea of Cortes in the winter, but this year they seem to be coming in earlier, colder and stronger than past years, according the other cruisers.   They come in for a few days, generated by high-pressure systems in the western US, and accompanied by steep short waves that make northing very uncomfortable. 

We put out a lot of extra chain and the boat tossed and rocked in winds that averaged 15-20 knots in the sheltered anchorage, with gusts of 25 coming over the hills we were hiding behind.  We could see the white caps racing by in the sea outside and the surf on the rocks at the entrance gave evidence of the energy that would have been opposing us if we had tried to continue north.

Unfortunately, the ham operator in California who provides the daily weather forecast for the cruising network was out of commission for several days due to some kind of coax failure.  And so, every morning, we turned on the single side band with the hope of hearing when we would be able to move on, only to find that Don was still AWOL.  While we could see that it was not a good time to leave, we were hoping to get some kind of forecast.   Finally, on our fourth day, Don came in with the good news that the high pressure system over Idaho was moving on and we’d soon be on our way as well.

What do you do when you are stuck on a 34 foot boat for 5 days?  Well, as any boat owner knows, there is always a project to catch up on, lockers that could stand a re-organization, or things that need fixing.  I love to row, and taking the dinghy ashore to burn garbage or do some beach combing was a good way to get some exercise.  Rowing from boat to shore, I crossed the gusts and then I could tow the dinghy along the shore into the wind and row downwind back to the boat.   Or I could row against the wind and make the exercise last longer…the rowing equivalent of a lap pool.

The language school had given me a book on Mexican history (in Spanish) and I worked my way through that, broke out my sextant and practiced taking sunsights, made my way through another book on weather forcasting, and sorted through my pictures.  It’s kind of like being stuck at home in a snow storm – except that I am still in shorts and sandals and the sun is shining.  I always love sitting in the cabin at anchor while the boat tosses and turns, and doing it in Baja feels just as snug.

Unfortunately, on our third day here, the marine head (toilet) jammed.   Since I was the last one to use it, the honor of unplugging it was mine.  And, unfortunately, there is generally no way to unplug a marine toilet without literally taking it apart.  I had done that twice before (once on each of my boats) but only to replace the two main valves as part of routine maintenance.  In those cases, there was nothing (AHEM!) ‘plugging’ the apparatus.   So this was going to be a first for me, and, with the head now reassembled, one that I hope never to repeat.

I was baffled as to the cause of the clog, since I have never clogged a head in 15 years of boat ownership.  Marine heads are remarkably reliable if you remember two cheap and easy rules of maintenance: a regular dosing of vinegar to keep calcium deposits from forming, and a dose of oil to keep the seals pliable.  

Once I had it apart, the cause was clear: a chunk of calcium the size of a nickel and twice as thick that had reached critical mass, broken off and plugged the duckbill valve.  Other chunks were clinging loosely to the valve mechanism, just waiting their turn to wreak head havoc.  The boat’s owner was new to the oil and vinegar routine, so, in truth, it was not me who should have been taking it apart.  I extracted payment in the form of a 2 gallon shower (instead of the usual 1 gallon) and a margarita at 2pm instead of 5.

We finally woke up on Thursday, Dec 8 to the blissful sound of NO WIND (hard to believe that sailors might find that blissful!) and headed to the fishing village of Aqua Verde, making water all the way, since we had run through most of our tank while we were held hostage by the norther.  We hiked the ¾ mile into the ‘village’, a cluster of simple cinderblock homes with corrugated tin roofs and the occasional palapa, where we found the ‘tienda’ with a very helpful proprietor who had our number from the start.  “Quiere Cerveza?”  (Want beer?)   How did he know that we had run out 4 days before?  I was astonished at the cost: $24 MX (less than $2) for two cold beers in a village that is 25 unpaved miles from the highway.   We arranged to come back the next day with the dinghy for a fresh chicken and some fresh vegetables.  

Life is clearly hard here in Mexico.  The global financial crisis that hit the US housing market has reverberated here in fewer gringos buying property with second mortages.  Tourism is down because of the press about the drug wars, even though the drug wars don’t involve people who are not in ‘the business’ in some way.  And apparently the fishing (the major industry in the coastal towns) has been bad this year, which adds insult to injury.    Yet all the fishermen seem to have huge new outboards, and we wonder if they are subsidized in some way.

There is much about cruising here that feels as familiar as South Sound sailing.  The mechanics of sailing, anchoring and living on a boat are the same. But, there is much that is different:

o      Watching the arid landscape slide by in colors as deep and rich as any I have seen in nature.  The high iron content of the soil gives the hills a blood red hue against which the line green cactus stand in stark relief.  Coupled with the brilliant blue sky and the aqua waters, the depth of color is stunning.

o      Hearing the slap of fish on water, expecting to see a salmon and realizing that they are rays flapping their wings against the surface.

o      Having to make water, since the opportunities to refill tanks are few to non-existent.  Since the water-maker is engine driven, this means motoring when sometimes you would rather be sailing.

o      Anchoring in sand in 10 feet or less …and being able to see the anchor and all the chain!

o      Listening to the silence at night.   I thought that British Columbia coast was remote, but sailing in the Sea of Cortes is even more so.  There are tiny local villages, but they are few and far between and supplies are not abundant.  In the anchorages, we have had only a few neighbors, and sometimes have been the only boat.  I am not sure what you would do if you had engine trouble, but it would be a much bigger issue than in the US.

o      Star-gazing!  Far from the lights of any town, the stars are brilliant against an inky sky.  The constellations at this latitude are slightly different than the ones we are used to: the big dipper is below the level of the hills and I have to use Cassiopeia to find the North Star.  I’ve been practicing with my sextant, and the clarity of the night sky makes it much easier.

o      Tuning into the cruising net in the morning.   Cruisers underway often tune in to a morning net on the Single Side Band, sharing location, routes and information about weather or port check-in requirements. 

o      Cooking with Mexican ingredients…Aunt Jemima’s pancake mix is made with corn flour, the beans really do need to be picked over for rocks, and the cheeses are very mild.  But we’ve discovered chayote, a new favorite veggie, and we are becoming addicted to jicama julienned with orange slices, lime juice and my homemade chile powder, now made with real freshly dried ancho chiles!

o      Not seeing ANY seaweed of any kind.  Compared to the veritable forest of kelp, sea lettuce and nori that washes ashore in the northwest, I am struck by the lack here.  Tidepools are virtually devoid of any familiar flora or fauna – no starfish, no crabs scurrying for cover when I turn over a rock.  Curious.