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FROM
THE LOG OF NINA, JUNE, 2003
Jerry Helm Monday 26 May 03 Noon. Even though
we had a target departure time of 0800--revised to 1000, we are finally off and
heading south for San Juanico and related points of interest. The
"we" being my daughter Kris, son Ken, and I. This will be Kris's
first overnight sail, and Ken and I are solicitous and concerned for her.
So concerned that we have even borrowed a porta-potti from Ned Pos and have the
thing installed and ready for use! No bucket-users we. Ken and Kris arrived Saturday
afternon on a flight from Phoenix, and they immediately started in on me by
insisting that they go to the market to supplement my food supply--always a
touchy point on our boat. It seems that they desire food other than cans
of Dinty Moore, Wolf Brand chili, and a box or two of Minute Rice. Very
strange kids. So, after doing our Committee Boat duties Sunday afternoon,
they hit the Fruteria and loaded up with fresh veggies, fruit, and assorted
juices and sodas. I had already stocked the reefer with cold beer and ice
in order to chill it down before turning it on. Monday morning we frantically
checked out of our motel, packed stuff to leave in the car, packed stuff to take
on the boat, stored stuff on the boat, stored more stuff on the boat, and
finally hit the fuel dock along with the crew of Half Cat (Scott Sebree and
Loretta Peto) for topping of tank and filling of jerry cans. Rick
segerstrom and his girlfriend Sandy were motoring slowly out of the marina in
his Shock 23, Black Monday, and Howard Achilles in Sempre Libera had left much
earlier. I don't know how Howard had achieved an early start; I guess he's
much more organized than we are. The crews of our three boats all agree
that in the future we will take an entire day to make ready, then get a good
night's sleep before departing early. 1300 Now we motorsail with a
nice breeze right on the nose. With main and jib hauled tightly in, the
purring diesel has us almost on course with a comfortable fuel comsumption,
so we enjoy a pleasant ride relaxing, chatting, and catching up on reading
books that we had earmarked for this trip. 1500 Wind has shifted a bit, and our
course is 220 instead of 180, but we're still motor sailing quietly. We
talk briefly to the other boats, and all is well.
1620 Kris provides some
excitement when she spots a big fish jumping. Is it a whale?
Nobody is sure, because it's pretty distant, but it's huge. 1800 Gentle breeze from same
bearing, but we're still making over 4.5. Talk to other boats
and--Oh, NO!--Half Cat, with her newly-rebuilt engine is having problems:
lots of smoke. They decide to shut down the motor and sail back to San
Carlos. What a bummer! We are all depressed, but probably not as
much as Scott and Loretta. Kris is feeling a bit queasy, so
dons the wrist bands and all is right with the world once more 1910 We enjoy a lovely sunset
and much on snacks. 2000 Talk to sailing vessel
"Justice" who relays messages for us. Sempre Libera and Black
Monday are doing fine. Don't know why we cannot talk directly to those
boats. We now have the light breeze back on the nose, so motor with
mainsail at 4 knots almost on course. It's getting dark and scary, so Ken
stays up with Kris while I grab a nap. 2300 I rise to don harness, clip
onto the jackline, and find a lovely night with calm seas and lovely skies.
Kris retires to her lair in the quarter berth. The radio squawks
occasionally as Ken and I hold desultory conversations. Suddenly, a rough
Spanish-speaking voice breaks in with a loud: "PUUUUUTO. PUUUUTO.
PUTO. PUTO." Then he gives out with a long string of really vile
Spanish/Mexican vulgarities. Must be some kid having his idea of fun, so I
grab the mic and admonish him: "Y tu besas tu madre con este voca?"
(And you kiss your mother with that mouth?) There is a stunned (so we
imagine) silence for about thirty seconds. Then: "PUUUUUTO!"
Then some music; then some more obscenity. Then we turn off the radio. That reminds me of a story a certain
relative of mine once told me. It seems he and three other teenagers were
on a family vacation in the Biloxi area. Somehow the kids persuaded the
parents to let them borrow a family car; they would then drive around the
downtown streets of Biloxi, and yell insults whenever they happened upon other
young people. As they passed groups of kids, they took turns bellowing
out brilliant (so they thought) things like: "Hey, you are a
dumb bunch of hicks!'' "You guys look like dogs and your girls look
like pigs." Finally the youngest, we'll call him T___(not the
brightest lamp bulb), asked, "Please let me do the next insult." "Okay, okay, you're on."
They cruised on down toward the beach area and the youngest of the insulters
grew more and more impatient. No kids to holler at. They turned a
corner and approached a dance hall with lots of kids standing on the corner.
T___ cried, "Oh boy, now it's my turn!" The others quieted to
let him have his day in the sun. When they drove by, T___ stuck his
head out the window and let loose with his best bon mot: "TUUUUURD!"
Inside the car, pandemonium reigned as the guys
whooped, hollered, and pounded each other on the back. "Dammit, T___.
you really showed those hicks a thing or two!"
"Why did you do that?" "Uhh, err, we're from Chicago and
that's what we do there." "No shit? That's the durndest
thing I ever heard of. Come on, sit with us and we'll buy you a
round." My relative said he never had
felt so small before, but he and his buddies joined the Biloxi kids and
had a fine time. T___ even got very friendly with one of the girls and did
things that night he had never dreamed of. End of reminiscence. Tuesday 27 May Midnight.
Try to contact other boats, but no response. We do hear Sempre Libera
through the static say something about "Concepcion" then lose the
contact. Same conditions, and we slip along at a gentle 4.5. 0200 Same conditions; try to
call others, no response. Stars are snapping brightly in the
cloudless/moonless sky. Ken and Kris nap, and I try to identify as many
stars as I can without using the star chart. 0400 Same-oh same-oh, except that
dampness has descended, and our decks and cockpit cushions are soaked.
Nothing like a wet butt on a chilly morning. Did I say chilly? Yes,
it's a cold June night in the Sea of Cortez heading south from San Carlos--a new
experience for me. I borrow one of Ken's jackets and huddle down looking
expectantly eastward for a brightening horizon. 0500 Same stuff, except now we
can see. Our ETA San Juanico is 1100. Isla San Ildefonso is off the
starboard bow. The wind is now gone; the Yanmar keeps humming along. 0600 No change. We hear Justice
calling, but we don't transmit to anyone, or at least they don't get back to us.
We have 14 nautical miles to go for San Juanico; San Ildefonso is abeam.
Come on, sunshine, please dry us out. Our barometer has kept steady all
night right around 29.80. We've learned to record it every hour and watch
for those dreaded little downward spikes that seem to provide a few hours of
nastiness. So far so good. 0700 Weather the same, and
we're drying out. Ken brews a pot of good coffee in the French press.
No instant for us; the real thing is way too good. Kris gets in some
reading time, and Ken fusses with the sails. No contact at all with our
friends: sun spots? Gives us the weird willies--or fan tods. Is Half
Cat on the trailer? Speculations run amok. 0830 Pass Punta Pulpito shining
brightly in the morning sun. As usual, currents around this massive hill
jutting into the sea provide whirlpools and sets of standing waves. 0900 Rick comes through
briefly, but we can't get back to him. 1000 No wind at all, Ken concedes defeat
and hauls down both sails. Kris admires the wild colors on the cliffs and
mountains north of San Juanico. She also likes the calm, smooth motion of
Nina as we slip gently along. 1030 We make a right turn and head
into San Juanico's commodious bay. The houses on the northern headland are
a jarring reminder that progress has come to this pristine place. 1045 Anchored in fifteen feet over
sand in the northwest corner, not far from the Sailors' Shrine. We share
the bay with one other boat, a yellow trimaran, which swings to its anchor
about 100 yards outside us. We take a swim, wash up, and wait for
Rick who calls and says he'll be there soon. 1100 Rick anchors nearby then
dinghies over with Sandy. We serve chicken sandwiches and ice cold beers.
No contact with Sempre Libera. Rick says he, too, heard them mention
Bahia Concepcion, so we conclude that they must have made a right during the
night and have gone there. Rick and Sandy agree to meet us on
the beach, then depart, and we settle down for a nap. 1500 Rise and shine and look to the
open sea. Herds of little white ponies (better known as whitecaps) attest
that it's blowing hard from the east. It feels good to be snugly
anchored. We try the radio; still no contact with Sempre Libera. If
they continued south, we should be able to raise them; if they went into
Concepcion, the mountains would block any transmission. We conclude that
they are indeed in the Concepcion area. We dinghy in and check out the shrine.
Kris is impressed with the many signs that sailors have placed there over the
years. We find the carved sandstone we put there five years ago.
It's cool to see that the shrine is still there, and that so many old
friends' mementos still put on a show. As we stroll down the beach, we meet the
crew of the yellow Tri, Bandale: John Franta, his wife Nancy and his
brother Jeff, also their two dogs Lacey and Jolo; all are from Phoenix.
The dogs are great! Both love to retrieve and frolic in the water.
Lacey is enamored of her soft-sided frisbee, and Jolo works hard on
her tennis ball. 1800 A nice party ensues on Nina.
The Bandales bring some trigger fish filets which Ken fries up deliciously.
We scarf up the fish, down a few brews and say good night. 2000 All's quiet, except for some
snoring. Wednesday 28 May 0645 Up and brewing
coffee followed by cleanup and some engine-running. Gotta keep the
batteries up and the fridge icy cold. 1100 Bandale's crew goes out in their
dinghy for some snorkeling. Ken looks over toward the trimaran and says.
"I do believe she's changed position." We all stare at her and,
sure enough, she's moving backward, heading steadily for the big rock
island in the middle of the north bight. I shout at Rick as Ken gets our
dinghy under way. When we get to Bandale, Ken dives to look at the anchor
and reports, "The chain is totally wrapped around the flukes."
He and Rick attack the anchor line while I
dinghy to the stern and attempt to push her away from the rocks--now only four
or five feet away. Rick hauls the rode aboard his powerful dinghy and
successfully starts towing the big tri farther out before re-dropping the
hook. About this time, Bandale's crew returns, wondering what all the
commotion is about. Needless to say, they are grateful. All agree to
meet ashore later for a hike up the hill past the houses. The hill is steep and provides many
nice photo-op viewpoints. As we pass the new houses, we notice that all
have earth and shrubs or trees on roofs. In front of one home is a
large salt water swimming pool. We had met a local guy working as a
caretaker there, and he informed us that the lots were going for a million
(million what?), and that an Italian lady lived in one and a Spanish woman in
another. He said the salt water pool was supplied by a huge pump; when the
water got cloudy, they just drained it and pumped up another 30,000 gallons. 1330 Back to Nina for lunch and a
nap. Tough day. 1500 Another big tri pulls in and
anchors nearby. She is Try to Fly from Encinitas, CA. 1600 Still blowing outside.
We, the Black Mondays, and the Bandales go ashore in the central
beach and explore the roads leading in and out of the area. At one point
we find a heavily-traveled game trail with tracks of deer, javelina, coyotes and
something big and catlike? Cougar? Large bobcat? John and Anne
, the young couple from Try to Fly join us as we gather firewood for
tonight's bonfire. She's from South Africa and speaks with a distinctive
Dutch/Boer accent. 1800 Back to Nina for supper, which is
Cruiser's Mishmash #14 prepared by Ken. Really good stuff! I don't
have the recipe with me (as I sit writing this in Pinetop during a cool rain)
but can furnish same later after we return to Tucson. Rick and Sandy join
us while Ken cooks. Kris has whipped up a super guacamole.
2000 Burping contentedly, we dinghy
ashore for the bonfire. Landing in the dark, we stumble toward the
pile of firewood and discover the others sitting there waiting for us. No
smokers in the crowd; ergo, no matches or any other fire-making apparatus.
We sit in the dark and chat pleasantly for an hour then paddle our ways back to
our boats for a nightcap and the bunks. Thursday, 29 May 0600 Calm
morning. Up for coffee and watch Kris row like a demon to shore. 0700 Ken, Kris, Rick, and Sandy go
snorkeling while I make a garbage run, collecting from other boats before
taking trash to garbage-fire-ring in the dunes. 0900 I talk to John on Bandale; he's
received a weather report: same conditions as past few days. I check
the time with him and learn that on this part of Baja California it is one hour
later than in San Carlos. Good thing to know, especially since Kris has a
plane to catch out of Loreto Sunday. 0930 We hear Half Cat on VHF!
Hurrah! They have fixed the engine and are now passing Pulpito.We agree to
meet them at Isla Coronados. Rick brings a bunch of eggs for a huge
fritata which Ken whips up. What a chef! 1100 We are sailing on the way to the
lovely anchorage on Coronados with a merry SE breeze at ten knots. 1230 Wind kicks up to 15-20, and we
romp along delightfully. With the sun still on the eastern half of the
sky, we can see the weird uplifts, thrusts, and folds of the cliffs to
starboard. There appears to be a huge vein of coal running through one
mountain. Just abeam of that black band we veer left and leave Mangle Rock
well off to our right. This rock is a dangerous pinnacle which juts up
about a mile offshore and is usually covered at high tide. The first time
I came down this coast, Fritz Hennings, Ken, and I passed pretty close to Mangle
Rock and saw the waves breaking over it. That voyage was in our Santana
21. Three big guys in that tiny boat made for some pretty interesting
shifts and moves as we tried to squeeze around and past each other in and near
the cabin. 1600 We follow Rick in toward the
bright sands of the Coronados anchorage. The bottom is ten feet, sand, for
at least 500 yards, so we both drop the hook about 150 yards off the beach. 1640 To the cheers and huzzays of
Nina and Black Monday, Half Cat glides in and secures an anchorage in
slightly deeper water. 1730 The party begins on Nina.
Scott and Loretta tell their long story of travail, tears, labor, and
long-distance phone calls. They had sailed back to San Carlos,
arriving at 0600 Tuesday morning. Then Loretta called her brother, the
engine rebuilder. He then called Yanmar in San Diego and described the
symptoms. Yanmar told him/them to adjust the governor.
Governor? What's that? Evidently it is a lean--rich adjustment screw
on the front of the engine. Loretta's brother had bench-tested the engine
after the rebuild, but had no way to run it several hours under load.
Which is what the Half Cats did when they left San Carlos. Scott and
Loretta had a good night's sleep at the Creston and departed Wednesday
morning to catch up with us. As we listened to their tale of adventure,
we devoured much cheese, many crackers, and downed too many beers (some of us
eschewed the beer but slammed down too much wine). Sending us a
signal to call an end to the fun, Loretta crashed demurely on
Scott's shoulder, and that was the end of that party. 2200 Silence. Friday 30 May 0600 Coffee,
cleanup. Breakfast. Ken decides to whip up pancakes. I'm
skeptical; looks like too much trouble to me. However, he continues, and,
as usual, produces a triumph. Each pancake fills the entire frying
pan, is fluffy, tasty, and totally perfect. Another great meal by Mr.
Kenneth. We all clean our plates, even Kris (better known as
Eats-Like-A-Bird). 0800 The kids go snorkeling, and
Loretta and I hike the cross-island trail in search of Padre Kino's quarry.
Legend has it the Kino's first settlement at San Bruno (a couple of miles
southwest of us) was in need of building stones, so Kino and Padre Salvatierra
explored Isla Coronados in hopes of finding same. We did find depressions
on the S end of the island which were surrounded by lots of nice-size rocks
which COULD have been the kind of stones they searched for. An interesting note is that Padre Kino
wanted to stay on Baja, explore, map, and establish missions on the peninsula.
However, he was ordered back to the mainland and went on to construct the
many missions across Sonora (and southern Arizona) which we all know today.
Padre Salvatierra stayed at San Bruno and moved that mission to Loreto when the
water went bad and too many mosquitos brought malaria. The San Bruno thing
occurred around 1694, and the Loreto mission was set up in 1697. 1130 Lunch and set sail for Isla
Danzante with light NW breeze. Barometer still around the 29.80 mark.
Super weather! Can it hold? 1200 We pass the little island off Isla
Coronados and note that there is a new nav light there as well as on the
peninsula in front of the round tower (which has been there for many years).
After dark, these lights should make it easy to find (A) the Coronados anchorage
and (B) the channel between Baja and that nasty little island with its attendant
reef. 1300 Breeze shifts to the east, and
we swing along under main and jib (and Yanmar) at a nifty 7.5 knots. 1400 Puerto Escondido is now ten
miles distant, Danzante three miles farther. Ken works on the watercolor
he started at San Juanico. When finished, he will have a neat little piece
of art depicting Nina in the NW cove. Kris is finishing another book, and
I read an "Atlantic" that Ken brought aboard. Sailing at
it's--oops--its Finest! 1420 Ken gets impatient and hoists
his favorite sail: the parti-colored drifter. The engine has been
silenced as we make a steady 5. 1730 We scope out the Danzante
anchorages on the NW corner of this weird, rugged little island. According
to another legend, Padre Kino was greeted here by dancing natives, hence the
name. The indefatigable Jesuit charted these waters accurately and
produced a fine map of the Escondido area. Evidently he entered Escondido
in a small boat because he noted that the huge harbor there is accessible only
by a narrow and tortuous channel, impassable to large ships due to the seething
currents. The Danzante anchorages are as advertised
in G. Cunningham's Cruising Guide to the MIddle Gulf: The north bight is
secure, but too small for more than one boat. The middle bight is steep-to
and quite deep. We see one large sailboat there, so we choose the south
bight which has a nice sand bottom not too close to the beach. As we
approach, we see a line of red buoys in front of the anchorage and ask the large
sailboat what they indicate. He tells us it's a scallop farm and we
should go around them. A Scallop farm? That's another new on on me. Entering the anchorage we are greeted by
raucous cries of welcome by another small sailboat: Toy Boat, a 23-footer sailed
by a friendly couple and a big, wooly dog. They said they had felt lonely
being among so many big boats. Then Black Monday approached, and their cup
runnethed way over. 1815 We're anchored bow and stern
and enjoying a pleasant swim followed by a detergent bath and fresh water shower
(from the spray bottle). 1900 Half Cat hosts a fine gourmet
dinner. Scott grills brats--when the wind subsides and stops blowing out his
fire. Then Loretta produces potatoes, bacon, and rosemary in her new
pressure cooker. Excellent! Then she tops herself by whipping up
apple crisp in the same device. I guess we gotta get one of "dem
tings." (As a certain relative would say.) After dinner Rick
tells some horrific cop stories. Then Loretta asks if she can tell some
CPA tales. After shouting her down, we discuss our next project: we will
produce a movie called "Attack of the Killer Amazon CPA's from Outer
Space." Scott and Loretta will star as the evil
ones; Rick and Sandy will defend the Earth and save us all from destruction.
Ken, Kris, and I will write and film the epic. See what a fine meal and few
cooling drinks can produce? 2230 Back to Nina for great night's
sleep. Very cool night, so sleeping bags are zipped up. Saturday 31 May 0600 Coffee
and more of Ken's super pancakes. 0950 Off we go to Puerto Escondido.
Kris has read in "Log from the Sea of Cortez" Steinbeck's
description of the place and his hunting trip he took with the customs officer
in 1940. Then she read Sparky's account of what REALLY happened in his
short masterpiece, "With Steinbeck in the Sea of Cortez."
Sparky lets us in on the fact that Steinbeck's first wife, Carol went on the
famous trip and had a little liaison with crewmember Tiny while John was off
hunting the bighorn sheep. The two accounts juxtaposed make for an
entertaining read. 1050 Anchor in 20 feet, sand just
past the Ellipse. What a strange place! The Mexican government had
huge plan for it some twenty--five years ago: place massive concrete walls
around the circular basin we call the Ellipse, construct a massive ferry pier
and reception building, and allow condos--complete with faux Venetian bridges to
be started behind the Ellipse. The Moorings even ran a charter business
there for a few years before vacating to La Paz. It's still a super
anchorage. One can dump garbage (for a fee), fill up on sweet drinking
water (for a fee), get one's port captain paperwork done (for a fee), and catch
a taxi to and from Loreto (also for a fee). The first three fees are quite
modest and really a bargain. We negotiated for a van/taxi and got the
round trip for $60. Not a bad deal when split seven ways and the driver
let us leave jerry cans in his vehicle while we toured the town.
Note on Port Captain procedures (which
will probably be changed by the time we return): Since it was Saturday,
fthe immigration office was closed. We did go to the airport and talked to
the immigration guy there (unnecessary, but we wanted to check out the airport
for Kris, who was flying out the next day). The Migracion Officer told us
to meet him at his downtown office since he did not have the required stamp with
him. Our obliging driver took us to the office, followed shortly by the
Migracion Man ( a pleasant fellow, by the way). He stamped our papers and
checked all visas for bank payment. Ken and Kris, having flown in, thought
they had gotten away with something because they were told not to make a bank
payment. Their visas showed payment, however, and the Migracion Man told
us that the fee had been included in the price of the ticket. We then went to the Port Captain's
building, arriving at 1400. Oh joy! It was closed, and we had saved
the In and Out obligations. Moral: Arrive on Saturday; leave on
Sunday. Don't bother with paperwork. At least for now. After arranging to meet our driver later,
we then stroll over to beachfront restaurant El Chili Willie for lots of
delicious food and quite a few beers. 1550 Walking rather deliberately, we
traverse the waterfront, the little breakwater harbor full of pangas, and head
inland for the pretty mall and plaza around the old mission. Steinbeck
described it as being quite tumbled-down in 1940, but it is now beautifully
restored. The courtyard contains a fascinating museum devoted to Kino/Salvatierra
relics and many pictures and items describing the history of this colorful town
and area. 1830 The driver picks us up, makes a
stop for diesel, and drops us off at the Escondido dinghy landing.
We arrange for him to meet us at noon tomorrow to take Kris to the airport so
she can fly back to L A and Houston to re-enter her life as a senior
flight attendant and number one paddler on one of Continental's Dragon Boats.
Dragon Boating is big in the Houston area, and Kris's team has done well in
competitions there and at other venues. 2030 Still full from the enormous
lunch, we partake of a happy hour on Half Cat and hit the sack shortly after. Sunday, 1 June 0600 Coffee, bolillos
grilled with melted lime butter, cantaloupe. 0800 Check oil (as we do every morning)
and it's down 8 ounces. Hmmm? Why's that? 1000 Go out of harbor for snorkel
along shallows of the "Waiting Room" (Outer Harbor). Lots of
scallops and other goodies lying about, but we let them be. 1100 To the dinghy landing so Ken
and Kris can use the little internet cafe to check loads out of L A.
However, the cafe is closed on Sunday, so we fill the water tanks on Nina and
look for Kris's taxi. 1200 No taxi. Damn! Ken
spots another one at the dinghy landing and snags it. The driver agrees to
take Kris to the airport for three bucks less than the other guy had wanted.
We sadly watch Kris drive off. She's been a terrific sailor and crew
member, helpful with everything and no complaining. We decide to invite
her again. 1230 Heading out toward Isla
Coronados seventeen nm. Motorsail with a light NE breeze. 1348 We hear a rumbling roar, then
see Kris's plane soaring out of the Loreto airport just south of town. It
really seems incongruous in this peaceful and ancient-looking setting.
1500 Wind very light, so we
motorsail without headsail. ETA 1740 1730 We drop anchor back at Isla
Coronados Four large sailboats and one power job anchored in deeper
water. Rick arrives and announces that he has a nice grouper which he will
donate for a big dinner. 1900 We take pasta with peppers and
other stuff to the potluck on Half Cat. Ken does an unbelievable job
preparing the grouper over pasta with assorted veggies and peppers. Really
his best effort to date; everyone raves. Recipe will come later.
2230 Home again and bedtime.
Monday 2 June 0700 Coffee,
swim, transfer one case of beer from Half Cat into our fridge. The beer
and soda supply has held up quite well. That's one item we plan intensely. 0900 Up anchor. No wind, so we
motor toward Bahia San Sebastian, aka Puercos, at a smooth 5 knots.
ETA 1430. 1140 Nearing Punta Pulpito we spot a
pod of pilot whales frolicking about 80 yards to port. Soon we are
surrounded by wave after wave of porpoises heading south. They definitely
are on a tight schedule--no stopping to play around us this time. 1230 Nice breeze from W; we stop
engine and hoist sails for a fine beam reach at 5+ knots. 1430 Wind swings to SW; we rip
along wing and wing with 7 nm to go. 1500 Peering through binoculars
for Puercos, we know that we are on course, having set GPS point on previous
trip, but the tiny inlet does not reveal itself until we are almost on top of
it. 1700 We sail into the diminutive
cove at Puercos and notice several new houses have been built since we were last
here three years ago. The place is really pristine, serene, and lovely.
All three boats do some shifting about before finding good anchoring spots.
We point the bow out and drop a stern anchor to keep us from swinging into our
buddies--or the rocks to starboard. 1740 Everyone comes to Nina for beer
and snacks. And more beer. The porta potti gets a heavy workout.
More beer. Some wine, until we run out. Then run out of beer.
Scott goes for more as I prepare a chili mishmash. 2230 Bed. Strong W wind during
night, and stern anchor slips, but Ken resets it. The dry wind feels good
as we re-settle down. Tuesday 3 June 0600
Guess what we drink? Same stuff. Check oil--no prob. Ken whips
up a scramble: eggs, onion, potatoes, chopped ham. We still have
plenty of food and are gaining weight. Is it the food or the beer? 0710 Under way for Concepcion with
flat seas and no breeze. 1000 A light breeze springs up, and we
motorsail nicely on the hottest morning of this cruise. 1200 Passing the old manganese mines on
the NE corner of Punta Comcepcion, we look longingly into the anchorage known as
"Pilares." It looks really neat with its white sand beach and
roads crisscrossing the area. 'Twould be fun to anchor there and
spend some time exploring. We bookmark that one for another trip--and
create a GPS waypoint about 500 yards east of the beach:
N 26 53.000
W 111 50.500 1220 Rounding Pta. Concepcion. Wind
is now N at ten knots. We stop the engine and are looking
forward to a jolly sail into Bahia Concepcion. 1230 On a starboard reach, we
approach Punta Aguja, the entrance to big old Conception Bay. We can see
the radio towers on the peninsula. 1330 Running wing and wing and
pulling ahead of a Catalina 42 (he's running under headsail alone). Just a
perfect, glittering, brightly-etched afternoon with lots of little ponies trying
to catch us, but we surf ahead of them. 1430 Making the wide swing around
the shallows off Punta Arena, we watch Half Cat make the right turn and
disappear into the Santispac anchorage. We'll be close behind them, and
Rick is bearing down from astern. 1500 We tack into the stiff north
wind and find an anchorage off the beach in 15 feet, sand. Time to go
to Ray's! But first we must cleanup the boat and ourselves before even
thinking of visiting Sr. Limon's world-class palapa restaurant.
1700 Dinghy in and go to Ray's for
Shrimp Papagallo--shrimp stuffed with crab and fish and wrapped in bacon.
It's Ray's signature dish. Ray is a Cubano who grew up in the San Fernando
Valley. He's run this place for four years and has established himself as
THE restrauteur in the area. We visited his joint during his first season,
and our TSC burgee still hangs prominently on his wall. He has a new
generator, and the lights no longer grow dim when he turns on the blender. 2200 We dinghy back to the dim
anchor lights on our boats and fall gratefully into our sacks. Ken and I
sleep in the cockpit, which is a good thing. The night is rolly and rough.
The barometer has shown one of those downward spikes, and the wind shifts to the
south, producing lots of chop. We start the engine and move out to deeper
water. Wednesday 4 June 0630 Up after
a rough and tossy night, it's a fine morning and the barometer is back up
to 29.80 We top up the diesel tank with 6 gallons. So far we have
averaged 6 gallons for every 30 hours of engine operation. Very nice fuel
economy. 1130 We all go ratting around Coyote
Bay in our dinghies. Scott and Loretta have located the hot spring which
Ken and I tried to find twice before. We follow their lead and pull up to
a circle of rocks near the water. The water in the circle is too hot to
touch! A drain empties that water into another circle of rocks in the
shallows. One can sit in this area without boiling to death. We then
dinghy farther down the bay to Eco Mundo for a light lunch and a few cool ones. 1300 Back to Nina for lazing. Ken
works on his sketches and watercolors. It's hot, and the barometer has
taken another dip. We'll go to Ray's tonight for another dinner, then
leave early tomorrow for the 84 nm trip to San Carlos. 1700 Still hot and a norther is
blowing 15-20. Ray serves up excellent flank steak, burgers, etc.
We're all rather subdued because this fine cruise is ending. 2100 Back to boat and bead.
Wind has died, and we sleep well. Thursday 05 june 0430 Up
for coffe and make ready to leave. Barometer is back where it belongs. 0500 Under way in flat calm.
Rounding up from Santispac, we get a nice S breeze and motorsail at 5. 0640 We pass Pta Aguja and get on
course for San Carlos. 76 nm to go. 0800 A light easterly comes up.
It will hold for the rest of the day. Motorsail easily at 5.4.
1400 Same conditions all day.
Extremely pleasant and easy. We read, laze, munch on snacks. Also, we
pick up Radio Sonora (the university station out of Guaymas which plays fine
music). 1700 No wind. Sails down.
It's rather hot. We sight Tetas de Cabra in the hazy distance.
This distinctive mountain lets you know you are on course for San Carlos.
The downside is that you are still a long way out. 1915 The sun descends through
a clear sky toward a definite horizon line. Should produce a fine
green flash. 1917 The green flash shows bright
and clear. I think caught in on my digital camera! 2030 We can see the lights of San
Carlos and Guaymas and pick up the red nav light leading into the harbor. 2100 On a slip in the marina.
Half Cat and Black Monday follow us in within minutes. We all debark for
the Motel Creston with its swimming pool, A.C., and abundant showers. This
has been one fine cruise. Epilogue: On their way back to
Tucson, Rick and Sandy had a sad adventure: halfway to Hermosillo their
trailer jumped off the hitch and went astray. The rig crashed, the boat
jumped off the trailer and suffered considerable damage. They returned to
San Carlos that evening, and we were quite surprised to see them. Rick was
going to get the trailer repaired at the marina--it was not badly beaten
up--then go back to Hermosillo to pick up the boat which was in a Federal Yard.
He did that, and the boat is now in the marina undergoing repairs.
We hope Black Monday was not too badly hurt. The watery part of the cruise was lovely.
Be careful on the highway, folks. Hope to see you cruising with us next
fall. |