Bahia San Pedro on the mainland side of the Sea of Cortez was calm as the sun peaked over the rocky volcanic mountains surrounding the bay. Jagged and pocked with caves, the limestone was streaked with long vertical lines across the face of the cliffs with what looked like jade in the rising sun. The air was cool, very quickly becoming warm. The water was silky with ripples created by seabirds diving for food. A few coyote pups were trying their best to howl at the rising sun. It was only Liana and me for a few quiet moments sitting in the cockpit soaking up the first rays of sunlight. We were overwhelmingly content enjoying our morning coffee.
A rooster fish, with its long arched dorsal fin sticking out of the water chased a smaller less fortunate prey in high pursuit. I’m amazed at how fast they can swim. We watched a pair of seagulls fighting over a lady bird. What started as a bunch of name calling turned into an all out brawl with each trying to clamp down on the others neck with a long yellow sharp beak. The loser yelled out curse words as he flew off.
Our friend Evan and his crew were pulling up anchor. His 25 ft sailboat seemed like a kids toy with these four grown men on board standing on the bow holding on to the rigging as Evan motored over. I yelled out to the guys on deck asking if they enjoyed the trip. One of them smiled and said it was the best week of his life!
Our plan after breakfast was to go beach combing. We untied the dink and lowered it into the water. The girls came down the ladder with Keens, sunglasses and cameras. We motored right up to the beach edge and pulled the dinghy ashore. I’m still learning how to finesse the new wheels into position. This beach is littered with interesting bits strewn about. We picked up colorful shells, bleached bones of seabirds, dried pufferfish with their spines laid back like porcupine quills, and dried cactus with holes like a loofa sponge. Terry found an old milk crate we filled with trash. After the treasure hunting we laid out the cool stuff and made beach art.
We have a 23 hour run to Isla Carmen on the Baja side. Salt ponds long since abandoned await us at Bahia Salinas, just baking in the sun like iceburgs in a landlocked bay. So back at Silhouette we stowed the dinghy in the davits. As we picked up anchor, there were several shrimp boats working off San Pedro Island.
It was nice having the seasoned crew of Canadian Sunset along on this trip. Terry took the early evening watch. Dave took the 9pm-11pm watch. Around 10pm Liana climbed into bed with me. This, we have never done before at sea because one of us was always at the helm. Thanks Terry and Dave! I woke up at 11pm. Dave was taking his last round. I looked up and thought the deck lights were on. At the top of the mast, all I saw was a super bright light. It hadn’t dawned on me yet, it was the moon, so bright. Beautiful!
About 1am and I saw the Baja coastline on radar painted in red streaks. Nothing else on the sea for 26 miles but us and a lone navigation beacon on Isla San Ildelfonso off to our starboard side. The wind came up sharply to 13 knots and increasing over the next few hours. Since I was the only one on watch, rigging all the sails was kind of inconvenient so I just reeled out the jib. All of a sudden we were blasting along.
Liana poked her head out the hatch curtain about 3am. Her hair still tangled and eyes squinting, she said she couldn’t sleep and snuggled up beside me at the helm. She either loves me or was cold and hiding from the wind. Whatever her reason I didn’t mind. I put an arm around her shoulder and she kissed my scruffy cheek. The rest of the night she spent on watch with me.
Later, we saw a small pod of whales blowing spray high in the air just off the diamond shaped cliffs of Bahia Salinas. We had a weird anomaly happen. Every GPS we had on board was reading a different position. It made for a few uneasy moments. I decided to go in slowly, watching the fathometer. The bay only has a few danger spots. The wreck of an old tuna boat sitting at 30 feet we couldn’t identify until we anchored. The wind was really blowing by the time we got the anchor set and snubbers in place.
Dave and I worked on the water maker until dinner. Liana made pulled pork in the pressure cooker and the cabin smelled wonderful. So for dinner we had that with rice and shredded cabbage that I thought was mozzarella cheese. Imagine my disappointment when I realized she snuck healthy food in when I wasn’t looking.
Day number four of our adventure we headed to the beach to check out the old salt operation. The dinghy ride across the bay was quick. Then I slowed and propped the motor up and put down our beach wheels. I finally got the hang of how to use them. Flip them down under the water and the water pressure locks them in place. Easy-peazy.
The beach was covered in the most amazing soft, squishy, yellow sand. This has to be one of the top five beaches my feet have ever felt. Now dragging the dingy up the beach through all that glorious softness was a whole different story! We tugged and pulled to get it safely on shore, the wheels sinking in the softness. Terry said it felt like a beach of corn starch.
At first, I was underwhelmed with the far off salt ponds. Then I saw…the only way to describe what we were looking at was a snowfield stretching the length and breadth of the entire valley. It was so bright, the glistening salt was blinding. We walked closer and could feel crunching under our feet, like walking on a frozen snow-covered lake. The electric blue of the water against the snow white stones encrusted in salt made igloos. The sun shone through them like snow caves or ice sculptures. This was fun and just an amazing experience, so unexpected. Walking in the shallow water we could feel the moisture being pulled from our skin. A thin layer of salt turned our legs white.
After an hour on the salted tundra we wandered back into the village poking around the ruins of mechanic shops, a tienda, and electrical control rooms for pumps that pushed seawater inland. I could just imagine the hustle and bustle of this now ghost town where boats and ships would load up precious cargo, and supplies would all come in by boat.
Now the dock is nothing but odd pilings sticking up through the emerald green and blue of the bay.
Agua Verde was our next destination. Slowly we eased in past the single rock that stands as a tall white pinnacle in the middle of the entrance to the bay. As we rounded Solitario Rock all over the waters surface were shiny black little sails. Schools of small manta rays were warming themselves in the last streams of sunlight with their white and black wingtips strait up in the air protruding from the water. They launched themselves out of the water in a ballet of sorts.
The next morning dawned with more rays swirling off the bow and jumping in the rising sun. We pulled out the paddleboards and dropped Liana’s kayak. I handed them paddles and life jackets and watched Terry and Dave all shaky kneed as they stood up on the boards getting their balance. Then Terry, Dave and Liana left to explore the reef at Solitario Rock. Off they paddled across the calm bay. I snapped a few pictures and then started the generator to make water.
I only made a quarter of a tank before the pressure went too high and kicked the watermaker off line. I tried restarting a several times. It would run for a few minutes then spike the pressure and shut down. I found some pieces of a brass elbow in the pressure valve. The threads had come apart. Our watermaker operates at nearly a thousand pounds of pressure and all the particles that are not water (like super fine bits of sand and coral), act as little bullets hammering the inside of valves and fittings. I have repaired or replaced every single valve, fitting, hose and rebuilt both pumps on this watermaker. Now I am an expert mechanic on them. Hardly a thing can go wrong with it that I don’t think back to when that happened once before. This is an awful lot of technical stuff for a play day so I decided to fix it…mañana.
I spent the morning in the cockpit writing down the highlights of this incredible journey. While I was writing, the beach was filled with little children splashing in the water and making sounds of pure joy. I love listening to little kids laugh and play. It makes me appreciate the moment.
Fishermen in white and blue pangas raced in leaving a long white trail of frothy water behind them as they headed right up to shore. These men must be part of a fishing company because out of the ten or so pangas on the beach they all dressed the same, wearing orange rubber bibbed coveralls and white boots. As soon as they got to shore a white box truck backed almost to the boat and fish were handed into the back. Then the truck moved under a palapa and waited for the next panga. Fresh fish is the goal so they don’t sit very long in the hot sun before they go on ice.
I also watched sailboats come in, one after the other. In this calm weather this became a magnet with no wind to sail. But we were the only boat in the middle anchorage. Everyone else all cuddled up together in front of the beach between the rock cliffs or further south in a little round bay very protected from everything but the most tenacious southeast wind. It seemed they were all sailing together like a charter group. Every boat was exactly the same distance apart. I didn’t look but I think a charter company put some mooring balls in as a guaranteed safe harbor when the weather got bad.
I thought the crew were gone quite a long time and looked for them with the binoculars. They were nowhere to be seen. Eventually, I saw the little group paddle away from the rock. They had spent almost two hours floating in the sun and watching the colorful fish swim right underneath them. They wished they had brought snorkel gear! They came back hot and thirsty and raving about how many fish they saw. Liana said Dave sat on his board while Terry laid down on hers, peering into the clear water at the corral and starfish. Liana chased three crabs around the same rock three times. She said they stayed just ahead of her kayak walking sideways, claws in the air ready to do battle. They saw big fat orange starfish, skinny spiny black and blue starfish, sargent majors, clownfish and black tipped dark blue fish.
So after ice tea, we had lunch and planned another dinghy mission to shore. The girls wanted to go to the little tienda. Dave and I felt like we needed to hold down a couple chairs at the beach restaurant in the shade, helping the proprietor get rid of some limonadas. We watched the people on the beach playing while squishing our toes in the warm sand. We held those chairs down properly…until the girls got back and took our seats. Now we had to find more chairs.
Liana was using wifi and after a few more refreshing icy limonadas we went on a mission to find lobster or shrimp. I figured the palapa with the fisherman looked like the place to start. Lobster was out of stock and shrimp too, but what was on special today was yellow-fin tuna. I shook my head and asked how much. He thought I said how big and he held out his long arms tip to tip. I shook my head yes. He wanted to show us how much it weighed. I hope I can afford this! Dave and I both suck at Spanish and without Liana’s Spanish decoder ring I was guessing what he said. $440 pesos I think. I offered him $500, about $25 American dollars and he smiled and handed us the fish. I had to hold it by the tail with both hands. It was nearly as long as I was tall from the shoulders down. It must have weighed 25-30 lbs.
We walked by the girls to the dinghy with our prize and no one thought to take a picture. Liana still had some minutes on the WiFi she purchased from the nice limonada vendor. Dave and I decided to take the dinghy to Silhouette and filet this monster. I left Liana the radio and said to call when they wanted a pick up. Only I was so busy back at the boat I forgot to turn on the radio. We carved the tuna into massive two-inch thick steaks and filleted the tail section. Much later we saw them waving to us from the beach trying to get our attention. We went after the stranded ladies who were a tad bit miffed about us forgetting them.
Liana made sushi rolls and I grilled two of the steaks. They were still too much to eat, barely fitting on our plates. After a most satisfying dinner we sat in the cockpit under the light of the moon and played Sequence. Dave is very competitive and a lot like my brother-in-law John. He talks a lot of trash when he’s winning. He and Liana trounced Terry and me. Such a beautiful and relaxing day ended with scoops of ice cream and nuts. Then we slipped off to bed. The waves rocked us gently to sleep.
The next morning we left around 9:30am and headed to San Everisto. It’s about the half-way point to Pichilingue. We were going to ride out a strong westerly predicted for that evening. Terry and Dave admitted they had never caught fish in the Sea of Cortez. Dave said it was pure witchcraft to figure out what fish bite on here. So I taught them how to make lures out of wine corks with hot-glued wobbly-eyes. We drilled a hole through the center of the cork and crimped a 10 ft length of 350# test monofilament fishing line and shoved it through the hole. Next we glued orange, pink, yellow and purple feathers on a big heavy weight and threaded that through the hole.
It was time for the skirt made from coffee bags. It’s a very shiny silver on one side and colorful on the other. One-quarter inch slits were cut down the side like a grass skirt. It was glued onto the sexy waistline of the wobbly-eyed cork. This was all to hide the giant three-inch stainless hook hidden under the sparkly feathered dress. When we were done we were ready to try them out. We didn’t catch any fish but we sure had a fun afternoon making them while Liana vacuum sealed fresh tuna.
The sail here was just under 50 miles but the wind did not cooperate in the least. We put to sea from San Everisto and had what looked like a beautiful north wind blowing almost directly from over our stern. Dave and I went to the mast to set up the spinnaker. We lowered the pole and rigging topping lift with the spinnaker line and forward and aft guy-lines to anchor the pole for a classic down wind run. Once rigged, the sails filled with wind and we were charging along. For almost three minutes! Then it became listless and the wind indicators began lazily spinning. Our fresh seventeen knots of wind went to three.
Oh well, the Sea is lovely this morning and the sun is just now warming the cold deck from the West wind that blew into the evening. Liana went up to the bow and Dave said he would take the helm if I wanted to join her. I climbed in behind her and perched my backside against the roller furler.
After lunch Liana was the first…she spied an unoccupied section of the portside bench that was in the sun and pulled up pillows and a blanket. She fell asleep curled up, lulled by the moan of the diesel and the calm smooth seas. Next was Terry who spied a lounge pad in the sun. She grabbed her coat and hat and blanket and stretched out for a warm afternoons nap. Dave was driving the boat and I asked him if he wanted to join them? He was like, “Why yes, I would.” I was expecting him to get the lounge pad in the shade beside Terry. But no, he was looking for something in the sun. The deck just forward of the mast suited him. A bit exposed and if we took a roll he might have wound up sliding off into the water. For an hour or so they all hibernated in the afternoon sun.
Dolphins showed up on the bow…zig zagging back and forth. I asked Liana to get her camera and she said, “Nope, I’m just going to watch them play.” Terry went forward and laid on the deck trying to touch them with outstretched arms. Liana started talking to them. You know, like talking to babies. Her adult voice went to some unintelligible cooing. I was driving the boat, so for me this all sounded so funny. In her defense Terry was talking to them in a little kid voice too.
When we anchored in Pichilingue, the bay was filled with kayaks, paddle boarders and jet skis and only one other sailboat. We watched beach goers play in the shallows and suntan on the white sand. A little white and blue floatplane motored by really close to us. I waved at them and they waved back. When they neared the corner of the bay the pilot spun around and hit the throttle. The little engine got them up to speed. In another moment or two they were lifting off, gliding just above the water. Once over to the other side he pulled up to clear the rocky point marking the southern entrance.
The water is emerald green under us, more turquoise closer to shore, and then just past us it turns deep dark blue. There must be a thousand fish under Silhouette and hanging out in her shadow. These are no small fish. They are big mackerel about a foot or more long with blue and silver bodies and sharp noses and fins. When we dumped food scraps we couldn’t believe how the water came alive with darting, swirling silver and blue fish snapping up the scraps as they slowly floated down.
I took Dave & Terry in the dinghy to the white floating dock at the marina across the bay and helped them with their bags. They were taking the 2:00pm ferry to Topolobompo and then a bus back to San Carlos. So yesterday, we snapped a group picture in the cockpit and hugged. On a cruising boat we don’t say goodbye. It’s just until we see you again. Because the winds blow all of us the same directions and we will see them again someday in some cove or anchorage. Canadian Sunset will call for Silhouette and we will share some special moments again.
