Fakarava, Tuamotos

Fakarava, Tuamotos

June 6th – June 21st, 2004

By Chris

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Fakarava is the second largest atoll in the Tuamotu’s with two passes, one on the north and a smaller one on the south. We entered the northern one and motored sailed to the village in the North East corner. The village was much bigger than the one on Kauehi, with two “stores” and a bakery. We anchored in front of the church (the bakery was right next door) and met up with Island Sonata who we hadn’t seen in a while.



They had two friends from Toau (the neighboring atoll) onboard, who they had met while staying there. They are both younger fishermen who sell their catch in Fakarava every week. Ciguatera is a toxin that gets stored in reef fish and works its way up the food chain, it can cause sever pains and nervous system problems in humans so you have to be VERY careful. I guess most of Fakarava had a problem but Toau didn’t, so these guys had quite a good deal going. They played local music on a ukulele, while MJ tried to play with them on her keyboard. It was funny to hear songs that we knew with French words. We went out to our first dinner in a while, and enjoyed catching up with old friends. The dinner wasn’t bad, steak and fries for $10, but the steak was a little chewy to say the least. Hey, beggars can’t be choosers.

The next day I paddled in at 6:30 and got us some fresh baguettes hot out of the oven. The other specialties like croissants, plain and chocolate, were already gone. I guess you have to get there right when they open at 5:30 for those (which I did for the rest of our stay). We did a little provisioning and got some phone cards at the post office (which was in an outhouse size building). We met up with Renaissance 2000 and went to the local black pearl farm for a tour. I didn’t realize how complicated a process making a black pearl is, I thought it was like a regular pearl (maybe that’s why I didn’t find one in Kauehi). In this case, to make them black, they actually take some shell membrane from another one and cut it into little pieces. This is the membrane that causes the inside of the shell to grow colored (green, blue, champagne and mostly black). They take a seed (actually a round rock from the Mississippi), and place it in a sack in the oyster. Then the small slice of membrane has to be inserted with the shell side touching the seed, so that when the oyster (more like a scallop) coats the seed it uses the genetic material from the shell coating. I got to dive in a fish park to get the two shells we would open. He showed us the entire process of seeding and then the removal of the pearl. They seed when the oyster is young and then wait about a year and a half before the pearl is ready. During this time they hang them in the water from buoys with nets/baskets and have to clean the shells every month or so. This farm was rather small but still made about 10,000 pearls a year. Most of them are imperfect, with small bumps or color changes. We got to look through his bags of cheaper pearls as well as his REALLY nice jewelry. I thought I was “safe” because KT said she didn’t really like pearls but once we got there she sure liked some of the more expensive stuff. Luckily the pearl we got from our shell was worth about $100, which wasn’t bad considering we paid $17 for the tour.

We then walked about six miles to a hotel in the beating mid-day sun to get to the only Internet place on the island. It was pretty expense ($16 an hour) with a French keyboard and no I/O devices. Oh well I guess our Internet connections in the South Pacific were going as well as planned. Most people have email on board, but I didn’t think we could justify the cost (I’d need a new radio $1500 and modem $1000). I didn’t realize that they also keep track of your position, and have easy access to weather data, which is VERY handy (Maybe in NZ). We decided we deserved some ice cream, but the place was closed!! The next day we rented bikes and went with Bobulona and Waking Dream on a tour of the island, it was rather strange being on paved roads with not much around (must be nice to have the French government picking up the tab). Waking Dream used these motorized skateboard things that got quite a stare from the locals. We stopped for lunch (hamburgers and fries) before returning for some well deserved ice cream (our legs were screaming from the abuse we gave them).


South Anchorage



The next day we decided to move to the south anchorage where the snorkeling/diving was supposed to be unmatched. We motor sailed the entire way, arriving late afternoon and played a game of Canasta with Island Sonata (hey you’ve got to do something out here). We went snorkeling the next morning in the pass,.. it was soooo amazing, there were sharks everywhere. I (black box man) brought a Bahaman sling spear in case they got too close. The visibility was over 100 feet and you could see the gray reef sharks on the bottom in 60 feet. There were 100’s of them. The white tip reef sharks stayed between the bottom and about ten feet while the black tip sharks stayed on top of the reef down to about ten feet. They were so amazing to watch. We must have hit the pass at perfect slack tide because for the next couple of days we could drift with the current back to the anchorage.



When the current is moving the gray sharks tend to school in certain areas, the divers would actually drift right through the packs. Rick had learned a Fijian shark call, which would literally turn them right towards you. We got some good pictures and video but nothing will ever do it justice, the energy/excitement in the water was electrifying.  (View short video clips to get an idea of how many sharks there were:  clip 1,  clip 2 (if the video does not start automatically go here for help). There was some amazing tropical fish near the reef including a huge Napolean fish that was as big as us and would stare at you with his big beady eye no matter where you were. It was literally like he had eyes in the back of his head. KT dropped my spear into 60 feet and I had to free dive to get it .. I almost didn’t make it back up (lost a few black box points on that one). She also had an exciting incident a few days later where she was “followed” closely by a six foot white tip for about fifteen minutes. She had wandered off on her own (more points lost) and the white tip took interest, we found if you hang with a group of divers they don’t bother you.  (Read about KT's shark experience here, additional link at bottom of this page).

The rest of the time was spent doing the typical cruisers stuff, more snorkeling, playing Canasta, watching movies, and drinks on other people’s boats (usually with deep conversations). We reviewed the video footage that Rick had shot in the pass, the funniest part was a big trigger fish that fell in love with his reflection in the lens and started kissing it. He could make some money off America Funniest Home Videos (see part of this clip here ... if the video does not start automatically click here for help). We paddled over to the other side of the pass and discovered a whole different landscape, small motus with shallow light blue water, and multiple passages out to the reef. The outside of the reef looked like a lunar landscape, harsh jagged coral grayed by the sun. On the inside there were lots of palm trees and more than one perfect postcard picture of the sandy beach with the palm tree bent out over the water. There was even a pink beach. We decided to have another potluck on the beach over there to get some other boats over to experience it. We started it around 2:00 so people could head back across the reef to the anchorage before dark. Of course no one did and we all swapped “well that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done” stories the next morning. We had six people in one dingy with some pretty good size waves coming over the bow. Gordon (from Ascension) was our wave deflector, KT our bailer, and the rest of us just hung on for dear life. We “only” ended up on the reef twice.

You’d think we would have learned. The next day we kayaked over to Island Sonata, who had moved their boat for the party. It was getting dark but we thought we could make it back easily in the dark. On the way over we had played with some very small reef sharks (one foot). On the way back the tide was out and we kept running aground, we didn’t have any shoes on so we couldn’t get out and walk across the reef. Every once in a while you’d here a pretty big slash and we’d shine our flashlight into the water and see a black tip sticking out, must have been the babies mothers/fathers. Then we had to paddle against the current back to the anchorage, which was rather scary at times. The view of the stars was incredible; you could almost guide yourself by the starlight.

The next day a few of us decided to dive the outside of the atoll so we headed out in two dingys to a place just east of the pass. As we slowed down to have Rick look at our location underwater, the tube he was sitting on exploded. We were right behind them and I thought that someone had dropped their wetsuit in the water because it looked like they were dragging it behind. It turns out that a shark attacked the dingy; he was going for the propeller but got the back end of the tube. We didn’t discover this until AFTER our dive, right in the same waters; Yikes!!! It must have been a pretty big one because the bite mark was about 9-12 inches in diameter; he “only” got half his jaws on it. We all had a new found respect for the creatures we had just spent a week playing with. KT spent a couple of hours diving with Rick. They started out in shallow water, but ended up going to 60 feet because KT was so comfortable. She loved it and may look at getting certified in Tahiti or Bora Bora. While KT dove I hung out with the locals and fed the sharks and Napolean fish. Magmell spent their entire stay hanging out with them and learned how to fish, gather coconuts, and weave baskets in the traditional way. We ended our southern pass anchorage stay with a steak dinner on Emerald (oh to have a freezer), we brought chocolate fondue and we all slept like babies in our food induced comas.


North Again

There was supposed to be northerly winds coming, so we moved back to the north anchorage (with only one mile of fetch instead of 28). The wind came from the north for the first night but then shifted back to the southwest/south for two days. With 20 to 30 knot winds, we had some pretty big swell in the anchorage; sometimes our transom was half under water and we buried the bow about once an hour. I had to constantly be on the lookout for chafe on our anchor snubber lines, it got so bad that people were making fun of me. At first they would see me go out and check (once every fifteen minutes or so), and they would follow suit. Finally they realized that I was having problems and stepped it back a notch. They all joked at dinner that every time they went out, they’d look over and there I was. The snubber takes the shock load of the swells as the rope stretches, instead of passing it directly to the chain. Because my line stretches so much, it moves in the chocks that guide it cleanly over board. These chocks have the designer’s logo in a raised casting EXACTLY in the spot where the snubber rubs when it is fully loaded up (nice job guys). I burned through 2 sets of hose, a new thin set within ten minutes. A couple boats snapped their snubbers, it was pretty touch and go because they were sitting about 50 feet from a bunch of huge coral heads. It was VERY uncomfortable and we couldn’t get off the boat for two days. Of course we celebrated our “release” by having another steak and fries dinner with an ice cream chaser. After the blow we all dove on our anchors to find them completely wrapped around coral head … ours was like a figure 8, with our anchor and boat at the bottom and a huge coral head at the top. It took Rick from Emerald, suited up in full dive gear, to get everyone’s anchor up before we left for Tahiti.

Kauehi, Tuamotos

Kauehi, Tuamotos

May 28th – June 5th , 2004

After entering the pass, we hosted our sails and SAILED eight miles across the atoll to the village. Yeah that’s right we sailed. The cruising fleet had all discussed their fears of coral heads reaching out of the depths and ending their trip and I added my Murphy’s attitude on top of that, so the last thing I expected to be doing was sailing across the atoll. However the people already anchored had done it, and there were two boats ahead of us acting as coral bombie locators, AND I was standing in the rat lines (webbing tied 5-6 feet in the rigging to get a better viewing angle) just to double check that they didn’t somehow just barely miss one that we would then smack into. Of course we made it across the atoll without incident and anchored in front of the little village.



Now this was paradise!!! The water was the most incredible azure blue that I have ever seen. This was surrounded palm trees, coral reefs and a very “cute” church at the center of the village. We anchored in 35’ of water and could watch the anchor hit the bottom (turns out that this was not even the best visibility). The difference between the Marquesas was like night and day. The Marquesas were awe inspiring because of the amazingly green landscape and mountainous volcanic creations unlike anything we have ever seen.



The Tuamotus were exactly what you would expect to find in a south pacific postcard. The black volcanic sand of the Marquesas was replaced with white or pink coral sand, and the temperature/humidity was much more acceptable.  We spent a couple of days exploring the village area, which literally sat just above sea level. Our first nights sleep was the deepest we have EVER had, dead flat calm, cool breeze and no bugs. On our first day, we relaxed and enjoyed our tranquil anchorage and did a little snorkeling off an abandoned pearl farm. I actually found a couple of shells (more like scallops than oysters) but there were no pearls inside. Our friends following us arrived just at dark and had to spend the night hove-to in the lee of the atoll. On Sunday we paddled to the village and enjoyed a quick walk around the little village, the one store had a couple of shelves with really no provisions (no beer or bread). The church was made out of coral blocks sealed with coral limestone and was, as usual, the centerpiece of the village.

I really wish we had learned French prior to our arrival. Our French friend François has such a different experience. He camps in the villages, usually in someone’s yard and becomes part of the village and part of a family. Luckily we have our kayaks, which seem to be a huge hit with the kids. We spent a couple of hours playing with the kids using the universal language of laughter and smiles to make our basic connections. It is so much fun to watch the interactions between all the kids, our function was to make sure that everyone got an equal chance (including the little ones and the girls). We met a younger Dutch couple on Max who had left Holland in October and had already sailed 10,000 miles on a boat they had bought just before they left. We pulled out some canned Gouda cheese from Holland (that we bought at Sam’s Club in Mexico!!) to share and found out they are giving themselves two years to sail around the world. They had been diving in the same spot and had found three black pearls in four shells… I was determined to find my own pearls the next day.

KT and I swam back over to the area, where I was sure that I would find my pearl. I must have spent three hours looking, opening shells, and finding nothing. KT gave up on me and went back to the boat, when I arrived I was so water logged I must have looked like a 90 year old man (with no pearls). Ugggghhhh! Our friends had settled into an anchorage on the southern end of the atoll where there was no village, so we decided to join them and sailed back across the lagoon (a different way than before).



It was blowing a good 20-25 so I was up in the ratlines the entire time, even though the chart showed there were no hazards on our course. We had the music going enjoying the sail, when I happened to look down at the exact moment the knot to the ratline I was standing on started to undo. I stepped over to the mast just as it gave way, KT and I stared at each other with the “wow that was close” look. I re-attached it; leaving a little more tail this time, and re-assumed my position. I took a look forward with the monocular, and noticed a huge uncharted coral head just off our starboard side. It rose straight from 100 feet deep to inches below the surface, I was thankful we ignored everyone’s advice that there were no worries and you didn’t need a lookout (a few more “black box” points for Billabong).



The southern end of the lagoon was like a Hollywood set of an uncharted island. There were three other boats (Emerald, Bobulona, and Waking Dream) anchored off of four small motus (little islands), we could each have our own private island if we wanted. The water clarity was amazing and we went ashore for some snorkeling in a beautiful coral area that felt like we were diving in a fish bowl. Ben from Waking Dream got out his Hooka hose and KT and I both got to take a turn. Even though the water was shallow (15 feet) it still made a difference for KT because she gets to stay down on the bottom and enjoy everything in more detail. She’s a natural underwater and the divers are all suggesting she take it up.

Afterwards we all gathered on the beach and enjoyed eating some coconuts and playing with the hermit crabs, the beach was literally covered with them.  I have a new found respect for the coconut, what an amazing feat of natural engineering. They carry their own water, food stores and protection (another tough fiber coating that covers the nut) on board, yet still float to remote places. Everywhere we looked there were coconuts floating in the water and seeding on the beach. We enjoyed eating the green, mature, and germinating coconuts. The green coconuts have an amazing juice that seems to have a sparkling essence to it and the flesh is soft and gelatin like. The mature coconuts are like the ones you get in the states, harder meat and milkier liquid. I used one of these to make coconut cream for a curry dish that night. You grate the flesh (inner meat) of a mature coconut and then add warm water. You kneed the mixture for a while and then squeeze it through cheesecloth (ps. It’s easier to buy the cans). The germinating coconut has the liquid inside replaced with a soft foamy ball known as a coconut apple. It has a light coconut flavor to it, which I enjoyed but others didn’t (mostly a texture thing). We all made coconut spears to break through the outer husk using the techniques we learned from Daniel in the Marquesas. The divers were planning a pass dive for the next day and invited me along. It had been about 10 years since I dove so I wanted to make sure it would be a relatively easy.

The next day we set out on Bobulona towards the pass entrance. There was a good breeze blowing and the fetch across the atoll made the swell uncomfortable enough that Dennis decided not to anchor the boat for the dive (he stayed aboard). Dennis brought Bobulona through the pass and we got KT and Lisa loaded into the dingy as diver pickup people. When I first looked into the water I couldn’t believe my eyes. From the edge of the reef on the surface it dropped down at about an 80-degree angle to about 150 feet deep, where it dropped off like a sheer cliff to 3000 feet. The visibility was easily 200 feet, and at first I was disoriented because I didn’t recognize that I was actually seeing Rick and Corbie from Emerald clearly at around 75 feet. The quantity of sea life was incredible, we saw hundreds of small tropical fish close to the reef, with a spotted eagle ray suspended at about 50 feet not even moving his “wings”, followed by a huge school of barracuda that were being “worked” by a couple of sharks. I can’t describe how small I felt around all the sea life, like I was part of the world’s largest fish bowl. We dropped to 90 feet where we ran into more sharks. Then the current started sucking us back into the lagoon at 3-4 knots. We go sucked up to 30 feet and then pushed back down to 90 feet again by the current. Shari from Bobulona broke hear ear drum, got vertigo, lost her sense of direction and had to be helped to the surface by Ben. I stayed down with Rick and Corbie as sharks in the murky water surrounded us. It was kind of strange because I have always been afraid of them, but I was in awe as they swam around to check us out. Corbie was funny because she was pointing out one or two in front of her and I had to tap her to get her to see the 5 or 6 behind her. We took a long time rising to the surface and the sharks kept circling. When we finally broke free we were in 4 – 5 foot standing waves caused by the current against the wind. After we were done Rick said that it was the most dangerous dive he had ever done in 30 years of diving. I reminded him that he told me it would be easy and would let me get back into diving slowly, He just smirked and smiled.

We spent the next day kayaking around the motus near the anchorage. I tried to “hunt and gather” for us and realized we would probably die in about a week after being stranded on a dessert island, because I needed another coconut to recover the fluids I lost to sweat trying to open the first one. Oh well, glad we had the boat, refrigerator and water-maker.

The next day Waking Dream organized a beach potluck, complete with a small quiet generator that provided music and Christmas tree lights for the trees. We all brought in chairs, hung out around the bonfire playing various musical instruments. It was a great night as we celebrated our private paradise and the adventures we had experienced getting here. On Saturday I did some boat maintenance, while KT recovered from the festivities. We left early the next morning for Fakarava, about a six-hour motor sail away. We took advantage of the extra power to rip my CD collection into mp3s and KT worked on journal entries/picture organization

Fatu-Hiva - Landfall

Fatu-Hiva - Landfall

The Anchorage at Fatu Hiva



After anchoring, Emerald and Island Sonata welcomed us with fresh local fruit, we showered, and took in the sights around us.  We couldn’t get enough. We took a brief rest, and then kayaked to shore with Rick and Corby from Emerald.  Little kids helped us ashore in trade for a turn to play in our kayaks, which we gladly turned over.  Next we joined the village in watching a huge soccer (or Football) match that was taking place, the winner would go on to Tahiti to continue in the games.  (A neighboring Island boated in its team).  After the first game, and no longer able to sit in the sweltering heat, we hiked to the waterfall with Emerald and Island Sonata.  It was quite a hike, and we were continually amazed by the sites, it was truly everything I every associated with “Tropical Island”.  The waterfall shocked us with its size and beauty.  We expected cool, but not outstanding.  We swam in the cool pool beneath the waterfall and snacked on Pamplemouse (aka Pomelo) (a delicious local fruit, like a grapefruit without the tartness and bitterness, and a bit sweeter).  Hiking back, John (from Island Sonata) persuaded us to detour UP for further exploration.  And up.  And up.  And up.  Truly exhausted, half of us stopped in a shady spot, while the men ventured on, to the top-most point they could reach.  Could this Island be any more breath taking?  Chris got some wonderful [photo] shots, yet when we looked at them later, we knew that no photo or video could do this Island justice.  The problem with going up is you still have to come down!  At the bottom of the “trail”, just before the “real road” starts we took a break and swam in a fresh water stream.  By now our legs were in shock, after 23 days of nearly no use, this was quite the introduction back to land!  When I stood still, my legs quivered.

We were introduced to the Chief of the Island.  He showed us a magnificent bone carving he made from the tusks of a pig - such craftsmanship and detail.  He also plays on the soccer team, so we were able to learn that Fatu Hiva won the match (hooray).  I still find it a bit entertaining that the Chief's name is Marc ... not quite as authentic as I was expecting!!!  (We later learned that the Marquesian's typically take a Euro-Catholic first name and a native middle name ... unfortunately I'm not sure what his middle name is).

Finally we made our way back to Billabong, exhausted and near starving!  My only other wish for the day was an In-and-Out Burger!  At the waterfall I joked that it would’ve been perfect if there were a guy frying hamburgers at the base.  We settled for spaghetti instead and then drifted off into the best sleep of the month … knowing that tomorrow we could do paradise all over again!

Landfall in Fatu Hiva: Every thing you dream of... and more
We only spent two days in Fatu Hiva.  We would have enjoyed more, but Fatu Hiva is not a port of entry, and we [technically] were there illegally.  Our second day there was every bit as joyous as the first.  In the morning Chris escorted in a few friends who had just arrived to introduce them to the Chief.  They hooked up with a cruiser who spoke excellent French, and spent the next few hours visiting with the locals.  Oh how speaking the language helps to unite!  How I wish Chris or I (or both) could communicate in something other then English.  Of course it wasn’t all bonding, the locals spent a large portion of the time telling Chris and gang what they “wanted” … in terms of items they were looking to trade for (things such as hats, shorts, t-shirts, etc).  On Fatu Hiva, such goods were preferred over cash (understandably so, since they had no shops and grew or raised most their own food).  The locals are not shy about what they want and are quite aggressive in making their trades … Chris and I were definitely outmatched!  When Chris returned to the boat, we gathered a few items and attempted to prepare for the upcoming trading.  Based on some readings and other cruisers experiences we knew the following:  make a SPECIFIC offer, do not just show them a number of things and ask them to “pick”, as they will pick EVERYTHING; separate items so that you are not pulling out a lot of stuff … once they see something they’ll want it (even if they don’t need it); and be prepared for them to ask for things “off your back”!  From Emerald, we also learned that the kids LOVE candy, so we brought along a bag to dish out along the way.

Before tackling the trades, we enjoyed another peaceful hike to the waterfall, taking more pictures of the same thing, but never getting enough!  Coming back into town we went hunting for the Stone Tiki and Tapa we were thinking of getting.  Our first stop was for the Tiki and to look at woodcarvings.  They were all beautiful, easily making us jealous that we don’t hold such a talent.  Chris really liked the Tiki, so we offered to try and trade. Chris pulled out two t-shirts and a hat.  She immediately grabbed all three and then asked “What Else?”  We said “Nothing, that plus some money”.  But she had a quick eye and had seen another t-shirt inside Chris’s bag.  “What’s that?” “That’s for the Chief.”  “Let me see.”  “Oh, it’s just a t-shirt for the Chief [lots of pointing and hand motions to try and further convey this]”.  “Let me see.” Reluctantly Chris pulls out the shirt to show her still saying it’s for the Chief.  She basically takes it and throws it over her shoulder.  Hmmm, guess it’s hers.  They continued to ask what else we had … looking for everything from soap, shampoo, and perfume to shorts, hats, bras, and t-shirts.  We offered fingernail polish as well, but it was the one thing she didn’t [originally] seem interested in.  Finally we convinced them that this was all we were willing to trade for the very small Tiki we wanted.  Luckily it was accepted, along with $20 dollars (originally she wanted $60 for it).  Of course in the end, as I was picking back up the fingernail polish, she said, “Oh, ok, we’ll take that too!!!"  

There were a few kids hanging around and we asked their parents if it was ok to give them some candy.  Of course it was, but little did we know that Chris was about to become the Pied Piper.  After handing the five children a piece each, the parents stepped in for some as well, not only for themselves but also for the other two to five children they had at home.  Then, after leaving the house, the kids immediately ran out in front yelling “Bobo! Bobo!” (Candy! Candy!).  Kids seemed to appear from everywhere.  When we entered the next house (to look at Tapas) kids hovered outside the gate peering over with their wanting little eyes!  We obliged giving out more and more candy … and laughingly turning away the kids who were trying to sneak in for a second piece!  We purchased the Tapa for straight cash (phew) and were lucky that a few other French-speaking cruisers were there at the same time … it was through them that we learned the prices were “Tahiti” prices and that the “local” price was less.  I think indecision helped as well, the longer Chris and I stood there debating which one we wanted the more the price dropped!  

Chris also got a kick out of the stickers on the woodcarvings, which read, “Made in the original Marquesian way”.  ‘Er, how original is the guy outback carving away with a sand saw and other power tools???  A tapa, by the way, is a painting or drawing done on thinned out bark.  The bark is typically brown and the drawing black.  The designs vary from abstract Marquesian symbols to animals and people.  Our tapa was stained with ginger root and therefore is light yellow rather than brown (this is what actually made it hard for us to decided on, I loved the design but wasn’t sure about yellow instead of brown).  The design is a Marquesian turtle with the Islands of the Marquesas within the design of the turtle.  The only downfall is that it’s too large to hang in the boat, so we’ll have to wait until we are land based again to appreciate it.
Island Visit - Espiritu Santo

Island Visit - Espiritu Santo


Two anchorages on Espirito Santo




On Wednesday (Feb 11th) we departed for a four to five day jaunt out to Espiritu Santo with Dave and Anna aboard as our first official sailing crew!  We have never been so spoiled.  Dave and Anna provisioned for and cooked all of our meals ... and they were all outstanding!  They run a charter out of Kootenay Lake, British Columbia (in the summers obviously) and love to sail ... so not only were they great cooks, but also great crew!  I could easily get used to having extra crew ... four extra hands sure makes EVERYTHING easier!  And now for a quick commercial break ... their company is Red Sky at Night Sailing Adventures (www.sailthekootenays.com, info@sailthekootenays.com, 1-877-RED-SKYS).  From the three nights we spent with them I can only say that anyone who charters with them is going to be extremely spoiled and come away quite relaxed!

Bahia San Gabriel

Dave took this awesome shot from the top of the mast .. with a film camera (that's my bald head)
http://www.daveheathphotography.com/

Now, we come to a bit of a problem in this journal entry ... although I started writing this Feb 28th with the intention of hopefully posting it prior to leaving La Paz or as soon as we got to Puerto Vallarta, it is now March 21st, and, as you can tell, I have yet to finish ... the "problem" is that we are in rapid prep mode for the puddle jump (South Pacific crossing).  Our intent is to leave the marina (Paradise Village in Nuevo Vallarta) on Tuesday morning, the 22nd.  We will anchor out at Punta de Mita (in Banderas Bay) and wait for a weather window to begin the crossing (so far we are hearing that a good window might come Wednesday or Thursday).  Anyway, my point is that I don't have time to tell you about our adventures at the beautiful island of Espiritu Santo, or how we finally ran into Sea Pilgrim again, or the interesting sights of La Carnival (Maudi Gras).  It looks like I'll have to finish telling you about our other small world experiences another time.  I also won't be able to get in the next journal entry about our trip from La Paz to Banderas Bay, our stay in Paradise Village (Nuevo Vallarta), or the great time we had when Greg and Lisa (from Ventura) visited.  And finally, you'll just have to wait to hear about all the other fun puddle jumpers we met and our hard week of work in order to prepare for the jump!

But I figure I've got 3,000 miles to work on all that -- so stay tuned!  In the meantime we hope to be updating the website's "Current Location" (on the home page) with our Longitude and Latitude about once a week (during the crossing)... if you're interested you'll have to check back on your own -- there won't be any web update email that goes out.  We have no idea what the internet situation will be once we get to the Marquesas, but we promise to get back online as soon as possible.  Thanks for traveling with us through Mexico ... see you in the South Pacific!
Passage Journal: Cabo San Lucas to La Paz

Passage Journal: Cabo San Lucas to La Paz





It wasn't until we began planning this trip that I took any interest at all in geography.  When more and more people began talking to us about different routes and their favorite locations it became apparent that I had quite a bit of learning to do.  And in the process of reviewing globes and maps I found myself wondering "How will we ever do this in five years ... there are just too many miles to cover -- too many places to see!"  While the last two months have only reinforced that thought, they have also shown me that in many many ways our expansive world is really "A small world after all".  Along those lines I've always believed that there might be just a bit of truth in the "Eight degrees of Separation", but now I am fully convinced!  Perhaps you'll become convinced too ...

We left behind the circus of Cabo early Monday morning (Jan 19th).  We were finally headed up into the Sea of Cortez.  Other than the no wind factor, the day was beautiful.  We gave Pedro Jr. (the electrical auto pilot) a break  ... I took the wheel while Chris enjoyed a [very large] book.  With the rocking motion of the boat, the sun beaming down on me, and the relaxed atmosphere, you can easily understand how it is that I began drifting off (to sleep).  And you can just as easily imagine my surprise when I happened to lazily open my eyes and see two fisherman in a small ponga-like boat less than 15 yards off our starboard side!  "Oh Shit!" I said, sheepishly smiling at Chris as he jumped up ... "What do you mean you didn't see them there???".  Luckily the two fisherman didn't look too disturbed, I'm sure they had to wonder why we choose to motor by so close when we had the whole damn ocean, and I hope we didn't ruin any big catches for them ... but if they knew how close they came to cleaning the bottom of our boat they'd probably not care too much about the fish!  While I can easily joke about it now, I learned my lesson and no longer sleep while driving.

We had planned on stopping in Punta Los Frailes, but as the day wore on, the wind and swell picked up ... and of course they were both coming directly into our bow.  With the engine at full throttle we were barely making headway.  We went for the sails, but of course that meant tacking in order to try and hit Frailes.  It soon became clear that we weren't going to make Frailes before nightfall.  Rather then enter the anchorage in the dark we decided to continue up to Ensenada de los Muertos (the Bay of the Dead).  We arrived in Muertos around 7 a.m. on the 20th.  There wasn't much to the bay, some nice condo-like houses (owned by rich white people) and a "yacht club" (which seemed extremely out of place).  We've heard from a number of sources that there is some great diving and snorkeling in this area (although we didn't stay long enough to actually verify this -- plus the water temperature was still too cold for me to motivate).

We did a little bit of land exploration and decided to treat ourselves to a meal out and a cold beer (at the yacht club).  During our lunch a couple of guys were nearby watching a whale just outside the harbor.  Chris started up a conversation with them ... it turns out that Dave, a Canadian who is traveling through Baja in his land yacht "Nooki" along with his girlfriend Anna and dog Wood, was motor-biking at Punta Colnett Christmas Eve.

Punta Colnett: Our first international anchorage w/ Billabong's anchoring spot and Dave's Location

He recognized our boat and remembered Sea Pilgrim and Koinonia.  Dave had even taken some photographs of Billabong in the setting sun while anchored at Punta Colnett and had attempted to signal us with a flash light from shore! Currently they had motor-biked from La Ventana (where they were wind surfing) to Muertos for the day.  Before returning to Billabong, we gave them one of our cards and told them we would be in La Paz in the next day or so, for at least one to two weeks.  What were the odds that we would run into them at Muertos?

We returned to Billabong planning to nap, have an early dinner and then head out towards La Paz.  As we were preparing to lift the dinghy engine, we were interrupted by "beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep beeeeeeeeeeep...".  It was a new alarm noise for me, so I just stared blankly on as Chris began lifting our floor boards (turns out it was the bilge pump alarm).  We were just a bit disturbed to find a good seven inches of salt water (Chris did the taste test) floating around.  "Where could this be coming from?" Chris mumbles as he kneels over the water.  "Um, I didn't close the foot pump or galley through-hole" I mention timidly.  In that superman speed that I'm now becoming more accustomed to, Chris was under the galley sink closing both.  Sure enough it was the foot pump.  Apparently the pump was broken, and now siphoning water INTO the boat!  We spent the next few hours pumping out all the water, mopping up the bilges, and sorting through wet ziplocks (thankfully we tightly closed everything in the bilges).  After we had the mess somewhat cleaned up (rather than the naps we so desperately wanted), we decided to stay the night and leave for La Paz the next morning.

The trip to La Paz was (thankfully) uneventful.  Rather than enter La Paz at night we were going to anchor just outside at Puerto Ballandra.  However, while the chart we had showed we should've been in 18 feet of water, we were still showing 60 feet.  We kept inching closer and closer to shore, but were no where near 18 feet and it felt as though we were practically inches from some of the rocks.  "Screw this" ... we went for La Paz.

I was entertained by dozens of jumping, flipping rays.  They were black on top and white on bottom, and came sky rocketing out of the ocean, high into the air, and then ... black-white-black-white-black-white they flipped back down into the ocean with a loud splash.  They always seemed to jump in pairs, the second ray launching just as the first ray touched water.  I imagined a little competition going on down below;  Ray1 "check this out", Ray2 "oh yeah, watch this ... I got at least two more inches than you" ... and so on.  Or perhaps they were determined to fly ... "Come on Ray1 you can do just give a huge jump and flap away" .... "almost, here let me try ....".  Friends of ours who had cruised Mexico last season told us about these rays in Frailes, describing them as "popcorn" (because so many of them were jumping/landing that it sounded like popcorn popping).  Since then I have looked forward to Frailes, and therefore was a bit bummed when we missed it.  Seeing them on the way to La Paz made my day!



The entrance channel into La Paz is long and quite shallow.  We made our way easily enough, although the depths (hitting less than 12 feet at times) were be a bit disturbing at times.  At the end of the channel, you can cross over to anchor in the "Mogote" or you can anchor in the "Virtual Marina".  We decided to anchor in the Mogote.  We reviewed the charts to find the "entrance" (a sandbar separates the Mogote from the channel, and can only be crossed over to at one particular spot).  Chris was at the helm and reading off the depths ... "18 feet ... 15 feet ... 12 feet ... oh shit".  At that moment we hit 6.5 feet and hit bottom.  To say "hit" might be a bit of an exaggeration, it was really more like a nudge (we were going at an extremely slow pace).  Chris quickly backed the boat up before we got stuck.  We looked at the chart again (according to the chart we had been perfectly centered on the opening) ... knowing that the hurricanes that hit last season most likely made our charts obsolete, we were also basing our decision on the types of boats anchored in the Mogote ... i.e. we decided that the opening was most likely not near the catamarans.  We radioed the fleet asking for advice.  We were told to 'line-up' the municipal peer (on the mainland) and the fisherman's cross (on the Mogote).  The sun had already set, so we could not spot the fisherman's cross.  We guessed and tried across again -- with the same results (touching bottom).  It was a bit more difficult to back out of this one, it seemed when we backed up, Billabong swung just enough to back us up onto a different sandbar ... but with good maneuvering by Captain Chris we made it free again.  "Why can't we just anchor on this side" I asked.  At the time we weren't sure what the difference was, and Chris agreed that he'd rather anchor then try across again.  We could always move in the morning (when hopefully we could see the fisherman's cross).

It was two days later when we learned we had anchored in the "Virtual Marina" (aka Marina Santa Cruz").  The rumor has it that they have been trying to build the marina for a number of years, but every year one hurricane or another comes and wipes out their work.  In the meantime they charge you to anchor there!  Now that's entrepreneurial!  But at 30 pesos (three US dollars) a day, and access to trash, a dinghy dock, and showers we figured it was a good deal and stayed.  It also made for a drier dinghy ride to shore (less distance).

We spent most of the next day walking around La Paz checking in.  This was our first port with a Port Captain, and therefore the first time we actually had to go through the entire process.  It starts with a visit to Immigration, next move on down the road to pay your port entry fee to API, then walk to the near edge of town ... nowhere near any port ... to the Port Captain's office.  Think you're done?  Nope.  The port captain's fees must be paid ... but due to past years corruptions (at least that's the rumor I heard), you can't just pay the port captain directly.  Instead they give you the "bill", which you then take to the bank (which is way back in town, and nowhere near the P.C.'s office).  After paying at the bank, you have to take the receipt (which shows you paid) back to the P.C.'s office in order to finish the process.  All in all we figure it takes about three to four hours to do a full check-in or check-out (to check-out you have to repeat the whole process).

The 23rd was Chris's 37th birthday!  We celebrated with a trip into town and fish tacos at Chris's favorite taco stand (one that he had visited 10 years ago when down with a friend on the friend's boat).  Chris took me to the "Market", where I sighted my first skinned cow's & pig's heads! Back on the boat I made him carrot cake with cream cheese frosting and we devoured cake while he opened his presents (and yes, I sang happy birthday for him ... although so out of tune he probably would've preferred I'd skipped that part!).

A day later we pulled out the kayaks and paddled over to the Mogote.  We decided to land our kayaks and do some exploration on foot, which due to a 'swamp' inlet required some wading through the water, where I was stung by something (our best guess is a jelly fish), after which my knee sported fat red welts.  Our attempted shortcut across the little island-like sandbar found us traipsing through a very dense mangrove forest (mainly because we were to lazy and hot to turn back and re-trace our steps).  The next few days were pretty mellow, we spent most of our time walking about town or relaxing on the boat.  I made plans to return home in order to pick up our French Visas, and as it turned out, a friend of ours was coming down to Mexico and would be in the area the same week I'd be back in the states.

Prior to my departure we moved Billabong to Marina Palmira ... we didn't want Chris to be "single handing" in case bad weather hit, and this way he would be free to visit La Ventana with John (our friend who was coming down).  Nothing in cruising can come easy, and apparently this includes docking.  We confirmed with the marina three times which slip we were to take and that it was a starboard tie (we had even visited the Marina a few days prior to look at the available slips and get a feel for the place).  After the last two month's events I'm not sure why we were both so shocked to see a boat already docked in "our" slip.  Luckily the slip next to it was open (however it was a port tie), so as I frantically ran around moving fenders and dock lines, Chris tried to adjust our course for the other slip.  I'm sure we didn't look too graceful, and we had to call out to some guys walking down the dock for help, but we managed to park without ramming into anything and so I suppose you could say we were successful!  (The next time we entered the marina a few weeks later we prepared both the starboard and port side with dock lines and fenders ... just in case!!!)

In order to use mileage to fly home, I had to book my flight from Cabo San Jose, which meant a three hour bus ride from La Paz to Cabo.  After riding on the "about town" buses, and our few attempts to get time schedules for the inter-city buses (where we struggled with our little Spanish, pictures, and lots of hand motions) I was more than worried about my ability to make it to Cabo.  Would I get on the right bus?  What if we got the times/locations wrong and I ended up in Timbuktu?  Would I be able to get from the bus station to the airport? Would there be farm animals aboard (ok, this may seem like an odd one, but I'd heard stories ... later realizing the stories I heard were a good 10-20 years old!)?  I tried to convince Chris to take the bus with me, and then ride back with John (his plane was landing in Cabo an hour before my plane left).  But Chris assured me I would be fine.  And of course I was.  There were two buses loading at the same time, but I managed to get on the right one.  And when the bus stopped in Cabo San Lucas, my Spanish failed me when I attempted to ask if this same bus continued on to Cabo San Jose ... the passenger kept saying no, and just as I was about to get off (very confused), an American (who spoke Spanish) helped me out.  All I can figure is that the passenger thought I was asking if we were in San Jose, not if we were going to San Jose.  And the bus itself ... nicer than any Greyhound I've ever been on ... all that worrying for naught!

My week home was spent running around town, and back and forth to Los Angeles (for the French Visas).  Chris spent his time hanging out with John in La Paz and La Ventana ... mostly learning to kite board (you can read about his week 'alone' here).  I was a bit jealous (of Chris) because I felt that I was in a constant rush trying to get a list full of errands done, while Chris was hanging out ... and for the first time not worrying about or working on Billabong.  When it's just the two of us (Chris and I) and we are anchored out (versus tied up in a Marina), Chris is constantly watching Billabong, watching the weather, checking the tides and currents, and so on.  But during this week, with Billabong safely tied to the dock, he was able to relax and just hang out ... I wanted to be there for that!!!  I wanted to walk around town with him, without stopping to look out at Billabong or commenting on wind shifts.  On the other hand I was extremely happy that for once Chris was focused on other things (like kite boarding) and not "working on the boat"!  It was a week Chris truly deserved.  I realize that Chris was also missing out too, after all I was the one getting to see family and friends.  Seven days isn't much time though.  I left Ventura still aching to see so many people and a bit depressed that I didn't fit in a trip to Arizona to see the twins.

For my return to La Paz, I had new worries ... mainly customs (and physical strength).  I was bringing back about 100lbs of boat stuff.  How would I carry it all?  Would I get through customs?  As we were landing and I was filling out the customs form, one of the questions asked about fruit.  I happened to have eight oranges from my Grandpa (you might wonder why I would bring oranges back, but unless you've tasted these you just wouldn't understand).  For obvious reasons I did not want to get stopped by customs and have to go through all my bags and possibly pay taxes on the gear I was bringing in, so I check "no", no I was not brining in any fruit.  My plan was to simple throw away (sorry Grandpa) the oranges while waiting for my baggage.  My plan faltered when I realized there was no good place to do this inside.  Uh oh.  Now I started worrying that if I got the "red" light (meaning I had to be 'searched') and they found the oranges, then they would definitely go through everything that much closer.  I explained to one of the custom official helper guys that I had checked no, then realized I was carrying a few oranges.  He said just to check yes as well and explain it when I was passing through.  Oh great, now I had both "yes" and "no" filled in ... could I be any more of a target?  I picked up my luggage and drudgingly headed towards the customs area ... images of spending the next few hours explaining the 100lbs pounds of gear in my bag and trying to avoid import taxes lingered.  A very unsmiling female reached out for my form as I started to say, "I ...", ignoring me she said "Press the button".  I pressed and got the green light (for those who haven't been to Mexico, after gathering your luggage you go to a red light - green light stop sign, press a button ... if you get green you are free, if you get a read light then you are 'searched').  She didn't even look at my form, not even one glance, she started to ask "What were you say.....", but I just picked up my bags and went for the door ... oranges and all!  I decided I definitely stress too much!

When I finally made it back to Billabong (entailing another three hour bus ride to La Paz and a taxi to the marina) I was welcomed by Dave and Anna (and of course Chris)!  They had hooked up with Chris at La Paz, and later in La Ventana and were back in La Paz for the day.  After hearing tales of La Ventana and Baja Joe's (www.bajajoes.com) it was decided that Chris must take me there!  We hitched a ride with Dave and Anna the next morning.  I'll let you read Chris's description of La Ventana and Baja Joe's (available here), and just add that it was great ... the place, the people, and the wind!   Like Chris I also took lessons from B.J. (www.bjsadventures.com) and only wish we had stayed longer so I could get in more practice.  Unlike Chris I cannot get up (on the board) for longer than five seconds ... which means I was digesting quite a bit of salt water!  My more competitive side insists that I inform you that I did not spend as many days in La Ventana as Chris and did not have the prior kite training either (no way can I let Chris be getting up on the board sooner than me!!! Ha Ha).   Chris also bought me a couple of early Valentine's Day presents ... a smaller kite (which he flew but I have yet too ... wonder who that kite was really for!!!) and a harness.  After my lessons I learned that he was relieved that I can't really get up yet, otherwise we would need another board too!!!  He also bought me a necklace that one of the kite boarding pros, Chris Gilbert, makes "on the side"!  Oh, and it just happens that one of Chris Gilbert's sponsors is Billabong (the surf company)!!!  Small world huh?

We hitched a ride back to La Paz three days later with Claire, another guest of Baja Joe's that was returning home.  Maybe you aren't yet impressed with my small world coincidences yet, so here's another ... Claire works for an oil company (up in Alaska) ... it just happens to be the same oil company that one of Chris's friends (Eve) from Ventura works at -- and of course they (Claire and Eve) are friends!  Claire took some pictures of us and Billabong to email to Eve.

Chris had a bit of a shock the next morning, when he was randomly bitten by a dog (right in the behind ... or buttocks as Forrest Gump would say)!  Of course our first concern was rabies.  We spent the morning tracking down the dog's owner ... turns out the he wasn't officially owned by the Coast Marine (a local store at the Marina), but they did take care of any stray dogs who wondered into the Marina / Boat Yard.  They said that they take them to the Vet, get them fixed, and get them all their shots.  So Chris was safe!  They were concerned that he just bit Chris like that and said they'd keep an eye on him ... I learned that he had just come back from the Vet the day prior, from being fixed ... and well, if I was him I might be a bit irritably too!
Passage Journal: Turtle Bay to Cabo San Lucas

Passage Journal: Turtle Bay to Cabo San Lucas

January 25, 2004

Route covered by this post




I've been hearing (or reading via email rather) a lot of "what's going on with the website".  O.K., I'm a bit behind, but when faced with the choice of sitting below deck on the computer versus kayaking, exploring towns, or kite surfing, well you can imagine which I pick.  Before leaving Ventura we had a number of other cruisers tell us to "take projects", "bring lots of books", "you'll have sooo much time", etc etc .... we aren't sure what we are doing different, but I can honestly say it doesn't feel like there are near enough hours in the day.  By the time this journal hits the website, it will already be mid February.  We are still planning on crossing to the South Pacific towards the mid to end of March -- only one month away!  Where did all the time go?  Originally we thought we'd make it all the way to Zihuatanejo, but now we will be lucky to hit Puerto Vallarta with enough time to complete some last minute preparations!  We aren't complaining, we've loved every minute of it, and would definitely not go any faster.  It does make us wonder though, will five years really be enough?

Anyway, on with the last month's events ...

We stayed in Turtle Bay for a full week, departing on Jan. 16th.  All in all it was an absolutely wonderful week.  I was a bit nervous when we first arrived because we were instantly greeted (or attacked depending on how you look at it) by a Ponga and a small rowboat.  The local in the Ponga informed us he was the BEST source for clean diesel, then continued to circle around us, huge smile, just watching (or lurking).  The kids in the rowboat stayed their distance until we had finished anchoring and killed the engine, none-the-less, as a newbie I’m not a fan of anchoring with an audience.

The kids rowed over to our boat, grabbing hold of our foot rail, at which point Chris says "you're the one who speaks Spanish".  To this day I'm still unsure of where Chris got the idea that I speak Spanish [he says it’s the three years of high school Spanish that I took, but come on, that was High School … “My name is KT”, “My sister is pretty”, and “It is very hot today” can only get you so far].  But what the hell, I grabbed the 'ol Spanish book and went on deck.  I managed to ask how they were, what their names were, and what the dogs name was.  They were polite enough, but I could not figure out what they wanted.  So we sat there, me thumbing through my book cursing myself for not actually listening to those Spanish CDs, they, hanging on the Billabong not saying a word.  The best I could think to say would've translated directly as "What want?".  That just seemed harsh to me, after all, wasn't I the guest?  Finally I went with it, because after 10 minutes of them still not asking for anything or attempting any communication, just hanging on the side of our boat (occasionally bumping into her hull with their metal row boat), I decided I didn't care if I sounded rude. They were there for Garbage (and money of course).  Chris and I contributed and they were off.  Ironically when we came ashore later, there were our two trash bags, just sitting to the side of a building ... ahh yes money well spent!

While Turtle Bay is a small town with lots of Fisherman, it's a huge step up from the fishing camps we'd passed on the way.  There are no paved roads, and you could easily walk anywhere you needed to go, but oddly everyone appeared to be driving.  Sure, they most likely needed cars in order to get into major cities, but we couldn’t figure out why so many of them were driving (rather than walking) about town.

We were surprised to find an Internet location at all ... let alone one with five computers and USB connections.  Of course our first few days there THE [i.e. singular] town generator was down, and when it was finally up the connections were rather slow ... but we were pleased just to be able to read a few emails.

Our friends from Sea Pilgrim arrived a few days after us (they had stopped at San Benitos and Cedros Island) ... and when they came, they came bearing lobsters!  We feasted on their boat, followed by a game of Hoopla (great game if you haven’t tried it).

The next morning, we spotted a set of dolphins in the anchorage … we’d seem them roaming around every morning.  They seemed so casual and relaxed that I was convinced that they wouldn’t mind hanging out with me for a bit.  So despite rather cold-water temperatures, I jumped in the kayak and went racing after them.  First I tried the “in cognito” approach … coming in under cover (or as quietly as possible).  While I don’t think they cared one bit that I was there, they continued to swim beyond my reach.  Next I tried the “beat them there” approach … I could predict where they were going by the birds - the dolphins seemed to be feeding, and the location of dense gathering of birds pointed out prime fish eating spots.  Using this method I was able to get somewhat close, but not the put-out-my-hand-and-touch-them closeness that I desired.  Finally I went with the “all-out” approach … frantically racing after them, and sometimes imagining that my wake would be enough for them to want to come back and play (as they do with the bow of the boat) … hee hee.  Unfortunately they were just too fast.  I decided that the seals provided an easier target.

I began by casually stalking the seals.  I thought that if I just kept paddling around them, they would get used to me, perhaps accept me as “their own”, or that their curiosity would get them to come closer.  But they always kept me at a 'safe' distance, and soon I think my stalking became annoying, because one of them continuously barked at me every time he came up.  He would look in my direction with that “you … still … ARGH”, give me a few barks (which I returned), and dive back under.  I gave up on the being accepted tactic and went to all out sneak attacks.  One seal was casually napping in the water as I drifted over, I was so near, just about there, when he casually looked up, and oh the shock in his face!  He instantly jumped, stared me down and dove under.  I laughed out loud.

I probably spent a good two or three hours kayaking around, loving ever minute of it.  It was so perfect, so serene, and even though I couldn’t get within touching distance of the dolphins, seals, or pelicans, I felt like I belonged.  It sounds silly, but I don’t know how else to explain it.  It was so silent and calm, that I would just sit in the anchorage listening to the whoosh-whoosh-whoosh overheard as the pelicans flew by, followed by huge KURPLUNKs as they bomb-dived the water for the latest catch.  The seals with their human sounding breaths every time they surfaced, along with their loud BARK BARK BARKs whenever they noticed me.  And finally the phoo-phoo-phoo as the dolphins surfaced.   It was an collage of sounds, and I could’ve sat there forever … I didn’t even want to paddle as it interrupted the melody.  [BTW … I just spent five minutes sitting here in the cockpit with Chris trying to come up with the sounds – yep, that’s the cruising life!!!]

The next day, after checking email, we blew up our two-man kayak and launched our two individual top-riders and set out for the “other side” with Brian and Teri.  It was a long paddle over (later to discover 8 nautical miles round trip), but worth the effort.  A huge kelp forest and a small sea lion (or seal) family made for some great kayaking.  We also witnessed a true bird feeding frenzy – if only we could’ve recorded the sounds, I won’t even attempt it here!

The day after next, we did a bit of hiking which provided some great views of the town and our boats anchored below.

On the 15th we had a ‘final’ dinner on Billabong followed by a Cranium re-match (again Sea Pilgrim kicked our booties).  The 16th we departed, Sea Pilgrim was staying a few additional days, and would most likely spend more time in Magdalena Bay then us, so we weren’t sure when we would see them again.

As I write this we are listening to the Bluewater Net (via SSB radio), and Sea Pilgrim has contacted us … they are still in Mag Bay.  I’m worried that we won’t meet up with them in La Paz.  This I’ve decided is one of the bummers about this life.  You arrive somewhere new and its great … new things, new people, hopefully new friends.  But eventually you leave, or they leave.  It was hard to leave Ventura – and that will always be the hardest good-bye, but now I realize that the next five years are going to full of good-byes.  I recognize that on the other side of the coin we are going to meet more people and be introduced to more cultures then possible if we stay rooted in one spot, but that recognition doesn’t fully relieve the sadness that hits me every time we pull anchor.

While we had no wind on our passage to Santa Maria, it was not a boring passage.  For the first time in my life I watched the entire moon rise, from start to finish!

Journal Entry:  At first it was if a large cruise ship might be coming over the horizon, but rather what appears is the very tip of the moon and it slowly rises, transforming into a gigantic Halloween-orange ball, glowing, shedding its orange rays across the water.  As it rises, sitting just on the edge of the waters horizon, it’s as though you could easily swim to it, reaching out and capturing the glow (which is so orange and bright that the color alone feels warm) within your arms, embracing it.  And then, as if the moon is modest, and perhaps slightly embarrassed by your staring, it slips partially beyond a thin, low hanging cloud.  But not completely – just enough to make it mysterious – to make you anxiously await its return.  And as to not disappoint, the moon reappears, swiftly, gracefully above the cloud.  Still burning orange, but no longer seeming to be  within reach.  And it rises.  Lighting up the night, keeping you company, comforting you in the otherwise dark and lonely night.

With the flat seas and shadows created by the brilliant light from the moon, the water seemed to float above the rails of the boat.  At first glance my heart would momentarily skip a beat because I was absolutely sure that we were about to be flooded!  Even worse, once my eyes had adjusted, my imagination kept going back to the movie “Dead Calm” … I envisioned psychotic murders boarding our boat at any moment.

We spent our time in Santa Maria playing Skip-Bo and waiting out a storm.  Between the rain, wind, and breaking surf we could not go ashore.  In between hands, Chris studied his weather books.

After three nights in Santa Maria we pulled anchor for Magdalena Bay.  We anchored in one of the outside anchorages of Mag Bay, hoping to avoid any port captains or time consuming check-ins.   Mag Bay is known for whale spotting.  In the winter months (Dec/Jan) pregnant female whales enter the bay to birth.  Male and non-pregnant female whales hang out outside the bay (supposedly known to do tricks and what not).  As we entered the bay, we saw the blow from a whale, but it was too far away to make out anything more.  We explored the local fish camp, which had remnants of an old whaling factory.   We departed the next morning, spotting two more whales, both too far away to really get excited over (although I was ecstatic anyway, calling out “Chris Chris Chris”, only to have Chris frantically come up convinced we were sinking or some other tragic event was occurring … he was not amused!  I guess I’ll have to call out more in a more relaxed fashion next time).

We had a great sail (at last no motoring) from Mag Bay to Cabo San Lucas.  As night approached so did some very threatening clouds.  They seemed to surround us, but never actually hovered over us.  We were sailing in what appeared to be the only clear spot for miles!   And when the lightening started we were more than thankful for the opening!!!  At first we only heard some very distant thunder (so distant that I was sure Chris was only hearing things in his paranoid state).  But, as usual, Chris was right, and soon we were seeing lightening in every direction.  Of course the grounding rod we had purchased to attach to our mast was still in the states (it arrived after our departure).  Chris jerry-rigged an alternative (chain attached to our shroud and thrown overboard).  Ironically, prior to leaving Ventura, Chris was asked what his biggest fear [about the trip] was … without hesitation he responded, “lightening”!  I, not being the captain, and therefore not required to stress over such things, sat back to enjoy the show.  If you can get away from the fact that one strike can destroy your floating home, it is quite the beautiful site!  While Chris prepared the boat as much as possible I kept him informed as to where the clouds were moving, how much lightening I saw and if I thought we were getting closer.  For the time being we were still merrily sailing under a very clear patch of sky, and therefore safe.  We debated about trying to slow down (were we going to ‘catch’ the storm ahead?), but then we feared the lightening aft would bear down on us.  The lightening lasted about two hours, and we never left our clear patch of sky … easily surviving (minus a few extra gray hairs for Chris) our first encounter with lightening.

Cabo Anchorage

Coming around the point into the Cabo entrance was like entering the Big Top.  What a circus!  Everywhere jet ski’s, water taxi’s, and cruise ship transport boats zigged and zagged.  Powerboats towed banana rafts loaded with people or pulled individuals attached to parachutes through the air.  Chris had four words for me, “I told you so”.  All along he had warned me about the ‘nightmare’ Cabo was, but I had insisted on stopping here, having never had the money to make it down with my friends for spring break, I just “had to go”.  We slowly made our way through the bay and just as Chris was handing the helm over in order to go up and to the bow we heard a faint “beeeeep-beeeeep-beeeeeep-beeeeep”.  Instantly we both looked down to the motor alarm lights, the red light was on and the temperature was rising, fast!  Never in my life have I seen Chris move so fast.  It was truly superman in action.  In about ten seconds flat he was up on the bow, had released the anchor, and yelled back for me to quickly back down then kill the motor.  Turns out our fan belt had shredded.  Whenever we run the engine we check the motor (belts, water, oil, etc) at least hourly (in addition to our pre-start and post-kill checks).  The belt must have been stripped within minutes.  We are still trying to figure out what might have been the cause.  Luckily we were able to shut down the engine without any damage.  After changing the belt and letting the engine cool a bit we re-anchored and sat back watching the spectacle of motion around us.

We stayed in Cabo two nights, arriving Saturday and departing early Monday morning.  I would hardly consider Cabo part of Mexico.  Between the prices and number of Gringos, it felt more like Southern California.  By arriving on the weekend we were able to skirt around check-in and in doing so avoided some hefty fees (a few cruisers admitted to paying up to $300 just to anchor, and the marina charged $150 per night!).  We did splurge and eat a couple meals out, which were good, but could not compare with some of our meals in Turtle Bay or San Quintin … especially at four times the cost.  All that said, I’m glad we stopped, and have to admit enjoyed some of the conveniences (like good grocery stores, easy communications, fast internet) Cabo had to offer.