Cruise Log #7, Bahia Tortuga to Bahia Santa Maria
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Updated December 23rd, 2004
We leave Islas San Benito for Bahia Tortugas and head farther south. Wind and waves and lazy whales affect our routing.
SolMate's revised route south from Bahia Tortuga (Turtle Bay) to
Bahia Santa Maria
via Bahia Asuncion and San Juanico.
November 18, Islas San Benito to Bahia Tortugas, 57-mile day trip with fair winds and friendly seas (the kind of downwind sailing we've heard about...) - sailed all the way and arrived in the anchorage before dark. Not necessarily good planning on our part, just lucky.
The panorama of Bahia Tortuga from a ridge above, a lovely bay protected on three
sides, and a town of
3,000 industrious entrepreneurs.
Pangeros assaulted each boat as we entered the anchorage. Their entrepreneurial spirit
was convenient on the one hand and irritating on the other. Miguel was our first visitor. He
offered the normal services, laundry, gas, diesel, and water taxi. Then, unfortunately, he
slipped (slimed)
into a begging routine. We ended up giving him the last of our apples, but disappointed
him by ignoring pleas for T-shirts. Begging is so ugly. Unfortunately, the local kids have picked
up on the routine, too.
Dinghy landing was easy, fending off the pint-sized entrepreneurs was another story. Our
first trip ashore the kids came running, grabbing the dinghy and helping us carry it up
onto dry sand. Then they offered to "watch it" for us. So, okay, watch away (our choice would
be what?). Well, in
actuality, the watching entailed playing on it like playground equipment.
When we returned to the beach, the dinghy was covered in sand, inside and out (I later
discovered that playground equipment is much preferred
to the alternative, seagull roost). We paid the little grubbers off with a soda and a Snickers.
They seemed
happy with that, but for the rest of our stay, we parked the dinghy on another beach, far, far
away from the grabby kid zone.
Saturday, the kids didn't bother going to the beach, it was Mexican Revolution Day.
Turtle Bay townsfolk celebrated with rah-rah speeches,
a parade, children's foot races, a baseball (beisbol) game and soccer. The SolMate and
Endeaver crews opted
for beisbol, the veterans of Bahia Tortuga against the veterans of Ensenada. And veterans they
were! Some, like the fireplug pitcher and the arthritic shortstop, experienced great
difficulty lowering their mits past their
middles. Consequently, it was not a defensive game. In the bottom of the 8th, when we lost
interest and wandered away, the score was 12 to 14. Most of the townsfolk had no interest in beisbol,
at all. The total crowd numbered about 50, including kids and dogs, which constituted the majority.
One clever entrepreneur in Turtle Bay overshadowed all the sleazy sheisters with his good old-
fashioned ingenuity. He rigged out Anabelle, a fuel barge, to provide door-to-door service for
diesel refueling. We bought 45 gallons of
clean, filtered fuel from Anabelle and the service was marvelous. Antonio brought the barge
alongside, handed Stan the nozzle so he could control the flow, and filled our tank and two
jerry cans for $2.28 a gallon.
Later on, we watched how Anabelle was refueled from a tank truck ashore. The tank truck parked
on a cliff above the anchorage so the run to the barge was downhill (gravity flow).
A huge, long hose ran from
the truck out over the water to Anabelle's anchorage, carried there by Antonio in his panga.
After filling up, Antonio stood in his panga holding his end of the hose while the tanker guys
reeled the hose back into shore. As the hose was spooled, it dragged Antonio, panga and all,
back to shore - low-tech ingenuity that paid big dividends (we assume, since 95% of the boats in
the anchorage used Anabelle's service).
November 24, Bahia Tortuga to Bahia Asuncion, 51 miles.
The bay and town of Asuncion.
As SolMate closed on Bahia Asuncion, we were startled by a call on the VHF to the sailing vessel passing Isla Roque. Astute seamen and navigators that we are, we knew we were indeed a sailing vessel, and lo and behold, we were just passing Isla Roque. With no other vessels in sight, we concluded the hail was for us, so we answered. Sheri (callsign "Sirena") introduced herself, welcomed us to Asuncion, provided some good local knowledge about the anchorage, and then invited us to meet her ashore.
Sheri's place (from left, MJ, Lynn and Stan from
Homers' Odyssey and Sheri, plus the Slade
Green
crew, the back of Erin's head and Christoph's arm).
Sheri, daughter Sirena and husband Juan, are gearing up to establish a cruisers'
yacht club in Bahia Asuncion. They've bought a few acres on the point and will offer cruisers
services such as money exchange, food, a social gathering place, water taxi, and language lessons.
Our plan had been to stop at Abreojos for whale watching, but the whales were behind schedule.
We consulted with the other cruisers in the anchorage, and some of us decided to set our sights
on Hipolito, instead.
However, once we got out in the wind, which was building by the minute, we decided that Hipolito
wouldn't be a safe place to
anchor, so we changed our heading to San Juanico, 80 miles further south.
November 29, Bahia Asuncion to Bahia San Juanico, a hellacious 118.5 mile overnighter.
Five boats ventured out for the challenging overnighter from Asuncion. To say we got beat up is an understatement. The gettin' there on a cloudy, dark night, choppy seas on our beam, and sustained winds in the 30s gusting to the high 40s, made this wonderfully calm, protected anchorage at Bahia San Juanico, a very welcome haven.
The anchorage, the boats and the crews; from the left, MJ, Brian
(Icariun), Allie (Loon III),
Lynn (Homers' Odyssey), Carter, Ellie,
Peter and Kelly (Imagine), and Ian (Loon III).
Allie and MJ ducked the waves in Scorpion Bay, a famous
surfer beach, where the waves
refract around the point
in perfect sets.
One of many ex-pats in Bahia San Juanico invited us in
to enjoy the view from his bedroom.
December 2, Bahia Asuncion to Bahia Santa Maria, 100.4 mile overnighter.
Thank goodness for Mr. 'Beke and lots of fuel. Halfway through the night the SolMate crew threw up their hands and started the engine, confounded by flukey wind and waves. We motored into Bahia Santa Maria at 10 AM and joined twenty other cruisers already anchored there.
On the outside of Bahia Santa Maria, volcanic hills drop into the ocean surf.
Hiking through three ecological zones, the desert, the mangroves and the dunes; and
Stan and Christoph on garbage detail.
Bahia Santa Maria was more open to the ocean than other bays we anchored in. Although
comfortably protected from weather, the hairy beach landings were through hungry surf. What a
challenge. Paddling the kayaks ashore was a real art: hover right outside
the surf line, wait until the largest waves broke, let the next wave (hopefully a small one)
just pass and
paddle furiously on its back. Picking the next wave was the key. Usually, a lull between
sets allowed time to paddle to the beach, clamber out of the kayak and wade to shore before
the next big breaker took a bead on the unsuspecting. It was difficult to judge when that
lull would be. The reverse process, launching off the beach into the waves, was even more
challenging, and wetter.
A little beach behind a rocky reef to the west of SolMate's anchorage presented a more
benign landing than the wide-open beach north of us - a pretty good landing spot for kayaks.
Surfers liked the north beach, but it was a real
challenge for dry landings. A channel on one side wound back through a
mangrove swamp, throwing more variables into the mix. Landing in the channel stretched
out the shore break while increasing the probability
of running aground on the shoal (not an issue for kayaks, which explains why MJ prefered
hers to the dink). The best approach for dinghies was to follow a pangero to the fish
camp just inside the lagoon. The fearless pangeros buzzed in and out over the surf
break, always dry, always unscathed.
Our beach assault goals were threefold, keep the kayak upright, stay in the kayak, and stay dry.
The breakers, of course, had opposite goals, douse us, dump us, and separate us from our
trusty kayaks. We've won, so far, but just barely. We expanded the envelope by
attacking the daunting north beach. MJ received a pretty good exit dousing when a three-footer broke
right on her nose, but the kayak stayed under her and she stayed inside the kayak as it bucked
over the break - 67% goal accomplished (she needed a shower, anyway)!
In other news, the Navy stopped by SolMate for a visit. Clad all in black under international orange
PFDs and brandishing
automatic weapons (one hoped they weren't loaded the way those boys slung them around), they
looked pretty intimidating from a distance - 8 of 'em in a 200-horse-powered panga. As they
drew alongside and handed Stan their painter, though, it was obvious that the median age was
12 and these kids were all in training. Cute kids, except for those weapons. Young El
Jefe-in-training sported
a set of braces on his teeth. El Jefe-the-elder spoke a smattering of English to match our
smattering of Spanish.
The two guys in charge boarded SolMate armed with a clipboard, not guns. Jefe-in-training asked
to see our documentation and proceded to fill out an inspection form. Surprise, surprise, when
that form was complete, he handed a form to Stan to fill out, a "How's My Driving?" evaluation
of their inspection procedures. TQM meets the Mexican Navy. Stan, always the diplomat,
asked them how to write "very professional" in Spanish. Then they gathered their forms and
were off, leaving only black footprints on our pristine (ha!) deck from their muddy military boots.
That wasn't the end of the military madness, however. During our interview, another US boat
suddenly upped anchor and tore out toward the open ocean, attracting the Navy's attention. Our
eight young dudes decided that would not do, at all, and gave chase. Last we saw, both boats
were rounding Punta San Lazero, the Navy closing fast.
