Looking for a Window
Around Dec. 18th we started looking seriously for a weather window to cross to Mazatlán. Winds in La Paz have been abnormally high with barely a break in the action. It’s been cold there as well - in the 60’s! I know…It’s just downright intolerable that I had to break out my jeans and sweatshirt.

When I talk about a “weather window” that means we need favorable winds and seas for a certain length of time. In this case, we need a minimum of 3, preferably 4 days of benign winds. Part of that window includes time for letting the seas calm down from the previous blow, plus 2 full days of travel, and some slop time in case of a delay or the weather pattern moves quicker than predicted. Since we left San Carlos we’ve rarely seen a window that long. It seems impossible that we will get so lucky.

The Gift
It just so happens that a slight “window” was our Christmas gift. Wind maps from SailFlow.com show the big norther dying down on Tuesday the 22nd. It should be a good passage all the way through Friday, Christmas Day. But the blustery weather ramps right back up again on Saturday. Uggh. Gotta get in on Friday for sure.

Rest Stop
On Tuesday afternoon Dec. 22nd, we began our trip. First and only stop: Caleta Lobos. Think of this anchorage as a highway rest stop, only 10 miles/2 hrs out of La Paz. Our reasoning was simple: get out of the marina. It will be easier raising anchor in the dark than maneuvering out of a marina and up the narrow La Paz channel at night. We can meet our buddy boat from Costa Baja, Jeff and Breezy on “Starfire”, at the anchorage. Getting together to plan the next day’s crossing was imperative. Plus, we could easily coordinate our departure and mentally prepare for the passage.

We arrived at our “rest stop” excited to finally be leaving port, headed for parts unknown. It was a beautiful day: blue sky, light winds, the anchorage was lovely and serene. All was well with the world. Our buddy boat Starfire wandered in a ½ hour later and we met on our boat to strategize. Later, while eating dinner in the cockpit, we enjoyed a peaceful, moonlit evening at anchor. The perfect beginning to a perfect cruise. Then it started…

Trampoline Bed
Around midnight, the wind picked up. Night winds in La Paz are specifically called Coromuels. They are unpredictable timing-wise, but usually emanate from the south or southwest. Unique to the La Paz area, they are generated by cooler winds from the Pacific side of the Baja Peninsula funneling through the mountain gap to the warm waters of La Paz. Evening Coromuels can last for a few hours or all night, causing uncomfortable wind waves until they cease.

Well, this Coromuel was the gift that keeps on giving. The wind began from the west, instigating moderate west moving wind waves, a direction for which our anchorage was wide open. On top of that, after 4 hours of this, the wind then switched to the south, which means we now pointed south, with westerly waves rolling right into our side. All…Damn… Night.

Sleep was almost impossible as the boat rocked side to side as it sat beam on the waves. Bouncing up and down from the south winds, rolling side to side from the remnant west waves, Indigo was a washing machine and we were the helpless load of clothes. I literally dreamt my bed was a trampoline. Repeatedly, I woke up from a fitful half-sleep swearing my body actually took flight off the v-berth after bouncing so hard. My only consolation prize was that I miraculously did not get seasick from all that ocean motion.

5am Takeoff
The alarm rang at 4am. Uggh. Is it really time to get up already? Soooo tired. But even we “retired” people sometimes have a schedule to keep. Despite my fatigue, I held my crankiness in check and made coffee and cereal while Brian prepped the boat for departure. The freakish midnight winds and waves had not dissipated. At all. At our 5am launch time, the moon was just setting. Indigo and Starfire: rockin’ and rollin’ and raisin’ anchor in the pitch black together… this was beginning to be a crappy crossing.

230 miles and 2 days
From Caleta Lobos, we headed southeast to Mazatlán. No more rest stops. Motoring or sailing an average of 5kts, this 230 mile passage should take approximately 46 hours.

I started out at the helm, steering anxiously surrounded by darkness, oscillating awkwardly side to side. Indigo uncomfortably rode beam-on to the wind waves for over an hour. But as we rounded the corner into the San Lorenzo channel, the sun rose, our angle to the waves eased and the motion wasn’t as bad. The farther away we traveled from La Paz, the better our wind and waves. We shot across the top of the Cerralvo Channel to the north tip of Cerralvo Island, sailing with 12-17 kt winds on aft quarter (in other words, a really nice sail). Past the island with 200 miles to go, we were finally out in the Sea of Cortez. Our winds lightened considerably with favorable sea conditions…just as Sail Flow had predicted. Ahhhh. I relaxed.

Buddy-boating
This will be our 7th “passage”, to us meaning one or more full nights at sea. But it will be the farthest we’ve gone offshore. On the Baja Ha Ha rally, we only were ever 40 or 50 miles from land at any given point. Crossing the southernmost and widest part of the Sea of Cortez, we will be exactly 100 miles from terra firma center-sea. We are happy to be buddy-boating with our friends on Starfire. It’s a little more fun to be in VHF communication as well as within visual sight distance with another boat on such a long passage. Gives you a warm fuzzy knowing someone else is out there.

No one but us and Mr. Moon
And there was literally nobody else out there for 200 miles…no lights, no other sailboats or fishing boats, no dolphin escort. Once, at night, we passed a tanker by about 2 miles and another large freighter out much farther during the day. We briefly glimpsed a whale catching a breather about a ½ mile to our stern. Other than that, we were alone with the sea and the stars…and the MOON!

Aside from our Christmas present of a wonderful weather window, our other gift was a gorgeous full moon coinciding with said window. On Christmas Eve (our second day of the passage), the blindingly-bright full moon rose before the sun set and stayed with us until after the sun gloriously rose again on Christmas morning as we pulled into Mazatlán. We had an entire night of exquisite moonlight to guide our way...every minute; now THAT’S the way to sail. What synchronistic timing. A 100% full moon on Christmas Day is a rare celestial event in and of itself, last occurring 38 years ago.

Pretty Perfect Passage
Despite our rough start, we could not have asked for a better passage. We alternately motored and sailed depending on wind strength. We slept well; we ate well; the wind waves were low most of the way. Thankfully, it was not a Cranky Crossing like last time. Christmas Eve Day we happily sailed to the Christmas sounds of Mannheim Steamroller, Johnny Mathis, The Muppets Christmas (my personal fave) and various old school icons like Burl Ives and Perry Como. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

Too Fast
As Christmas Eve evening began, our perfect light winds increased. The now 12-15kts normally would have been good sailing conditions as we were flying. But we needed to arrive at Mazatlán near dawn. So we reefed and double reefed and still flew at 4 kts towards our goal despite our best efforts. At this rate we’ll get there at 1am! I hate when that happens. When you really need to get somewhere, you don’t get enough wind; when you just want to slow down, you get too much!

After a while, the wind eased and we ‘snailed’ our way towards land under reefed main and no jib, poking along at 2.5kts… on purpose. We arrived 10 miles out from harbor at 4am Christmas morning. Still dark, we needed to wait until sunrise to head into port. So we bobbed about in the lumpy remnant wind waves for 2-1/2 hours, the current pushing us slowly in the general direction of the port at about 1 kt an hour. I could have crawled faster. As soon as the sun peeked out, we began our final motor to the marina.

Timing is Everything
The lumpy wait was worth it. We were so glad to have a well-timed entrance to Mazatlán marina harbor at exactly high tide. 3 issues: dredging, shoaling and tidal flow. The marina harbor entrance is super narrow (shockingly so). It shoals quickly and therefore needs constant dredging. So timing a port entrance at high tide in the morning is important. Mid-tide is reportedly only 7ft deep according to the marina. Arriving inside the channel at 8am, we saw 18ft. But this was a very high tide, caused by the full moon. One cruiser told us they hit sand at low tide the day prior - 4ft! Yikes. He luckily was able to back up but needed to dangerously skim the dredge, passing by its long hose with a mere foot to spare.

That’s another problem, the dredge. We’ve heard it currently runs from 10am to 2pm and then again from 4-5pm or thereabouts. Running dredge = no entry = bobbing outside for hours ‘til it stops. Problem is, when it stops, it’s now low tide time… or it’s dark. Just can’t win. Current advice from multiple sources: stay far to the left/north side of the channel, hugging the dredge, to avoid shallow water in the opening, whatever time you arrive.

Complicating matters, we’ve heard rumors of a 4kt current running as the tide goes out. Currents can drastically make docking difficult pushing the boat around.  Not fun. Later on in the morning I could see flotsam floating down the channel towards the sea at a rapid pace, verifying there is quite a current running. Not to mention all the tourist boat activity in these cramped quarters once the hotel guests wake up. So, all around, coming in at high tide sure seems like a solid bet for the best possible conditions and we were pleased with our good timing.

We made it!
We even survived a bit of harried docking at Marina El Cid. Performing a squat and shallow S maneuver in the VERY narrow fairway to get into our slip, we nearly clipped the anchor of one boat. But, the important thing is… we made it and were thrilled just to have not hit anything. (Not sure how we’re going to get back out again, but we won’t dwell on that subject.) We checked into the marina then made a bee-line to the hotel restaurant for much needed coffee and waffles for $10, just steps from our boat. Oh joy! Methinks we’ll eat here… like… every day.

After exploring the tropical hotel/marina grounds, we enjoyed a restful afternoon in the arms of a warm sparkling pool and even hotter hot-tub. Oh yeah, I think I’m going to like this place. No infinity pool like Costa Baja, but El Cid has TWO pools (with waterfalls and Playboy mansion like grotto under the falls…without the Playboy bunnies) and a huge hot tub AND a swim-up bar. Along with fellow buddy-boaters Jeff and Breezy, we finished the day by savoring in our successful crossing with a celebratory Christmas dinner. We made it to Mazatlán! Woohoo!

First item on our agenda: Star Wars!

By the time you read this, Indigo will be somewhere in the Sea of Cortez on our way from La Paz to Mazatlán! (Yes, this blog is on a timer.) We are buddy-boating with friends on Starfire and will be in VHF communication with them the entire 235 mile journey. That's a full 48 hours at sea. Woohoo! The weather miraculously looks great for the next few days so with any luck, we’ll arrive Christmas Day. (Don't panic moms if it takes us an extra day... or two!)  Finally getting to Mazatlán will be the perfect Christmas gift!

So Merry Christmas! From mid-ocean!

If They (us) Can Do It…
Walking down the docks at Palmira, we kept passing a sailboat flying a current 2015 Baja Ha Ha flag. They were from Dana Point, at least according to their boat’s hailing port. So we thought, hey, we should try and talk to them, being former neighbors from Oceanside and all…

A few days later, we caught them dockside and asked about their Ha Ha experience. The ensuing conversation went a little something like this (I’m paraphrasing here…):

Us: Hey, we noticed you were on the Ha Ha! We came down with them last year. How was it for you?

Them: Windy! (…more talking) Hey, what’s your boat name?

Us: Indigo.

Them: Indigo. Indigo. (You could see the wheels turning.) THE Indigo?

Us: (Confused.) What do you mean THE Indigo?

Them: Do you have a blog?

Us: Yes.

Them: Oh, YOU’RE Indigo! We follow your blog! You’re bookmarked!

Us: (Taken aback) Oh wow. Cool! (More conversation.)

Them: You’re an inspiration! Yeah, we figured if they can do it, why can’t we?

Yes, she actually used the word “inspiration”. I got all emotional from their sheer enthusiasm about following the blog and gave her a hug! Thank you for that, Gail. You made my day… my week! I just met a complete stranger cruiser who has bookmarked me! We’re celebrities! (OK, OK, in our own minds anyway.)

Later, we had them over to the boat for beer and fun conversation. Gail and Ron sailed down from their home port in Dana Point with the 2015 Baha Ha Ha on a Catalina 320 “Lokomaika’i”, meaning Amazing Grace in Hawaiian. She is a retired teacher, he a pastor on a one year sabbatical. Congratulations to you both on succeeding in following your dream! Track their adventures at lokomaikai.wordpress.com.  

Why the blog?
During our conversation, Gail and Ron asked me why I started the blog. It began primarily as a means for my dad to live vicariously through our adventures. Of all the people I know, he would love this life more than anyone. So I go through a lot of trouble and slow internet to post lots of photos that I know he will appreciate, hence the shells and rocks and ships and sunsets. And because I like that stuff too (which is why we are here).

Now, I write it for our many family members and friends who follow it closely to apprise themselves of our whereabouts… and so they can visualize how we live and what we see as we meander along this adventure. We like showing our nieces and nephew unique items we run into, like starfish and manta ray skeletons. We even have a 2nd cousin (Hi Amy!) who sometimes uses the blog to teach “perspective” to her grade school students! I don’t know how my words could possibly be utilized for that, but I panicked when I found out. Shit, you mean I have to watch my language and subtle references? No, she edits that out. Whew! :) 

But this is the first time we have met a fellow cruiser who follows the blog without any connection to friends, family, our old marina or our boat manufacturer. And I was floored and honored to have been considered even a tiny source of motivation for accomplishing their cruising dream. Wow.

THANK YOU!
So… to all of you who read this blog: family, friends, friends of friends, friends of family, marina staff, Pacific Seacraft owners, Ha Ha participants, current cruisers and future cruisers…. thanks for reading. A BIG thanks. You make this blog a worthy task.

And specifically for all you future cruisers: Gail from Lokomaika’i is right… Seriously people, if I can do it, YOU can!

The crew of Indigo is currently resting our wind-weary bones in La Paz for a couple weeks at Marina Palmira. While I miss the incredible infinity pool, hot tub, spa-shower and pool-side cervezas at Marina Costa Baja, we wanted to see what Palmira had to offer. Here’s what we found…

Advantages:
Bigger slips – Palmira has really big fairways; we could easily perform a last-minute U-turn if needed…and we did, twice. Plus, their slip widths are also wider, making docking less traumatic.

Mini-organic market – Each Wednesday, several vendors from the bigger, organic street market out in town gather at Palmira to hawk their wares: smoked salmon, homemade sausages, honey, ground coffee, fresh pastries, breads, vegetables, etc. We’ve happily purchased delectable cherry turnovers, sticky cinnamon rolls, flaky BBQ meat pies for lunch, fresh sourdough loaves and slices of sweet potato pie with dark chocolate topping. Mmmmm. This convenient little market is a huge plus in my book. We don’t have to make that trek into town!

Mini-mart – Here you can purchase the ever-important cold beer (for that last-minute get-together you were just invited to), Gatorade, chips, bread, etc. They also have minimal boating items and cleaning supplies.

Walk to town – It takes us about 45 minutes to walk the bayside Malecon into downtown. Doable. They do have a shuttle 3 times a day - just sign up for a spot early in the day. Many Palmira full-time cruisers have cars and we have been offered several ride-alongs to town. Their query invokes a canine-like enthusiasm: “You wanna go for a ride?” Our ears perk up...a ride? In the CAR? OOOhhh. Yah, yah, yah. I go, I go! (We refrain from jumping up & down or running in silly circles, but just barely.)

Construction – Marina Palmira is undergoing a significant overhaul. Just before we arrived they finished renovating the floating docks. Currently, the pilings are being restored, one by one. The mini-mart and marina offices are in the midst of moving into newly modernized spaces. Brand new restroom/shower facilities (I’ve heard they are very nice) should open soon, completing the circle.

People – We’ve met some very nice cruisers at Palmira. People who invited us over for margaritas or beers, given us some sage advice, have offered us rides, even told us we could use their truck (we didn’t/couldn’t… I’d feel weird driving around the car of someone we just met…still, very nice to offer).

Other amenities – 2 restaurants, good laundry facilities, friendly & helpful marina admin folks, a bit cheaper monthly rate. Two chandleries are conveniently adjacent to the marina: La Paz Cruiser’s Supply and Cross Marine Works. Run by two sets of very knowledgeable and nice cruisers, these guys are information gurus.

Disadvantages:
The walk to town – Yes, it can also be a disadvantage. Although doable, it’s pretty exhausting to walk the 2.5 miles one-way and back. But then again, we ARE out of practice. Costa Baja has many more shuttle times so it’s easy to schedule your day around them.

Spotty, sometimes non-existent internet – big surprise. No marina has seemed to corner the market on good internet.

Wind waves – The mouth of the marina is open to wind waves traveling right down into our slip. Indigo is constantly moving around in the surge, pulling and pushing and squeaking and squawking against her lines. And it’s been overly windy (still) almost every day since we’ve arrived. (Though, this water circulation does make Palmira’s harbor cleaner.)

It’s not nearly as bad as Marina Cortez, which is so unprotected from waves I once got seasick walking their pitching docks during a big blow. On the flip side, Costa Baja’s inner harbor is completely enclosed, so we rarely stirred an inch.

“A little bit louder now”
At Costa Baja, we had the Fun Baja boats directly behind our slip, constantly taking passengers out on snorkeling excursions, all day every day. At Palmira, once our piling was finally replaced, we lost our snug little 60ft slip to move near a highly active power boat. Nearly every day, several people are busily cleaning, blocking the dock with kayaks and equipment, blaring the same Nicki Minaj and Taylor Swift CDs over and over. Yee Hah. If I hear “Call Me Maybe” one more time…

And then there’s the pterodactyl.
While Costa Baja always seemed to maintain a rotation of annoying little yippy dogs on vacation, barking from one condo or another, Marina Palmira apparently has a macaw. The first time we heard this thing we thought it was a recording… someone playing a prank. But it’s real. I cannot even begin to spell out the screeching noise this bird utters when it’s peeved. “Rrrrraaaach.”  See, that doesn’t cut it. Just visualize Jurassic Park III, when the aviary cage breaks, liberating all those pterodactyls to freedom. Yeah, it sounds exactly like that.

“I’ll Be Back”
Overall our first impression of Marina Palmira is a good one; we may stay here again in the future. Except right now, we are just trying to leave. We have started looking for a 3-day weather window to cross to Mazatlan. It’s howling 26kts today and Mr. Wind doesn’t look like he wants to give us a break any time soon. At least I can’t hear Taylor or the pterodactyl over all this wind noise!

We decided to beat it.

Thursday, Dec. 3rd at 1:30pm we left the “relative” security of our mooring in PE and headed south. Enough of this wind. We just want some peace. And I’d like to be able to go to shore already! Tired of waiting for consecutive northers, we were willing to go all night. Yes, you heard that right.

Escaping Veges
But to get to the peace of La Paz we had to roll through some punches. Just outside the harbor, the 4-5ft waves snuck up upon us. I was below cutting vegetables for a couscous salad for dinner when it started. Suddenly the boat heeled over… sharply. Veges started rolling everywhere, dishes and utensils slid towards me attempting their escape. I wedged myself into the tilted galley trying to put my hands and elbows on anything that moved and finished as fast as I could manage. “Cut that out!” I told Brian, like it was his fault.

The 2-Second Cortez Roll
In a 15-18kt healthy breeze we flew down almost-buffaloes at 6kts for about 3 hours. Of course tacking southeast out to sea we were at that perfectly uncomfortable angle… almost beam-on to the large waves. Each second knocked us sideways on a 15 degree angle. I literally could count: “One-ee-and-ah”…whop… the mainsail would shake, rattle and roll, and the jib would luff violently and lose power. ”Two-ee-and-ah”…whop…the mainsail slammed to the other side. It’s a wonder we could still sail so fast. Lashing off a preventer line from the boom to one side of the boat helped control the banging, mostly. Anything we neglected to securely fasten certainly was flying around downstairs - but we weren’t about to go get it.

I Think We're Alone Now
As the sun set beyond the mountains, our wind died. We began motoring in the pitch black along the equally blank coast; not a single light to be seen on shore. It’s a testament to just how far we are from civilization.

Another First: Anchoring in the Black
Our original plan was to travel all night just to put on miles. But after surfing down waves much of the night, we opted to stop in Timbabiche to get a few hours of sleep. Why? Well, no one (guess who) wants me tired and cranky. I wasn’t (yet).

Anchoring in the dark is tricky. Although our chartplotter seems pretty accurate, one reef in San Juanico wasn’t charted. Had we not seen the swell breaking over it at dusk, we may have run it over in the dark. (Our secondary chart system did portray the reef.) It’s also very difficult to judge spacing between boats using just that tiny light at the mast tip. Moving amongst multiple boats in a narrow anchorage would be dreadful. Then there’s sudden shallow water ripe for keel-raking, fishing buoys & homemade mooring balls lurking to snag propellers, unlit pangas out for a midnight troll…all hazards you can’t see ‘til it’s too late.

But we had anchored in Timbabiche once before, so we were sure of our surroundings. Our previous anchor point was already sited on the chartplotter. I knew not to go north towards the rocky point or much inland of that spot to keep us in about 16 ft of water. Farther south was all sand and wide open. It’s the only anchorage along our route that we decided we’d feel comfortable driving around in at night.

So for the first time ever, we anchored at 10:30pm under starlight alone. We only had to avoid two other boats. It figures… they were parked right on top of my old anchor point. Had there been 12 other vessels, we may have waived off. We turned our bright spreader lights on so Brian could work the anchor and I could see his hand signals. Thankfully… no drama. In fact, it went quite swimmingly. Whew! We downed my pre-made couscous salad for dinner and fell into bed, exhausted but happy with our new accomplishment.

On the Road Again
It would be a long, 57 mile day to Isla Ispiritu Santos. Today was destined to be the best weather day of the week at 9-11kts. We needed to arrive before sundown. In order to do so, we had to get on the road before 6am, just before the sun rose. This was the third time we’ve pulled up anchor in the dark; it’s much easier than setting. Mind you, those other 2 boats were far enough away that we weren’t nervous about colliding. Plus it wasn’t windy. So we had the best scenario possible.

Day 2
It took half the day to motor down the benign San Jose Channel in light 4-5kt winds. As we approached Isla San Francisco, its silky serene waters called to me. Darn it, if only we could pull into its alluring cove and stay awhile. But coming out of the lee of both San Jose and San Francisco islands, the 4ft waves from last night popped up once again. Our peaceful evening did little to abate their force through the night and we were hit with the same rocking, rollicking swell. But by this time, we had enough wind to sail…a pleasant 9kts. We took advantage and the boat sailed wonderfully across confused seas to Ispiritu Santos.

We arrived at Ensenada Gallina, dropping anchor just as the sun disappeared. We would NOT have tried going into this place at night; rocks littered the sea floor. We could see them so clearly, even at dusk and where our depth sounder said 12ft…it looked like 4. Yikes! Right full rudder!

Last Day – Dec 5th
Saturday, we again raised anchor in the dark in order to get into our slip at Marina Palmira before the big winds started. Our early departure allowed a spectacular viewing of the sunrise over the San Lorenzo Channel.

Baja Ferry
Suddenly, the Baja Ferry appeared on our hind quarter. On a course through the channel, he was heading for La Paz, yet angled significantly away. Then our AIS alarm went off - he changed course and was headed right for us! It’s not a great feeling to have a big ship bearing down on your rear end at 20 miles per hour. Our AIS told us he would pass us on our right at about a 1/4 mile. Still too close. So I steered towards land to allow more distance. I added a photo of the radar in the slideshow below. We are the tiny dot in the center. Land is represented by all the red blobs angling to the upper left and top of the screen. The ship is that huge red blob just to our bottom left. It’s nice to see exactly where he is relative to our location.

Flipping Slips
Instead of going to Marina Costa Baja, we thought we’d try Marina Palmira. Motoring down the La Paz channel, we called in for our slip number. But as we pulled near, there’s a boat in our slip! And the one next door was occupied with a floating construction derrick in the midst of replacing a piling. Frickin’ eh. Now what?

Turning away, we hurriedly hail the marina - she has us go to a different slip. Good thing there are wide fairways here in which to turn around. Slip numbers are located at the end of the pier and again on the dock box. We see the box number first and head towards it. But just outside the slip, we realize the number on the dock is different from its box; the darn dock boxes are switched! We are heading to the wrong slip! Son of a…  

So we make yet another turn, performing a full figure 8 and make our way to the other side. The Mexican fuel dock workers, along with all the cruiser bystanders, attentively watch us do silly circles. Glad we could be the entertainment highlight of their day.

Comfy Couch
Luckily, the spot we are heading towards is a 60ft slip near the end of the pier. It’s so long you could darn near fit another Indigo in back of us. Docking was a piece of cake. Except we aren’t meant to stay long… once the piling on the other dock is finished, we lose our comfy couch and are relegated to slumming-it with the smaller boats.

The Peace
Ahhh. What a good feeling to finally arrive in La Paz. It felt like coming home. We are happy to be here, if only for a couple weeks. We look forward to the excellent grocery stores (abundant cheeses to choose, plus I can actually find pickle relish and fresh ground coffee), organic market (can’t wait for tasty treats from Lolita’s pie man and bread from Pan de Les), and awesome restaurants (Marina Azul, here I come). I welcome a hot shower, the ability to do laundry in a real washing machine and cleaning my boat from salt build-up. Plus, I can use as much electricity and water as I want! (Brian can’t say I have to wait ‘til tomorrow to charge my dying ipad.) Once again tethered to land after 28 days, our weather worries are, for a change, non-existent. Peace.

Well, this blows…
We planned on leaving Puerto Escondido a couple days after Thanksgiving but the winds were not cooperative. Again. Another norther was coming… up to 30 kt winds Monday through Thursday. What? That’s only 2 good days of weather before it hits. You mean we are stuck here for a whole week? Sigh. I suppose there are worse places to be trapped. Better to stay here on a new mooring ball surrounded by 360 degrees of mountains than out in an open anchorage with nasty swell worrying about dragging anchor. So we stay put.

Constant Wind
It’s now Tuesday, Dec 1st. We…OK…I… am getting ancy. Constant 20+ kt winds are tedious. Puerto Escondido is THE place to be though, as at least 25 other vessels are here riding it out together. One lone boat called into the radio net from “out there” in the high winds and rough seas. Fearless or crazy? Apparently they got pooped…meaning a large wave flooded their cockpit full of water. The weatherman reported 7-8 ft seas at 7 seconds today. Whew. Glad we are in port.

So we sit. And we wait. The wind is howling. Indigo is in constant motion. Wind waves persistently rock the boat, splash against the hull and jerk our mooring ball. We are not rolling; thankfully there is zero swell from those 7-8ft seas inside this protected bay. But the boat swings a good 45 degrees… very quickly. It’s kind of like tethering to the end of a water-ski rope, moving in and out of a wake. If you were to look outside from below through the companionway, watching the mast of our neighbor boat appearing and disappearing from sight is dizzying. The dinghy is bouncing up and down in the waves, slapping and splatting and tugging mercilessly on its line. We removed the motor so as to not worry about it flipping over.

Need more terabytes!
So, we watch a lot of DVDs when we’re stuck. We are certainly grateful for those who have given us the gift of cinema (you know who you are). Our latest hard drive transfer took an entire day to copy all the files and we didn’t even download half… need more terabytes!

We just watched the latest Hobbit flicks and hearkened back to a favorite 80’s movie The Goonies! But right at the moment we are more into TV shows. Here is our playlist: Just finished the 4th season of Game of Thrones, started Defiance and the 2nd season of The 100, in the midst of the final season of Justified, the 5th season of Alias, the 3rd season of Shield, the latest season of Walking Dead and the first season of Downton Abby (Terry, he likes it already, he just won’t admit it yet). We downloaded all of Battlestar Galactica AND Game of Thrones which we will watch all over again… ‘cause they are that good.

Baking Spree
What else is there to do when you can’t go anywhere and you have no internet? Use that oven! I came across my mother-in-law’s recipe for toffee bars and realized it is the perfect boat candy. I’d never made it but it looked easy - it requires just 5 readily available ingredients. I already knew it was delicious – this stuff disappears in the blink of an eye when she makes it. Ooooh this is going to be YUM-EEE.

MASSIVE FAIL!
I don’t think I’ve ever made something that looked this gross. First-off, my odd-sized pans necessitated jagged, broken crackers along each side. Then my brown sugar didn’t dissolve readily into the butter… the oil kept separating and would not smoothly combine. I think it’s because this particular Mexican style brown sugar is dry and granulated, not sticky and moist. So I probably over-boiled to get the two items to meld together. Once the toffee finally turned bubbly and thick I took it off the burner. Too late.

As soon as I began pouring over the saltine crackers, it was already cooling into rock hard candy. Not fast enough, my toffee formed a dog-poo-like lump that immediately congealed upon landing. The next pour over my second pan was even worse. Spreading the mixture was impossible - I only succeeded in disintegrating the poo into crumbles. Now it looked like dirty kitty litter! Putting them in the oven didn’t help smooth out my mess. Then the chocolate chips, dried out from severe summer heat, were a crumbly jumble, also refusing to melt down. Undeterred, I finished it off by adding pecans on top.

I have embarrassingly supplied photo-proof of this abominable creation below… my disgusting-looking Kitty Litter Toffee. Despite the lack of presentation skills (Gordon Ramsey would be appalled), it still tasted awesome and we ate every last crumb. So I suppose it wasn’t a total failure. Here’s the recipe… you should try it. Really!

Mom Gioia’s Toffee…AKA Christmas Crack (google to see what it should actually look like…it’s everywhere on Facebook)   Place a single layer of saltine crackers in a 9x13 pan. Melt 1 cup butter, mix in 1 cup brown sugar. Boil 3 min. stirring constantly. Pour over crackers. Bake at 400degree for 7 min. Sprinkle immediately with a 12oz bag of chocolate chips. Spread when melted. Sprinkle with chopped pecans or other nuts. Bam. Seriously good stuff.

MORE WIND?
Now it’s Thursday, Dec. 3rd. We are anxious to hear the weather today on the Sonrisa radio net, anticipating this darn wind to die off so we can leave tomorrow. Yay! Geary says the winds should abate and we’ll have a nice 10kts on Friday and half of Saturday. BUT… Saturday afternoon the winds ramp right back up again to 20-30kts! Wait. WHAT?? For 3 more days! WHAAAAT??? Are you kidding me?

El Nino Year?
Last year, before we left for Mexico, everyone was warning us about El Nino. “Oh, it’s going to be an El Nino year. You’re going to get crazy weather, big winds…” Bah, we said. And we were right. In November and December we dealt with the normal northers but they were well-predicted, lasted 2 days… 3 days tops… and then you get at least a week or more of great weather.

THIS year, it seems reversed. Everyone is disgusted with these non-stop norther patterns: an entire week of wind, 3-4 of which are really high winds, then 1, maybe 2 days of pleasant sailing weather. Worse than opposite. It’s been 25 days since we left San Carlos and I can remember only 2 entirely calm days. Two.

Now what?
It would take 3 long-haul, 40-mile days to get to La Paz. But we only have 1-1/2 days of good weather. So here goes our discussion...

Option 1. Travel Friday and Saturday. Hope we can get to San Evaristo on Saturday and hunker down for the week. It’s still 40 miles from La Paz but we’ll be closer if we get a good one-day window. Except… is everyone else thinking that? There are 25 boats in here, the majority of which are probably headed south at the same time. Will we be jockeying for anchor spots?

Option 2. Stay another week. Hanging out here isn’t exactly bad; it’s great protection, no swell. But dinghying to shore in this chop is, at worst, pretty rough, at best, annoying. We only go once every other day. No kayaking. No snorkeling. No exploring. We’ll need to rent a car for a day-trip into Loreto for groceries. And what if we end up with the same weather sliver again next week? We sure seem to be getting truncated traveling windows.

Option 3. Overnighter. Leave Friday and go 24 hours. A straight shot. Seriously, this is Cranky Crossing girl actually considering an overnight just to GET to our slip and be done with this wind already. But then again. It’s a full 24 hours. And we’re not even sure we’d get into La Paz before the wind picks up again. Plus, we’d have to motor to ensure we do it within that time frame.

What’s behind door number #4 folks?
By noon on Thursday, the wind lessened and the bay calmed down. We took a dinghy ride to the “window”, a low and narrow land bridge, to view the sea-state for ourselves. While breaking waves crashed on shore and the sea looked a little bumpy, there were no buffaloes. It was supposed to be 18kts today but we hadn’t seen much wind at all yet. Hmmm. Maybe we leave right now? Get a leg up?

From Punta Chivato, we raised anchor before first light, sailing south ALL DAY dead downwind in 18-20kts and semi-rough seas. The boat lifted on 4-5 ft white-cappy waves and slid down again 5 seconds later, rolling to and fro. I tried to take a video to show the boat rolling and surfing down the waves… but upon viewing, it just seemed like a walk in the park. Hmmph. Whatever. These waves were “almost-but-not-quite-buffalos”... I’ll explain in a sec. Needless to say, I was glad to be going with the waves, not against them.

Punta Pulpito
Punta Pulpito is so named due to the way the land juts out forming a long, low spit. At its point, the rock rises abruptly, almost 500ft high, into what looks like a preacher’s pulpit. Most folks bypass this cove, traveling from Concepcion directly to San Juanico, a long 53 mile trek, whether you leave from Santispac in the south or Chivato in the north. Pulpito, while small, cuts 8 miles off that journey. (Doesn’t sound like a lot… but it is for us, on average, almost 2 hours!)

As we rounded the corner of the pulpit, wind suddenly whipped around the point and blasted us before leveling off inside the small anchorage. We didn’t end up going to shore - too tired after a long day of wrestling the boat downwind for 10 hours. That low spit forming our little bay isn’t very high and the wind funneled steadily through it from the northwest onto our boat all night.

Pulpito’s shoreline is all rock; I didn’t see a beach easy enough to land a dinghy without puncturing our inflatable – but we didn’t try either…next time. Large rocks piled at the water’s edge seemed to abruptly plunge into the sea. With all those rocks, we were surprised at the anchor-friendly, sandy sea floor. We could ease the boat crazy-close into shore, while still maintaining 15ft depth. So the all-night winds weren’t a bother: wind waves were minimal, we didn’t get any swell and for some reason, we didn’t seem to wildly swing on anchor like we normally do in high winds.

Pulpito is now a favorite - it was well protected from the north with straight-forward access, sandy bottom and no lurking obstacles (rocks/reefs were well marked). We feel able to enter it at night if needed since we’ve been inside already, as long as it was unoccupied. Plus, no one seems to want to take advantage of this little gem; we had it all to ourselves. Maybe we’ll just skip San Juanico altogether next time.

Buffalos
The next day we sailed to San Juanico - a short, easy 8 miles. It was windy all damn day; good for sailing, not so great for shore side kayak excursions. The wind kicked it up a notch just after our arrival, like it was waiting for us to anchor before it unleashed its vengeance. So we remained aboard all day. Outside the protection of the bay the “buffalos” were roaming. "Buffalos" are what boaters here call large, white-capping waves… about the size of a buffalo. A mile distant, we could see their furry white mounds on the horizon, marching single file south. Imagine slamming your car into a 5-7ft high buffalo at 10 miles an hour? Again and again and again…and again…and again. Not fun. When the buffalos are roaming out in the sea, well… you just stay put.

A Day in San Juanico
Another minor rolly night in San Juanico due to wrap-around swell. Up at the crack of dawn the next morning, we contemplated getting the heck out of dodge. Not a sliver of wind, but the buffalos were still visible, doing their thing. So we opted to stay put another day. We enjoyed the wonderfully calm, albeit cloudy and cool, weather. We paddled amongst dramatic geological formations all along the north shore. We met and hiked the dirt road with “Sea Angel”. And I finally added my tree ornament to the famed cruiser’s shrine. (In June, we had to abandon the anchorage to run from the hurricane, so I wasn’t able to add our memento.) Thankfully, it was calm all day and the buffalos dissipated, smoothing out the bay for a good night’s sleep and an even better following day.  

On down to Isla Coronados – Nov. 24th
TODAY was our first day (since we’d left on the 8th) of “Mexico weather”.  Ahhh… a balmy, warm breeze… rippling seas… a ripe sun. Now THIS is Mexico we remember from last winter. Where have you BEEN? We pulled into the south anchorage at Isla Coronados into 16ft of clear, 75-degree azure water. Perfection.

Rounding the corner of the island we notice “Impulsive” raising anchor. Acquainted from the Ha Ha, we hadn’t seen them in a year. So we quickly threw the kayak overboard and paddled over to say hi before they left. They end up staying as we offered to assist them with a refrigerator problem. Eventually failing on that count (didn’t have the right hose nozzle for refrigerant), they still invited us to stay for dinner. We enjoyed a lovely, becalmed evening under a full moon. All conversation ceased while graced with a moon-lit dolphin drive-by!

Puerto Escondido: Halfway to La Paz…or thereabouts.
Wednesday Nov. 25th, the day before Thanksgiving. It was only a 4 hour trip to Puerto Escondido, but during that period it went from sunny and flat… to 5 kts, just windy enough to lazily sail in blessedly calm waters for an hour… to no wind again… to harsh, grey sky with wind building… to rain. RAIN? I don’t think we have ever had to stoop to sailing in rain since the Chesapeake. What is this weather coming to?

An American Thanksgiving
We were lucky enough to be invited to Thanksgiving dinner aboard “Impulsive” with “Scoots” and had a great time! Both sailboats were participants with us on the Baja Ha-Ha last year and are heading out with the Puddle Jump rally this March to Fiji and beyond to New Zealand. Brave souls. We wish them safe travels.

What did we eat for Thanksgiving? Nooo, not turkey tacos. These two boats are big enough to have real kitchens…with counter space…and actual appliances. So “Impulsive” impressively cooked a butterball turkey breast, brought all the way from Cosco in Puerto Vallarta. We also dined on mashed potatoes, stuffing, vegetable casserole, artichoke dip and rolls. I brought coleslaw and layered bean dip. Let’s just say we ate ‘til we were stuffed and drank ‘til we were over-stuffed. But the best part was freshly-made pumpkin pie courtesy of “Scoots”. And no-kidding real whipped cream made with that high-tech thingy called an electric mixer! (No… I can’t have one of those…no room + not enough power = wooden spoon + my arm).

Stuck in PE
After that… we were stuck. Thanksgiving was the only non-super-windy day for an entire week. I have some awesome photos to prove how calm it was, for that one day…

Before we can move south, we must go north! To Punta Chivato.

In early June, hurricane Blanca chased us to the mainland and we were unable to visit Punta Chivato. This time, on our crossing to the Baja side, a norther was coming. Chivato is not very protected, so we skipped it again to hide inside the safety of Concepcion. Nov. 20th, on our way out of Bahia Concepcion, we decided the weather was finally good enough to try this anchorage, even though it was 10 miles in the wrong direction… north.

Why would we bother going out of our way? Yup, as usual, it’s my fault. I’ve been bugging the crap out of Brian to get us here. Finally, even though he soooo did not want to back-track, he relented. Resistance is futile.

See, if you get excited about shells, this beach is renowned. Hearing the scoop from other cruisers cemented Chivato as tops on my must-do list. “Impressive”… “Best shelling beach around” …“You MUST go there”. They were not mistaken – “impressive” is dead-on.

Shell Shrine
Stepping onto the lonely beach was like stepping into a shrine of sorts. A ½ mile stretch of sun-bleached, picture-perfect shells…layers deep. It’s a Sheller’s Nirvana. Where are the angels? Shouldn’t they be belting out a heavenly chorus about now? We tread cautiously, almost reverently. Water rhythmically lapped the shoreline, each receding wave making a soft, meditative “hissss” as the liquid sifted through sand and shells.

Thousands Upon Thousands of Perfect Shells
The sheer quantity is absolutely astonishing… mounds and mounds of shells. It’s quite remarkable that the forces of nature routinely transport countless shells up onto this specific little stretch of beach at exactly 27degrees parallel. But the physical size of these suckers is even more impressive…they are huge in comparison to all the other shells we have so far encountered. Or maybe they just seem bigger because the vast majority are miraculously intact! Whole, perfect, like nature’s retail shell shop. Cones, turrets, clams, snails…thousands upon thousands. Maybe even hundreds of thousands!

I could have spent hours, happily crouched with arm stretched out in shell-schlepping-yoga-pose, squinting in the bright sun. I was non-stop grins the entire time! Was this worth the Cranky Crossing? For me, yes. For Brian, OK we just won’t bring that up. Hey, see if you can distract him, maybe I can stay another hour…