WHY would you want to swim with sea lions?
Sea lions in Southern California are nuisances. “Destructive” and “aggressive” are typical descriptive adjectives bandied about when discussing this noisy, messy animal. They routinely climb aboard boats, notorious for parking themselves permanently. Sea lions wreak havoc on marina docks too; I once saw one take out a dockside electrical box. Aggressive may be an understatement - adult bulls have been known to… unprovoked… chase us innocent dock-walkers. So, WHY on earth would we want to swim with them?

Sea lions may NOT be cute and cuddly in SoCal. But they ARE in La Paz! So much so, that swimming with the sea lions is one of the top things to do here in La Paz. Personally, I’d rate it #2 behind whale sharks.

Los Islotes (meaning “Islets” in Spanish)
At the northern tip of Isla Ispiritu Santos is Los Islotes, the most visited island in the Sea. This tiny set of rocky, volcanic outcroppings is home to a large sea lion colony. But not just any old colony. Just like the friendly gray whales of Puerto Lopez Mateo, these sea lions also seem to enjoy human interaction. Seemingly, the languid Baja vibe extends to animals as well as people! So visitors get to experience a whole different sea lion personality… instead of confrontational thugs, Los Islotes’ sea lions are inquisitive and playful.

World-Renowned Dive Destination and Photo Op
Multiple pangas zoom to the tiny islet daily, downloading floating flocks of brightly-colored snorkelers and bubble-emitting scuba-ers. Famous for its diverse sea life, numerous fish species, colorful corals and graceful rays can be found amongst the main attraction… the sociable sea lions. It’s no wonder the rookery attracts professional underwater photographers. My measly GoPro mingles with colossal & costly dive camera contraptions, each of us keen on capturing that once-in-a-lifetime wildlife experience.

What’s it Like?
With all the tourist activity, these guys are comfortable with humans sharing their waters. So they’ll not only swim near you, they’ll often swim with you. One young’un flitted amongst our group, checking us out. He then hovered perfectly still just a few feet away at the surface, serenely surveilling Brian and I with big, soulful, puppy-dog eyes. Awww. Squinting in the sunlight, I swear he was smiling. Projecting a casual curiosity, I’m pretty sure I heard him say “Wassup, Dudes?”

Mermaids of La Paz
On land, sea lions lumber and loaf; underwater they transform into lithe, graceful mermaids. Well, puppy-faced mermaids, just so you get the right image. Captivating creatures, we watched several play together, weaving around each other’s sleek bodies like DNA strands. One executed a perfect backflip then chomped on his own tail as if annoyed it was following him, just like a dog. Another hung from the surface ‘tail-up’, rotating his flippers to keep himself vertically suspended (just like water ballerinas rotate their hands to hover upside down).

I observed several enjoying the heck out of getting an easy back-scratch. Lying on a shallow rock ledge, the water surge routinely pushed and rubbed them along the craggy, back-scratcher rocks. They seem to enjoy swimming right at you, diverting suddenly when a couple feet away. They have been known to playfully nip at fins and are attracted to scuba diver bubbles. Because of this unique human interactivity, I’m going to go out on a limb and guess this is one of the most photographed sea lion colonies in the world.  One photographer made it his life’s work: www.losislotesbook.com
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Why didn’t we just sail there?

• Slow boat.

About 25 miles away from Marina Costa Baja, it takes half a day to get there in our slow boat. Indigo’s engine is 38hp vs. 230hp in a powerful panga. Mmmm...no-brainer. Plus, it sure was nice to let someone else do the driving.

• No anchoring.

The bottom is too deep and rocky for conventional anchoring. Although we’ve met cruisers who hook to the tour boat mooring balls in late afternoon after the tourists have vanished, I don’t think you are supposed to. The only other option is one person must remain on the boat steering it in circles, perilously close to hull-crushing rocks, while the rest of the crew (me) gets to swim. Not fun… or fair... for the captain.

• Too far to dinghy.

Dinghying from the nearest anchorage is almost 3 miles. While we know several people who have done this trek in a dinghy, a 3 mile trip in our dinghy isn’t worth it. Sporting a meager 4hp, we don’t plane well and could get swamped if the wind and waves picked up in this highly exposed zone. Plus, we distrust our petulant engine and would prefer not to get stranded.

A Wild Ride
So what to do? We rented a super-fast panga! Our ride out to Los Islotes was wild & crazy in moderate winds and building seas (we would have turned around in Indigo). But the Fun Baja boat screamed alongside the island, easily cleaving through whitecaps, hurtling out a ginormous rooster tail spray. I gripped the rail tightly, fearing this snorkel excursion would be a vomit-inducing disaster. I couldn’t help but envision 8 queasy faces bobbing on breakers at the tip of an exposed reef, being tossed around as though in a popcorn popper.

Fortunately though, the leeward side of the islets afforded just enough wave protection. Whew. While not calm, the sea agitation level was doable and the water remarkably clear despite a noticeable washing machine surge effect. The sea lions loved that surge action though as it assisted in their back-scratching endeavors.

Fresh Fish and a Heavenly Nap in the Sun
After ogling the sea lions for an hour we were all freezing cold and exhausted. The water was still a tad chilly on that last day of March, even with full wetsuits. After enjoying a delicious lunch on the beach we happily soaked up the sun on comfy chaise lounges. Amazingly, we had the entire beach to ourselves, perfect for kayaking and snorkeling the rest of the afternoon. Sublime!

Fun Baja 
For this all-day outing we decided on Fun Baja Tours out of Marina Costa Baja. As their tour boats are berthed only one dock away from Indigo, this was the ideal choice. It couldn’t be any more convenient than walking 30 steps! Not only could everybody snorkel with sea lions, but this was a great opportunity to quickly show our sailing friends the kinds of anchorages we get to visit. A private boat for 8 people cost less than $800. That’s dollars not pesos. It pays to do this with a group as individual prices will be much higher… think $150pp. While expensive, with these tour pros you get what you pay for. (Remember our recent whale shark hustle?)

What’s Included:
- snorkels & fitted wetsuits (meaning men’s & women’s, choice of shorties or full) that I can personally verify are rinsed out every day (I see them do it);
- an excellent English-speaking guide, a boat captain and a cook (yeah);
- an hour or so swimming with the sea lions at Los Islotes (guide swims with you);
- an afternoon at one of our favorite anchorages, Ensenada Grande;
- freshly cooked lunch on the beach: marinated fish of the day (we had mako shark), rice, soup & salad;
- after lunch, choose your activity: kayak, paddleboard, snorkel, beachcomb or kick back with a beer and suntan in comfy lounge chairs. 

Can you get much better than that? Nope. Well, only if you live on a boat. Minus the chaise lounges... and a cook of course. Wait, I’m the cook!​

“I'd like to be… under the sea… in an octopus' garden in the shade.”  The Beatles

We’d visited Isla Ispiritu Santos a couple times since our November arrival in La Paz. At Ensenada Grande, we snorkeled along the red cliffs and hiked the 3-1/2hr-long, boulder-strewn canyon with buddy boat, Lorelei. At Playa Bonanza on New Year’s Eve, we witnessed a beach fireworks display from our anchored vantage point. At Candeleros, we discovered the curious clowny-fish who fell in love with Brian’s bright blue reef shoes. But our snorkeling excursion off the north shore of Bahia Cardonal took the cake.

Oct-tastic!
As I slowly skimmed along in 4-5 feet of water, a billowing cloud of sand caught my eye. A few feet in front of me, I discovered a small octopus digging into the sea floor. I’d only ever seen one in an aquarium – what a treat! Excited, I called to Brian “Octopus! Hurry!” Get yer flippin’ fins over here!

We weren’t the only swimmers who noticed his silty disturbance. Several small fish congregated around the octopus, unafraid, darting about like pesky puppies. “Watcha doin’?” I presume they were gathering up goodies flung from his excavation.

Mesmerized by this creature, we watched it for several minutes. The contracted body/head was about the size of my foot, not including its 2ft-ish long arms. (Google tells me octopi technically have arms, not tentacles.) We are not sure what it was doing exactly; probably digging for a clam dinner. At one point, it stretched its arms, puffed its head and tented its body in full, posturing to appear as big and ominous as possible. Then it flashed color briefly to a luminous, iridescent blue. I’m warning you! Don’t come any closer or you’ll get the INK!

Vanishing Act
After deciding we weren’t a threat it settled down, it’s body turning into just another rock or coral protrusion, its arms perfectly melted into mottled sand. It was camouflaged so ingeniously that, had it not been moving earlier, I never would have suspected its presence. How do they DO that?

Invisible Man
Cephalopods, like octopus, cuttlefish and squid, have the extraordinary ability to become invisible. Their talent for color-changing and pattern-imitation is well-known. But such amazing adaptation expertise goes even further…they’ve actually got no kidding, shape-shifting skillz. Devoid of a shell or skeleton, these fine escape artists can squeeze their slippery bodies through tiny crevices, a handy technique for evading predators or surprising prey. Here’s an interesting video of one slipping through a hole in a boat (not our boat, just so we’re clear).  Most interesting though, is the ability to change skin texture, something no other species can accomplish.

Real Life Shape-Shifters
Picture that X-Men morphing maven, “Mystique”, suddenly ruffling her cobalt-blue skin cells into that of a grumpy old man. Similarly, beneath an octopus’ smooth, super-skin, mutating muscles allow incredible transformations in surface texture to match its surroundings. Straight out of a Sci-Fi movie. Fine wrinkles and craggy crinkles erupt into rough ridges and sharp spikes or melt into bitty bumps and thick lumps. Along with dead-on accurate color and pattern mimicry, the disguise is instantaneous. An octopus can suggest the swaying of sinuous seaweed, copy the crusty knobs of coral heads and replicate the granular ripple of the sandy sea floor. If only we humans could acquire their closely guarded secret; think of it - no more forehead wrinkles!

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Click the link below to witness rare & amazing footage of a shape-shifting rock turned octopus.
Video by marine biologist Roger Hanlon.

Under Pressure
It’s March 2nd and Indigo headed back north again on our way out of the hurricane zone. Already, you say? Well, yes, we didn’t go back to renew visas this year so we need to get out of dodge by the end of April. With the winds the way they’ve been (really windy from the north), we’d been a little (OK a lot) nervous about having enough time… time to be able inch Indigo farther north to San Carlos in between all these week-long northers… and, once we arrive, time to finish Brian’s thousand-item-checklist for putting the boat into dry storage. You wouldn’t think it would be soooo nerve-racking, having to be OUT by a certain date. But it is, and we feel the pressure already. So we cut our time short on the mainland in order to have lots of time to venture north. No one wants to feel rushed when cruising; makes for unhappy campers all the way around.

Leaving Mazatlan
While Mazatlan has a stunning shopping mall, multiple movie theaters, the best Mega(grocery store), a quaint historic district with interesting colonial architecture, and a miles-long Malecon on a beautiful beach… it also has oodles of people, tons of tourists, too many time-share salespeople and walking trinket-vendors up the wazoo.

Despite our initial reaction to the whole touristy feel of Mazatlan and feeling like we’d seen all there was to see within a matter of a couple weeks, we stayed to experience Carnaval. Fortunately for us, our tour guide friends on S/V Cuba Libre showed us around their adopted home and within a couple more weeks they helped us discover some really cool stuff: the artwalk, street hot dog vendors, amazing tacos al pastor, a spectacular bullfight, yummy gorditas, the shrimp ladies, the gringo theater, Cuban food, the carnival fireworks…all things we never would have experienced without their local knowledge.

Soon we got used to riding the crowded buses, going in the claustrophobic market and navigating the hectic downtown sidewalks where I came within 6” of getting clipped by a bus. We began to ignore the steady stream of “salespeople” who inevitably come right up to your dining table, even INSIDE some restaurants, hawking everything from bracelets to banana bread to foot massages (if I only had a dollar for every time I had to say “no gracias”). We learned the trick of fending off timeshare salespeople (tell them you live on a boat - this indicates you have no money) and shooed away the persistent yet terrible street musicians who shouldn’t be allowed to touch an instrument let alone sing.

So for us, it took a bit for Mazatlan to sink in; we like it now. We understand why soooo many Canadians and some Americans move to this city permanently: a myriad of cultural activities, great shopping, awesome food, perfect weather, beautiful beaches, low cost-of-living. Still… Would I fly my mother down here? Probably not. I just don’t think it’s up her alley. Some people absolutely love this place, but it’s not for everyone. Now that we’ve spent enough time here though, we feel comfortable getting around and could certainly play tour guide a thousand times better than when we’d first arrived.

Back to La Paz
While we will miss Mazatlan, we were eager to get back to nature… back to the peace of La Paz, the beautiful anchorages and the stunning waters of the Sea of Cortez. So on Wed, March 2nd we left Marina Mazatlan (we moved there to get the varnish completed) at 7am and headed back to La Paz. This time we had no buddy boat and were on our own for the 2 day passage. But somehow, it wasn’t quite so daunting the second time around.

 “YOU talkin’ to ME?”
A few miles outside the harbor entrance, we noticed a boat trailing behind us, but didn’t pay much attention. Then I heard a call over VHF, a little something like this: “Sailboat just out of Mazatlan Harbor headed to La Paz, this is Salish Sequel.” Normally, hearing a call like that always induces a quandary. Are they really talking to me?  You just never know. Well Watson, we HAD to be the one she was hailing. Why? We were literally the ONLY other sailboat out there!

You see, a person can stand at the Mazatlan harbor entrance and tell exactly where a boat is going to; there are only two choices. If you turn south, you’re going to La Cruz or PV, an overnight passage; if you go northwest you’re headed back to La Paz. There’s just nowhere else to go. (Ok, there is Topolobampo due north, but it’s much farther so most people don’t.) We ended up chatting a couple times over VHF radio with Salish Sequel, loosely buddy-boating by sheer proximity for the first day; we then lost them after dark.

No Wind, Perfect Wind, or Too Much Wind
Brian wants SOME wind for a crossing (a perfect 10kts, on a close reach – good luck with that), so we can sail most of the way and not use up diesel. Sure, tell me something that every sailor doesn’t want. But I’m a realist. For a 2-day crossing, I want NO wind so we can just motor and get it over with and so there is no risk of lumpy, seasickness-inducing-seas. Neither of us wants TOO MUCH wind. At this time of year (well most of the time) the winds come from the northwest. Guess which direction we had to go? Northwest. Bashing into strong winds, to put it crudely, sucks. So we time our crossing via Sailflow and other weather-prediction sites for 3-4 days of super benign weather…and cross fingers.

I WIN!
That first day, we were able to sail for 5 hours (Brian is ecstatic). We then motored for 24 hours straight (Me=Yay!; Brian=frowny face). Then sailed for 2, then motored the rest of the way. Yup. I WIN! Oh, the seas were beautiful - like glass! I overheard this conversation over VHF: “You got any wind over there?” “Nope, it’s like a skating rink out here.” Only a Canadian would use a skating rink analogy, but he was right…it was so smooth you could drop a pin and the water would ripple for miles. Motoring at night, through pitch dark for several hours before the moon rose, was pure peace.

Turtle Migration
The second day, we had our first turtle sighting! I had gotten a bit jealous that everyone else had witnessed turtles in the Sea; we had been here for a season and a half… still no turtles. Lo and behold, we got our fill of them this day. We must have seen 20 or more throughout the day, never more than one at a time, never too close to the boat (they’d duck under if our paths intersected too close). We could spot their dark shells as much as a half mile out, floating at the surface, infringing upon the baby blue monotony of our flat skating rink. Their green/black hard-hat shells stuck above the water several inches, their little feet swimming along back to La Paz. If it took us two days to get there, how long would it take them? Quite the journey. We spotted a seagull standing atop one, catching a free ride. Not sure why the turtle let him; he could have just ducked under and sent him flying away, but he didn’t. Maybe he just needed a friend.

Bonanza!
We landed at Playa Bonanza on Isla Ispiritu Santos 47 hours and 250 miles later. Just before sunrise, we anchored in this expansive bay in the dark. And who should arrive under the rising sun but Salish Sequel. They graciously invited us for delicious sangrias and snacks that evening to celebrate a good crossing.

For two days, we rested in the perfect white sand arms of Bonanza, and then made the final, easy leg to La Paz. We docked at Marina Palmira for one week, just enough time to grocery shop, do taxes (blah), finish my incredibly long bullfight blog (it took 4 hours sitting in the lounge just to upload the video – man, I miss El Cid internet) and do some boatwork (Brian climbed the mast 5 times in one day to polish all the mast steps and clean the rigging – what a feat!).

Heading North Once Again
On March 13th we began our 2nd northern trek to San Carlos. This signifies the beginning of the end of our second season in the Sea…hard to believe!

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.