One day while walking the beach, I saw something wiggling in the sand up ahead. Approaching, I found a dying balloonfish heaving its last breath. What are YOU doing here? Aren’t you a little out of your element?

He was puking out a fluorescent green sludge that looked like something from a nuclear plant explosion. I wondered how he could have gotten so far from the water. A seagull must have plucked him out of the sea and either accidentally dropped him, or decided those spines weren’t worth the effort.

Lying there, stranded and helpless, he was on his last fin. So Brian decided to attempt a rescue. Unwilling to risk a spine in the foot, he began pushing him with a water bottle towards salvation, rolling him over and over.

By the time he got him to the water, “Wally” was covered in a thick coating of shells and sand. Ouch. Wally looked like we’d rolled him in flour, prepping him for stir fry. At this point we’d turned him so many times, we weren’t sure he could even move.

But after a final flick into the Sea, the sand washed away and Wally woke up. Disoriented at first, it took him a few seconds to recover. But then, miraculously, he swam away!!! It was only after I looked at the video that I noticed a seagull waiting just offshore. And Wally was headed right for him! Nooooo!!
 
Fun Balloonfish Facts:

• The Balloonfish is the most common type of Porcupinefish in the Sea of Cortez. They are also called Spiny Porcupinefish or Spiny Puffer.
• Latin name: Diodon Holocathus. Spanish name (local Mexican term): Botete.
• Balloonfish belong to the larger family of Pufferfish in which there are over 120 types, including spiny and non-spiny, all with the ability to inflate. Many pufferfish are extremely toxic.
• Balloonfish can inflate their bodies by in-taking water into their stomach, forming a spherical shape. This blow-up fish doubles or triples their normal size, thereby scaring away some predators, not to mention making themselves harder to eat. Ouch.
• Their spines are a form of scale, normally lying flat against their bodies while swimming. But when agitated, they protrude like a thorny cactus. Wally was quite agitated. Don’t step on one.
• Balloonfish prefer mainly hermit crabs for dinner.
• These fish are not fit for human consumption; they contain a neurotoxin. But sharks, wahoo and dorado apparently are immune.
• Balloonfish swim rather sluggishly. They are also just too darn cute!​

Not every day is sunsets and cocktails. Sometimes it’s sunsets and sprains…requiring cocktails.

The Highs and Lows of Cruising
One day we were on top of the world at the peak of Mount Coronado. Two days later, Brian woke up with severe knee pain. He had felt fine during the hike and the day after, albeit sore like the rest of us. But after two days, his knee hurt so badly he couldn’t walk. I know when he’s asking for more than a single ibuprofen, something is wrong.

Sprained Knee?
His tendon, strung drum-tight, refused to relax. Bending his knee was impossible, as was bearing weight. Climbing normal stairs with one rigid leg is not easy. Climbing up and down Indigo’s nearly vertical companionway steps, something we normally do countless times a day, became excruciating. And try scrunching into an elevated and cramped V-Berth with one straight leg. And a straight face.

Beware: Mt. Coronado Causes Weak Knees
We don’t know how it happened; suddenly he woke up and his knee was killing him. NOOO, I didn’t kick him while he was peacefully slumbering. He loves to tell people that. But, it WAS my fault. Remember my last post Conquering Mt. Coronado? That strenuous hike just 2 days prior probably severely weakened his knees, enough so that he tweaked one just so while sleeping. I wanted to climb that stupid Mt. Coronado so bad…and Brian paid for it.

Useless Med Kit
We have pain medicines up the yin yang, heat/cool patches, splints and wraps and bandages galore. Wrapping it only put more pressure on the affected area and made the pain unbearable. Patches didn’t help. I have decent pain meds on board but he refused everything but the low grade stuff. All this med gear and there’s nothing we could do except wait and see. In the end, he kept it cushioned and immobile on a pillow, icing it with frozen water bottles. Talk about low tech healthcare.

7 Days a Boat Prisoner
We were hoping it was just a little sprain, that it would go away in a day or so. But Brian remained a prisoner on the boat for the next several days. In the morning, he’d limp up the stairs and rest outside in the cockpit; at dusk, he’d make the agonizing descent back into the cabin. I think he went through a book a day. Whenever he tired of reading, he alternated between high-tech ipad games or no-tech birdwatching. Fortunately, the weather remained ideal (in the cool 80’s, no hurricanes on the horizon) and we weren’t under any travel deadline pressure.

No Doctors in the Desert
For those seven endless days, we worried… OK, I worried…not knowing how long it would take to heal… or if it would at all. After 20 years of mandatory Marine runs, knee surgery has been a predicted consequence, but one we wished to avoid as long as possible. I hoped this injury didn’t put him over the edge. If it didn’t get any better soon, we would have to go see someone. But we’re anchored in the remote bay of San Juanico, far from civilization. It’s a minimum ½ day sail back to Loreto or a 24hr overnight to San Carlos. We realized just how far away we were from healthcare…any healthcare. It felt like we were on the moon.

50% and Still Trapped
After day 4, his knee felt a little bit better. We managed to motor Indigo up to Bahia Concepcion but we still didn’t leave the boat upon anchoring each afternoon. We didn’t want to risk ruining it again. We could certainly throw the kayak overboard in a jiffy (which is why we use it 90% of the time). But he could easily re-twist the knee grappling in or out of the snug, bobbing, slippery vessel. What about the dinghy? Way worse.

Avoiding Dinghy-Yoga
Prepping the dinghy involves the two of us flipping it upright from its cruising turtle-position on the bow, hoisting and pushing it overboard, then mounting the unwieldy outboard motor. (One person stands at the stern rail, lowering it with our manual pulley system; the other stands in the dinghy below, catching and affixing it to the transom). This 10-15 minute workout consists of heaving and manhandling the substantial, slimy beast, stepping up and down from the cabin roof numerous times, plus copious amounts of twisting and turning, bending and balancing. And you wonder how we get our exercise on the boat? I could just imagine the strain this torsion-filled process would put on a bum knee. No way. Amazingly, raising anchor, motoring, even sailing Indigo is far easier on the knees than depositing our car in the water.

Freedom!
Seven days later, Brian finally felt stable enough to tackle the car. We left it in-water, towing it behind Indigo from anchorage to anchorage. Normally, dinghy towing is one of our big no-no’s. Yes, I know, lots of people do it. We don’t. While it’s incredibly convenient to have your dinghy ready to go upon arrival, too many things can go wrong. But Bahia Concepcion was flat as a pancake and we only traveled, literally, a couple miles each day. Occasionally, rules should be thrown out the window. For knees sake.

Boatwork with a Bum Knee
We did another week’s worth of uber-relaxed gunk-holing and crossed the Sea of Cortez overnight, once his knee felt a bit better. We put the boat away over the course of 12 days of hard work. It wasn’t easy on him, but we did it. One month later, the knee works, but it's still not 100%.  

Medical Preparedness
How prepared are we? We are equipped for medical complications in the outback with a variety of meds for colds, pain, nausea, antibiotics, etc. Heck, we even have malaria pills. We have a suitcase-sized professional medical kit for treating mild to severe burns and wounds. We even have gear for splinting a broken bone and sewing stitches. (Let’s just hope Brian doesn’t need stitches – knowing my sewing skills, THAT would be a catastrophe). But with all this stuff, we could use none of it in his situation. What is the moral here?

Cruising Law #1:
As Captain Ron so casually counsels: “If anything’s gonna happen, it’s gonna happen out there!”

Cruising Law # 2:
When it does happen, all that special equipment you purchased will doubtless be inadequate.
Do you still buy the stuff? Yep. You or someone else might need it someday!​

Isla Coronado is one of five islands that comprise the Loreto Bay Marine Park, a UNESCO World Heritage site. Its western shore boasts a pristine, white sand beach, swathed in emerald green waters punctuated by severe black, lava reefs. A couple of groomed trails meander across the island. One traverses the long, low sand spit to a private beach. The other goes up…and up… and up… all the way to the top of an ancient volcano.

Hell, NO
Coronado’s volcanic cone is one of those landmark peaks that just calls to you. OK to me, not Brian. “Hike me!” “Come on - the view is priceless!” While the island trail sign indicates a 650ft height, online sources differ widely on the peak’s actual height: 928ft, 1554ft 1444ft, 600ft. I’m thinking the 900ft is the most accurate. However high this thing really is, it’s high. Every year we’d anchor here on the way down the Sea and again on the way back up. Each time I’d cheerfully suggest, “Hey, let’s hike to the top!” Each time, I’d be rebuked with not just “No”, but a resounding “Hell, NO!!!”

The Perfect Excuse
Today, our snorkeling plans got nixed due to chilly water and air temps. So our friends on Lorelei asked if we wanted to go with them to the top of the mountain instead. I looked at Brian and KNEW I had my perfect excuse… my Brian-approved (albeit grudgingly), Mt. Coronado Hike Authorization Card… one-time-use-only. After three seasons in the Sea of Cortez, we were finally going to summit this monster mountain.

4-Hour Tour
Our cruising guidebook indicates this trail to the top is “perfect for those wishing to stretch their legs and work up a sweat before swimming”. THAT is the understatement of the year. The sign on the beach states it is a mere 1hr 45 minute hike. Not true. That doesn’t count getting back down.

Tequila-Drinking Trail-Maker
Starting out, the flat trail is perfectly groomed, outlined with large, human-placed, coral pieces. Threading its way through the sugar sand among cactus and succulents, we decided Tito the Trail-maker had a bit too much tequila when laying this route. It winds away from the summit more times than towards. No wonder this takes 4 hours!

Lava Rock Fields
After about 20 minutes, the relaxing path abruptly ends and the trail rises steeply. This is where the fun begins. Massive fields of lava rock, sharp grey and red chunks of basalt, flow down the volcano sides like a prehistoric river. Such wide swaths of rust-tinted rocks made the “trail” indistinct, requiring man-made cairns to keep hikers on track.

Football-sized shards lie precariously atop one another; hundreds of thousands of them form this tumbled rock bed, piled who knows how deep. While settled after millennia, slight gaps and crevices remain. Everywhere. Each rock is sneakily poised to shift into empty space as soon as a hiker bears down weight. Careful foot placement is imperative. Similar to maneuvering Mexico sidewalks, one must maintain eyes on the ground at all times unless completely motionless. I failed at this once and gazed up mid-step, my weight too far forward before I could choose a good foot spot. I nearly toppled. I give myself a 9 for my flailing-arm-windmills performance.

Sno-Cones, Anyone?
After about an hour of picking our way along, we came upon another group of cruiser-hikers, just down from the summit. How far? “Oh, another few miles. But, they’re selling sno-cones at the restaurant at the top.” Ah, funny man.

Straight Up
Gradually, the ankle-biting rocks began to disappear, replaced with hard packed dirt, then gravel. This would be good news, except the trail led straight up. The angle of attack up that last 20 minute section of mountain had to have been 50 degrees. Our friends turned around and headed back down the mountain when pea-sized obnoxious nuggets (in copious amounts) entered our shoes and refused to leave.

I nearly bailed out myself after 5 minutes of this maddening ascent. Upon scrambling several feet up the bluff, and backsliding at each step, we’d shake out our gravel-filled shoes. Scramble, scramble, scramble…shake. Every step sustained this miserable loofah scrub. My soles have never been so smooth.

Marathon Climb
But eventually, we quit bothering to shake…stopping only to pull out a particularly intolerable shard. The quicker we get up there the better. Endure the pain. My heart pounded like a jackhammer; besieged with painful pebbles, every stride elicited an unintelligible grunt; my stair-climbing knees ached, shaking like sapling trees.

Why didn’t we stop? Because I know, that Brian knows, that I know, I would never be satisfied unless we got to the top. I had my one-time-use Mt. Coronado Hike Authorization Card, remember? After today, no more bets. So this is a marathon I was going to finish. No matter what.

Made It!
Finally, solid rock footholds appeared. The trail leveled out near the peak. My heart stopped hammering. Ahead of me, Brian called out, “Crap, it looks like another ½ mile.” What???!!! “Just kidding. We’re here!”  

Whew. We made it! 1 hour and 40 minutes later we were guzzling water at the summit, enjoying the view. Outstanding.

Satellite View
Only from the top of the island do you get any sense of its Google-sat-view. Gazing down from our bird’s-eye perch, the sky and the earth and the sea and the sand blend together in an artist’s palette of vibrant colors, swirling, shading, intensifying, fading. Indigo waters as far as you can see, shallow up to emerald, then turquoise, then brightens into brilliantly creamy sand; charcoal reefs appear as soft, mushy blobs leaking out into the sea like inkblots; our treacherous, rock-laden streambed becomes a trail of tiny cinnamon chunks from up here; tufts of blond field grass and patches of vibrant green succulent ground cover dot the landscape; the distant Gigantas mountains are a long, undulating, gray smear in the distance; white clouds streak in unison across a never-ending cornflower sky. Magical.

Getting Back Down
But, like those who scale Mt. Everest, you can’t stay long. Gotta get back down. And that can be the hardest part. Skidding down the gravel incline was faster and easier. But traversing the rock fields was a tedious balancing act. Already exhausted, we were more likely to mis-step onto a wobbly rock now than at any point. Several times, I almost lost my footing due to lack of concentration, performing those arm windmills again. But we made it back down in one piece…no broken ankles. But oh, how we ached from head to toe!
​
Am I glad we did it? Yes. Wanna go again? Hell, NO!​

While resting in Puerto Escondido near the end of May, our brains begin the inevitable tack: from a cruising mindset to a storing mindset. At the Circle of Knowledge, the daily, informal cruiser gathering, June haul out plans are the topic du jour. Our own haul out date is coming up quickly. So Brian’s mind starts to whirl, contemplating the myriad of things we will need to do to prep Indigo for storage, a daunting task. MY mind begins to contemplate the food situation, and getting rid of it. Thus, a list is born.

Yes, I have a Food Spreadsheet
Rummaging through my food lockers, I tear into my 10-sheet, Food-On-Board excel spreadsheet, updating every carton, can and container still taking up shelf space. Then I start making lists of what I could make for dinner that will use up said noodles, rice, beans, canned chicken, etc. Then I make ANOTHER list of what we will have for dinner for the next week. I like lists. Almost as much as I like cheese.

May Thanksgiving
So I was super excited when our friends on Cuba Libre happened to invite us and Lorelei over for a Thanksgiving in May celebration with mutual friends on Bella Luna. Cuba Libre had a frozen turkey they needed to cook up before they hauled out. So their turkey problem became my food-inventory purging solution. Sweet. I made a huge coleslaw salad to get rid of some cabbage and baked brownies to use up some eggs. The result was a delicious Thanksgiving May Day enjoyed by all, complete with turkey and mashed potatoes and stuffing. Thanks to Cuba Libre for hosting and cooking!

Haulout Potluck
A couple weeks later, three of us boats arrived into Marina San Carlos. We planned on hauling our boats onto dry land within days of each other. This means removing all food. So we held another Food-Purge-Potluck. This time, I made canned pear oatmeal crisp and tuna noodle casserole with about 5 different cheeses. (More like cheese casserole with a smidgen of macaroni and a trace of tuna.) I still had to give away two chunks ‘o cheese at the end. So I put together a box to haul back to the van for our camping trips; I gave 3 small bags away to a couple local dock guys; and I carried two large sacks to San Carlos Yachts who, in turn, donates it to the local orphanage. What a great way to jettison food.

Salami Anyone?
As I was defrosting the fridge, I found two packets of sliced salami that I forgot about. I walked over to a boat I’d never met and dangled my expensive and coveted salami packets right in front of these strangers. “Would you guys like…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence before their eyes widened and enthusiastically replied...
“Yes! Yes! We’ll take them! We’re Polish! Of course we love salami!”

Stingray Shuffle
The Stingray Shuffle is a dance performed by beach-going visitors each year. Here in the Sea of Cortez, every public beach posts signs warning waders to shuffle their feet in shallow water. Stingrays hide from predators by burrowing flush with the sea floor, nearly invisible to us unsuspecting humans. So this sand-agitating, Mr.-Robot -shuffle-step signals the slithery specters to move… hopefully before you step down on one, resulting in a toxic spike jammed in your foot.

But I always thought those billboard notices were a tad overrated. As much as we have been in and around the water, our stingray sightings seemed pretty sporadic. We typically observe them either from the boat or snorkeling in 10-15ft depths, gliding over the sand or just resting on the bottom, one at a time, maybe two. Always comfortably distant… no close encounters… and too fast for film. But this year, I’ve seen more in two weeks than the nearly three seasons we’ve spent in Mexico combined. I’m beginning to think May is Stingray Month.

Agua Verde Video – Sneaky Stingrays
Agua Verde beckons cruisers with its clear, turquoise green water so vibrant it seems fake, like someone dumped in a barrel of Easter egg dye. We anchored at a depth of only 10ft in the east lobe where the sea floor was clearly visible. Peering down into our private fishbowl, we spotted a couple stingrays right away, skimming the white sandy bottom. Later, while swimming around a large rocky outcropping, I saw a couple more, 20ft below. I held my breath, dove down 6ft and tried GoPro stalking. This attempt was futile though – they wisely fled, bolting away like a Stinger missile.

Then, as I was filming a tiny, blue damselfish, another surprised me from behind, gliding by nonchalantly about two feet away. Holy schmeel schmazel. He just about scared my shorty wetsuit right off me. But I actually got that one on video - only by accident. After I gathered my wits, I GoPro stalked that one, successfully this time. Remarkably, this stingray was pretty chill about the whole stalking thing. And I will name him Marky Mark… for being so calm and composed while I dashed after him like paparazzi.

Watching any kind of ray swim is just cool, be they giant manta rays, mobula/eagle rays or stingrays. It is somehow satisfying to witness their wings leisurely undulate, propelling their pancake physique so gracefully. Like swooping underwater butterflies. Only bigger. And with stingers. Don’t forget the stingers…

RayNado
As that sneaky stingray passed me initially, I could have reached out and touched him. But that would have been a bad idea. These are not slimy aquarium kittens with removed stingers to allow petting. These are real stingrays with real barbs, serrated knives essentially, that if shoved into your body really hurt. In fact, as I was in hot pursuit, I thought to myself…self…what are you doing? What if he decides he doesn’t appreciate your quest for good video? And turns around? And calls over some friends? I can picture the movie trailer now: “Stingraynado – The Baja Menace”. Or not. “Raynado”? I’ll work on that one.

 So…yah, I slowed down and let Marky flutter away, while he was still in a jolly mood.

Candeleros takes the Cake
Bahia Candeleros is a shallow crescent bay whose crowning glory is the resort oasis of Villa del Palmar. Best known (at least according to us) for their expensive but delicious hamburgers, we travel-weary cruisers could think of nothing else for two days prior. Priorities, people. Stomachs satisfied, snorkeling was priority #2.

I’ve swum the eastern shore here before with not a single ray sighting. But this time we shooed several away in a foot of water just scooting the dinghy onto shore. What the heck?! While prepping our gear, the four of us marveled at several more visible in the clear water. I have never seen a stingray from shore, hanging out 2ft from the water’s edge, noticeably unafraid of our presence… let alone multiples at once.

Mmmmmm. While interesting to observe, I like seeing stingrays by the onesie’s or twosie’s. Not the 10-sies or 20-sies. Not when they might be burrowed in the sand at every footstep. And not when they refuse to scoot away from my shadow. I’m just weird like that.

Fin Flop
Do I really want to go swimming with all these guys? Especially in these initial 2 ft depths. I mean, it’s one thing to get your foot stung (I haven’t yet, fortunately). It’s quite another to put your whole body up for grabs (ala Steve Irwin who was fatally stung in the heart.)

Well, we’re here, let’s do this. Instead of waiting to don my fins in the water though, I put them on at the beach. Better to have that extra 1ft of spacing between me and them, eh? I looked memorably moronic, duck-walking and flopping with my large yellow flippers. My intended crazed commotion (albeit awkward) would have scared away a shark. Or, more likely, attracted one. Hoping I was in the clear, I face-planted into the 2ft pool.

Everywhere I looked, there they were. Crikey.

What IS this place? A stingray incubation facility? Wow. There’s one over there. And another over there. And three down there and two more on the rocks… and on and on. We probably saw 20-30 just in this one small area. Brian and I usually point out interesting things to each other as we are swimming, but with stingrays hovering all around, we felt no need. Until…

Strangely Still Stingrays
Brian called out to me to “come over here”...which sounds a lot like “mmm orrrre earrr” under water. I sashay over to where he is staring at something. Two somethings. One on top of the other, but the bottom one is upside down. OMG. Is THAT what I THINK it is? Yes. Yes indeedy-do. Apparently I was right… this IS a stingray incubation facility.

Leave it to us to stumble upon yet another species, well, uh, having fun. (We came across mating frogs, butterflies and walking sticks last year.) Man, I wish I’d brought the GoPro instead of the camera. Eyeballing me with suspicion as I zoomed in for the shot, the intimate couple was none too thrilled with me invading their private time. Well, you’re doing it here right out in the open, so what do you expect?

“OK…work it… come on, at least pretend you’re having fun…no? OK then…just… say cheese!” Click, click, click.

And here are my up close and personal stingray porn stills. You’re welcome.
 
Fun Stingray Facts:

• A group of stingrays is called a fever.
• I’ve since learned the month of May IS stingray month. Apparently, they are quite prolific in late spring.
• The three chief species in the Sea of Cortez are Reef, Round or Cortez Stingrays. These types don’t get much bigger than a foot wide and their toxic barbs are not fatally poisonous.
• Peeing on it is NOT the proper treatment for a stingray wound. (Although it can work for jellyfish stings, as would any other mild acid like vinegar.)
• Soaking the affected area in hot water, reportedly over 110degrees, breaks down the toxins faster. The biggest risk is infection, so being several hours away from a doctor in the middle of nowhere is reason enough to be cautious.

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Stone Scorpionfish
Have you ever wondered: “What’s the ugliest fish in the world?” Well, look no further. Scroll through my gallery to the very end. There you will find what I believe is a Stone Scorpionfish. Unlike an octopus who can transmute himself into the shape of a coral outcropping or rock, a Stone Scorpionfish already looks like one. The fish I found was resting in white sand next to a rock. But this “rock” just looked odd. I wasn’t sure of what I was seeing at first since he was frozen in place… waiting for dinner to glide by, I presume. Not only are they butt-ugly, they too, sport highly toxic spines. If stepped on, the wounds are similar to getting zapped by a stingray. Except worse. An infection can be deadly. With stingrays and scorpionfish and porcupinefish and sea urchins – why is everything in the Sea trying to stab me?

We are happily anchored at Ensenada Grande, the first stop on our 6-week trip up to San Carlos from La Paz. As I lounge below on my sea berth, a tall mast looms visible through the companionway. Yikes! I know the boat is close if I can see him through that narrow slot. I launch up on deck, but Brian is already intently watching. This boat drops anchor right between us and another boat. Ugh. He’s pretty darn close, but not disturbingly so. We watch and wait.

10 minutes later, we overhear a VHF radio call in heavily-Spanish-accented English.
“Boat with the French flag… this is Valencia… you have anchored too close.” (Boat names changed to protect the innocent.)
Crickets…

Again. “Boat with the French flag… this is Valencia… you have anchored too close.”
Silence.

Again, with a bit more emphasis.
Silence.

The oblivious yacht is a 40ft Beneteau sailboat, so we’ll call him Mr. Beneteau. We cannot see his boat name and apparently neither can Valencia. It’s on his stern, probably in foolish flowery font – why owners don’t make their boat names clearly visible is beyond me.

The Audacious Mr. Beneteau
The French boat had anchored too close for Valencia’s comfort. Except Mr. Beneteau’s VHF radio was off so Valencia could not relay his analysis on the matter. While one Valencia crewmember kept trying to hail them over the radio, the other crewmember stood on the bow, waving arms, shouting in vain through the wailing 20kt wind. You’d be surprised how little sound carries in 20 knots of wind. If you prefer not to shout, or it’s too windy to do so, a good way to get someone’s attention is just stand on the bow, arms akimbo and glower at the offending boat. Pointing helps. Eventually they will notice. And they did.

So finally I hear heavily-French-accented English, coming from a very weak radio signal, hailing Valencia. But now Valencia is not hearing them. Wow. This just gets better and better. Grammy-winning evening entertainment!

Eavesdropping
After several unanswered return calls from Mr. Beneteau, Valencia responds and they switch from a hailing channel to a talking channel. Of course we switch too, duh. #1, we want to listen in on this highly entertaining shit show, and #2, we have a stake in this conversation. It might be our shit show when the wind switches. Don’t judge. Everybody does it.

Valencia (flustered woman):“You have anchored too close to our boat.”

Mr. Beneteau (a meek, high-pitched, squeaky woman): “Oh, no, no…it’s OK.”

Valencia (now obviously irritated): “You are right on top of our anchor.”

Mr. Beneteau: Crickets…

“It’s OK” means “I don’t care”
Brian and I look at each other, jaws dropped. OMG. Did she just say “It’s OK”? Seriously, that’s not the right answer. But it’s always the answer. Our first year in La Paz, I described our dealings with another cruiser saying that exact same thing to us in this exact same anchorage about the exact same issue. We both start laughing at the irony.

Did they move? Nope.
We waited and watched, doing a mild bit of staring-down of our own. See, we’d prefer they move too. But they remain consciously obtuse - irreverent towards the safety-comfort-level of their neighbors. While pretty close, we feel Mr. Beneteau is a tolerable distance, so we opt to stay put. But Valencia, the boat so offended as to call Mr. Beneteau out on his proximity, does not move either. Either they decided they weren’t in dire straits, or they were just too lazy to get up and move.

Anchoring Etiquette: Don’t be a Dingo
In general, anchoring etiquette is simple: if you as the anchored boat think the incoming boat parked too close (and announces so), it is on the incoming guy to move; but if they refuse, and you remain, and an accident ensues… who do you think your insurance company will hold responsible for your boat damages? If you are uncomfortable with the situation enough to voice your opinion… and the other boat is a dingo and refuses… a healthy fear for the safety of your boat should prompt your departure, regardless of ego or convenience.

Fast forward several days later and we are anchored in San Evaristo, pondering this identical predicament…

San Evaristo Cluster-Fun.
A very large, very old, very ugly powerboat/barge contraption chugged its way into the snug harbor. I picture a 70ft, two-tiered version of the grimy, barnacle-encrusted “African Queen” (from the Katherine Hepburn movie of same name). It really didn’t look like that at all, but the offensive boat became personified as such in my mind as soon as he plopped his anchor down… right on top of us.

Now, when I say right on top, I mean it. This is not Valencia vs. Mr. Beneteau spacing, both with decent enough distance to remain in place all night. This was downright painful, body-hugging, spandex tight.

Radar Blob Monster
Intimidated by his size and proximity, I actually turned on the radar to confirm our suspicions about their distance. Our buddy-boat, Lorelei, was about 200ft to our left – a close but respectable distance for a friend-boat who you are comfortable yelling at if all hell breaks loose. But The African Queen’s massive radar blob was glowing like the sun, merely 100ft away. Damn…my eyes! Are you kidding? We have nearly that length of anchor chain out! This guy WILL whack us when we inevitably swing around to the west at night.

Now highly agitated, we glowered. We scowled. We gave our best disgusted glare. We waited for him to realize the error of his ways; sometimes they do and re-anchor. But African Queen appeared perfectly content attached to our hip.

So we opted to move, sans confrontation. We could already predict the answer anyway: “No really, It’s OK!” The African Queen was so big, and so NOT-maintained we did not relish them picking up and re-anchoring anywhere nearby. Would you want to park your still-in-good-shape 1990’s BMW next to a rusted-out, 1960’s Suburban tank? No. The screaming baby-on-board was the deal breaker. We’re out! We picked up anchor (ending up nose-to-nose within 20ft of their bow) and waved as we drove out the bay. Thanks, Dingo.

North Shore Sanctuary
Moving around to the north shore of San Evaristo, we safely ensconced ourselves in the wide bay, devoid of dingos. Only one other boat was parked…waaaay over there. Sigh. Peace.

Just as it was getting dark, our buddy boat, Lorelei, motors around the corner. What are you guys doing here? Well, they had their own anchoring saga to relay. Apparently, San Evaristo was THE place NOT to be tonight. Too bad we’d turned our radio off and missed THIS evening radio show…

Beware the Charter Catamarans
After we left, 4 charter catamarans traveling together like a pack of wild dingos tried to squeeze their wide-load rear ends in the already limited front row space. Two attempted to side-tie (tie together side-by-side with only fenders between and one boat’s anchor down) in between the now 300 feet between Lorelei and African Queen. Two 15ft boats swinging on one anchor in such close proximity to the others could have been catastrophic. Especially since oblivious charter cats habitually put down like 30 feet of scope, kind of like anchoring 20 tons with a fish hook.

Herding Cats
These catamarans were first warned by two boats that this was not a good idea, there’s not enough swing room for their double mass. In return, what did their dingo leader say? Everybody now… “No, no, It’s OK!” To which both cruisers shouted “NO, it’s NOT OK!” Herding cats is impossible.

Finally, after several other anchored boats expressed their extreme vocal displeasure, the cats reluctantly gave up the side-tying but continued their squeeze. With the obnoxious group boxing them in on both sides and still a bit too close for comfort, Lorelei grudgingly gave up and relocated to our neck of the woods. Sometimes you just can’t win these battles. I am regretful that our friend had to move out of these dingos’ way…but African Queen had it coming!

A Final Dressing-Down
Coincidently, as I began to edit this blog, I heard a one-sided radio conversation on this very topic. I recognize this particular woman’s teacher-like voice from the local radio net. Anchored in Isla Coronado, she incredulously and vehemently pronounces the following to someone whose response I can’t hear:

“Well I have no idea why in this big bay you picked that spot? We have a very heavy boat, we don’t swing the same way and we will be pointed west tonight so you will be right on top of our anchor once the wind switches.”

Ouch. I’m pretty sure that dingo moved.

#1 Beach in Mexico!
Balandra Beach is a must-do when visiting La Paz. We’d taunted our SoCal friends so much with photos of blue bays and beautiful beaches that they finally decided to come see for themselves. So we took them to Balandra, considered by some as one of the most spectacular in the world. Last year, it was rated the number one beach in all of Mexico by USA Today’s readers. Check out touropia.com for an amazing aerial shot. While I disagree with the #1 status, simply because we've been to several spectacular, more remote beaches, it's definitely in my top ten! 

The Perfect Beach
If you are looking for sapphire blue waters and white sand beaches, you’ve come to the right place. Crystal clear, the shallow water extends out hundreds of feet into the bay, perfect for kiddies, kayaking & paddleboarding. Snorkeling opportunities are limitless - just search for some underwater rocks and you’ll find fishies (mostly small ones since it’s very shallow). A hard-packed, sandy sea floor makes for easy strolling to explore the various caletas (little coves). And, well, if beaches aren’t your thing, you can always indulge in photography: dark brown/black volcanic outcroppings contrast with creamy sand, while rippling turquoise water meets a stark azure sky. Ahhh.

Mushroom Rock
Balandra’s main attraction is “El Hongo” or “Mushroom Rock”, a natural rock formation that sort of looks like a mushroom. Maybe “fungus” ball growing on a stick is more accurate. (Hongo can mean either.) Despite the unusual shape, it’s still a pretty amazing natural wonder. It’s mushroomy stem has eroded over the years to a teensy foot. But don’t look too closely - it’s been shoddily shored up with concrete and rebar to keep the precariously perched blob from toppling. So treasured by the townspeople, El Hongo has become an icon symbolizing La Paz. There is even a replica statue of it in the town square. A visit to the real El Hongo is a must, but you may get wet depending on the tide.

In the Boonies
Balandra is just 20 miles from La Paz close to the end of a windy, nearly uninhabited, dead-end road. Beware: there are no “facilities” at Balandra. But there is no parking fee either. Usually, kayaks are available for rent. There may or may not be a food truck selling snacks and beer. Eight of us hopped in a taxi-van and had our driver wait while we explored for a couple hours. There is also bus service from downtown La Paz. Got your own car? Once finished with Balandra, keep driving to the end of the road & have lunch at the restaurant on Tecolote Beach.

Secluded Paradise
Balandra Beach is far off the beaten track so if you are looking for Cancun-type hordes, you will be disappointed. Its allure is its seclusion. Go on a weekday to beat the “crowds”, meaning 10’s of people. Go early to stake out one of the palapas for shade. But don’t miss this beach!

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!​

In my opinion, THE number one thing to do in La Paz is to swim with the whale sharks. We did so with our friends on Lorelei back in 2014, arranging a tour through Marlin Adventures. It was approx. $50pp. A little steep but the boat ride was comfortable, the guide knowledgeable and he spoke English. I recommend this place. You get what you pay for. Seriously. Let me ‘splain.

I Know a Guy Who Knows a Guy
When our SoCal friends arrived last week, this was on the must-do list. But because we had already spent mucho dinero on an all-day sea lion tour, I was striving for cheaper thrills. Our friends had the number of a boat captain who charged $30pp just a couple months ago. Perfect. We call Salvador. But he doesn’t do that job anymore. Call Hector, he’ll do it. We call Hector. Hector says yes… 600pesos per person ($30), 700 with wetsuits/gear, 5 people. Meet in front of Burger King at 1pm Sunday. Perfect.

Where’s Hector?
Sunday arrives. We pile out of the shuttle and aim for the Malecon. This area of the boardwalk is rife with panga dudes hanging out near their boats soliciting passersby..."You want whale shark tour?"

​So is it any wonder my bright yellow fins are like a beacon to them screaming “snorkel tourist”, 'cause that’s the only reason anyone would be carrying fins to the Malecon. It’s only 12:25pm, we are super early. A man sees me, waves us over and acts like he is expecting us. I call out “Hector?” and he confirms yes. As we start talking though, it is painfully obvious he is NOT Hector but he claims to be in charge of operating the boat for Hector. We are immediately suspicious. Where is Hector?

Hector is in Guadalajara
“Oh, Hector is in Guadalajara at a party and cannot make it, but we are captaining the boat for him today.” Bizzare. Stuck in Cabo would have been more plausible. Maybe Hector got a bit schnockered last night and handed his business off last-minute. But Guadalajara? That would require an airplane ride. So why didn’t he mention he was in Guadalajara two days ago? Then again, why would he tell us? On top of this, the fee is cheaper… 500 pesos pp. Not arguing that, but some of us need wetsuits. They did not seem to be expecting this. OK, 600 with wetsuits. Hmmm.

Whale Shark Hustle?
We asked this dude to call Hector to confirm. Fortunately, our friend Luis speaks Spanish and talked to “Hector”. Luis could not recognize if it was the same voice, but when asked, “fake Hector” could not remember Luis’ name or the number of people he booked. He said 6, we said 5. Hmmm. I tried calling Hector’s original number on my phone, but no answer.

We mutter amongst ourselves wondering if they are scamming Hectors' business but since I cannot confirm via phone, and since they take us across the street to an office to get wetsuits, we decide it has to be semi-legit. I mean, at least there is an office, albeit a grungy one. But do we wait another half hour to see if Hector shows up or leave with these guys? Well, we’re here. It’s 100 pesos cheaper. We suit up.

Dodgeball
Since we feel it’s a conceivable coup, we feel the need to do our own little bit of dodgeball. We tell them Hector included drop off at Marina Costa Baja in the price. He didn’t - we were going to offer him a couple hundred pesos to do this, the cost of a taxi. “What? Hector didn’t tell us that. We can’t go into the marina, they won’t allow it.” We insisted to just drop us off at the beach. After hemming and hawing for a minute they decide this is OK and we have a deal.

Slow Ride
The boat is big enough for our group of 5, plus a driver and a spotter, but any more would have been over-crowded. The ride is a wet one, the boat not big or fast enough to repel the sizeable and constant spray generated. The ladder is rickety and very difficult to get on board. The wetsuits are all male and…well, not exactly form-fitting. (I’m glad I brought my own.) We take a seemingly inordinate time to get out to the sharks – they were waaaay out in the bay. Initially, we could not see any other tour boats nearby. Last time there were pangas everywhere. Did we miss the season? Are there any whales out here? Do these guys even know where they are? Are we going to be robbed and dumped overboard?

1st Jump
There’s one! Finally. We all point to the single giant cruising around our boat. The captain races to catch up with it, the guide jumps in and swims for it. Either he is holding onto the shark by its dorsal fin (not cool) or this young whippersnapper can swim like Michael Phelps. I honestly couldn’t tell how he was keeping up. We are all just concentrating on when to jump in the water as soon as he signals the OK. This first shark is on a mission though. Swimming perpendicularly at him, I didn’t even get close; he was cruising so fast I think only 1 person out of 5 actually saw it underwater. We got back in the boat discouraged: “Wow, this is IT? Is that all there is going to be? This sucks.”

2nd Jump
After several minutes of cruising around we finally see multiple sharks! The 2nd jump was the perfect combination of “Wow” and “Whew!” Yes…validation! See, I told you it was cool! Everyone got to experience several sharks up close and personal. This group moved slow and fed lazily, just meandering back and forth. Sunlight filtered through the water at a perfect angle; the water was much clearer than even where we were 5 minutes ago. Great viewing. Our guests were sufficiently impressed. Whew. They’re happy; I’m happy.

3rd time’s the charm!
Before the 3rd jump, we debated about going in again but once we saw another group feeding, a couple of us went for it. The wind had picked up. The waves were coming in high and choppy, enough to swamp my snorkel. By the end it was impossible to breathe normally while snorkeling and we were exhausted from swimming fast and dodging massive tails. But by that time I didn’t care, this was my best encounter yet...

Last Time
Two years ago, the water was so shadowy with krill and plankton and the sunlight so insufficient, that the sharks giant bodies were continuously veiled. Suddenly a 3ft gaping mouth would appear 10 feet from my face. Freaking out, I’d frantically backpedal away before it got too close, then it disappeared as if behind a mist. Having large creatures (5x my height) lurking about me in murkiness was mildly nerve-racking. It didn’t matter knowing these sharks don’t/can’t bite; I was more afraid of getting schwacked unconscious by a flicking tail. We could see them way better from above looking down into the water that day than we could under it. Above water, their massiveness was impressive. See my blog post from 2014. While a great experience, the second time was even better just knowing what to expect…

This Time
Today, choppy waves obscured the sharks from above. But under water, waves did not matter. I could clearly see them coming from probably 50ft away. And being able to approach them, rather than be surprised by them, was a much more comfortable … and gratifying… experience.

This time, I was able to just float, calmly witnessing these gentle giants (OK mostly calm). Their 25ft bodies hung at a 60 degree angles as if suspended in space; their 3ft mouth gaped wide open at the surface, gulping in krill and plankton. I could clearly see the throat expanding and contracting to consume water, the gills flaring, the smooth, speckled skin, the sharky-tail propelling silently (and fortunately not deadly) through the water.

Rule #1: Don't Kick the Sharks
One behemoth seemed to be doing dainty pirouettes, slowly swirling upright in one spot… performing water ballet. Wow. Mesmerized by this guy, I didn’t see his friend closing in on me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement and heard people yelling from the boat. Stupidly, I kicked frantically to get out of its way. When I felt my fin tip barely flick this 20,000 pound beast, I swore/screamed (quite loudly), worried I had scared him into flailing his dangerous tail. Thankfully, my transgression didn’t seem to bother him (he probably didn't even feel it - their skin is 4" thick). But it scared the pants off me. Or should I say wetsuit. Everybody got a good laugh at that one! Sorry guys, I did not get this freak-out on film. (Or did I?)

The Verdict? Worth It!
The second time around, despite dubious initial circumstances, was well worth it. It pays to do this tour twice allowing for different conditions. But it also pays to arrange it with a real tour company. With a real office. Cheaper isn’t always smarter.

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Side note: We were talking to a couple of cruising kids recently, maybe 7-yrs old, and asked them if they’d seen the whale sharks yet. “Oh yeah. Four times.” Wow. How’s that for a cruising kid’s life!

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Whale Shark Facts:

• Whale sharks are not whales; they are a species of shark.
• They are filter feeders similar to the baleen whale or basking shark. Pretty much they ingest whatever is in their path, forcing the water back out through their gills.
• Whale sharks can filter over 1500 gallons of water per hour.
• They eat plankton, krill, tiny fish, squid, jellyfish & fish eggs. Fortunately, not people.
• Whale sharks are the largest fish in the world. They are also the largest non-cetacean animal. In other words, only whales are bigger.
• Average size = 30-40 ft. That’s over 20,000 lbs of pure shark.
• Their mouths can span 3-5 feet in width!
• Each whale shark has a unique color pattern. The distinctive array of spots and stripes can be used to identify specific sharks.
• Average age – Internet consensus seems to be 70 yrs. Some say they can live to well over 100!

I just finished a new “Pics” link on www.cruisingindigo.com…one gigantic scrolly-page full of my favorite Baja Mexico photos.

I have taken, literally, thousands and thousands of pictures in the last 3 years. Many of these I’ve included in my blogs. Now, rather than wading through countless blog posts, you can witness the desert grandeur of Baja all in one convenient browsing location.

This “Best Of” montage is categorized by islands and anchorages grouped in proximity, as well as various cities we have visited. Since I am obsessed with shell and fish photos, I included separate galleries for each, as well as one for just sailing shots.

By no means is this comprehensive of our experience. While these images omit the portrayal of the necessary work it took to get here and maintenance work while we are here, they instead showcase the reward for doing so. Maybe you’ll understand just why we haven’t left yet! Maybe… it’ll make you want to fly or sail down here and see for yourself! 
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Here are a few examples...

“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.

Strolling along the paved boardwalk in downtown La Paz, we noticed a cluster of crouchers and hoverers ogling the sand, all smiling and chittering excitedly, the majority obsessively videoing via cell phone. What’s the ruckus? A thoughtful stranger urged us to come over and take a look…we’re so glad we took his suggestion. We’d stumbled accidentally upon a turtle nest hatching!

Baby Turtles!
Wow! I mean, WOW!!! A gaggle (or more accurately a “bale”) of baby sea turtles had just emerged from their shells below the sandy surface. Amidst the arduous process of climbing out of their nest, we watched in awe as their wrinkly, clumsy bodies (not much bigger than my thumb) flailed up the shallow slope toward the flat sand.

Loggerheads or Olive Ridley?
While I think they were Olive Ridley (most common), I’m not certain. Either way, we saw about 15 of the little dudes crawl out of their hole and head for sea. With increased conservation efforts, the Olive Ridley, a threatened species during the 80’s, has increased to nearly a million females per season…quite an astounding comeback. Many call Baja California home, their offspring returning each year to the exact spot of their birth to nest.

It’s a Hard Knock Life
It’s gotta be rough to be a sea turtle. Before you even get out of the nest you are in danger of being dug up & eaten as an egg by animals or people… or crushed by 4x4 vehicles. Assuming you made it that far and actually hatched, now you’ve got to wiggle up through the suffocating sand - more like a grave than a nest, I’d say. If the sand is too packed down from vehicle traffic it’s difficult, maybe impossible, to get out. Finally, with the help of your siblings, you clawed your way to the surface. Good for you! Now you’ve got to make it out of that caved in caldera to open sand, while repeatedly being trampled on by your fellow escapees. One by one, your grueling march to the sea begins.

Sniper-Crawl to the Sea
Low-crawling like a Marine sniper towards an objective, the babies must immediately traverse the dangerous expanse of beachhead. Scraping themselves along a mere 20ft of beach strand, it probably feels like miles to their tiny bodies… the countless sand depressions akin to scaling hills and valleys. Some turtles were slower than others. After all, they’re just learning to maneuver those flippers. Many required numerous 2-second rest stops to catch their breath and reorient themselves.

A Real Life “Frogger” Game
From the time those turtles step out of their hole everything is trying to kill them – too bad these mini-marines are missing their M-16 rifles. Sea birds like gulls and frigate birds have the marked advantage of speed and height to spot their dark flailing bodies contrasted against the light sand from far away. Land mammals like wild dogs and raccoons are also a danger. One interesting tidbit is that while adult turtles often include crabs in their diet, crabs will also eat baby sea turtles! An example of Mother Nature’s circle of life, I guess. Since land is a pretty perilous place for the youngsters, they are desperate to reach the ocean before becoming Scooby snacks.

Citizen Protection Squad
Most turtles seem to have that homing instinct leading them to the sea, but some need a little push in the right direction. When a few babes headed away from the water, concerned citizen-spectators turned them around… sometimes several times before their innate GPS skills took over.  Employees from PROFEPA, which supports the National Sea Turtle Conservation Program, were called in to take notes and monitor activity. They also erected a protective chicken wire barrier around a newly-discovered adjacent nest with a warning sign not to disturb. A bystander informed me that no one had previously discovered this nest; otherwise it would have been similarly marked for protection and monitored until hatching. As it was, the little guys are lucky to have hatched out in the open during the day where concerned Baja Californians could protect them from land predators (and take lots of photos) until they made it to the water.

First Swim
Momma turtle nested in a perfect spot along the calm shores of the Bay of La Paz, so they had no crashing ocean waves with which to contend. I could almost sense their slight hesitation and ultimate relief as they’d hit the water’s edge. The weaker ones seemed so tired, getting rolled in the tiniest of wavelets, dazed and confused for a moment before slowly and awkwardly floating out to sea. The stronger ones would bolt out into the water, duck-diving through the oncoming tiny wavelets and using the receding undertow to their advantage. Furiously they paddled with their tiny flippers on the same instinctive course with a single-minded thought… “Get to the chopper!” Seriously. I swear I heard it.

Ocean Hazards
Once they hit the water though, another epic journey to deeper waters ensues. Migrating hundreds or even thousands of sea miles, babies are constantly in danger of getting chomped on by larger carnivorous fish like grouper, rockfish, barracuda and sharks. A great many die as bycatch, caught helplessly in fishermen’s nets. Incredibly, only 1 in 1000 actually live to adulthood….terrible odds. It’s a hard knock life. I can’t help but wonder what people would do with their lives if we all had such odds.

An App for That
I wouldn’t be surprised if someone has made a kids videogame app by now…like Frogger or Plant Zombies but with turtles: “In their desperate escape to the ocean, adorable sea turtle babies must avoid bird bombs and crab snatchers, sand-castle-moat-digging children and reckless ATV’s, floating fishing nets, sneaky sharks and gulping groupers!” If anyone rolls with this idea, I’d better get a percentage…
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Bucket List Item - Check
Only once have we witnessed turtles here in the Sea of Cortez. On our 2-day passage from Mazatlán, we encountered multiple large turtles floating lazily with us back to La Paz. Since then, we’d sadly never seen another…until today. I’d contemplated finding a turtle release program where volunteers can assist hatchlings from known protected turtle sites. But this random event was perfect in its spontaneity…raw nature in action. It’s quite possibly a once-in-a-lifetime experience to witness baby turtles in their first moments. What a great day! Bucket list item complete.
 
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Be sure to watch my Turtle Trek Video. Baby turtles are adorable! I promise it will make your day. 

Merry Christmas from Marina Costa Baja in the beautiful city of La Paz!

Costa Baja Christmas Tree
Each December, a beautiful, two-story Christmas tree is erected in Marina Costa Baja. While it’s often easy to forget it is Christmastime here in flip-flop weather, the tree is a lovely reminder of the season. Constructed of a bundle of steel bars, it takes two days for one guy to weld these fragments into a giant, hollow, tee-pee skeleton. That’s right, I said weld. Over the next few days the structure is then meticulously spiral-encircled with probably a mile of fake green garland; white Christmas light pin-striping flows down from the gilded star to potted poinsettias surrounding the base. This Jolly Green Giant is then adorned with red and golden ornaments: cantaloupe-sized, sparkly orbs and smaller teardrops that I like to think resemble (artistically) chili peppers…a Red Hot Chili Pepper Christmas.

After the New Year, someone will take a cutting torch to the skeleton, rendering our mighty tree to a bundle of bars (and a gaggle of garland) once again. When we witnessed this process in 2014, my first thought was…why wouldn’t you buy a made-to-assemble, tinker-toy-type tree? You know…the IKEAesque  ”no tools required” kind. Well, they’re not cheap…but this permits us a slight insight into how things are done here in Mexico. My guess is they probably already had the steel bars left over from some other building project. Joe the dockworker over here is a decent welder; let’s just have him do it. Labor is cheap – so the cost of labor for 4 days is waaaay cheaper than buying a commercial grade, erector-set tree, even if they have to pay a guy to weld it up and cut it down every year for the next 20 years. Food for thought. In the US, time is money; in Mexico, time is trivial, efficiency is underrated because labor is cheap… and dinero is still dinero.

Christmas Market
Just up the dock from our boat, Marina Costa Baja sponsored an evening Christmas Market. About 30 merchants lined the sidewalk selling their wares atop decorated tables: dried spices, La Paz t-shirts, shell-art, handmade shoes, woven handbags, jewelry, pottery and more. I was more in it for the food (can’t fill a small boat with knickknacks). We soon discovered a chocolatier named Fan Fan and sampled their amazing chocolate brownies. Gotta have dessert first! The “Sausage Lady” was there too, a German transplant (I believe) whose handmade sausages are well-known throughout the La Paz cruising community; her spicy links and fresh baguette buns made a delish dinner. Costa Baja offered free Mexican hot chocolate and galletas (a hard sugar cookie) for all the attending marina, hotel and condo patrons. Finally, I could not resist taking home two enormous corn muffins filled with cajeta (sugary, caramely, creamy goodness) for breakfast. Delectable delights abound in La Paz…part of the reason we like this city!

Fav Christmas Movies
Every December it is our tradition to watch the following movies: It's a Wonderful Life, White Christmas and Elf. Sometimes Miracle on 34th Street. And usually, Die Hard, but not lately. Yes, it's a Christmas movie (according to my husband), remember? For the last two years when Christmas rolls around, we keep thinking we have the DVD... then remember we don't. We had the VHS tape (shows our age) but threw it away when we moved on the boat, no longer owning a VHS player. Today we did it again (this is becoming a running joke now), assuming we had it only to discover the opposite. Brian is shocked and dismayed - not having Die Hard on board is blastphemous! "Cause it's one of the best Christmas movies of all time!" says he.

Polar Vortex
Here in Baja Mexico we play in the sand instead of snow this time of year, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have Christmas trees and blow-up Santas just like home. So here are a few Christmas decoration pics to prove it…and I’ve added in some infinity pool shots just to make you guys in the north jealous. By the way, it’s about 75 today. We were freezing last week during our first polar vortex… it got down to about 60 at night. We all had to put on JEANS. Some of us wore SOCKS. Oh, the horror! 

Wing-on-winging-it
This trip, with its consistent 10-15 knots of wind, has been our chance to improve our downwind sailing skills. Rarely do we get the precise wind angle for our direction to go wing-on-wing, but we’ve done it four days on this trip and for several hours each time. A brief definition of wing-on-wing (W.O.W.) is: flying the mainsail on one side of the boat and the jib on the other with the wind directly behind us, essentially pushing us forward.  

Yesterday, we flew downstream from San Marte to Timbabiche wing-on wing, but I refused to let Brian put up the pole to keep the jib furled out. It was already far too windy and wavy for Brian to be crawling around on a convulsing, pitching deck unnecessarily. Without the pole though, it was very difficult to keep Indigo in check and stay at the necessary precise angle to the wind. Any little distraction in steering can result in a flapping and flailing jib. Let’s just say it was no leisurely Sunday drive.

WOW Event
So today, we hauled the pole up early, before it got too windy and the seas too gnarly. All the stars aligned for a superior WOW event: wave direction, wind direction and our direction to the next anchorage. It was a glorious thing.

For hours we enjoyed near perfect downwind conditions into the head of the San Jose Channel. As the wind had died the previous night, we started out with minimal waves and 5 knots of wind. And as the morning progressed, the wind slowly built to 15-17 knots but the slow uptick kept wave heights to middling. So the ride was just beautiful, like coasting a sled downhill. Unlike the previous day when Indigo was getting bullied about by the large waves (and me getting bandied about trying to steer her)… today she was expertly schussing down those seas like they weren’t even there.

The Pole is The Key when WOWing
Without the pole, the jib is constantly on the verge of collapsing because it wants to flip to the other side to align with the mainsail (my wandering steering doesn’t help). With the pole, the jib is held out in position whether it wants to be or not. Even though it requires some setup time, pole deployment balances the boat and thwarts the jib’s flip-flop tendency. This accomplished, I could darn near sail without paying attention. My true wind angle could vary anywhere from 180-140 degrees, as opposed to having to vigorously maintain 170 dead on without the pole. I could even venture over 10 degrees into the other side for a bit without gybing (don’t ask how I know this). Ah, but this is gibberish to you non-sailors. Basically, I could wander off unintentionally (my specialty) without dire consequences. What dire consequences? An accidental gybe.

What is a Gybe?
In sailing, there are essentially two types of turns, a tack and a gybe. You tack when your boat is driving into the wind; you perform a gybe when your boat is facing away from the wind. Tacking is way easier than gybing. Gybing can incur anxiety in even the most seasoned sailors - if not done right, disaster can ensue. There are three types of gybes: a ‘controlled gybe’, an ‘uncontrolled gybe’ and what I call a ‘semi-controlled gybe’.

Controlled Gybe
A purposeful turn, the sailor conscientiously controls the boom angle all the way through the turn. So there we are… picture the boom (that big, swinging stick perpendicular to the mast) hanging out over the water with its sail full. As the driver (me) carefully turns the boat towards the opposite wind angle, the mate (Brian) hauls the boom in (reeling it in with rope) until it hits almost amidships (aligning with the length of the boat). At this brief moment in time the wind angle is at exactly 180 degrees on our stern. If it’s calm, the mainsail flutters and the boom does a little waggle, deciding which way it wants to sail, and we can actually manhandle it over to the other side to reduce any load. But, if it’s windy out, forget it. We’d better be quick. As the boom crosses that 180 degree angle, the sail shakes loudly and the boom slams (hopefully just a little) to the opposite side as the wind suddenly poofs the sail. As the boat heels over, I quickly turn her even further and Brian lets the line out so the boom extends over the opposite side. That’s what happens when you do it right. It doesn’t always go so well.

Uncontrolled Gybe
An uncontrolled gybe occurs when the boom slams unchecked to the opposite side of the boat. This can result from a sudden switch in wind direction or a pushy wave. But most likely, someone (me) accidentally turned too far downwind and backwinded the sail before we are ready for a controlled gybe. Imagine that big, heavy boom swinging unrestrained from one side of the boat to the other, a pendulum swing of potentially 90 degrees or more (15 feet rather than 1 or 2 inches).

It can happen in the blink of an eye, but it feels like a slow-mo movie scene where the actor is just watching, wide-eyed and powerless to help. Noooooo! Before you know it, the boom has soundlessly whipped over your head and crashed to the other side with an earsplitting, lightning-bolt “SNAP”. A deep shudder reverberates up the attached mast, throughout the ship and deep into your gut (you are, after all, one with the boat). A palpable sensation, it’s enough to cause some pronounced bowel-shifting. Depending on your speed and how far and fast the pendulum has swung, enough momentum is in play here to break that boom-to-mast joint or snap the boom in half. High wind and wave conditions make that force even greater. If your body or head is in the way… good luck. We have never experienced a really bad gybe, but we have bungled a few over the years in light winds… and while we haven’t damaged anything, we still abhor gybing simply because we can’t help but anticipate potential catastrophe!

Semi-Controlled Gybe
This is pretty much the combo meal deal where I asked for 10 chicken nuggets but I only got 7 and complaining to the manager is pointless because, well, YOU are the manager. In turning across that 180-degree space, the driver turns too quickly and the mate can’t tighten up the boom all the way in time before it schwacks across at a 10-20 degree arc. Or…turn too slowly and a following wave can broadside the boat as the mate is in the process of bringing in the line, causing the boat to roll and gybe. Still a mighty crunch, but not AS BAD as it could have been had the mate not gotten that boom part-way tightened. Seven out of ten nuggets isn’t what I set out for, but at least I got some. Effectively a controlled gybe part of the way, uncontrolled the rest. Brian would still call this an uncontrolled gybe, partially tightened or not, but I prefer to note the difference. A 20-degree pendulum swing is a thousand times better than a 90-degree free swing. But either way… No Bueno. So what can you do?

The Preventer
Sounds like a super hero, eh? “THE PREVENTER – preventing accidental gybes worldwide. Wherever there be sloppy sailors, careless cruisers or ridiculous racers, THE PREVENTER precludes improper pointing.” While most boat parts are awarded some incongruous label, a preventer does exactly what it says. It prevents an uncontrolled gybe, reigning in that boom from flying about, willy nilly. A preventer is simply a line attached from the end or the middle of the boom to the deck, usually encompassing a ratcheting device which can be tightened as needed.

While we employ a preventer to stop full-on uncontrolled gybes, an inadvertent gybe will still cause the mainsail to become backwinded. Wind suddenly filling the sail from the opposing direction can cause excessive load. Depending on a lot of factors, your boom will prooobably stay in place; but this sudden load has caused preventer lines to snap (bad) thus resulting in an uncontrolled gybe anyway. Also, in heavy seas the rolling motion of a wave can cause a quick loosening in the preventer line and then a sickening ‘snap’ as the preventer whips the boom back into place. Despite its shortcomings, we usually sail with a preventer when sailing downwind and always when sailing wing-on wing.

Ok, enough sailing terminology …back to our lovely WOW Event…

The San Jose Channel
The San Jose Channel is notorious for its squirrely nature. It can be as fickle as a 2-yr-old… serene one minute, wailing the next. This 3 to 5 mile-wide slice of water runs between the Sierra Gigantas mountain range on the Baja peninsula and the 16-mile-long mountainous island of San Jose. Swooping tidal current can accelerate already high winds and seas. Previous experience with the Channel has ranged from benign flat water to mildly energetic. But we’d witnessed its howling rage from safe anchorage and were thankful we weren’t out there. Today, we miscalculated.

Let’s Keep Going!…Bad Idea
We had left at dawn, so about noon we’d gone almost 25 miles and were nearing San Evaristo, our original destination. But we’re feeling good, it’s early and Isla San Francisco is only another 12 miles away, we argued. Sailing a brisk 5-6 knots, Indigo rode at a perfect, comfortable angle to the slowly increasing waves… which we noticed… but ignored since our ship was effortlessly balanced. A little lulled into the lure of our perfect WOW sail continuing “as is”, we kept going. Those darn sea sirens must have been singing. Between that irreversible decision (@ noon) and our landing at Isla San Francisco (@ 2:30), the wind gods became angry….probably hangry, they didn’t have lunch yet I assume. Maybe next time I should throw some Cheez Whiz into the sea to calm them down.

Max Hull Speed
Passing San Evaristo, the wind quickly ticked upward from a manageable 15-17 knots… to 22 knots. Indigo was hauling butt at 7-7.5 knots, which by the way is hull speed, the theoretical maximum speed at which our particular boat is designed to go! Whitecaps snarled and hissed intermittently at our rear but there was no turning back. It would have actually been supercalifragilistically uncomfortable to do so, to bash into that mess. It was so windy, sailing wing-on-wing was no longer an option – too risky as the boat became unbalanced. Brian furled in the jib and went up on the lurching bow to take down the pole, no easy task in these now 5ft/4second seas. Sans jib, we were still racing down the channel at 6 knots under full mainsail alone.

27 Knots!
We try very hard not to sail in 27 knots; we just don’t go out when it’s forecasted over 20. But sometimes it sneaks up on you...like right now. I should have just turned off the wind indicator when I consistently started seeing 25-27 knots! Waves now broke behind us in a continuous hissy-fit, threatening to eat us for lunch. I gritted my teeth and opted not to look backward. Hand-steering down those short waves I felt like an Indy car driver – to focus so fully on not crashing is exhausting! Every 4 seconds our rear end lifted, our bow pointed at a daunting downward angle and Indigo was thrust forward like a plaything until it fell into the next trough. The boat handled it fine but at some point we were going to have to make a left turn into the anchorage and go beam-on to these frothing whitecaps. The stern waves were our friend now, helping to push us towards our goal, but as soon as we turned even a little they’d become the enemy.

Sailing Under Reefed Main Only
At 2pm, Brian put a reef in the mainsail and we continued to fly towards the island in 27 knots of wind but at a more controllable pace of 5 knots. We managed to (purposefully) get as close as physically possible to the island, skimming its west side a mere several hundred feet off shore. We are thankful for our accurate chartplotter and The Sea of Cortez Cruiser’s Guide; we had skimmed the island once before in calm waters and were thus confidant as to depths and rock obstructions so close to its edge. Once we made the pronounced left turn into the anchorage, this proximity reduced our time sailing beam-on to the breaking waves to mere minutes. Our skim-the-shore-wave-avoidance plan worked. Whew! We were in. That 8-hr WOW Event turned into quite a bit more WOW than expected, but we made it!

Lounge Lizards
We set the hook and promptly lazed like lounge lizards in the cockpit, resting our travel weary bones. We didn’t move from that heavenly spot for 3 days. I LOVE Isla San Francisco!

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Uncouth Charterboaters
OK, you yacht charterer guys. Just so you know… when you pee off the boat in the middle of the day, count on EVERYBODY seeing it.

So a charter catamaran anchors next to us with a couple families on board. We saw two different adult males pee off the boat no less than four times. During the day. In broad daylight. From the swim step. AND off the bow into the wind – Hey genius, never pee into the wind!  I seem to recall some song lyrics about that. It’s not like we were intently watching them. We’d just happen to be looking out from the cockpit to see what the commotion is about or up on deck showering after a snorkel… and whammo, our eyes are inundated with the uncouth sight. Acckkk! Seriously? And if you think we were the ONLY ones who saw your tactless little display? Think again. In kayaking over to our trawler boat neighbor, the subject happened to come up. “Yeah! We SAW that too! What an idiot, peeing off the bow into the wind. And like no one could see him…” So, if you think no one is watching? Think again. And guess what language said charterers were speaking? French. Yah.

Before we crossed the Sea, I happened to skim a decade-old government-issued marketing plan/coffee table book printed by Fonatur (tourist arm of the Mexican government) and SEMARNAT (environmental arm). Since the 70’s, Fonatur has actively developed key areas of Mexico for tourism. Under their purview, the sleepy beach village of Cabo San Lucas has turned into a miniature Las Vegas; Cancun, former swampland inhabited by merely a few fishermen, is now a world-renowned resort destination.  Critics may wring hands about overbuilding and environmental concerns, but there is no doubt the economy has benefitted by this influx of tourism money. (Here’s a link to an interesting article on Fonatur.) 

Escalera Nautica
Long before the term “eco-tourism” was coined, Mexico understood the extraordinary jewel that is the Sea of Cortez.  Years ago, they began developing several small marinas throughout the Sea to attract the yachting industry, also working with developers to provide nearby hotel facilities for water-loving land-based visitors. The Escalera Nautica, as it was marketed, or Nautical Staircase, was purposefully designed to facilitate boaters (people like us) to safely climb their way to the top of the Sea and back down. Just like their previously developed resort communities, they hoped by seeding key areas with marinas and visitor accommodations, that the tourism industry would snowball economic growth, provide jobs and enable infrastructure development.  Over the years, several small, 18-20 slip Fonatur marinas have been built according to this plan. Some are more well-run and visited than others, but all along, the objective has been to sell these marinas once established.

SOLD!
So I am happy to tell you that since our last visit, the former government-run Marina Fonatur at Puerto Escondido has been purchased by a private firm. It is now run, as of June I believe, by a company called Waicuri. According to brochures, their master plan is pretty ambitious. We’ve been told part of the contract is that Waicuri must complete a certain amount of development within two years. What those exact stipulations are, I’ve no idea…but here’s a couple major items on their overall agenda...

Sell Those Lots!
One goal is to sell those primo vacant lots! Puerto Escondido lies just 15 miles south of the “Magic Town” of Loreto, with its myriad shops & eateries, historical town square and an international airport to boot. Years ago, the foundation was laid here for a harbor-front housing community. Custom homes built on canal frontage surely should entice boating enthusiasts galore with the promise of a private dock in an amazing locale. With its background a spectacular mountain range, its foreground a beautiful and safe harbor, this place begs further development.

But for years, the grid of paved subdivision roads sits empty, like a cliché apocalypse movie. Cracked pavement. Tumbleweeds. Skittering lizards. Screeching hawks in the distance. Canals that go nowhere. Crumbling bridges. Street lighting poles hover over scrub-strewn, vacant homesites, waiting to be switched on… but not a single house built. An empty shell of concrete and rebar stands alone overlooking the docks, perhaps a condo or hotel started but abandoned. Outrageous price expectation? Poor infrastructure (sewer, water, electric)? Who knows why nothing sold.

Now though, from the looks of it, things are happening. We noted much construction activity out there in the canal areas – a backhoe, freshly graded dirt, stacked bricks awaiting placement, rebar in a new foundation, a mess of guys repairing a canal bridge, and new landscaping. Last time we visited, the canal was empty. This time we sighted several powerboats attached to brand-new, aluminum floating docks in the canal. Whether those owners have purchased lots or are just renting those private docks, I can’t say. But it’s a good sign. According to the Waicuri website, “condominiums, a beach club with restaurant, spa and gym for all the home owners, boutique hotel and much more!” are eventually on the docket. Well, that sounds a little ambitious. We’ll see.

Slips in the Ellipse? Can it be true?
Another ambitious project is to build 200 slips in the Ellipse. The Ellipse is a curved breakwater structure that once housed several mooring balls and was operated by a different entity. I always thought mooring balls here was a waste of space in such a small area. A dock system would maximize the number of boats who wish to be “attached” to land longer-term. As long as they still maintain plenty of inexpensive moorings in the large harbor, this could be a win-win for both cruising types. The PE harbor itself is already a relatively safe “hurricane hole” surrounded by mountains and completely cut off from the capricious powers of the Sea. The Ellipse’s breakwater offers double-protection from small, choppy wind waves that funnel down the harbor in a north blow. We think this marina expansion is great idea and would definitely consider keeping Indigo here longer term. But only if they provided shuttle service to town.

Click here to see an aerial mock-up of the proposed facilities…notice the slips in the Ellipse next to the harbor opening. I am skeptical this will be built anytime soon…but, you never know. They have already removed all but three of the boats that were moored here, many of which were left permanently unattended. I do not know what, if anything, is planned for the Waiting Room where many people actually live on their boats on a mooring full time.

Other small improvements have taken place. Here are the things we’ve noticed…

• The marina office is getting an interior facelift. By the way, the office folks are very nice and helpful. But don’t expect your records (boat documentation) to be on file from before June - everything has been expunged.
• Laundry is now FREE! One free load per boat per day. Staying for 2-3 days? You can combine your loads all in one session. The marina office notifies their cleaning attendant who will turn on the washers & dryers for you manually. Formerly $3 per load, this is a really nice bonus.
• The POOL works! That pool has been empty and forlorn for at least the two years we’ve been visiting. Now it is crystal clear and, although colder than the sea water, refreshing in the 90 degree heat.

Same ‘ole…

• The mooring prices are still the same, @$10 per day. We’re certainly not complaining…just glad they didn’t raise their rates.
• Internet sucks. Still. But the marina says they are “working on it”. The normally half-way decent internet at Tripui hotel/restaurant was also inoperative at the time we visited. Double whammy. So we had to rely on our phone. Except…
• Cell service is still spotty in Puerto Escondido. We’ve been advised to take a farther mooring near the “windows” for better line of sight with the Loreto tower, and folks in the Waiting Room have no trouble as their boats face the Bahia Candeleros tower. But this isn’t the marina’s fault; it’s not like I expect them to buy a cell phone tower! But if we could get halfway decent marina internet, we wouldn’t give a whit about cell cervice.
• The women’s bathroom shower stalls still have no exterior shower curtains, the interior walls are still crumbling, the internal shower doors are still catawampus and still no hot water. Good thing it was HOT outside and we didn’t care so much. This time. But this gripe is getting old. Showers should be at the top of the list of improvements.

​And then there’s the sad news…

• Carole’s tienda is closing as of December. The owner’s just don’t have enough business during the summer to remain in the black. This is a huge disappointment to ALL cruisers as it is the only place to obtain cold drinks, milk, chips, bread, cereal and a few fresh veges to sustain our trip onward. Not to mention her made-to-order hamburgers and the occasional homemade banana bread for sale. And I don’t know what’s going to happen to Taco Saturday. The undesirable alternative is to rent a car for $80 a day or take an all-day taxi to Loreto for just about as much or anchor in a tenuous location off the Loreto breakwater with no wave protection. The little store is so important to cruising customers - I wish Waicuri would just give them free rent during the lean summer months. Very sad.

I’ll Believe It When I See It
When it comes to big proposals like this in Mexico, we immediately take on a “I’ll believe it when I see it” attitude. So many projects start and get abandoned just as quickly, it’s impossible to tell whether this one will fail or succeed. In perusing the Waicuri website, I recognize one of the developers as San Diego-based Hamann Construction, who I watched build the manufacturing facility I worked in several years ago. I am hopeful their expert involvement lends a positive tilt to the overall success. But, the best indication is that Waicuri IS beginning to make improvements. Let’s just hope they continue!