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Oops. We found another thing that can go wrong. It often seems the wind picks up just when we are about to anchor, thus we were zipping into the western cove on Bahía San Francisquito and pulling in our jib to slow down when the furling jammed! We noticed before anything broke, and were able to pull the sail out again to assess. Turns out we had cleverly discovered how to bung up the works. It was, fortunately, a gentle lesson about where not to store the spinnaker halyard.
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We were now back on the Baja Peninsula in another lovely bay. On the north end there was a short cliff with a couple of large cactii that made a popular perch for vultures and osprey. An outcrop with rocky pinnacles extended from the cliff and provided places for pelicans, herons and cormorants. Despite lots of places to land, two types of herons were frequently at odds, letting out harsh grawwwks of displeasure as they chased each other away from the apparently prime rocks. That's pretty nice but there was also a beach with golden sand backed by a green arroyo nestled amongst the hills, with coyote tracks running along the strand. Sea lions and turtles made brief appearances in the anchorage. Awesome! |
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We had a wonderful walk in the arroyo, which was even more full of life than the one on San Esteban, although some of that life included biting black bugs - bah! Other than that, the arroyo was beautiful. Parts of it seemed like someone had planted a garden with nicely arranged plants. We got led down the garden path several times, however, ending up at prickly impasses. Amongst the thorny plants, we found brilliant splashes of colour, small flowers, delicate seed pods, and huge cactii. Not only were the plants good, but also the rocks. The cliffs at the south end were impressively sculpted, with a hard outer layer remaining over gaps carved in the softer stone beneath. |
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A dinghy tour around the bay gave us a chance to test out the new lithium ion battery. Our electric outboard, Stealth, seemed to like Lilith and together they went faster than when Larry, the lead acid battery, is on duty. However, Larry at least gives us warning when he gets tired. While he drags his feet, Lilith digs in her heels and stops dead.Well, that's what the oars are for.
Again, we moved on sooner than desired in search of better protection from those pesky north winds. When we returned a couple of weeks later we had more opportunity to explore the underwater scenery. The sea was still chilly but the warm air temperature and water clarity helped. Even better, we found an Argus Moray eel, which we hadn't seen before! There was plenty of other life, too. I watched a fish disturb what seemed to be a few rays resting in the sand. Five(!) took off like a shot and at least three remained buried. We were impressed by the eyes on this long nose puffer, enjoyed being surrounded by a large school of small silvery fish glittering in the sun, and were excited when an infrequently seen golden variation of a leopard grouper made an appearance. We acknowledge that this all sounds a bit geeky on the fish front.
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Our last night in Bahía San Francisquito marked the beginning of winter. The sun had a struggle on the Solstice, fighting first an overcast sky and then bouts of fog. It made a triumphant return for the afternoon, as if to reinforce that it was on its way back for the season. That evening, a calm night and comfortable temperature had us lingering in the cockpit with a (plastic) glass of wine, and enjoying the spectacular after-dinner show. As the full moon emerged from the sea, transitioning from pink to orange and spreading its reflection across the flat water, we enjoyed some musical accompaniment over the shortwave radio, courtesy of an Arizona AM station, finding great humour in the old lyrics of the "country music so classic it sounds brand new".
After a short sail from Bahía San Franciquito (the first time we left it), we anchored at the east end of Bahía Santa Teresa and spent four nights here. The low hill gave us and a few fishers on shore some wind protection while Punta Santa Teresa reduced the waves. Watching the strong current whip by the point had us appreciating the relative flatness of our water. Our guide book speaks of a resort and we could see lights in a building at the far end of the long beach. Hmmm, do they have Internet? Off we go, tromping through the deep sand only to find mostly deserted buildings and none that look clearly like a resort. Maybe it was this place with the whale skull? Behind the beach was a huge flat area with curling dried mud and big cracks. Houses, seemingly abandoned or maybe stored for the winter, with vehicles in various states of repair, separated the mud flats from the beach. Painted rocks lined a dirt runway and spelled out the resort name but the lack of a wind sock and people, suggested little recent use. Do we need to say that there was no Internet?
On the wildlife front, turtles teased us by coming to the surface for a short breath and sinking down again, giving us little more than glimpses. When we braved the cool water, none were in sight. Still, just knowing they are there makes us smile. We did see several rays, a giant hawkfish doing its best to hide under a ledge, and a stone scorpionfish trying to look like a boulder. It was here that we spotted our first coyote - woo hoo!
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Strong winds kept us below decks for a bit. Bjarne worked on overhauling the water maker, which was a two-day project. Some of the seals were very tight-fitting and it was no easy task. More annoyingly, the water maker continued to be variable in its performance after the rebuild. Well, when we get water that is saltier than preferred for drinking we at least have more for showering. If you can't quench your thirst, you can at least be clean! Indoor weather is also a good time for baking and fresh buns are always a treat, even when we're out of butter. |
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Bahía Santa Teresa turned out to be a pretty good spot to wait out the northerlies but once the winds eased we were ready to explore elsewhere. Our next stop was the large Bahía de Las Animas, 34 miles to the north. It seems a forecast of southerly winds at this time of year is really just a prediction of light winds. That, and the counter-current, meant we motor-sailed, but we enjoyed the rugged cliffs with attracive colours along the way. One area had striking dark green layers with red layers in between.
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Animas Slot is a small cove in the south part of Bahía de Las Animas. Although it is open to the north we decided to risk it, hoping for the winds to stay light over night. The high hills that make the bay seem cozy also block the afternoon and morning sun, but the bay is so darned pretty it is hard to complain. We couldn't feel the warmth but at least enjoyed how the setting sun lit up the distant hills. After our arrival in the afternoon, I was below, making an upside down cake when I heard, "whale!" Of course, it was out of sight when I popped my head up. I waited a few minutes then resumed my activity. "Whale!" Dang, missed it again and it's hard to get any work done around here! This went on for a while until I gave up and stayed in the cockpit. The lesson is: whale watching and baking don't mix. |
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The next morning we paddled to the short beach and clambered up the rugged hills, taking care on the many loose rocks. We also kept our eyes out for stealth cactii hidden in the nooks and crannies. There were pretty veins of quartz and many loose stones with quartz sandwiched into interesting layers between other rock. Tucked under a small ledge was a geocache so we added our names to a short list of folks who'd been there (one of whom we'd met last year) - you just never know what you are going to see. One thing we did expect (and got) was a splendid view, enhanced by our lovely sailboat (who's biased?). |
Barb is blending in with the scenery |
Wicked Barbs |
Vegetable and Mineral |
No, Barb's not holding a bottle of rum (this pic is for Sheila, cacher extraordinaire). |
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The sun finally reached into the bay, we were warm from our exertions on shore and the water was clear. OK, into the drink to find a not-bad assortment of sealife around the rocky islet bordering the bay. The most unusual thing was a fish whose tail was two-thirds ripped off but still seemed to be getting around. Although not overwhelmingly brilliant, there were splashes of bright green coral amongst the dark boulders and several small glowing-blue fish (juvenile cortez damselfish and blue-and-yellow chromis). Once we were sufficiently cooled off (didn't take long) we bugged out of the anchorage, thinking the north winds were about to return any minute. Ha! We drifted toward our next destination until calling upon Sweet'ums to earn his keep, and then had a very peaceful (aka, calm) evening tucked behind Punta Alacrán. |
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The wind finally made an appearance in the middle of the night and howled all that first day. Pleasingly, the point did a good job of keeping the waves down and the blustery weather was good for getting some chores done. We like to mention a few of these in case you think we are always slacking off. Additionally, we like to give examples of things that were supposed to be straightforward but were not. So, while transfering fuel the diesel was very reluctant to flow down the fill pipe. It turns out the tank vent was completely clogged with mud, perhaps from a wasp in the boat yard looking for hidey-hole. Once the vent was cleaned out, we used a piece of scouring pad to replace the missing mesh. At least it won't corrode away like its predecessor. Then there was the underperforming water maker to tackle again. One last part got replaced, which fixed the clunking noise but not the variable quality of the water. Grrr. Finally, before we left this anchorage we added a new timer-switch on the water pressure pump to reduce the chance of accidentally draining our drinking water. |
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After all that work, it was time for a shore trip. The winds had eased, although the skies remained overcast. I should note that the cloudy skies at least brought us some brilliant sunrises.
Ensenada el Alacrán, meaning scorpion cove, is home to a resort that bills itself as a wilderness retreat. The yurts looked well-maintained and cozy. We spoke with the caretaker, who currently was the sole occupant. He indicated it would be busier in February. In the meanwhile, he appeared to have a pleasant job and we reqularly saw him fishing off the beach while his two dogs cavorted around. We started out walking along the beach, accompanied by one of the dogs. We had a nice view of the anchorage and the cinder cone that was to the north. Wandering inland took us to a large flat area that had dried mud and patches of salt. One of our favourite plants was growing here: it has branches that reach up 10-20 feet in a curly dangly way reminiscent of the world of Horton. We call them Dr. Seuss trees. The dog ranged through the low bushes and prickly plants but kept track of us. At times it would chase something like a rabbit, or furiously start digging - perhaps after a scorpion?. We don't think it caught any of its intended victims but it certainly was entertaining to watch.
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Cinder cone |
A Dr. Seuss Creation |
Scorpion or Rabbit Season? |
After three nights we thought the winds would allow for a change of scenery. We debated heading south but who knows if we'll ever come this way again. Onward and northward to Bahía de los Angeles!