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trip logs

Ready for the big old Pacific Ocean

Our friend and crewmember Matt, along with his wife Kristin, arrived in La Paz last weekend. This means several things: (1) the cockpit finally got cleaned out so they have a place to sleep, (2) the girls adore them both which has left Michael and I more time to prepare for the crossing, and (3) it’s nearly time for us to start our life-changing passage across the Pacific Ocean.

Kristin and Matt, our crew

Kristin will travel with us over the next week to San Jose del Cabo where we will check out of Mexico, complete a run to Costco, and load up our fresh produce. Matt will stay onboard with us for the next 2700 or so nautical miles to Hiva Oa. Having our friend along will be an enormous help, as each of us will take only one 4-hour watch at night, allowing us to get at least 8 hours of sleep a day for ample energy to cook, sail and take care of and enjoy time with our girls. Matt also likes to cook, splice and he is a much better fisherman than we are so we plan to put his skills to use. He is also hilarious and we already enjoy his (and Kristin’s) fresh company onboard.

Yesterday afternoon we motored out of La Paz in calm waters. We’d had a slip at the dock for the past two weeks while we got the boat ready and piled on six heaping grocery cartloads of food. It was quite like the day we left Olympia over eight months ago; we knew we were ready to go but kept feeling like we’d forgotten something, along with the knowing that we were starting out on something really really big. Our friends on Del Viento tossed our docklines onboard and I was torn between the sadness of not wanting to leave our good friends who we shared so many fantastic times with over the past few months and the excitement of us each going off on our own adventures and meeting up to share our stories in another year or two.

A few packages awaited us at our friends’ home in San Diego

We are now anchored one last time at Bahia San Gabriel at Isla Espiritu Santo showing our friends one of our favorite beaches ever. There are a few things remaining on our list of things to do before we step off the continent but today we are enjoying the chance to wind down after a truly whirlwind last three weeks of final preparations. At the end of February, we flew to San Diego for the weekend to pick up a number of items we didn’t trust to ship across the border (i.e. a new autopilot, our repaired HAM radio as well as a used spare purchased on ebay, a New Found Metals portlight to install at the end of our bed which opens into the cockpit, South Pacific guidebooks and charts, and most importantly: pounds and pounds of Trader Joes dark chocolate).

Back in La Paz we checked the boat over from top to bottom, installed the new autopilot and portlight, fixed loose stitches on our sails, got dental cleanings, fillings, a crown, and an eye exam, enjoyed five crazy days of Carnaval, filled the propane and dive tanks, went to meetings with the other La Paz Puddle Jumpers, helped with the girls’ bake sale for Baja Dogs, picked up more clean, dried and folded laundry, shopped for, piled on and stowed food, food, and more food, paper towels, toilet paper and sunscreen.

Even so, we definitely found ourselves on Mexican time: by 5 pm every day we’d wrap up our work, go and find Leah who was off playing with her girlfriends, and meander down the malecon to our favorite beach restaurant. Here, the margaritas were excellent and, more importantly, had an impressive playground right in the sand for the kids to run around in while their parents unwound.

It was sitting here two nights ago that I realized how truly much we are going to miss warm, easy Mexico. We’ll be back. But for now the Pacific is calling and we’re on our way.

Stella’s in La Paz: a restuarant in Mexico that serves amazing Italian food and wicked margaritas, complete with a playground on the beach. It does not get any better than this.

Leah and Frances, being 6. Leah is going to miss her good friend and so are we.

It took me three days to stow six grocery carts of food. And we haven’t even been to Costco yet.

Stories from the Sea of Cortez

We are now back in La Paz after spending three magical weeks exploring the Sea of Cortez a hundredish miles north of here. While our To Do List Before Crossing the Pacific consumes us now, we tried to put it out of our minds during our time up north and just enjoy exploring this stunning desert wilderness. Not having access to the internet certainly helped, and when our HAM radio went out with a pop and a puff of smoke in Agua Verde blogging and emailing ceased completely. We didn’t mind too much as it gave us even more time to soak in the beauty around us. Stories have piled up, as have memories of simply being together in the Sea.

A Surprise Reunion With Our Sailing Gurus

We waited in Ensenada Grande nearly three days for the northerly winds to die down which had turned us back while enroute to Isla San Francisco. We tuned into the Southbound Net one evening hoping to hear from our good friends that we’d last heard were on their way to Banderas Bay from San Carlos. Then we heard it, a booming check-in “TILLICUM!” that was so loud it was like they were right next door.

Turns out they were – just north of us at Isla San Francisco Robert and Rose on S/V Tillicum had made a surprise stop in Baja on their way south. Hailing from Sidney, British Columbia, we’d originally met these inspiring voyagers ten years ago while on our way to Mexico on our Alberg 35 and have kept in touch over the years. Two days later we were anchored right next to them at Isla San Francisco, where we’d also anchored together nine years ago, only this time of course we had our young girls to join us for tea in the afternoons. The crew of Tillicum, now well into their 60s, continues to inspire us with their endless youth and energy. They are now planning their fourth trip to the South Pacific — or maybe this time across the Atlantic — and shared hours of advice and stories for us as we plan our first.

Leah Turns Six

We officially celebrated Leah’s sixth birthday at Isla San Francisco. Earlier in the week at San Gabriel, we’d had a little beach party with our friends on Del Viento where all four girls ran around making sand dams and salty rivers for hours. At Isla San Francisco, we brought chocolate cupcakes over to Tillicum for another quiet celebration with friends.

A few weeks before, Leah was inwardly upset that there would not be a large gathering of her friends and a big party organized as we’d done in years past. But as her actual birthday approached, she was perfectly happy with our small celebrations of just a couple close friends, her family, a few small goodies and a day of sunshine and feeling special and loved. Another birthday to remember.

In Ague Verde, We Meet More Inspirational Canadians

Ken and Francesca are a retired couple from British Columbia who drive down from Canada to the little village of Agua Verde each winter. Their truck and camper was parked in an inconspicuous shady nook on the beach as it has been every winter for the past 10 years or so. We met them while wandering down the playa on our first day in the village. They took us under their wing, bringing us along on visits to their local friends’ homes, inviting the girls to visit the village preschool and personally showing us the painted caves that lie above the westernmost side of the inland valley.

Hiking our way up the cliff side to the aforementioned caves, Ken and Fran scrambled up the rocky hillside with ease while we huffed and puffed following behind. How we want to be like them, now and when we are approaching our 70s ourselves: full of life and smiles and energy and still excited to experience the new after years of exploring.

Holly’s First Day of School

The night before the girls visited the little preschool at Agua Verde, Holly could hardly sleep. She was so excited to be going to her first day of school, so giddy.

We woke up early that morning, ate bowls of hot oatmeal, got dressed in the finest school clothes we could find, piled in the dinghy and surfed into the village. We met the teacher at 9 am at the little one-room schoolhouse; she told us that there are usually 10 kids in class everyday and they are aged 3-5. At 6 they move on to the primary school on the other side of the village.

The room was small and simple but bright and had everything you’d expect in a preschool: tiny tables and chairs, walls plastered with the alphabet and numbers, a table of books, an art and science station. Over the next two hours the kids made a craft (painting glue over their printed name then scattering sand over it). The topic for the day was transportation; Teacher Sandra showed pictures to the kids of planes, trains, trucks then they gathered into a circle and played charades. Leah got to pretend to be a rocket, Holly a hot air balloon. The kids then cut pictures from magazines of things that moved and pasted them on a board, sorting by sea, land and air.

While 6-year-old Leah was quite frustrated at not understanding the language and was exhausted at morning’s end, Holly, at 3, didn’t mind it at all and asked when her next day at school was.

Perspective

We were anchored in Agua Verde when an enormous 160’ motoryacht joined us in the bay. Nearly half of the boat’s stern was dedicated to water and air toys: at least three powerboats tucked in several deck layers topped with a small helicopter. We were kind of awestruck at the arrogance of someone flaunting such wealth in front of a village of pangueros, with families living a life of such simple means.

The next day Ken and Francesca invited us to visit the home of their friends, Lenora and Alejandro, in the village. It was a lovely cozy home, painted in all my favorite shades of blue with a cool covered front porch where the family was gathered and a small garden out back. Francesca told me it was actually one of the larger homes in the village, with four rooms (a kitchen, the main bedroom/living room and a bedroom for their daughter and one for her son). Their home, like most others in the village, had a small 80-wattish solar panel and battery outside to power their lights and radios in the evenings.

Sitting in the cool shade of the front porch, we chatted with the family in our rudimentary Spanish. Michael, Ken and Alejandro talked about the solar panels most families now had in the village. “You are the velero with four panels, yes?” Alejandro asked us. We nodded, blushing with the knowledge that even our simple boat was adorned with excess.

The Los Gatos Hermit Crabs Come for a Visit

We spent a week in beautiful Agua Verde and could have easily stayed much longer but the time had come to boogie on south back to La Paz. Happily, while we had motored just about all the way up to Agua Verde we finally got to take advantage of all the nice northerly wind in the Sea to sail back.

The weather was fine to stop at Los Gatos, which is surrounded with the most amazing, smooth, bright red sandstone. It is just stunning and the rocks are perfect for scrambling around on.

Los Gatos is also home to herds of land hermit crabs and three of them came to Wondertime for a visit. Coco, Hermie and Sweetie enjoy raisins, carrots and most of all our leftover arracharra beef from Rancho Viejo here in La Paz. Our crabby friends will return to Los Gatos via our friends on Del Viento who plan to head up that way in the next few weeks.

One More Day at San Gabriel

We had 25 knots of wind blow us down the San Jose Canal and Bahia de La Paz back to Isla Espiritu Santo. It was a downwind boogie board ride that reminded me that (1) 10 foot waves are best spaced more than 10 feet apart and (2) these kinds of days are great for getting the counters and shelves cleaned off.

Anyway, we pulled into San Gabriel for the fourth time. I think this is our favorite beach ever; there is a salt water lagoon lined with mangroves that fills up at high tide which turns the beach into salty rivers as the water runs out with the tide. The girls can splash, and float, and build and bury themselves here silly. The sky is blue blue blue, the sand blindingly white and our favorite spot is edged with green mangroves with pink hills farther in the distance and the girls are just a blur, dashing and darting all over in pure play.

Our last morning at San Gabriel, before sailing to La Paz later that afternoon, I just stood on the beach here and took in the view around me, trying to remember all the details so I can return here again and again and again.

Baja Slow Life

They say that it takes six months to really slow down and enjoy cruising. Or maybe it’s a year. Whatever it is I think we are finally there.

I realized this while making lattes this morning. It’s our second day of hunkering down in Ensenada Grande while the fierce northerly winds buffet the other side of the island. We haven’t been ashore in two days and talk about the idea of putting the outboard on the dinghy today and venturing to the beach.

It’s 11 am and I am tidying up our oatmeal breakfast dishes, which consists of piling them into the sink to wash sometime later in the day. “A latte sounds really nice today,” Michael mentions from where he sits on the settee, watching the girls color and draw at the table. It’s sunny and warm, not a cloud in the sky, and I’m still feeling awake from our first cup of joe hours ago. “Yeah, that does sound good,” I reply and start getting out our coffee paraphernalia: our Aeropress and filters, the coffee beans, the grinder, the soy milk, the chocolate soy milk, my vanilla syrup, the frother, our latte cups. I set a kettle of water on the stove to heat.

Meanwhile both girls take note of the action in the galley and pop their heads up above the sink. “Chocolate milk! Chocolate milk!” they chant in unison. “How about some Mexican hot chocolate?” I ask. “Yeah!” they declare with glee.

I get out another pan and measure two cups of milk into it, light the burner, then drop the Mexican hot chocolate tablets in to melt. Meanwhile, I pour some chocolate milk into the frother for Michael’s mocha, set it to heat, then grind the beans.

An hour later, I am sitting in the cockpit with my hot vanilla latte and a book. People are now clamoring below for a snack. “Twenty minutes!” I tell them. “I’m going to enjoy my coffee now!” For the next 45 minutes I sit with my feet up in the sun letting Michael handle the deluge of requests down below from the girls while I read a chapter in my book and sip my frothy hot drink.

When I am done I get up and stretch and go back inside to get started on lunch which we’ll need to power us for an afternoon of digging holes on the beach, writing practice in the sand, searching for shells, climbing on rocks, and watching fish dart through the shallows. We have a full day ahead.

Another Countdown Begins

We are currently anchored at the north end of Isla Partida, in Ensenada Grande waiting for the northerly winds to finishing blowing themselves out so we can continue northward. The night before last we’d been anchored in San Gabriel. Just after settling in for a movie, the wind starting blowing from the southwest, right into our formerly peaceful anchorage. We spent the night bouncing up and down in the wind waves with only a fitful, half-awake sleep to get us through the night.

The next morning the southerly winds were still blowing so we were up early to take advantage of them, hoping to reach Isla San Francisco 25 miles north. As we expected, the breeze gradually petered out as we sailed up Espiritu Santo/Partida. We took down our spinnaker and motored for about 10 minutes. Suddenly the northerly we’d hoped would wait until later in the day to arrive, arrived. It didn’t just gradually build as winds typically do. Nope. One minute our Windex was spinning around with no wind whatsoever to guide it, and the next a steady 15 knots was blowing down on us from the north.

Five minutes later we had 25 knots, with gusts to 30. Michael and I looked at each other after watching the building windwaves for a minute or two. “Turn?” “Yep.” We steered the boat to port and high-tailed it back to Ensenada Grande to wait for the winds to die down over the next several days. With only our staysail up, we were making six knots directly for our coveted anchorage. Not an hour after the northerly started we already had 4-6 foot wind waves pushing us around. The Sea of Cortez is intense indeed.

Ensenada Grande is hardly a terrible place to be stuck in. We are surrounded by turquoise water and huge pink cliffs of volcanic rock sculpted by wind and waves backed against a sky that seems impossibly blue. There is a white sand beach which we had to ourselves to play on today and criss-cross trails that meandered inland a bit through desert scrub and cactus.

Back on the boat, the girls busied themselves with their workbooks and Magic Tree House audiobooks and Michael and I busied ourselves with our Lists. Our mission right now is to just relax and simply enjoy the next few weeks of slow exploration in the Sea, as once again a deadline is looming. By March 15th we’ll start our nearly month-long sail across the Pacific Ocean to the Marquesas Islands, our first stop on our South Pacific Adventure.

But rather than the dread that many a deadline evokes, when we get out our lists of things to do in the next seven weeks we feel butterflies. We are nothing but excited at the journey ahead. We look ahead in our South Pacific guidebooks daily, and realize that we are not dreaming anymore, but planning. All we really need to do is relish the beauty of Baja Mexico, pack some food and supplies onboard, and go.

When the wind picked up yesterday and we were barreling along with just our tiny staysail up, the sea a froth of whitecaps and spray I looked around at the beauty of it all and realized I wasn’t nervous a bit. I watched Michael as he calmly adjusted our course so our leeway wouldn’t send us south of our destination. I peeked down the forward hatch and checked on the girls who were in our bunk looking at books, oblivious to the howling wind outside. The anxiety I’d felt each time the wind built six months ago was gone. In it’s place is a calm confidence that Wondertime can handle this and much more with grace. And now after sailing several thousand miles together, I see that so can we.

Wondertime Visits Isla Isabel

Blue-footed Booby Birds (photo by Leah)

After nearly five weeks in Banderas Bay we’ve been craving some island time. Badly. So we pointed our bow north to one of our very favorite islands of all time, Isla Isabel, which lies about 18 miles west of the mainland coast, 90 miles or so south of Mazatlan. The weather forecast was perfect for a visit (10  knots or less of wind) since the anchorages are completely exposed and the bottom so rocky that the anchor’s grip on it is tenuous at best. We dropped our Rocna just south of the Los Monas rock sculptures on the east side of the island and it seemed to hold on the edge of a steep shelf that drops back into the sea.

Isla Isabel is home to millions of nesting birds, mainly blue-footed boobies and frigatebirds. Other than visiting yacht crews, the occasional motivated traveller, a handful of fishermen and research students, the island is relatively free from human intervention. As the birds have no predators on the island they are comfortable to nest literally anywhere and everywhere on the 2-mile square ex-volcano.

Leah, being a lover of both birds and wild islands, was enamored with the place. “I call this ‘Bird Island’!” she declared soon after setting off down the trail. She does not exaggerate: you literally have to watch your step at all times as you tiptoe amongst literally thousands and thousands of booby birds nesting right on the ground. It’s hard not to get too close and sometimes they are frightened off, squawking and waddling, leaving their two dusty blue eggs alone in their nests of dirt until they return a few minutes later, the coast clear.

Then you walk down paths through low shrubby trees that are finally clear of whistling boobies. Until you hear the cackling overhead that is the frigatebirds. You peer through the leaves and there they are, right above, in nests precariously balanced in the branches just a few feet over your head. The males have enormous red throat pouches that they inflate to impress a female; if she likes what she sees she caresses it deeply with her beak, and then her whole head. Suddenly you feel like a voyeur and continue walking, being careful now to not step on the large green iguanas that are lying in the grass in the sun.

It is the wild places we tiptoe through like Isla Isabel, places still owned by nature, that we observe with grateful eyes and we’ll always remember and hope our girls do too. I’m pretty sure Bird Island won’t be forgotten.