We ran out of Concepcion, up past the little reef islands of Islas Santa Inez, and around Punta Chivato toward Isla San Marcos. There was little or no wind and only about a one foot chop on the water until after we got around Chivato. Then a breeze came up from the north and the seas started to build a bit. We were towing the Metz and I was a little concerned about what the seas would be on the north side of the island, so we made a hard left turn and went south of the island, through Canal Craig. There the seas were flat again but I scared myself when we suddenly came up on a reef and were in about fifteen feet of water. I had remembered the reef to the south extending farther than shown on the chart -- we'd explored it with Nancy aboard three years ago -- but I'd forgotten just how far. We stopped, turned southeast until almost on the mainland where we found about thirty feet of water, then proceeded west again. I'm glad the shallow waters are so green around here.
There wasn't much activity at the gypsum mining community as we passed; no ship loading and, since the wind was light, little dust blowing off the huge piles of gypsum in the yard. It's still in business though; the supply boat was just coming in with a load for the town. By the time we cleared the island the waves built up again and we slopped our way into Santa Rosalia, making a jog just outside the breakwater to keep from rolling in the trough. Inside, we stopped, pulled in the flopper-stopper poles, and got out lines and fenders. There are only three other boats on the marina docks, plus one anchored just off. Three young men helped us moor in slip No. 1 at the far end of the docks. One of them introduced himself as Angel, the marina manager. We checked in (Angel told us we were his first customers in 1991), got out the power cord, and soon were in our dockside configuration again.
Santa Rosalia hasn't changed much in the past three years. The marina still uses a drop cord from the abandoned shipyard for all of their power -- their own transformer still sits in its case by the head of the dock. A little more work seems to have been done on the old smelter plant, but it's still not in operation. We walked over to the ferry dock and found that the phone there works, a big change. Managed to get a call through to Kris and Bob, but the Prints and Pauper phone gave a constant busy signal. Wandering up though town we found that the Pharmacia had moved, but that seemed to be about the only change. Checking in all the stores as we went along, we found a 6 volt lantern bulb at a street vendor's and Racor filter cartriges at one of the Refraciones, then strolled over to the Restaurante Marien to see if our friends Neo and Philipina were still there. Philipina (I'm not sure how she spells her name) was there, welcoming us as old friends, and Neo came in while we were eating our meal, an interesting beef stew which she served with the broth in bowls with a piece of corn on the cob and all the meat and other veggies on a platter between us. They haven't changed although their chubby daughter, Marianna, now has a 15 month old daughter of her own. We had a nice time chatting with them.
Spent the morning cleaning up the boat, Lois the inside and I the outside. She washed all our dirty clothes and sheets and dusted and vacuumed up a storm while I worked on the decks and the Metz. On her second load of clothes I found her filling the washng machine by hand, so I had to face up to something on which I'd been procrastinating. I got out the electric screwdriver, tore the back wall off the washer enclosure, and cleaned out the sediment screen in the washer which was almost plugged with rust and gunk. Made a big difference in the flow. I also fiddled around in the engine room trying to find out where the air in our lines is coming from; it got so bad that the little Par pump couldn't suck it all out. I finally got the little pump working by opening valves and blowing all the air out, and then I left the Par system operating instead of the Paragon. If the Paragon check valve is the culprit, we shouldn't have any more air. The Metz cleanup was easy this time, not a single barnacle -- Cold water does have its advantages. I also put a patch on one scratch and tack down another which was coming loose, then swung the Metz up on deck ready to go.
Lois wanted to get her hair cut so in the afternoon we cleaned up and walked up town to a place Philipina had told us about. Naturally, it was closed but we strolled around town for a couple of hours, shopping for some things we never could find and sitting in the plaza watching people go by. Today was a pretty quiet day in Santa Rosalia -- not a lot going on anywhere.
08:26 Latitude 27o 32.49' Longitude 112o 19.03' I had pointed George in the direction of San Francisquito calculated by Tex, our satnav, but on the first update we were almost three miles off course. There must be a magnetic anomoly around Santa Rosalia, although the charts we have don't show it. It really didn't matter much this morning, visibility is excellent in spite of the cloud cover and we were running along a mountainous coast.
11:00 The clouds have moved off to the east now and we're running in the sunshine, but it still doesn't look like we're likely to get our normal afternoon north winds. The sea is still glassy smooth and yesterday's swell has almost disappeared. A real joy ride!
13:15 We almost run down a sea lion lying dead ahead of us with his flipper and tail in the air. At the last moment he rolled over and dove. Charley reported, "Twenty-two!" as he went beneath us. Other than for the birds, he was the first animal we've seen in over six hours of running -- including humans. There's not been even a panga visible on the horizon.
14:20 About twelve miles to go now. We really lucked out today; I was sure we'd be in for three or four hours of uncomfortable splashing into the north wind but here we are, almost home, with just a gentle breeze at our backs. Off ahead are the chain of "Midriff Islands" which block the northern Sea of Cortez and we're feeling the effects of that as we encounter tide shears in the water. We've also got the company of whales, many of them blowing and rolling in the sea around us. According to the literature, this area is the feasting grounds of the Sea of Cortez, the food chain being nourished by large upwellings of nutrient laden water rising from the 1000 fathom depths of the lower sea. In the engine room I can feel the effect -- the two inch, bronze, sea water cooling line to Gimmy feels icy cold with condensation on its surface. I broke my thermometer so I can't check, but I'd guess the water temperature at less than 50o.
16:35 Anchored in the southwest corner of Bahia San Francisquito. It's a pretty bay, about a mile deep, open to the northeast, with a little land-locked pocket on the southeast side where "shallow draft vessels" can park protected from all directions. There was one sailboat inside, but we chose to stay in the larger bay, at least until we can see for ourselves what "shallow draft" really means.
We were sipping our evening highball when the yap of a coyote startled us, sounding as if it were only feet away on the shore. We never saw him and when I answered his bark he shut up and we heard no more. Lois fixed the yellowtail we'd gotten from the fishermen in San Juanico for dinner -- Yes, I dragged the lines all day today with no luck, but the yellowtail was excellent -- then we watched The Wizard of Oz before going to bed.
From the beach we continued our tour along the rocky south shore. There, schools of fish darted toward the shallows as we cruised slowly along and we could see an occasional sea anemone or sun star on the bottom, something we've not seen for a long time. We explored the entrance to the small harbor and found, as the books had said, that although we could probably get SEA RAVEN in at high tide we'd then be stuck, and possibly aground. The one small sailboat hanging on a mooring inside looked like it had been there a long time. It was low tide and the water was so shallow and the bottom so rocky that we couldn't even get the Metz close to shore. There were a couple of houses there, and there is supposed to be an airstrip just behind them, but we saw no sign of life. Just to the east of the little bay there is another indentation with a nice sand bottom that looked like it might serve as an anchorage in a easterly wind but it is wide open to the north. We ran across the mouth of the bay, about a mile, to the north point. There, there was much more life on the rocks than in the bay proper, lots of fish, starfish, anemones, and sea fans. Lois saw a king-sized lobster duck under a big rock as we cruised by and we saw many rays which scooted up from the sandy bottom as we passed over. It looks like it would be a great place for diving.
We fooled around sightseeing for quite a while then went back to the boat and whiled away the day loafing and doing little jobs. During the whole day we never saw another human and only a single boat, that a fishing boat which passed the bay entrance in late afternoon headed north. The books say that this is a very popular place in the summer, but it's sure deserted now. From what we read, the roads to here leave much to be desired and those that do make the trip stay at the resorts to the south. Today we enjoyed our isolation.
10:30 Almost to the destination now and I'm having trouble correlating Vern Jones sketch with what I'm seeing. He shows the anchorage as being in a narrow bay where two almost-islands join but I can't seem to identify the slot. The radar showed an indentation on the left side but when we got there it turned out to be a passage between an offshore rock and the island. We stopped, turned around and headed back out while I tried to get my bearings. To the east I saw what might be the cove we were looking for so, going slowly along the southwest shore with Lois out on the bows, I headed that way. I was concentrating on looking at the chart, and the radar, to make the picture fit when glancing up I saw Lois waving frantically. I went to reverse and slammed the thottle open but too late:
KAAWHUMPPPP!
In that moment all kinds of horrible visions ran through my head. It's one thing to run aground in the San Francisco delta within easy calling distance for help from a tow boat, quite another here on a deserted island many miles from even a single human being, let alone real assistance in getting a 35 ton vessel off the rocks. We sat there and rocked for a few seconds then, in response to full thottle in reverse, slid back and off. Wow, the adrenalin was really flowing!
11:00 With no more stomach for Salsipuedes, and without even thinking about looking further for the missing cove, I pointed the nose toward Bahia Los Angeles which Tex said was another 29 miles away. We needed a place safe and calm where we could recover our composure. Although there was no wind, for the next three and a half hours we intermittantly bounced our way across the channel -- from time to time "haystacks" being produced by tidal races in the relatively shallow waters would join with last night's left-over swell to make confused seas. As we got to the point where we had a good view of Punta Solidad just outside Bahia Los Angeles I noted that again the compass was about ten degrees off of what Tex said was the appropriate heading. This time I decided that things were just to consistant to be a magnetic anomoly. Checking the satnav I found the problem -- in setting the magnetic variation I had inadvertently entered 11 minutes rather than 11 degrees. As soon as that was corrected Tex pointed the same way the compass did.
14:30 Anchored in the little bay of Puerto Don Juan just short of Bahia Los Angeles. We were still a little uptight from this morning's experience and as we'd rounded the point the depth sounder started showing less than twenty feet although I was sure that we were in fifty fathoms of water -- again I slammed things into reverse but it was just the tidal race around the point giving a bad signal to Charley. Then inside the bay, which is a totally land-locked "hurricane hole", what do we see but a big fishing trawler high up on the rocks with only its nose in the water. Needless to say, we had entered very slowly and carefully.
Once safely anchored, we poured ourselves a drink and tried to relax. Puerto Don Juan isn't a particularly pretty bay -- the hills all around it are barren piles of jumbled rock which, in all but a few places, come right down to the water. The water isn't very clear and the bottom isn't visible in more than about three feet. Later we went over and checked out the grounded fishing vessel. It's about sixty feet long, heavy duty fiberglass very well done, and carries the logo of PESCA, the Mexican fisheries department. It looks like it had been a very sturdy vessel, much better quality than that of the usual Mexican fishing fleet. Judging from the condition of the wood rails, it probably hasn't been here more than a couple of years. All the equipment has been salvaged except for the tower which still has the little fiberglass enclosed crows nest on its top. It's almost impossible to imagine that it was driven aground by wind and high seas -- the bay is only a quarter of a mile across with a narrow entrance and high hills on all sides. It appears that it may have been left here at anchor and for some reason the ground tackle failed. Once on the rocks, there's enough motion in the bay to wear a hole even through the heavy fiberglass of the hull. We could see one such hole in the stern which is high and dry at mid-tide.
About the time we got through looking at our wreck the wind started to blow so we headed back for the boat. Coming out of the west, the wind now blew us nearer to the shore than I liked, so we cranked up Gimmy again and moved out into the bay. I'm glad we did because in the middle of the night the wind picked up to over twenty knots, gusting to thirty. No waves in our little bay, but the wind sure howled through the rigging. Several kayakers -- the first people we'd seen in two three days -- had come in just before dark and had camped in the draw to the south. During the night we wondered if their flimsy tents had blown away, but the wind died about three in the morning and the tents were still there at daylight.
In the afternoon after the tide came in we went over to the beach where they'd been camping. They'd set up their camp -- which they'd left very clean, in a draw which in itself wasn't very interesting, but on the dune behind the beach we found a strange thing -- thousands of clam shells were strewn evenly along the cactus covered top which is thirty feet above the level of the bay at high tide; not in a big pile like we often see in the fish camps but spread over a wide area as if they'd been thrown up there by the sea. Yet, along the beach there isn't a single shell. They are obviously remnants of a time when the bay was filled with clams, but how they got where they are is as big a mystery as our grounded fisheries boat. At times there may be more violence in this little landlocked bay than appears possible.
Had yellowtail again for dinner -- we've still got a lot -- then watched Crocodile Dundee, still fun even though we've seen it several times.
You also pick up useful tidbits of information listening to other boaters. This morning I listened while a couple of guys from Southern California discussed their experiences in getting their bottoms done in Encenada. Both said that they'd had very good service from an outfit called Baja Novella, and for less than half the cost they'd have had to pay in the States. That might be worthwhile considering because we'll sure be due for a bottom job this spring.
10:30 Anchored in front of the mole at Los Angeles. I guess you'd describe this village as a low budget gringo resort. Too hot in the summer and cold in the winter to attract the high spending bunch, it is never-the-less a very gringo-ized place. Several large RV parks line the beach to the north of the mole and town center and to the south houses, obviously too well built for the Mexican residents, overlook the bay. As we anchored we could see signs advertising a hotel, the health center, and several restaurants. I had a bit of trouble getting the hook down -- the pile of chain in the locker had fallen over and trapped the end. I had to go below and staighten it up before I could get it to run out -- but we finally got all squared away, locked up the boat, and ran to shore.
On the beach we talked for a few minutes to some of the RV people who were here for a few weeks. They said that the wind just about blew their motor home away yesterday and gave us a short briefing on the town, pointing out the grocery store and restaurants. We then walked up through the streets just sightseeing as we went. There's not a whole lot to see. Once you get behind the tourist lined beach it's pretty much just a dusty little Mexican village in the Baja. On the hill behind the village we did find one thing quite unusual, a very nicely done Baja museum. We were walking along this dusty little street when we spotted the skeleton of a whale. Going closer to investigate, we found that it was an outdoor exhibit of a small museum, the exterior walls of which were painted with replicas of Baja cave paintings. It was closed today but when we told a man who was working on the building that we would only be here today he invited us to come in. Run by a retired gringo couple, it has some excellent displays of whales, fish, shells, mining, and indian culture of the Baja. We spent and hour or more looking and bought a T-shirt with the museum logo on it. The nice lady at the desk also took our U.S. stamped letters, promising that there was someone who would deliver them to the States on Friday.
From the museum we walked past the deserted central plaza, out the paved highway past the hotel where we bought a few groceries, then down to the RV parks on the beach. We found that most of the RVs are unoccupied, closed up and left while the owners presumably visit warmer climes for the winter. Finding the highly recommended restaurant, Guillermo's, closed, we walked back to the hotel and had passable burritos and quesadillas for lunch. The hotel is nicely appointed but again deserted -- this sure isn't the season for this little resort.
By the time we finished lunch the afternoon wind had started to come up so we headed back to the boat. There's pretty good protection from north winds in the cove at the village; but Lois felt she'd be more comfortable back in our little harbor at Dan Juan so back we went, getting there before the wind had a chance to kick up much in the way of waves. By six o'clock the wind had died again. Looks like we'll have some nice weather for a while.
Rounding the island from the north we spotted the area of light green water identifying the spot with a sand bottom shown on one of our cruising guide sketches. Approaching very carefully this time, we found that over this small area, not more than 100 feet across, there was white sand under about 20 feet of water, but on all sides the water was deeper. I dropped the hook, missing the center of the sand pile, and when we backed off it dragged down into over fifty feet. That's no good, so we tried again. This time I hit the center of the pile and we held, but now we noticed that a strong current was flowing up and over the little sand mountain causing considerable turbulance around the boat as we hung on the lee side. I could see that I wasn't going to be happy in this spot. So, we tried again. Forsaking the sand pile, we moved nearer the shore, dropping our anchor on a rocky bottom but in a place where we would be much less vulnerable to being dragged into deep water.
12:00 Finally settled. Lois fixed some guacamole for lunch, then we went ashore to poke around. On the side of the island to the west of our anchorage there is a spectacular natural sculptural painting. Some trick of nature has formed a sunburst pattern with rock, a hundred feet or more in diameter and almost perfectly circular, with rays of rock spraying outward from the center. From the top of the figure a wide band of igneous rock flows down and around, making a frame for the central painting. I took a lot of pictures of this marvel.
Getting ashore here is a bit of a trick. There is no sandy beach -- the only sand we see is on the little sand pile where we tried to anchor. It must be all that is left of the island's geological heritance of sand -- and we were at low tide and all the rocks on the shore are covered with tiny barnacles, hell on inflatables. I put the anchor in the Metz, Lois wore her rock booties and I my rubber boots. I'd drop the anchor about twenty feet from shore, then we'd go in close enough to step out then pull the boat back out away from the rocks with our pulley arrangement. That worked pretty good for a couple of landings, but then, when Lois was trying to get back in the boat with a couple of handfulls of souvenirs, she slipped on some algae covered rock and went in up to her waist. Fortunately, she wasn't hurt, the sun was warm and the wind calm, so no harm was done. She even laughed about it. I think it's the first time she's been in the salt water for a year.
I went swimming today too, intentionally though. When we got back to the boat I put on my little wet suit and went down to take a look at the keel. I couldn't even find where we'd hit the rock. There is no damage. There are a few scratches on the very bottom of the keel but I think they were there before. The rock we hit at Salsipuedes must have been round and smooth. That's good news. I wanted to check it out before we got to San Carlos; they have haulout facilities in nearby Guaymas if we had needed them, but we don't.
12:00 Anchored between Punta Colorado and Punta Monumento at Tiburon. The books show three good anchorages on the south end of Isla Tiburon and, since we had no first hand knowledge, we decided to stop at the first. It's open to the southwest, but since the sea and breeze were from the northwest we could get in behind a little hook and were quite comfortable. Lois fixed guacamole again -- the last of the avocados was getting old -- and we had lunch, then she started fussing about the fact that the sky in the southwest was getting overcast and a light breeze was coming from that direction. OK, I'm game to see the other anchorages anyway.
13:00 On our way again but we didn't get far before a panga with a fisherman driving and two men in camouflaged uniform with rifles came out of nowhere and flagged us down. One looked like your normal, babyfaced Mexican army boy but the other looked like something out of a grade B western movie. Two or three days growth of dark beard, red bandana around his head, cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, with the automatic rifle slung over his shoulder. he might have been one of Pancho Villa's men. They boarded us, looked at our papers, took a short tour around the boat, and left. As we watched them leave we could see that what we had thought was a deserted bay had an army installation in one cove -- two large trailers set on a low hill with white painted rocks outlining the surrounding area -- and a whole bunch of campers in the next. They had all been hidden by a small point of land between where we had anchored and the rest of the bay.
We ran out and around a small island called Turner where several small sportfishing boats from Keno were still fishing. This is gringo territory, easily accessable by trailer boats from the U.S. At the tip of the island in the tide race there must have been a bunch of forage fish, because we've never seen more birds diving into the water at one time. I think I got some good videos of boobies, pelicans, and gulls all diving pell-mell into the sea after the fish.
14:30 Anchored again, this time in a place protected from all but southeast winds which are very unusual. It's also quieter here, with a long deserted beach, and will be a good departing place for our long run tomorrow, about 85 NM to San Carlos.
07:02 Sunrise, a very pretty one this morning. There was about 80 percent cloud cover in all the right places to let the sun do a really good job. It was barely above the horizon when, off in the distance, I saw the pink tinged, twin spouts of a pair of whales blowing. We had lots of visitors again today -- whales, dolphins, sea lions, and of course the thousands of birds which are always with us. The funny little diving birds which hate to fly are numerous here. When startled by our approach they scuttle away, flying but not flying, beating their wings frantically as they bounce across the surface of the water for a few hundred yards before disappearing.
10:00 I discover a small leak in Gimmy's cooling water line. Tightening a hose clamp a quarter turn seemed to stop it but I'd better add another clamp. We're off Punta Baja now and the shrimpers are out in force on the long, wide shoal which extends ten miles offshore. I count thirteen working. They make a good check on our navigation as we skirt the end of the shoal and turn toward the range of low mountains in the distance. We had originally planned on going all the way into San Carlos but, as I studied the charts, I found that the cruising guide described a small bay called San Pedro about fifteen miles north of there as "a fine anchorage". Since that would cut our travel time by a couple of hours we decided to go there, and do some sightseeing on the way. I'm glad we did. The coastline for about thirty miles north of San Carlos looks to be very nice cruising territory. Dozens of small coves are scattered along the rocky coastline, tucked in between steep, cave pocked and multicolored hills. Once we got past the long, high sand dunes where more shrimpers were working, we were treated to a constantly varied scene, reminiscent of some of the canyon parks of the United States. The shrimpers use two bays just below the sand dunes for their parking area. I counted 22 of them at anchor on either side of a spectacular red rock called Punta Lesna. In some of the bays we saw buildings and truck so they seem to be accessable by road, although it's sure hard to see how. The mountains behind look impassable but now and then we'd see a dirt track lead up a draw. In one bay there is a modern facility which we guessed might have something to do with the shrimp fishery, but it was the only thing which looked like it might be worth building a road to. Tucked into a little cove just north of Punta San Pedro we spotted the first cruising boat we've seen since leaving Coyote, a small sailing vessel. We're nearing civilization again.
16:00 Anchored in Bahia San Pedro, a small, round bay a quarter of a mile across tucked behind high rocks, open only to the southwest. There are two other cruising boats here, the PELICAN and the TINKERBELL, both appear to be of trailerable size with CL registration numbers. I guess that must be Colorado, although I thought its abrieviation was CO - we didn't investigate. There's also a small fish camp where four or five fishermen in two pangas are on the beach. The water isn't very pretty, kind of murky with a lot of floating crud in it, but it's too cold for swimming so that's not a problem.
11:15 We make the right turn at the north end of the bay into the 100 foot wide channel to the marina, pass the gas dock, and spot our slip. It was to be a port tie to the finger with a big party boat on our starboard side. I stood off while we got the lines all set up and fenders on both sides, then had Lois on the starboard side ready to push off the party boat if necessary. The gas "boy", a grey haired Mexican, came over to help with the lines. The space between the finger and the party boat looked awfully narrow -- it's been more than a year since I tried getting into a slip like that -- but I got old SEA RAVEN all lined up and it looked like she'd slip into the hole without touching anything when suddenly she slid to a halt -- we were aground. This time it was mud so I wasn't worried about damage and since I knew it was close to low tide I even tried to push our way in by giving it some throttle. No way, we sure weren't going to get into that slip without more water. We backed off, bumped bottom once more as we tried to go to the gas dock as the Mexican man suggested, then decided to go out into the harbor, anchor, and wait for high tide.
Anchoring in about thirty feet of water, we had lunch then I changed Gimmy's oil, making a mess as I did. I should know better than to try to improve a good thing. For the past several oil changes I haven't spilled a drop, but this time I tried what I thought might be a better drain jug. Well it turned out to hold a little less than the old one so I managed to spill a little old oil into the bilge, then I left the spigot on while I changed the filter and forgot to close it as I added new oil so about a quart of nice fresh oil went into the bilge before I could get it stopped. To top things off, one of my filter wrenches jumped out of its tray and into the bilge and I couldn't find it with the big magnet. Oh well, it won't hurt anything and I'll get it next time I clean the bilge.
After I finished the oil change and cooled off with a cerveza I rigged up a sounding line and went over to the marina to check for myself the depth in the slips. It was now 14:00 when the tide book said we'd have a 0.0 tide. Checking the depth in H-13 I found that the slip had only six feet of water in it and just outside, where we had stopped, there was only five. That's just too shallow for us. We could handle being aground by six inches or maybe even a foot, but a foot and a half would make us lean too much. I went up to the marina and talked to a nice young man who told me which other slips were available and I checked those also. None had enough water for us. The biggest boat in the marina must not draw more than five feet.
Back at the boat I commiserated with Lois. We had two reasons for wanting to be on a dock: (1) We were thinking of leaving the boat for a trip to Copper Canyon and didn't want to empty the freezer of all our good meats; and (2) I want to check Gimmy's exhaust pipe which has been showing some signs of being plugged with rust and I didn't want to be hanging on the hook with no means of propulsion while doing it. Gimmy's exhaust line is a complicated affair, all wrapped in asbestos and fiberglass, and I might run into delays in getting it repaired. We decided to not decide just yet. Instead, we went ashore and used the phone at the marina to call Dad -- He says he and Mom are doing great -- and Kristy and Bob who are also sounding chipper. Bob has started radiation treatments which will go on until early April. Tried calling Nan but got no answer. Dad says Paul and Eleanor's schedule calls for them to be home tomorrow so we'll try them then. Maybe by then we'll have figured out a program for ourselves.
To get her calmed down I took her a ways down the highway to a place I'd found called Banana's where we could get a margarita with our lunch. By the time she'd finished a couple of those and eaten some good burritos she was feeling better. We found that it was re-opening day for Banana's, the owner, Walt, was there, a friendly, talkative guy, who told us that he been burned out on the 30th of January and that this was his first day back in business. The original Banana's had a tall palapa roof which of course burned so now there are just the walls, nicely repaired and repainted, plus a tent roof, metal tables and chairs leant to him by the Tecate company. He plans to rebuild the roof if and when the insurance money comes through. He's an interesting guy, an amateur archeologist, he's very familiar with the indian tribes who lived in this area. He gave us some useful info on Copper Canyon and surprisingly told us that this is the high season there -- I'd thought that summertime would be the popular time for the high country. He recommended staying in the El Dorado Motel in Los Moches because they will provide early morning transportation to the train station.
From Banana's we walked across the street to a place called the Rock Shop where we got all carried away with buying things. A funny little Mexican guy with big round glasses and a neat sense of humor had a great selection of semi-precious stones, jewelry, and replicas of pre-columbian pottery and figures. We ended up spending about a $200 on his junk. Deciding we needed to replenish our money supply, we walked from there to the bank which turned out to be closed but there we met a nice old guy who lives on the golf course who gave us a ride back to the grocery store at the end of the road. We had enough money left to buy a few groceries then stopped at the marina to call Sis and Paul but they didn't answer so we called John in Seattle and told him to tell Nancy to tell them that we might want them to come to Guaymas rather than La Paz. Keeping track of we wandering retirees is a problem!
Back at the boat we talked to the skipper of a ninety foot power boat called the BERT & I who had checked out another marina just across the hill in the next bay to the north. He thinks they may have slips that would have enough water for us. We may check that out in the morning.
On the way back we decided that we'd better take advantage of the clean water and make some for our tank -- I'm not sure now we'll ever get on a dock here -- so we got the HRO going and took a tour of the big bay south of San Carlos called San Francisco. It's about five miles across with the town of San Carlos lining the west shore, a resort complex called Playa Miramar at Bocachibampo on the east, and a long, clean, white sand beach in between. With several small islands in the bay and the rugged mountains all around, it's about as scenic a bay as you'll find anywhere, much like I imagine Acapulco was before the development began. I'm sure that someday high-rises will line the beach from one end to the other.
Back at Bahia San Carlos, we anchored then went ashore. I was hoping to find someone to talk to about our exhaust. I didn't find anybody like that but we did meet some nice people on a boat named WINDY, Warren and Dee, who volunteered to drive us to Guaymas for help if we needed it. Warren also said that we could use a friend's mooring next to his if we wanted. That might be what we'll have to do if we can't get into a slip. We went out to dinner at Ceasar's Burger. Not very high class, but clean, not bad food, and very handy just in front of the marina.
Our projects for the day were to get money and to continue investigation of our options for mooring so we caught the bus into San Carlos to the Banamex there. The last couple of cash advances at Banamex have been totally painless, but this time the nice young man took my card and said that I'd have to come back for the money at 12:30. That made me a little nervous -- don't like to have my charge card floating around loose -- but there wasn't much we could do about it if we wanted pesos so we had a couple of hours to kill. We caught another bus back to the marina, called Idaho Falls where we finally found Paul at home, gave him the word about coming here rather than to La Paz, then went back to the boat where we found Bill anchored and sails flying, drying before being stowed. We just had time for a cerveza before turning around and heading for the bank again. The money was ready as promised. It seems that here in gringoville they have so many requests for cash advances that they save them all for a single call to the U.S. to get authorization. That's the reason for the wait. There were about six other people there and all the cards were in a little stack with the authorization numbers attached.
On the way back from the bank we stopped by WINDY and talked to Warren about the mooring buoy next to his which he said was unused for a few days and he offered to take me over to Marina Real to see the guy who owned the mooring. I wasn't sure I really wanted the mooring -- it's crowded awfully close to other boats -- but thought the ride over the hill would be interesting so took him up on the offer. It was. After winding through a small residential suburb of San Carlos the road ducks through a narrow valley and pops out at Algodones Bay, probably not much more than a mile from where we're anchored. What took us an hour yesterday in the boat we did in five minutes in his van today. Al, the mooring owner, was gone to San Diego but we talked to a Guy named Dave who has one of the beautiful new homes at the marina with a 57 foot power vessel named ARIZONA parked in front. He suggested that we might save time and money by having the Navarro Boat Yard rework our exhaust system -- something to consider.
In the evening we had Warren, Dee, and Bill over for drinks then all went to dinner at a place called El Terrazo where we got very good food at a very reasonable price. Turns out that both Bill and Warren are Bonanza pilots -- Warren owns an H model -- so we heard lots of flying stories including Bill's about flying the North Atlantic in his machine. Nice evening, nice folks.
The dinghy ride back to SEA RAVEN was the most exciting part of the day. After dropping Warren off at his boat I moved up to the seat to drive, worried that a gust would pick up the front of the Metz and flip it. The wind was from the south, staight into the entrance to the bay and big waves were rolling in, their tops being blown off by the wind. It was raining so hard that it stung my face and I could hardly see where I was going. About 200 yards from the SEA RAVEN the Johnson coughed -- I was getting tossed around so much that the fuel pickup had gotten exposed. I was afraid it was going to quit and I'd have never been able to row the inflatable against that wind, but it kept going and Lois grabbed the painter as I came along side.
It was surprising how fast the storm stopped. One minute it was blowing and pouring rain, the next the wind died and a spot of blue appeared in the sky. In less than an hour the sky was almost cloudless with only the glassy swells rolling into the bay to show for the storm. About that time the marina put out a call on the radio saying that a boat had broken loose from it's mooring and was on the rocks. The girl on the radio asked anyone who could to help. I didn't think I'd better go without putting some gas in the Metz, so Lois and I were doing that when a boatload of guys from the marina showed up hunting for the boat in distress. I pointed it out to them across the bay and by the time I got there they already had a line on it. Three other dinghies had responded to the call and in no time at all we had the boat, a thirty-plus foot sailboat, off the rocks and being towed to another mooring. It didn't look like any serious damage had been done.
I'd just gotten back and settled down with my book when Dick came by. Saying that he'd been unable to get the engine started on the little sailboat in his care, he asked if I'd help him tow it to a mooring with our dinghies. Como no? I went over and helped him get the anchor up, actually two anchors in tandem, one CQR and then a small danforth. The chain wouldn't go down the hawse pipe so we had to pile it on the deck. Towing the boat to the mooring went OK but then Dick asked if I'd help him stow the chain and that was a real job. He had to get below deck and pull it down a little at a time into a midship locker while I fed it down the pipe. The chain was rusty and crud covered and by the time we got though he looked like a coal miner and I was pretty well splattered.
We'd invited Bill to have dinner with us on the boat and when I went ot pick him up at 5:00 he was just about finished with his travel preparations. I helped him deflate and load his dinghy in his pickup then talked to some fishermen who had been out today while he took a shower. I was surprised that anyone had been out today, but these guys, who said they'd both gotten sick, had a few fillets in their bag. They told me that the sportfishing outfit near the marina had facilities for freezing fish -- they might keep our frozen things for us while we go to Copper Canyon. The final good deed for the day came when, on the way back to the boat, a shrimper waved me down and asked if we had any coffee to spare. El Capitan said that the seas were really big outside; they'd been six hours coming from Bahia Colorado just 25 miles north of here. Lois fixed up a small bag of coffee and I took it over to them. They in turn gave me a nice pile of halibut fillets. We haven't caught much but our fishing luck has been really good lately. More?