No Sleep For Tom - La Cruz to La Paz

We left La Cruz on Wednesday April 3, and after a very windy and lumpy first afternoon/evening the sea state calmed down enough, around midnight, to make for a fairly comfortable passage. That first evening, while conditions were still rowdy, Tom discovered that the quality of dinner is directly related to the comfort of the chef, hee.

Unfortunately, our lovely breeze came to a screeching halt and we had to use the iron jib to continue. Also, we had to stay well clear of some prison colony islands (Isla Marias), lest we be seized by the authorities. Thursday and Friday we had very little breeze (as in practically NONE), but the seas were amazingly flat and comfortable, and the turbo diesel motor hummed away.

Tostadas and Tecate, prepared by a comfy and therefore happy chef, Day 2.

Friday was a busy day for us. The wee early morning (I'm talking midnight on) was gorgeous and clear; there was no moon and the sky was filled with stars so bright the Milky Way (Vía Láctea) seemed to mirror the phosphorescence of our stern wake. Tom said he had been joined by a pod of dolphins huffing and jumping next to him during his watch. I prefer the sunrise watch and came up about 06:00 as the sky began to lighten from indigo blue to shades of gray. Every day Tom had faithfully set out the fishing lines, and every day his disappointment grew as we had several nips and tugs, three lost lures, but no real bites. 

Sad, biteless fishing lines (1200 miles - no fish caught).

This morning, as I eyeballed the hand lines tucked away in their mesh pockets,  I decided things would be different! Instead of enjoying my morning breakfast tea, I set my mug aside, grabbed the three hand lines, played out the lures and secured the bitter ends to the boat cleats.

A short time later, so short I'd only just sipped my tea, one of the lines went taut! A moment later the second line snapped taught and I could see a silver splash in the water behind us. A double hookup. "Fish on!!" I yelled to Tom who had barely shut his eyes. He was up in a flash and we started reeling in the first fish. "Wahoo!" (The fish AND the cheer.) We were ecstatic as wahoo (ono) is one of our favorite fishes, and we knew it was likely wahoo that had previously stricken and stolen our three lost lures. The sun hadn't even risen yet!

We were warned not to bring a live wahoo onto the boat, they fight with their razor sharp teeth (thank you Chamberlains!), so Tom gleefully gaffed the sucker at the stern and impaled its brain with the fillet knife for a quick death.

Tom looks scarily happy

Alas, while landing the first one, we lost the second wahoo, but we (well I) were more than content with our 30+ pounder. Tally as of Friday, Wahoo - 4 (three lures and one escape), Cinnabar - 1. We'll work on improving that ratio.

At last!! A wahoo (ono) aboard.

Fish fillet yoga...Cuidado! (warning!)...don't waste any meat...don't make a slimey mess.

It took a while to fillet the fish, and by now Tom was too jacked up to sleep even though he tried. Well, to be fair, he did go off-watch below to shut his eyes but we immediately got another bite and it was "Fish on!!!" all over again. Unfortunately, this one was the odious Skipjack (catfood like meat) so Tom released it back into the ocean to swim away. By now sleep seemed hopeless so Tom spent a good part of the day talking about losing that second wahoo and what we should do next time to get BOTH fish on board. Not sure what we'll do if all three lines get fish!

We could see land again off to our left, Los Cabos/East Cape, and we were anticipating our next big hurdle, the dreaded Canal Cerralvo, where the wind, waves, and currents are notoriously challenging.

Not this day, though.

Placid conditions at the East Cape, southern tip of Baja

It was laughably calm, and as we motored through the channel between the cape and Cerralvo Island, we saw whale spouts and splashes, pods of dolphins leaping toward us, and at least a hundred Mobula rays leaping out of the water and flapping their fins.

The "dreaded" San Lorenzo Channel leading into La Paz was more of the same calm, flat seas. It was early evening, and we rounded the cape and motored into the crowded Puerto Balandra anchorage for the evening.

We dropped the hook and I went for a snorkel around the boat while Tom decided to clean the boat bottom (freediving). I was ready for happy hour but clearly he was still in the mood to Not Rest. He stayed in the water until he was so chilled he had to take a hot shower to warm up enough for a cold beer.

The water is not yet warmed up - wetsuit and hood required.

I mentioned that Balandra was crowded (12+ boats). Oddly, just before sunset, all the boats except 4 left the anchorage. What was going on here? An hour or so later the wind started picking up and we knew we were about to experience the famous Coromuel winds, which are strong Southerlies that whip across the Baja Peninsula.... at night. Naturally we were in angst about our anchor, would it hold? Would we drift and get dashed upon the rocks or stuck on the beach? We didn't actually go on anchor watch, but both Tom and I set our watches to wake up every couple of hours to check our position. Still no sleep for Tom, although I slept very well between every hour when I would wake up to check our location.

The anchor held even though the winds howled all night long, and this was not the first time we were glad we replaced our 65' anchor chain with the 150' chain. One boat, a big power launch, did drag and have to pull up its anchor to re-set. The positive side about the Coromuels, there were no insects or mosquitoes that night, yay!!

I finally got up around 7:00 Saturday morning and the winds were still up, blowing a sustained 26 knots for about an hour, the Coromuel's last hurrah before the land started heating up after sunset.

The winds beating our flags to death in the a.m.

The winds finally abated later that morning and after Tom finished cleaning Cinnabar's bottom we headed into Marina Palmira in La Paz. We had the friendliest greeting in the world by Felipe, the guy who pumped our fuel, and an easy check-in with Daisy at the marina office. No wonder this place was so highly recommended to us. We hired Felipe to wash our boat the next day and he did a terrific job.

Felipe on a styrofoam raft.

We spent today re-provisioning, reminiscing about our first bare-boating adventures here over 20 years ago, and walking along the malecon to downtown La Paz. We were impressed by the numerous parks and all the trees that are planted along the streets which is very unlike most cities we have visited so far.

Lots of trees in La Paz, including at the (oddly empty) skateboard park

The old port entrance which we remember from 20 years ago.

Tomorrow, Monday, we leave for Loreto and Bahia Concepcion to hook up with the McGuires, friends from our old diving days who now live in Colorado.

More pictures of our crossing and La Paz can be found HERE.

In my last blog post I forgot to add the link to photos of our last couple of days in La Cruz. They are HERE.

And no, we have not forgotten everyone's great dinghy name suggestions. They are all under consideration and we've even gotten a couple of recent suggestions.

Cinnarolls? Coffee shop in La Paz  with an interesting name

(Passage stats: 374 nm, 55 hrs (51 hrs motor, 4 hrs sail), avg speed 6.8 kts)