Espiritu Santo and Partida Islands

One of our goals this season is to spend much more time in the water. When we arrived in La Paz we found that the sea temperature was still hovering around eighty degrees, so on the first available weekend we left the comfort of the marina and made the short 22 mile trip up to Isla Espiritu Santos for some quiet time at anchor and to spend some time in the crystal clear waters.

Departing the La Paz channel in calm conditions

The islands directly to the north of La Paz are a national park preserve and require a park pass to visit. The use of the islands is regulated to preserve them as a natural place for the public to enjoy. There are no towns or settlements aside from a few small fishermen’s camps. Local tour companies run pangas of small groups of people (4-12) out to the islands to find an isolated beach for their passengers to enjoy. From the air, the west side of Espiritu Santo looks like a roosters’s comb with many narrow and deep inlets making for dozens of isolated anchorages. While there are some coves that are popular, especially on weekends, there is almost always a secluded place to drop the anchor and have the entire beach to yourself.

Our first weekend out to the islands we decided to try a place we had passed by many times last year but never actually stopped in – Ensenada Candeleros. It’s one of the larger bays on Espiritu Santo, but it’s bisected by an island and string of reefs running from shore toward the mouth of the bay. I was intrigued by the protected reefs inside the bay and figured this would be a great place to try out our new paddle board and do some snorkeling.

We left Marina de La Paz on Friday evening a couple of hours before dark. It was just enough time to get from the marina out of the La Paz channel (which takes almost an hour by itself) and up to the next anchorage Bahia Pichilingue. We motored north in calm conditions and turned into the bay just before sunset. We didn’t go ashore here, but we could see the hotel, ferry terminal, and a beach restaurant along the shore. Cell reception was good here and we commented that this would be a good alternative to La Paz if we wanted to get away from the city but still be connected.

Checking our anchoring location at Playa Pichilingue

Saturday morning we started north again toward Espiritu Santo which was now just a couple of hours away. I started up the water maker again as we motored north in the calm morning seas. By mid morning we were rounding the point and entering Candelero.

“Where do you want to be?” I asked Kristin.

This has become a bit of a ritual whenever we arrive at an anchorage that offers a range of choices for where to anchor ourselves. Sometimes the decision hinges on which way the wind is blowing or where the swells are coming from, which side of the bay offers better protection, or more convenient access, or in a busy anchorage where is there space available and are there any boats we want to be close to or far from.

Sonrisa at anchor in Ensenada Candeleros

“It looks like there’s powerboat and sailboat sections,” I commented as I noticed about 9 powerboats anchored on the south end of the bay and about 4 sailboats on the north end. We’ve noticed this in other anchorages as well. I think it happens for many different reasons. In a shallow anchorage the shallow-draft powerboats (and some catamarans) group closer in to shore than the deeper draft keelboats. Or sometimes boats hosting parties attract other like-minded partiers while repelling others looking for quiet. Often cruising sailboats know one another and may be traveling together which further ‘sorts’ the anchorage.

“Let’s go to the north side, on the other side of that catamaran,” Kristin declared. “It’s probably better protection from northerlies there, right?” One of the common challenges of cruising the Gulf of California in winter is the threat of ‘northers’ which are strong winds that originate in the four-corners area of the southwest US and fiercely blow down the entire gulf for days like a wind-tunnel. The effect of the wind on the confined sea builds the seas into short steep seas making any passages uncomfortable at best, dangerous and intolerable at worst.

We weren’t expecting any northers. It’s a bit early in the year for that. They usually startup around late November though.

“How’s this?” I asked as I gave Sonrisa’s throttle a burst in reverse to bring us to a stop in 18 feet of water between the catamaran and the rocky cliff on the shore to the north.

“Perfect!” Kristin replied as she scanned the surroundings from our position.

“Ok. Hand signals.” This is my queue to Kristin that I’m giving the helm over to her, but I’m still in command by giving her hand signals to indicate directions as I release the anchor from the bow. This is an important detail. Whoever is at the bow and is responsible for the anchor is the one who should be directing the boat as that person is best positioned to see where the anchor chain is in relationship to the boat. That person then direct the boats movements to lay out the anchor chain an a controlled fashion and avoid running over it.

Kristin does a great job following the hand signals we’ve devised. If I want her to drive forward I make a chopping motion with a bent arm over my head with my arm in the direction I want her to drive. If I want her to put the engine in neutral I hold up a fist on a bent arm. For reverse I make a backward chopping motion with my bent arm facing downward. When we’re pulling the anchor up and we’re directly on top of it and it’s about to let loose I hold my arm straight up to as a warning that we’re letting go of the bottom. And finally once the anchor is out of the water and I’m handing command back to her I swirl my arm around in circles above my head to indicate she can turn wherever she needs to go to get us outta there.

I ran though our typical procedure for dropping the anchor. Keeping the boat relatively still while the anchor drops, then getting it to drift back slightly as we let out chain until we get to about a 3:1 scope (75 feet of chain for 25 feet depth) at which point I have Kristin put the boat in neutral and we sit and let things settle for a moment as the slack is taken up in the chain from the drift of the boat. Then I return to the helm for the ‘set.’

“I’m watching the island and the hill behind it.” Kristin reported. 

“I’m watching that cactus and the rock behind it.” I replied.

This has also become an automatic response for us. As we put the engine in reverse we watch a pair of fixed points, one near and one far, to determine when we stop moving and to verify as we bear down on the anchor to set it that we’re still not moving.

I put the engine in reverse at idle and wait for the anchor chain to go tight. In a few moments we watch Sonrisa’s bow suddenly turn slightly to one side and we feel a soft halt to our backward momentum. Still in reverse, I increase the throttle to about 1/3 and we both watch our fixed points for a minute or two. No movement. Increase the throttle to 2/3 and wait and watch. No movement. Finally I bring the throttle up to near cruising speed in reverse and wait again. No movement. Satisfied that the anchor is firmly dug in on a mere 3:1 scope, I then return to the bow and let out the amount of chain necessary for the anchorage and conditions, usually somewhere around 5:1 to 7:1.

Sonrisa at anchor

Once anchored, we enjoyed a light lunch in the cockpit and afterward pulled out our new inflatable paddle board to try for the first time. We rolled it out on the bow and hooked up the electric inflation pump and in no time it was ready to go. I tied a line on the bow and picked it up by the center handle and threw it over the rail. Splash!

“Did you just throw that in? I thought someone fell overboard!” Kristin said with a startle.

“Much easier to launch than the dinghy, huh?” I asked with a smile.

“Much.” Kristin agreed.

“Let’s start with the kayak paddle.” I said as Kristin returned to the cabin for the paddles.

We ordered a few accessories for our new paddle board and one of them was an extra blade that attached to the handle-end of the paddle to convert it to a kayak paddle. I’ve seen many people ride their paddle boards like a flat kayak and it seemed like a good option.

I stepped aboard the paddle board and the first thing I noticed was how wiggly it felt under foot. I centered my weight and tested it shifting side to side and found the board to be very stable in reality, but a little wiggly in the ripples of the water.

Kristin handed me the paddle and in a moment I was touring the anchorage on our paddle board.

As I was padding past the charter catamaran FOGO, the skipper flagged me down and let me know that they are trying to get a hold of their friends on Luna Azul, but they don’t seem to be receiving them. I remembered hearing them call earlier in the day and said we’d keep our radio on and listen for them.

Sure enough a short time later, we heard Luna Azul calling FOGO calling each other but they couldn’t hear each other. I got on the radio and relayed to Luna Azul that FOGO was anchored next to us but their radio seemed to be malfunctioning. After some confusion over which boat they were actually talking to, they finally understood what I was relaying and gave them directions on where to find their friends.

After a couple of more test laps on the paddle board Kristin climbed aboard and we rode around the anchorage again 2-up kayak style. Seated, it felt very comfortable and stable and surprisingly dry in relatively calm conditions.

We paddled ashore to check out the beach and discovered a 1/2 mile marked trail that headed up into an arroyo. The sign at the trailhead described the features along the trail including a well, rock formations, a grove of trees and a cave.

It was getting hot ashore, so we returned to the beach and started paddling back to Sonrisa. 

In the mid-day heat it suddenly seemed urgent to go for a swim.

As we paddled past FOGO confirmed that their friends found them and wanted to invite us over for sundowners at 5:15. I told them we’re looking forward to it!

We assembled our snorkeling gear and got back on the paddle board to check out some places that looked good.

We found a group of rocks that formed a calm pool near the rocky shore. I tethered the paddle board to a rock and we slid off the side of the board into the water. The first half second seemed cold, but we immediately acclimated and in a moment the water felt perfect. We snorkeled in and around that pool and saw many colorful small tropical fish. Schools of sergeant majors gathered around us fearlessly. An occasional angel fish darted by. Larger reef fish kept their distance and starfish and urchins worked the rocks oblivious to our presence.

After checking out one spot, we got back on the board and paddled to the island and reef in the center of the cove. There we towed the paddle board and circumnavigated the small island snorkeling. In the shallow reef there we saw a large and beautiful striped eel. Seeing us approach it snaked its way inside a hollowed out rock. We watched in amazement as one part of its body appeared in one hole as another part slid by another hole. It looked like it was tying itself in a knot inside that rock!

It was there I also saw a colorful ‘crown of thorns’ starfish as well as a big red starfish.

We spent the better part of the day in an out of the water enjoying this magical place from both vantage points.

That evening we stress-tested our paddle board by loading all three of us up and paddling the 300 or so feet over to FOGO for sundowners. There we met many new friends and had great conversations about the cruising life.

The next day we spent even more time on the paddle board and in the water with so much to see just in this one cove. We returned to La Paz already looking forward to our next chance to visit the islands.

Isla Partida

Inspired by the incredible time we had at Espiritu Santo, I decided to take an extra day and return to the islands on Friday, this time heading further north to Isla Partida. We thought we’d try a new anchorage this time and headed to Ensenada Cardonal which is a long narrow inlet that almost divides Partida in two. It is supposed to be a decent anchorage, but due to the topography, the wind can often howl through the anchorage. On the way past Espiritu Santo we saw our friends on Harmony had arrived from San Carlos and were tucked in a nice little anchorage with Lea Hona.

As we passed the point to enter into Cardonal it seemed that it was windier in the anchorage that it was outside! We made our way to the head of the bay where there was one other sailboat anchored. Even close in there were little whitecaps on the water as the wind meter showed 10 to 15 knots.

“Maybe it will die down?” Kristin hoped aloud.

“Maybe after dark. But until then I wouldn’t want to paddle board around in this wind,” I countered. “I think we should try somewhere else.”

“How about Partida?” Kristin offered as an alternative.

“Might be busy there. I’d like to try something new. How about Cardoncito just next door? The book says it’s just big enough for one or two boats. We might get lucky if no one is there.”

“Sounds good! Let’s try it!” Kristin agreed.

The tiny entrance to Cardoncito

We held our breath as we rounded the point separating Cardonal from Cardoncito. Would it be empty?

“So far so good,” I said as the cove started to reveal itself.

“It’s empty!” Kristin exclaimed as the beach at the head of the cove came into view.

We carefully motored into the narrow cove and took several circles in 19 feet of water as we tried to center Sonrisa between the tall cliff walls.  Finally, we dropped the anchor and settled into our spot. We had the cove to ourselves.

We tossed the paddle board in and made a quick trip ashore. We saw an arroyo that winds up the valley at the head of Cardoncito  so we followed up to to see if there was another trail like there was at Candelero. There was evidence of a trail and we even found another well, but the trail was pretty rocky and we didn’t feel ambitious enough to go bouldering in our shorts and beach sandals.

We spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing in the tranquility of our private cove and enjoyed a sunset dinner from the cockpit.

The next morning we decided to break out the inflatable dinghy and outboard to explore some of the surrounding area. As we were launching the dinghy a large charter catamaran came in and anchored between us and the beach in the shallower water. We watched and hoped that it wouldn’t mean a boatload of partiers and loud music all day/night.

Once the dinghy was launched we zoomed out to the reef that extends 500 feet from the point and separates Cardondito from the popular anchorage of Caleta Partida. As we approached we saw another inflatable off the reef with two snorkelers getting into the water. We stopped and chatted a bit about good snorkeling spots before continuing on to Caleta Partida.

At Partida we went ashore and crossed the isthmus to the east side of the island. It’s always so interesting to compare the calm sandy beaches of the west side to the windswept and rocky east side.

On the return trip we circled through the anchorage checking out the shore and looking for other potentially good snorkeling spots until we returned to the reef where we tossed an anchor over and I jumped with my mask and fins to check out the reef neighborhood. I saw many of the same types of fish as we did at Candelero but more starfish. I started swimming further out toward the end of the reef when I noticed my mask seemed to get foggy. I paused for a moment and realized it wasn’t fog but rather a cloud of tiny translucent jellyfish. For a moment I was concerned that I was going to be stung from head to toe as they were literally everywhere, but it seemed that these little guys were benign. Nevertheless I abandoned my attempt to swim to the end of the reef and returned to the dinghy.

On returning to the anchorage, we saw that yet another boat was moving in on our little cove. This one was a large powerboat that had to anchor at the entrance to the cove as there was no room left with us and the catamaran for a third boat.

“Did you still want to go ashore?” I asked pointing to the beach tents and umbrellas being erected on the beach by paid crew from the two other boats. We had planned to have a picnic lunch on the beach after our dinghy ride.

“We should go stake out a spot before they take it all over.” Kristin was undeterred.

We gathered our beach chairs and lunchbox size cooler and went ashore to stake our claim to the beach. The group off the catamaran turned out to be a very polite Mexican family who quietly enjoyed some amazing looking catered lunches as their kids played in the water and on their paddle boards. The group off the powerboat turned out to be a group of Americans visiting for the week. They also had catered food and several coolers of refreshments, but they also had a powerful boom box blasting out American dance music for the benefit of the entire anchorage. It must have been quite amusing to see us picnic with our two folding chairs (there’s three of us) and lunchbox sized cooler as we tried to enjoy the beach. I’ll never understand why people feel compelled to bring their own entertainment rather than experience what the destination offers by itself. It seems like some people just want to recreate their bar scene with a different view. Maybe next time I should haul a projector and speakers ashore and watch the football game from the beach! Makes about as much sense to me.

Thankfully everyone in that group (by their own admission) had started drinking well before noon, so by dinner time they were all pretty tired and there wasn’t much more commotion from them once they returned to their boat for the evening and we all had a quiet and pleasant evening in the anchorage.

After returning to Sonrisa, Kristin and I went out for another round of exploring the cove by paddleboard and snorkeling.

The next morning I woke up by 7 in order to catch the Amigo Net on the sideband radio. We can’t hear anything while we’re in the marina due to all of the electrical noise so I always look forward to participating in the net while we can. I went outside to check the conditions to report on the net and saw that the catamaran had left and it was now just us and the power boat. On the radio net I checked in and gave our information: where we are anchored, the local weather conditions, how many other boats are there, and any other interesting information. After giving our checkin I heard a familiar voice on the radio. Robert on Harmony gave their checkin from a couple of anchorages south and noted that while we got a power boat with maybe 8 people, they got two mega-yachts with lots of people in their anchorage. After the net Harmony called us on the radio and asked if there was room. With the catamaran gone there was room, but I also warned him about the power boat beach party but also noted that they were quiet overnight and I think they’re probably leaving soon.

Sure enough by the time Harmony arrived with their friends on Liahona the powerboat had cleared out and there was plenty of room for all three of us. Shortly after everyone got their anchors down both Brett and Marne from Leah Hona and Robert and Virginia from Harmony dinghied over to say hi. We invited them all over for margaritas (Kellye make killer margaritas) just before sundown. We were very excited to be able to host for the first time in a very long while!

Harmony at anchor

That evening we made some new friends from Leah Hona and caught up with Robert and Virginia. We all sat comfortably in Sonrisa’s semi-circular cockpit and enjoyed multiple conversations as the sun set on the anchorage. Shortly after dark everyone returned to their respective boats and we all settled in for a good night’s sleep after a wonderful day at anchor. We planned to depart before sunrise to get back to La Paz by mid-morning so morning would be coming all too soon.

Kellye the bartender making her killer margaritas

Late that night I was woken by a gust of wind that set Sonrisa spinning on her anchor as the anchor snubber lines creaked and groaned in protest. Then stillness. Then another gust from a different direction hit, spinning us in another direction as the lines creaked and groaned again. This went on through the rest of the night as the three boats at anchor swayed to and fro in the gusts. I went up on deck a couple of times to confirm what the Anchor Alarm was showing that we’re solidly anchored and swinging on our chain. I also saw lights on Leah Hona and Harmony at some point as they were doing the same.

5:00 came and it was still blowing 10-15 with unpredictable gusts in the anchorage. I took a quick look to confirm on deck and went back below. As I crawled back into bed Kristin asked, “Is it time to go?”

“No, it’s windy and it’s dark. Let’s at least wait until it’s light out so we can see what we’re doing,” I replied, pulling the covers over me.

“Sounds good.” Kristin sleepily replied as she quickly drifted back to sleep.

By 6:00 there was enough daylight to see around the anchorage. After a quick engine check Sonrisa was fired up and ready to depart.

“Hand signals,” I started, “I’ll pause when we’re right on top of the anchor and raise my arm straight up as it’s coming up. Once we’re loose do what you need to do if we start drifting before I get the anchor all the way up. I’ll give the signal once it’s up and go ahead and get us clear of the anchorage. Just remember where that reef is and stay clear of that. It’s on the chart.”

“Got it.” Kristin confirmed.

Within a few moments the anchor was up and Kristin was safely piloting us past the reef on our way back to La Paz.

Good teamwork.

And just for kicks here’s a video of pufferfish from the beach at Partida.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *