Reaching to La Paz
We departed San Carlos at noon for our overnight run to La Paz. We had debated for a few days whether to take the shorter crossing heading southwest roughly perpendicular to the Gulf of California for 80 miles to Santo Domingo and from there follow the coast of Baja southeast to La Paz, or to head directly south for Agua Verde, some 140 miles away and be within two easy day-sails to La Paz.
I consulted PredictWind forecasts repeatedly and finally the night before our departure over tacos at La Calaca we made the call. Rather than two shorter night passages from San Carlos to Santo Domingo, then Santo Domingo to Agua Verde, we would make a single overnight run to Agua Verde. I calculated the passage should take right around 24 hours and this would give us an extra half-day of rest at Aqua Verde before our final two day-sail legs to La Paz. Plus the forecast was calling for 12-18 knots from the west which would put us on a beam-reach rather than driving upwind for the crossing. With our extra crewmate Kellye onboard it should make the passage much easier as we will all get 8 hours “off watch” rather than the usual 3 when it’s just Kristin and me.
After the last minute re-commissioning repairs were complete I ran up to the marina office to pay our bill and check out which also checks us out with the port captain. The morning was calm but in recent days I noticed that the wind picks up in the afternoons. Sure enough, by the time I got back to Sonrisa the wind had piped up and was blowing a solid 12 knots in the harbor, directly on our stern. I sized up the situation as little white-caps lapped Sonrisa’s stern and remembered our friends Doug and Anna’s offer to help us get into our slip the day before.
“Let’s see if Karuna is around to help us get off the dock.” I called out to Kristin and Kellye as they waited to see if we were ready to start slipping lines.
“Karuna, Karuna, this is Sonrisa on 22,” I called on the VHF to our friends Doug and Anna on SV Karuna, Sonrisa’s sister ship.
“This is Karuna, go ahead Sonrisa…” Anna called back.
We were in luck. In a few minutes Doug and Anna bicycled over from the other side of the marina and immediately understood our desire for some extra hands. Like all full-keel boats Sonrisa doesn’t want to back-up in a straight line and it’s always a bit of a mystery which way she’ll decide to turn. Sometimes the prop-walk dominates and she turns to port, other times the bow windage wins and she turns to starboard.
“Bad timing huh,” Doug offered.
“Yeah, it was dead calm 30 minutes ago.” I lamented.
Sonrisa bobbed in her slip like a horse impatient for the stable door to open as I formulated the plan to get off the dock. Sonrisa was on a starboard tie with another boat to port and a 12 knot wind blowing up her rear.
“Ok, Kristin get up on deck on starboard to catch lines, then go help Kellye on port. Kellye take the port side with the boat hook and be ready to fend off if we get blown to port. Anna take our stern line and walk us back and toss it to Kristin. Doug take our bow line and give it a pull as we back out to get the stern going to port. Ready?”
“Ready!”
I pushed the shifter into reverse as Doug and Anna walked our lines back. Doug gave our bow one last tug before tossing Kristin the line and shouting, “Clear!”
I gave the throttle a solid burst in reverse as Sonrisa pushed her rear into the wind, still sliding to port as we had hoped.
Once clear of the dock, the next challenge was to get her turned the rest of the 90 degrees without getting blown sideways into the row of boats we just backed out of.
I maintained reverse until we started to run out of room behind us, at which point I turned the wheel hard to starboard, shifted into forward and gave it a near full-throttle burst. The wash of the prop on the rudder pushed Sonrisa’s stern to port as it stopped our reverse momentum. I kept on the throttle and bow started turning to starboard as she started moving back toward the docks. Then another strong thrust in reverse to back into the wind and walk the stern to port, followed by a forward thrust. It makes quite a commotion working the throttle like this, but the net effect is that Sonrisa slowly turns within a very short space. We often get curious onlookers, but it is in fact the proper technique for backing a full-keel boat called “back and fill.” Another cruiser once came over to comment on our skill. He was on deck with some guests watching us come in and his guests worried that we were perhaps in trouble or needed help. “Nope,” he told them, “that’s exactly what he needs to do to handle that kind of boat.”
Doug and Anna knew it too. They stood on the end of the dock and watched for a moment to make sure we were going to make the turn, but once we were past 45 degrees they knew we were fine.
We motored out of Marina San Carlos into spirited winds finally back into the Gulf of California after a long summer ashore.
We quickly raised the sails to steady the boat and take advantage of the wind.
“Are you going to start with a reef?” Kristin asked.
“Yeah, I think we’ll start with a single reef in the main and just the staysail. These winds seem stronger than forecast.”
This is a sail combination we would use pretty much all summer long in San Francisco Bay and is one of our favorites. It’s enough sail to still be effective in 12 knots, we can simply roll out the yankee to add a third sail if the wind gets lighter than 10, but with the reduced main balanced with the staysail we’re comfortable at least up to 25 knots and with the staysail she’s easy to tack like a sloop.
I had hoped that the stronger-than-expected winds were somewhat of a land effect which does happen around San Carlos because of the topography. But my hopes were unfounded as the wind started building the further out we ventured into the Gulf of California. Before long our expected 12 to 18 knots of wind were more like 18 to 25 with gusts to 30 and the expected 3 foot seas were more like 6 foot. All this and Kristin and I had been on dry land for the last several months!
I was the first to start to feel a little queasy, then I think I set Kristin off. Fortunately Kellye was rock solid the entire passage, although none of us wanted anything to eat that afternoon.
Sonrisa, on the other hand, was in her element. Perfectly balanced on a beam reach with the Monitor windvane doing all of the steering, she ripped through the sloppy seas effortlessly and without so much as a single creak or groan of displeasure.
The winds built throughout the day and into evening. I was so glad we started with the reefed main and staysail. With the exception of a few 30+ knot momentary gusts she was not overpowered at all and the windvane kept up with steering through the sloppy seas with minimal adjustment.
We watched the gauges throughout the day and into the night, calling out new highs for both wind speed and boat speed.
“There’s 9!” Kellye called out once the speed gauge crossed that threshold. That night we would momentarily see over 10 knots, but maintained a steady 8 to 9 knots consistently.
We set a 4 hour watch schedule for this passage. Kristin took the 8 PM to Midnight, Kellye took the Midnight to 4 AM, and I took the 4 AM to 8 AM shift. After doing nothing but 2-person 3-hour watches last season, getting 8 hours of off-watch rest felt luxurious.
Actually, the word luxurious has no place on this passage. Let’s just say we were all very grateful to only have to stand watch 4 hours through the bumpy sloppy seas that night. None of us really slept as the seas slapped us from the side and from the stern as Sonrisa charged up over one wave and down the next. Kristin and I both resorted to the “up on deck or fully prone” strategy of keeping the mal de mer at bay. Basically you either stay up on deck in the fresh air and in view of the horizon, or go below and immediately lie down flat, you can avoid the recurrence of the periodic nausea.
After Kristin’s watch she came below and I reminded her to lie down as quickly as possible. She tucked in the salon bunk next to me and we wedged ourselves into the side of the boat as Sonrisa plowed and lurched through the lumpy seas. Down below the cabin was softly lit with the glow of the night vision preserving red lights, accentuated by the orange glow of the VHF and green glow of the electrical switch panel. The hanging basket and oil lamp above us spun and twisted on their shock cords with the motion of the boat. I closed my eyes and imagined my body melting into the safety of the bunk. I listened to the wind in the rigging and felt the push of the sails. Sonrisa was alive and on a romp to our destination.
“Clank, clank, clank clank!” I woke with a start, bracing to catch myself as Sonrisa suddenly heeled over hard, sending loose items tumbling off the shelves and onto the galley counter.
“That was a big one!” I called out to Kellye who was on watch.
“Yeah, that was over 30 for sure. I missed it on the gauge though,” Kellye called back. “It hit just as we were coming up on a wave from the side.”
Other than the handful of big gusts that coincided with a beam-on wave, Sonrisa didn’t feel overpowered with the single reef main and staysail. In fact it would have probably been one of the best sails we’d had if it wasn’t for the short sloppy seas which the Gulf of California is notorious for.
Morning finally came and with it came calmer winds and more docile conditions. We were able to continue to sail through the morning until we were just a couple of hours out of Agua Verde.
By noon we were dropping the anchor in the scenic Bahia Agua Verde and ready for a day of rest and a good night’s sleep. We did it! Our fourth crossing of the Gulf of California and our most ambitious crossing to date. We sailed almost the entire way and made one of our fastest passages under sail – over 148 nautical miles in under 24 hours.
Agua Verde
We had briefly stopped in Agua Verde on our way north to Loreto last season. We were scoping out the possibility of anchoring there for a while but wanted to see if there was a cell tower within range. Last season we found one particular spot where it seemed like we could get a signal from Loreto through a slot in the hill, but this time we couldn’t find it. Kellye mentioned that in some places cell towers were being turned off to discourage people from gathering on the beaches that were supposed to be closed due to COVID. It could have also simply been a fluke that we got a signal last year.
Nevertheless, we were glad to be in a quiet and beautiful anchorage we shared with only one other boat.
Agua Verde is a popular stop on the Baja peninsula as it has inlets that offer protection from most wind directions. There’s a goat dairy nearby and a tiny town with a single tienda. After the long restless passage all any of us wanted to do was to get something to eat and get a good long sleep. No one had the energy for a trip ashore. Next time we’ll plan for a longer stay.
We enjoyed the scenery from the deck and cooked up our first real meal since San Carlos.
With full bellies and Sonrisa resting quietly on her anchor, we turned in shortly after dark for a good long sleep.
The next morning we got a leisurely start after our morning coffee. I made the usual pre-departure engine checks (oil, fuel, coolant) and by 8:30 we had hauled anchor and were underway once again. Our next stop was San Evaristo, a mere 46 nautical miles further south on the Baja peninsula.
Unlike the day before the winds and seas were very light, so with the engine running I started up the water maker to start filling our tanks for the first time this season. The first step in re-commissioning the water maker is to purge all of the ‘pickling’ preservative we ran though it when we put it away. I opened the relief valve to allow a free-flow of seawater through the system and set the product valve to ‘service’ to dispose of any water that might make it’s way through to the fresh water side while it’s purging itself. The manual says to let it flush for 30 minutes, but I always double that to be sure we’ve purged all of the preservative from the system. After an hour passed, I closed the relief valve and watched as the system pressurized. I pulled up the floorboard to check for leaks at the pump or the membrane and I was pleased to find everything dry. I let the system run for another 15 minutes as the ‘product’ fresh water drained into the galley sink from a small service hose. Finally the moment of truth. I grabbed our digital salinity tester off the galley shelf and filled a shot glass from the service tube. Putting the end of the tester into the shot glass and giving it a little swirl I watched the numbers settle on the display to 165 PPM. Excellent! This was as good or better than we were getting last season. Switching the product valve to ‘run’ the flow of fresh water started filling our tanks at nearly 15 gallons per hour.
The seas remained calm the entire day as we motored south. While we weren’t sailing we weren’t complaining either as we stretched out on deck and enjoyed the scenery.
The only excitement on this leg of the passage was we finally got into some fish! Kristin was the first to get a bite. As she pulled it in she felt like it wasn’t very big, but unlike the Mexican Bonitos we usually catch this one wasn’t dragging on the surface like they usually do. Sure enough when we got it up to the boat we could see that it was a small dorado. We decided it was a little small so we let that one go. A few minutes later I caught another small dorado, but that one jumped off the hook for me once I got it to the boat. Still, it was encouraging that our new fishing gear was attracting the right kind of fish!
San Evaristo
We arrived in San Evaristo about an hour before sunset and tucked into the north side of the anchorage where there’s a nice little bight that’s well protected but can only few a few boats. We had the anchorage to ourselves this time and we once again enjoyed the view of the village from the deck as the sunset over the Baja. That night Kristin checked to see if there was any phosphorescence in the water. Swishing a boat hook through the water only produced a few sparkles, but as we sat quietly and peered into the inky dark water we could see some very small and faint glowing jellyfish drifting by. They looked like little ghostly clouds in the water that drifted in and out of view. Subtle but pretty.
Our last day of our passage to La Paz was another calm day, so more motoring. Our route took us past Isla Espiritu Santo and some of our favorite anchorages in all of Mexico. We got a little excited when we started to see some of the same boat names in the anchorages as last year. It was like starting to recognize some familiar landmarks when returning to a town you used to live in. Little details trigger a rush of memories.
La Paz
As we approached the La Paz channel, I prepared myself to hail the port captain on the VHF radio as is customary in this particular port. I was determined to use my Spanish I’ve been studying over the past year.
“Capitania de puerto, capitania de puerto, este es el velero Sonrisa.” (Port Captain, Port Captain, this is the sailboat Sonrisa.”
“Catorce, por favor.” (14 please)
“Si, uno cuatro.” (Yes, one-four)
I switch to channel 14 on the VHF and take a deep breath to get all of the information I know he asks for.
“Este es el velero Sonrisa. Llegamos de San Carlos Sonora. Tenemos tres personas a bordo.” (This is the sailboat Sonrisa, arriving from San Carlos Sonora. We have three people aboard.)
The port captain came back with something I didn’t catch the meaning of, but it was certainly a question. I paused to try to remember the words. “Marina or anchorage,” the Port Captain reiterated in English.
“Vamos a Marina de La Paz,” (we are going to Marina de La Paz) I replied, not quite ready to give up on Spanish.
“Alleante.”
“Gracias.”
So while I’m definitely not going to pass as fluent anytime soon, it is improvement over last year.
Sonrisa motored her way down the long channel along the La Paz waterfront. We could already see many improvements since we were here last. Some under-construction buildings were actually finished and there appeared to be new improvements to the Malecon which stretches a long way along the La Paz waterfront.
As we turned the corner in to the Marina de La Paz basin we could see that they had our slip ready for us and even had two staff members waving us in, ready to catch our lines. In minutes we were tied to the dock. It was after-hours for the office, but they had left a key for us with the security staff so we could come and go and use the restrooms until we officially check in at the office in the morning.
We had barely finished tidying up Sonrisa’s decks when we decided to hike up to El Ché just outside the marina gate for the monster Argentinian burgers we’ve been fantasizing over for the last few days.
They did not disappoint. Sadly for us, they moved much further into town shortly after our visit, but we hope they are successful in their new location even though it will be a trek for us next time.
While it was a very quick trip down the Baja to La Paz and we passed by many of our favorite anchorages to get here, we were happy to be back and safe in the marina.