Feliz Navidad y Prospero Ano

Holiday greetings from La Paz, Mexico.  We wish you the best of times this holiday season and in the new year to come. 

Molly & Bryce

S/v Abracadabra

Abracadabra - it's The Winter Solstice!

Adventures in Anchoring and Death of a Spinnaker -- December 8 - 19

Our eleven day trip from Puerto Escondido south to La Paz included several anchoring skill-building exercises and three equipment tragedies (more than malfunctions – actual death in the line of duty).  As we consider our trip from the comfort of our dock at Marina Palmira, listening to the gentle sounds of Cuban danzon from the radio on the next boat, we can be philosophical: it’s all a learning experience!  

Bahia Candaleros – December 8:  We had a pleasant seven mile sail from Puerto Escondido to Bahia Candaleros where we were last seen having a Thanksgiving drink at the Presidential Suite of the hotel.  We returned to the beach bar of the hotel looking forward to the good (all things being relative) pizza served there.  What we had inconveniently forgotten was that cocktail hour in Bahia Candaleros might also be called the mosquito hour.  We were reminded of this when our waiter delivered a complimentary bottle of bug spray along with our cocktails!  By the time we had soaked ourselves down with bug spray and finished our cocktails night had fallen, the mosquitos had disbursed and we were able to enjoy the salad and pizza unmolested.  Next time we’ll start our evening fashionably late. 

Our first equipment tragedy was as we were anchoring at Bahia Candaleros.  To avoid mangling his toes in the windlass (note to non-sailors – the piece of equipment that feeds the anchor and chain out from the boat to the bottom of the anchorage) Bryce pulled back and in the process lost his grip on the windlass handle which proceeded to do a graceful, aerobatic flip into the bay.  Once again we were reminded that snorkel gear is not just for fun.  The next morning, after the sun was high enough to aid our search, we donned snorkels and masks and swam out to see if we could find the handle.  Unfortunately, we couldn’t spot it.  Bryce has now switched from wearing anchoring sandals to anchoring tennis shoes and is using the manual bilge pump handle as a replacement handle.  Lucky man, he’s been promised a new handle for Christmas. 

Bahia Agua Verde – December 9 – 13:  After giving up on our recovery mission, we sailed 17 miles south to Agua Verde and anchored behind a crowd of other boats. 

Abracadabra Anchored at Agua Verde

The first night was pleasant and we spent time in the cockpit with our “Star Maps for Beginners” book and I-Touch star program identifying some constellations.  We can now identify more than Orion!  On our second night a high wind in the Sea began sending waves wrapping around into the bay.  One of the boats in front of us had left so we had the opportunity (and were advised by others) to move further into the protection of the shoal.  Because the prior night had been so pleasant we didn’t think relocation would be worth the effort.  It would have been worth the effort.  The next morning, bleary eyed from having rocked-n-rolled all night, we were happy to see another better-situated neighbor departing, which allowed us to move further into the northern lobe of the bay.  Location, location, etc.

During our stay in Agua Verde, we made the acquaintance of Merry and Eric from Rhiannan who were kind enough to coach us on ways to cook fillets of sierra (Spanish Mackerel) that we had purchased from a local fisherman, provide directions for a hike and share weather information.  On our third day, friends from La Paz, Robert and Lucie on Grace, arrive with stories of their own adventures.

 

We followed Eric’s directions and enjoyed the hike past the old cemetery

Cemetery at Agua Verde

through a grove of date palms to another cove

Driftwood Art North of Agua Verde

and up a goat path along a hill to visit a cave.  Rather than leave our own red handprints at the cave (we’re not sure who first did that) 

Red Handprints at  Agua Verde Cave

we took “we were there” pictures:

Bryce Was There

And So Was Molly

The villagers at Agua Verde raise goats and the anchorage is known for the sound of goat bells on the hill in the evening.  During our stay a survival drama played out among the goat population on the hill above us.  A young goat was caught out on a ledge on the hillside, and for two days we watched anxiously as its worried mother looked for and called to it as the local vulture gang circled.  There was a happy ending -- we saw the mother escorting a young goat up the side of the hill one afternoon.  Success was confirmed when the vultures disbursed.  Who needs television when one has a heart-tugging PBS Nature special unfolding outside one’s door? 

We delayed our departure from Agua Verde because a southerly night wind was expected and Agua Verde is one of the few south-wind anchorages in the area.  On the morning of the expected southerly every other boat in the bay departed for the south side of the bay.  Fighting off our abandonment feelings, we decided to stay put because the weather predictions called for the wind to shift from the north later during the night.  We huddled below and listened to the rain and wind like Seattle sailors.  As it turned out, the wind shift came to pass and we sat as comfortably as those that had relocated.    

The exciting part of the “south wind kerfuffle” came at about 22.00 when we heard a boat approaching.  As we were the only boat left in the northern part of the bay, which can accommodate a number of boats at anchor, we weren’t concerned.  But then we saw the new arrival trying to anchor between Abracadabra and a (we thought) too-near rocky shore.  The clouds had obliterated any starlight or moonlight.  The newly arrived boat was a few lights in the dark and the sound of a motor – all very, very close to us, it seemed.

A polite exchange ensued between Bryce and the (undoubtedly exhausted) invisible single-hander trying to anchor near us:  “Are you comfortable with where I’m anchoring?  I’m afraid my perspective may be off in the dark.”  “Well, you’re plenty close.  There’s a lot of room in front of us.  Can we show you another suggestion?”  [In the background Molly was hissing things like:  “Holy f*^# -- if he sets there he’ll swing right on top of us!  Oh, cr@p!  He’s going to run into those rocks if he keeps going in that direction.  Jeeeezus, he’s close.”]

Fortunately, Bryce was able to talk the new arrival into a much safer place to anchor, though by the time he anchored Molly was positively vibrating – and not just from the night chill.  When we left Agua Verde in the morning we were happy to see his pretty little boat anchored comfortably in the middle of the bay, safe and sound.  Does he think we helped or does he think we were unreasonable?  We will never know!         

Southward Bound (returns to Timbabiche; San Evaristo; and Ensenada Grande on Isla Espiritu Santo) – December 14 – 17:  Our 21 mile trip from Agua Verde to Timbabiche was spent bringing out the sails and watching the wind die, turning on the motor and watching the wind come up; rinse, repeat.  By the time we arrived at Timbabiche we didn’t have time for adventures ashore.  The next day, from Timbabiche to San Evaristo (26 miles) we were able to sail . . . sloooowly . . . until we realized if we were going to make San Evaristo before dark (see above re: challenges of anchoring in the dark!) we would have to rely on the motor.  So, with winds at about 2 – 5 knots, we motored to San Evaristo.   

During the 28 mile trip from San Evaristo to Ensenada Grande (on Isla Espiritu Santo) the winds were brisk and from the north-north west which allowed us to sail the entire way.  Unfortunately, this was when we experienced the second equipment tragedy.  Fifteen minutes out of San Evaristo we put up the spinnaker and watched in horror as it shredded along the luff -- rrrrrrrrriiiiiip.  And our pretty little spinnaker was in two (or more).  Like much of our equipment it was not new when we got it, and we remind ourselves that used equipment should be expected to have a shorter life span than new.  But we are still saddened by the loss of our pretty little bargain sail. 

At the Dock in La Paz,Assessing the Damage

Ooooh, Baby, You Break My Heart

Ensenada Grande (where Bryce nursed his sinus infection with antibiotics five weeks before) was our home for two nights because the wind that made for a quick sail from San Evaristo strengthened, which suggested that we stay put in the ensenada’s good north-wind anchorage.  We sat at anchor in Ensenada Grande for two nights, listening to the wind howl in the rigging.  The wind wasn’t high enough to register in the scary-meter (the highest gust we saw was 20-knots) but it swept down from the hills surrounding the anchorage creating a howling sound that, as Bryce pointed out, was a bit like the sound track of Ice Station Zebra.        

On our last morning in Ensenada Grande the local rays put on a show at breakfast as though they were happy to have the scary night-time sounds over.  We drank coffee and watching them launch themselves four or five feet into the air and then land - slap – on the water, making a sound that brought back painful memories of childhood belly-flops.  Other rays would launch across the water like stones skipped by invisible giants.  Why the rays leap and splat like this is a mystery to us.

El Mezteño (Isla Espiritu Santo) – December 18:  We wanted to visit one more new place 

before returning to marina life so we motored in very light wind five miles south to El Mezteño, a pretty one-boat cove.  

El Mezteno

The sand was white and the water was warm-ish and startlingly clear.  We rowed to shore and scrambled over boulders until we gave up trying to call what we were doing hiking. 

So the Trail Would Be About Here . . . ?

Well, Maybe This Is The Trail . . . 

We walked the beach and watched the almost translucent crab run from our shadows.

When She Agreed To Row Back, The Shore Looked Closer 

We returned to the boat, had a beer and watched the crazy rays skip themselves across the water.  After dinner we identified a couple of additional constellations and commented on how the wind had shifted and was now coming from the west – the one area for which we had no wind or wave protection.  No concern, we told ourselves – it was only four knots.  No high winds were predicted.    

At about 21.00 the wind picked up and though it only rarely gusted to 20 knots, it was accompanied by swells of at least two meters (that’s 6 feet for the American readers).  Our little secluded cove had become a funnel for waves that were much higher than the winds warranted.  Abracadabra’s bow was bucking like a mechanical bull (to use an analogy you may be too embarrassed to admit you recognize – but we are old enough to recall that short-lived nightclub phenomenon).

Our first challenge was to determine what to do with the dinghy suspended over the side on its hoist.  Waves were splashing into it and could eventually make the weight too heavy for the hoist.  So we donned our PFDs (for non-sailors: personal flotation devices or life jackets), rode the mechanical bull in a dark only slightly relieved by the light of a bright quarter moon, lowered the dinghy and tied it off Abracadabra’s stern – hoping that we would find it attached in the morning rather than washed up on the beach! 

Cold, splashed and windblown we retreated below to discuss what else we should do to address this unfortunate turn of weather (something other than contemplating tossing up dinner).  As we discussed pros and cons of releasing additional anchor chain – a traditional way of addressing high winds – there was a huge BAM and the sickening sound of anchor chain running out uncontrolled --- clank-clank-clank-clank-clank.  We raced up the hatchway.  The sound stopped abruptly and the boat swung around like it was the victim in a rodeo calf roping event (ok… enough with the cowboy analogies, already!).  The anchor chain was taut again and the anchor was holding. 

The high waves had wrenched the snubber (for non-sailors: a hook on a piece of strapping that relieves the tension on the anchor chain) off the chain bending the snubber beyond repair (our third equipment tragedy), and then exerted enough force on the chain to pop off the windlass brake, which allowed the chain to dump noisily overboard.  The extra rope that follows the chain caught because Bryce had, as is his custom, cleated it at the bow.  Note to self: redundancy is a good thing in sailing.  Ha – no need to discuss the pros and cons of letting out more chain! 

Bryce let out a small amount of additional rope to give some stretch to the anchoring system.  Molly stood in the hatchway watching him ride up and down on the bow in the dark considering the best way of addressing his seemingly inevitable plunge into the six foot swell.  She decided his best chance was to grab onto the dinghy as he swept by . . . [Molly's note to self: make sure he ties on next time!]. 

Summary:  Bryce did not fall in, the dinghy stayed attached, and the anchor held.  We slept some (as much as one can sleep on an amusement park ride) and woke often.  The waves started to subside around 01.00.  There was a lot of energy expended in a very short time – by us and by the Sea.

Return to La Paz:  Fuzzy after from our busy night, we motored most of the way to La Paz, once again amazed that a night with so much wind could be followed by a morning with so little.  About five miles north of the start of the La Paz channel the wind came up and we were able to sail the rest of the way into Marina Palmira.  Sailing within the channel markers was like sailing a slalom run, and Bryce was a very Happy Captain. 

After the prior couple of noisy, active nights we were thrilled to tie up to a dock, have a hot shower and eat food cooked by someone other than Abracadabra’s galley wench.  Bryce is now on the internet ordering a windlass handle and an anchor chain snubber to be delivered by Santa Claus . . . and we're checking Santa's list to see if we've been good enough for a new spinnaker . . .

Parque Nacional Bahia de Loreto y La Vuelta à Puerto Escondido – November 27 to December 7

Parque Nacional Bahia de Loreto, part of the Mexican national park system, is a water park covering about 510 thousand acres and including several islands.  We visited two of those islands after leaving the marina at Puerto Escondido:

Isla Carmel -- Puerto Ballandra – November 27 – 30:  

We sailed about 16 miles north-east of Puerto Escondido to a lovely bay on Isla Carmen.  We were lucky to be there at the full moon.

Full Moon Rising - Puerto Ballandra

Full Moon in the Rigging

Moon Colors

During our stay we had several nice walks but never took any of the longer hikes described in the cruising guide because we couldn’t find the trails!  The rain that has blessed/cursed the Baja this year had resulted in paths so overgrown that hiking was really just bushwhacking. 

We had read that the island is home to some big horned sheep.  On our walks this is as close as we got:

Big Horn Sheep Were Here

More of Puerto Ballandra:  

Abracadabra at Anchor - Puerto Ballandra

Watercolors - Puerto Ballandra

We spent time in Puerto Ballandra reading the cruising guides and trying to decide if it was important to go further north.  Finally we decided that we weren’t going to see any big-horned sheep or get a decent hike in at Puerto Ballandra, so when the winds were in our favor we sailed 8 miles north-west to Isla Coronados which is also part of the Parque Nacional Bahia de Loreto.  

Isla Coronados – December 1 – 3:  

This anchorage differed from other places we have stayed on this trip.  Mostly we have anchored in bays that provide protection from north winds – the prevailing winds during this time of year in the Sea.  Finding a bay that provides good wind and wave protection helps one understand the genesis of common expressions like “safe harbor” and “snug harbor”, or the use of the term “harbor” to mean “home”.   At Isla Coronados we were protected from north winds by the island itself – but were otherwise open to the Sea.  We could see for miles in all directions except north, including the lights from the town of Loreto six miles away.  It felt like perching on the edge of the world (or, as Bryce analogized, it was like camping at the side of the freeway; the Captain truly is a poet).

Anchoring At The Edge Of The Sea

Dolphins played around the boat while we had breakfast one morning.  We had some charming neighbors who are cruising with their two-year old son.  They stopped by to say hello on the afternoon we were baking b-r-o-w-n-i-e-s, and we were allowed to share some with the little guy.  [And correspondingly reduce our own consumption, which was good!]

We took a couple of walks on Isla Coronados - once again hampered by the lack of a real trail and in this instance by the fact that the island is home to the biggest, ugliest spiders we have seen in a long time.  After spending time trying to find paths that didn’t disturb any of the (likely man-eating) spiders we decided to return to the boat for a swim. 

Captain Bryce Fighting Off Man-Eating Spiders

When we were rowing the dinghy back to Abracadabra we spotted some blue footed boobies on shore.  During the time it took us to fish the camera out of the dry-bag several flew away, so we were able to get a picture of only one.  You’ll have to take our word for the fact that there were several. 

Pelican Left, Boobie Right (see blue feet!)

We decided that we needed to turn south to avoid making our return trip to La Paz a dash, so we made Isla Coronados our northern-most point.  On the 4^th, we sailed 19 miles south to Puerto Escondido. 

Puerto Escondido – December 4 – 7: 

From Puerto Escondido we made another day trip to Loreto.  We hitched a ride with a woman from Loreto named Norma, who owns a hair salon and spa, and returned to Abracadabra much less scruffy looking after a visit to her salon.  An interesting advertising technique, picking up hitch-hikers! 

One of the big issues of local concern in Loreto is a proposal to develop a casino.  The proponents are pushing the “jobs” button (which is used here as it is in the rest of North America to argue in favor of the relaxation of all sorts of laws and regulations . . .).  The anti-casino crowd is arguing that Loreto, a quiet town with a small tourist industry focused on kayakers, whale watchers and artists, does not need casino-generated jobs enough to risk the possibility that the casino will generate criminal activity.  Public discussions about potential criminal activity remain vague, but people we talked to expressed concern that the casino would be used to launder drug cartel money.  While we were in Loreto we met a woman that had been campaigning against the casino; she was ecstatic that the mayor had agreed to put a letter in opposition to the casino on the anti-casino group’s Facebook page.  The power of social media has come to coastal Mexico! 

On the morning of the 8^th, we departed Puerto Escondido on our trip south.  

Season Two; Toes In the Water: La Paz to Puerto Escondido – November 9 to 26

The four year drought that had plagued the Baja Peninsula ended this year, and the Baja is Green.  According to some we have talked to, it’s greener at the moment than it has been in thirty years!  Instead of the spectacular white sand beaches bordered by red cliffs, and brown and red and gold mountains running to the sea that we saw last April, we are now surrounded by hillsides covered in greenery and flowers.  Our walks along paths through the hills are more like wandering along the coast of Northern California than desert Mexico -- there are bright yellow and tangerine butterflies and little white and pink and red heart-shaped flowers everywhere. 

Of course in addition to beautiful lush vegetation, the Baja has been blessed with other forms of water-dependent wildlife – including a wide variety of flying and biting insects including mosquitos, moscos y bobos (mosquitos, flies and gnats).  Ah, nature, how we love you – as long as we are covered with enough toxic goo to repel the dread mosquitos, moscos y bobos! 

We left Marina Palmira, La Paz with the line-handling assistance of our neighbors Robert and Lucie of Grace on November 9, and since then have enjoyed the spectacular greenery that is now the Baja for about 110 miles.  We have visited:

Ensenada de La Raza – November 9: 

Abracadabra was the only boat in this lovely little cove, and there was no wave action to disrupt our first swim of the season (clean, clear, 85 degree water).  After a swim we poured a rum and tonic (using our precious ice!) to celebrate our first successful anchoring of the season, and then . . . dah dah dah dum . . . they came.  Mucho, mucho moscos y bobos.

We conceded the dominance of these little pesky critters and moved below, spraying the hatch screens with something toxic.  We stayed inside until the sun was well down, undoubtedly consuming more than the recommended daily allowance of bug spray with dinner.

After dark the bugs disappeared and we emerged to marvel at the stars and the phosphorescence dancing in the water – like fire flies in the water.  We heard fish jumping, and what we finally identified as dolphins swimming around us.  When dolphins breathe they make a huffing sound that in the pitch black reminded us of an old starring a creature that looked like a slimy tankless scuba diver (The Creature from the Black Lagoon?).  The night was so lovely that – having taken the precaution of pulling up the swim ladder so the Creature couldn’t haul its slimy self into the cockpit and get us -- we even slept under the stars until it got too cool.

The next morning we were inclined to stay for another night until we tried to have breakfast outside and were once again attacked by los moscos y bobos.  We would have invited the Creature aboard gladly if we had thought it would slurp the little buggers.  Deciding that our definition of paradise included fewer flies and gnats, we departed. 

Ensenada Grande – November 10 - 13:  

Sailing to Ensenada Grande (Big Cove) involved some finickity hand steering because the winds were primarily from between five and seven knots, with the occasional nice gust to thirteen.  But it was a beautiful day and we were able to do without the motor for the trip. There were already several boats in each of the four little lobes of Ensenada Grande, so it took a while to find a “parking place”.  But, thanks to our newest piece of equipment -- the Simultalk 24G Full Duplex Wireless System – we were able to keep our usual discussions / dithering about where to anchor to ourselves.

Bryce w/ The Simultalk 24G and new beard:

Sidebar – Anchoring Communications 101:  

Anchoring communications must take place between (a) the person lowering the anchor (Bryce) at the bow of the boat rattling 100+ feet of clanking chain and (b) the person driving the boat (Molly) listening intently to the engine to make sure it doesn’t stall.  On Abracadabra person (a) is about 35 feet in front of person (b) and on most days it is extremely difficult (or impossible) for either to hear the other.  So in sailing school they teach all kinds of nifty hand signals to use to bridge this communication gap (kind of like a catcher talking to a pitcher in baseball).

No matter how many times we have discussed what hand signals we will use – what arm wave will mean forward, what will mean reverse, etc., Bryce has historically preferred to use his powers of psychic communication aided by the occasional flapping of one or both arms in a way that has not previously been discussed.  Completely unable to determine what she is supposed to do Molly often resorts to yelling something like “Neutral?  Should I put it in neutral?” into the wind.  Bryce, hearing over the sound of the clanking chain something that sounds vaguely like his wife when she is annoyed with him, will then repeat his directions by flapping arms or yelling over his shoulder.  Molly will yell something like “Reverse?  Was that reverse?”  And the lack of communications circle will begin again.

The embarrassing thing is that, no matter how hard it is for the person on the bow to hear the person at the stern, and vice-versa – due to the way sound carries over water, others in the anchorage can often hear each of us quite clearly.  Sometimes our neighbors have found our confusion amusing.  Sometimes they have found it frightening that these yahoos are anchoring so near to them.

With the Simultalk 24G Full Duplex Wireless System (aka The Marriage Savers) we can now anchor without shouting!  We can actually talk though the anchoring process with only the average amount of spouse-to-spouse miscommunication.  So far this system has proved well worth its $275 cost.  Though some of our neighbors are undoubtedly missing out on a bit of good comedy . . .

Back to Ensenada Grande:  

Happily, Ensenada Grande was (relatively) mosco y bobo free.  Saturday night was a bit blowy – gusting to 23 knots.  On Sunday, the Port Captains’ radio report said that Puerto Penasco at the northern tip of the Baja was closed due to high winds.  This meant we would likely have to sail into 30 knot winds to reach our next anchorage.  That sounded like a lot of work, so we agreed to stay for another night.  Later in the day we realized the true reason Bryce didn’t have the energy to press on: his minor cold was becoming a sinus infection.  So we stayed three more nights in Ensenada Grande to let Bryce rest.  We read and dozed.  Bryce decimated a box of tissue, began a cycle of Zithromax and quit shaving (see beard above).  By Wednesday he was ready to press on.

Isla San Francisco – November 14 & 16:

Once again our ability to read the weather proved impeccable.  After swinging at anchor for several nights in 20+ knot winds, we departed Ensenada Grande into about eight knots of wind.  Out came the sails, and the wind immediately dropped to six . . . to five . . . to four . . .   When the wind fell to three knots, we realized it would take us about a week to travel upwind the seventeen miles to Isla San Francisco unless we motored.  And so we motored. 

It was an uneventful trip until, as we were approaching Isla San Francisco, the engine hiccupped and belched smoke.  We stared at each other buggy eyed.  OMG – was it back?  Was last year’s engine problem BACK?  After a moment of post-traumatic stress induced panic, we realized that whatever was happening was very different than the problem that plagued us down the Pacific Coast.  The motor wasn’t over-heating and there was a jerky shimmy at the steering pulpit we hadn’t experienced before.  Not the same problem – but still a problem.

Bryce’s diagnosis was that something was caught on the propeller.  As we were in sight of our anchorage we limped in, and set anchor.  Fortunately the water was warm, calm and inviting and we had purchased good snorkel gear before we left La Paz.  We snorkeled under Abracadabra and had a very clear view of a bright yellow plastic mesh onion (potato?) sack wrapped around the propeller.  Bryce armed himself with a knife and dove back under the boat, prepared to hack the thing away from the propeller – and with one tug it slipped right off!

Bathing beauty with the offending onion (potato?) sack:

Having saved the propeller from death by plastic, we took a swim for fun.  And our snorkeling view was way cooler to us than any amount of exotic fish:  Abracadabra, propeller, chain and anchor, all safe and sound!

Our second day at Isla San Francisco was another “season first”.  We launched our dinghy, using the new hoist system Bryce had devised.  It was soooo much easier than last year’s effort!  Bryce’s design was patterned in part on the hoist our friend Tom Shenton had created for Kewaeo, the CS 36 that he and his wife Pam sail.  Thanks for the great ideas, Tom!  [We will post further descriptions and pictures of the hoist in Cruiser's Notes at a later time.]

We took the dinghy to shore and went for a walk, enjoying stretching our legs after six nights on board.  The island is uninhabited so apparently the mosquito population simply hangs out waiting for warm blooded sailors to take long walks.  We thought we were dressed to thwart the little buggers, but it turns out that SPF 50 fabric has absolutely no mosquito protection value.

San Evaristo – November 16:

From Isla San Francisco, we sailed the nine-ish miles to the little fishing village of San Evaristo where we bought fish from the local fishermen before they shipped it off to market.  As we learned last season, fish caught that morning is a whole different experience than fish from the market.  Yumm.

Timbabiche (Bahia San Carlos) – November 17:
 

The next day’s trip was longer, and less fun as the wind wasn’t strong enough to help us punch through even the minor swell we were facing.  So – on came what our friend Kathy Romano calls “sailing’s dirty little secret” – the motor.  We arrived at the village of Timbabiche in time to meet a local lobster salesman on his way to his trap.  We negotiated a price, and he took off to see if he could find anything to sell us. 

We took the dinghy to shore and walked to town.  Timbabiche’s historic architectural feature is Casa Grande which, according to the local story, was built by a pearl diver (back in the day when pearls were found rather than farmed) that struck it rich on a particularly large pearl.  Over the next several generations the family apparently found they couldn’t maintain the large house, and it is now a haunting shell, with cactus growing from the top of the two-story walls. 

Timbabiche’s more modern architecture tends to the Buckminster Fuller-ish style.  Metal bars are used to create the frame for the roof, and over that frame, some sort of plasticized canvas is stretched.  The result is a building that looks like something out of a futuristic desert movie:

One apparent benefit to this construction technique is that it would be fairly easy to replace these roofs when they get stripped off by the odd hurricane.

When we returned to Abracadabra we found that our lobsterman was in luck, and so were we.  We purchased two kilos of langostinos from him, and dined like people with a much fancier boat!

Bahia Agua Verde – November 18 - 20: 

This area is known for its beautiful green water.  Unfortunately for us there were so many clouds that the water looked quite grey.  The hills were lovely though and we had a couple of nice walks – one into the little village to buy a vegetable or two.  We had the added pleasure of seeing friends from our first season -- Marie France and Mike from Dejala – and they joined us for some wine and appetizers one evening.  They had stayed in the Gulfo de California over the summer and had some exciting weather stories to share. 

We enjoyed Bahia Agua Verde so much that we failed to realize that our 23^rd wedding anniversary had come and gone on the 18th!  [The marriage was saved for a 24^th year only because we both lost track of the date!]

Bahia Candeleros – November 21 – 22:

Another beautiful bay – not to be confused with the Bahia Candeleros on Isla Espiritos Santo - where we anchored last year -- so shallow and clear we could see to the bottom of the bay from the boat.  Schools of beautiful cobalt blue fish were visible while walking along the shore.  The bay is a bit livelier than some because it is the home to a large resort, so there were lots of kayakers and paddle boarders around.  We chatted up one couple that kayaked by.  They had spent time on their sailboat in the Caribbean and in Mexico a few years before and invited us to visit them at the resort on Thanksgiving to talk about sailing adventures.

When we got to shore we learned that these nice people and their children and grandchildren had been upgraded to the resort’s Presidential Suite due to a problem in their original suite of rooms.  So we were treated to an evening of drinks on the huge balconies of the Presidential Suite!  We were very thankful that we had put on clean clothes!

Puerto Escondido – November 23 – 26:

Our original destination was a charming sounding place called Honeymoon Cove (which we thought might make up for the fact that we’d forgotten our wedding anniversary . . .).  We had a beautiful sail with some 15 knot winds – but when we arrived at the cove we saw that it was already crowded for the amount of anchoring ground available.  We tried to squeeze ourselves in and then realized that it just didn’t sound all that charming to spend the night worried about whether we would be swinging into the other boats there.  So we headed into Puerto Escondido, about three miles away.

Puerto Escondido is the largest port in the area, and is a very big hang out for yatistas.  The marina – with docks and such – is extremely small, but the Mexican government entity that oversees marinas has created a very large mooring ball field.  We have spent three nights on a mooring ball here ($12 a night) and are accomplishing all the important shore-based tasks of sailing life (garbage drop off, grocery purchase, swapping out books and internet banking).  We've even borrwed some DVDs from the local lending library -- if you haven't seen James Garner in Support Your Local Gunfighter in the last twenty years or so, you might find it enjoyable. 

The nearest town, Loreto, is over 15 miles away and taxis are extremely expensive – so we have been very pleased to find that the local “boat people” are very friendly and those with cars are willing to give those of us without rides to town.  We visited the Loreto farmers’ market on Sunday and found some of the nicest produce we have seen on the Baja (along with a used washing machine, Chinese cookware and plastic, and gorgeous shrimp (which we didn’t have the cooler capacity to take with us, unfortunately!).

We have met the rest of our provisioning needs at the local tiendas which have gringo-friendly provisions such as the all-important Kirkland brand canned chicken and even a frozen t-bone steak!  So, once our laundry finishes, we’ll load up and head to the nearby Isla Coronado where we will spend a week or so before heading back toward La Paz.  We expect to be out of internet range for about three weeks.  We’ll check in once we arrive in La Paz! 

La Paused in La Paz

Life is easy in a nice marina – and Marina Palmira is a very nice marina: sturdy docks; water; power; clean showers laundry facilities; shuttle to town; small tienda/chandlery;  two dock-side restaurants and . . . . drum roll please: access to the nearby hotel’s swimming pool! 

La Paz itself is very easy to adapt to (see prior posts about its charms).  And now that we have a car, we find that we are less efficient – if we don’t remember to get X at the store – we can just go back tomorrow.  Thus we have succumbed to the local cruiser condition of being “La Paused”.

 

Not that we have been completely idle! Oh, no:

WE VOTED – AND WE HOPE YOU HAVE TOO:  And an expensive proposition it was.  Our mail-in ballots arrived at our San Francisco address after we departed for Mexico.  So, we had them forwarded, along with other mail, to us in La Paz via Federal Express.  Realizing that our ballots had to be received by November 6 to be counted (we had somehow thought they only needed to be mailed by November 6) we paid to have them sent by UPS to Sacramento where friends Ken and Claudia Carlson have placed them into the US Mail in a timely fashion.  Ken tells us that our package was apparently reviewed by the Office of Homeland Security – but that they didn’t open our ballots! 

We were willing to pay $35 dollars to get our ballots in on time (even though they will have little effect on California’s Electoral College vote) because this was Bryce’s first vote for President (he became a nuevo Americano in 2011)!  And there’s the psychological comfort of knowing that however tomorrow’s election and the subsequent litigation turns out – WE voted for the best candidates and the “right” policies.  Obama/Biden 2012! 

WE ARE PUTTING ABRACADABRA BACK INTO CRUISING FORM: We pulled the items

 stored in the salon and the V-berth (for non-sailors: the “living room” and the “bedroom”) and have been putting them back on.  On went the sails, the dingy hoist, the outboard motor for the dingy, the cockpit table (aka the breakfast nook), the safety equipment, the bar-b-que, the new anchor chain and the anchor.  Into little storage places went the new salt, sugar, paper towels and rice.  We installed the bimini (the shade at the stern) and, with the help of our neighbor Robert, the solar panels.  It had been a year since Bryce and Frank designed and built the solar panel braces. . . so it took a bit of head scratching to figure out how to put them back together.   

 Hmmmm - now how was it this thing worked?

Note to selves: don’t throw away installation instructions, and if it’s something self-manufactured . . . make a note – a year is a long time between installations!

WE CELEBRATED DIA DE MUERTOS:  Molly attended a lecture at a Spanish language school about the Day of the Dead and learned that, though the celebration has its roots in pre-Hispanic tradition, the current form of the celebration dates from the 18^th century.  There are actually two days during which the dead are honored – the first day (November 1 – Todos los Santos) is for those that died in childhood or in youth, and the next day (November 2 – Fieles Difuntos) is for those that died after attaining adulthood.  Much like American or Canadian Thanksgiving or Christmas, the holiday includes a few common elements, but the celebration is primarily a reflection of each family’s separate “culture”.

The common theme is an altar honoring the departed, erected for the purpose of inviting them to return to their home and family for the day.  Sometimes this alter is in the home, and sometimes at the cemetery.  Altars usually include an image of a religious figure that was important to the deceased (Christo, la Virgin de Guadalupe, or a patron saint), marigolds, candles and offerings of favorite foods or drink.  As the lecturer mentioned tequila and cigarettes, Molly envisioned an altar including Diet Dr. Pepper and mini-Snickers bars. . . the ambrosia of her teenage years.  The altar also includes pictures of the deceased, at least one of which is placed facing a mirror.  Though the lecture was in Spanish, and she understood only about seventy percent of it (and pretty proud of that, actually!) Molly thinks that the point of the mirror is for the deceased to see him- or her-self reflected in the mirror along with the surrounding family. 

The more commercial aspects of the day include a sweet-bread flavored with anise seed that is topped with dough formed in the shape of crossed bones.  These pan de muertos are sold at all the grocery stores either as large loaves or packages of many small loaves.  It’s clearly a celebration for large families, not two people living on a small boat.  Fortunately, Molly got a chance to try the bread at the lecture, and figure out it apparently is an acquired taste, so we were spared the purchase of a large loaf of something we didn’t really love.

What we did purchase was a calavera – a skull made of sugar.  They’re everywhere.  There must be a giant plant extruding sugar skulls at a ferocious rate all through October somewhere in Mexico – note the UPC bar code! 

Indigenous Art . . . With Bar Code.

We placed our sugar skull in our altar place (next to the St. Christopher and the Buddha friends have provided us) to honor our departed family members.  On November 2, we unwrapped it and took a small bite.  Hmmm – it tasted as you might imagine: a tablespoon of sugar with that funky chemically flavor of colored icing.  We (reverently) sent it off to the great trash bin on the dock before it attracted any bugs.  We hope Howard (Bryce’s father) and Bob and Patti (Molly’s parents) came to visit us, and if they did, that they did not try the calavera, but that they enjoyed the thought that their crazy old children were living on a little boat in Mexico.  Molly is concerned that her mother is now worried that her daughter is living without air conditioning . . . something she often said was mankind’s greatest invention after indoor plumbing. 

The important take-away for us is that it’s nice to have a particular day set aside to invite those 

that we have loved to return to us for a party.  We’re planning on making this a part of our annual celebration ritual -- though we think we’ll keep the sugar skull inside its wrapper for direct deposit into the landfill next year. 

WE DID A GOOD DEED:  We joined fellow boaters in participating in the clean-up of nearby Balandra Beach one Sunday.  We were hot and sweaty by the end of our efforts – and had a huge Costco bag of trash to add to the pile being hauled off the beach. 

Litter Patrol

We picked up enough cigarette butts to atone for our former lives as smokers, and we learned that styrofoam lives longer in the blazing Baja sun than does the thin plastic used to make drinking cups (those would literally disintegrate in our hands as we tried to pick them up).   Longer lived still are chip packages.  We felt very virtuous about our efforts, and more importantly, were reminded not to purchase things in styrofoam and to keep our (oft forgotten) pledge to take reusable plastic with us to dinner to use as our take-home box! 

WE WILL OVERCOME THE INDOLENCE OF BEING LA PAUSED!  We are planning to depart La Paz on Thursday the 8^th.  We need to buy propane and some food (we hear re-provisioning in the little villages in the Gulfo de California is limited), and get the dingy inflated and strapped onto the deck.  But there’s no need to rush anything really.  We’re retired you know.  Once we depart we’ll travel north to – well, however far we get.  We will write as we away.