Back on the Baja

Lightening on the horizon

Our first night anchor after crossing was in San Evaristo. This small fishing village has a great cove that is protected from most winds and swells, except those coming from the east. With the southerly blows we were having, we knew it would be fine. San Evaristo also has a couple of small tiendas and I was dying for a Mexican Coca-cola. I rarely drink soda in the states, but there is something special about Mexican cokes. Maybe it is the old fashioned cane sugar rather than corn fructose? Maybe just a different recipe altogether, but whatever the reason, they are especially refreshing. Yum. 

We pulled in and immediately got the dinghy out and headed for the beach and the mini-market beyond. Luckily, she did have a few sodas, but since it was way past the usual cruiser season, she didn't have much else. No worries, coke in hands, we trotted off back down to the beach. 

It was hot, really hot. The water is so warm right now that it is feels good to be in it, but coming out feels like you never actually got in. Thankfully we did have some wind in the evening, which helped. The cove is really beautiful this time of year. It might be hot, but they are getting rain, so everything is popping up green.  We tried our hand at fishing, but only those damn puffers seemed to chase the hook. 

I was really looking forward to staying put for a few days after the 3 night passage, but the following day, the winds started to pick up from the north and Mike wanted to take advantage of it and get some good sailing in, so we headed out about 11 AM.  And, he was right, it made for wonderful sailing. We headed off on a port tack taking us straight towards Isla San Jose across the channel. We were soon doing 8 knots over water with very minimal heeling as we held a beam reach point of sail. We tacked a few times to make it out of the channel and made good time, but a storm was building behind us and we needed to seek an anchorage before nightfall. We headed for Timbabichi. We had anchored here before in the winter, but our trajectory on the plotter had been lost, so we headed in with an eye on the depth finder. We must of come over a sandbar, because it got as shallow as 10 feet and freaked me out a bit. After maneuvering around a bit, however, we found a nice 20 ft drop spot and let her go. 

We fished for a while and had a great front row seat to a spectacular lightening show to the south around San Evaristo, where we had just left. We felt really lucky not to be in the middle of that. At 65 feet, our mast is typically the tallest in every anchorage. Not sure that comes into play with lightening, but we feel very vulnerable as a result. A lightening strike on a boat is not good. 

Honeymoon Cove

The following day, we headed to Puerto Escondido, the aptly named Hidden Port to the north. They had fuel, which we needed, and hopefully a stocked tienda.

Heading in is interesting, if you have never been in before, because it really is quite hidden. The first place you hit is the Waiting Room with the breakwater to the port just beyond. A deep cove, this area has mooring balls that apparently are private. Not sure how that works. The small breakwater entrance into the main port, and where we find fuel, is only about 10 feet deep, so we need to be cautious. We cruised through the Waiting Room to see if we could find an anchorage, but at 65 feet, we did not feel comfortable putting out that much rode in such a small area. Instead, we headed across the channel to Honeymoon cove on the Isla Danzante.

We found a great little spot and had the cove all to ourselves. As we dropped anchor, the rays came out in full force, slapping the waters surface as they jump in and out. Have yet to find a definitive reason for this behavior in my research, but, if I had to guess, it would appear that they do this slapping on top of schools of small fish. Do they stun them with the slapping? The slapping resonated on the canyon making for loud cracks throughout the evening. We put up our tent, which covers most of the cockpit and the deck to the mast, and then placed all of the cushions and pillows up top for sleeping. It was still too hot to try to sleep below. 

It was a beautiful evening with thousands of stars. We were able to view the Hubble telescope as it glided its way across the sky. We also caught Mars and Saturn as well as a number of constellations we were still not familiar with. 

In the morning, we had some protection from the early sunrise from the cove walls to the east. It made for a very pleasant morning and we looked forward to hanging out in the cove for a few days...and then...

At about 9 AM, we saw a bee. Now the standard rule around here is to make sure to kill any single bees. These are reportedly scouts and when you see one, that means others are sure to follow. Unable to get the little sucker, we quickly dried up all water along the sink, made sure there were no standing dishes and were not very concerned. About 30 minutes later, there were 4 bees. Keira, as per normal, immediately got stung - poor thing. She is a magnet for bees and jellyfish. An hour later there were hundreds. We sent the kids down below with a fly-swatter and all the portholes closed, while Mike and I pulled up anchor as fast as we could and scaddadled! The tent was still up, but we had to get out of there. I was dancing at the helm, trying not to get stung and Mike stepped on a bee and got stung in the foot. We pulled up anchor fast and motored out to the channel as quickly as possible. When we finally got a safe distance, we opened up the companionway and let the kids out. Coming out of our cabin, Reid looked like a little warrior with his neck dripping blood where he had been stung and our little fly shaped fly-swatter in his hand, minus its antenna and 3 plastic legs from one side. He was exhilarated to tell us that his last count was 28 slain! The girls, Keira's sting behind her, were unscathed. The galley area looked like a war zone. Lots of little black carcasses scattered everywhere. 

Despite their casualties, the bees had definitely won and we decided that we needed to bite the bullet and head into the port. 

Not knowing if the breakwater channel was deep enough, we pulled into the Waiting Room and pulled up an unoccupied mooring ball. The thought being we would dinghy in and check depth before scooting Mangas through. 

We grabbed a ball and got hitched without a problem, and then the radio came alive. 
1st Cruiser: "C_, C_, M_" 
2nd Cruiser: "This is C_, go ahead M_" 
1st: "Channel 17"
2nd: "17" (We turn to 17, believing this exchange and our arrival was no coincidence) 
1st: "Hey, wanted to let you know that someone has taken one of your spots" 
2nd: "Oh, OK, thanks for looking out for me"

Good grief. I quickly got on 16... "This is a call out to any cruisers in the waiting room, Mangas, Mangas" a moment later...
1st Cruiser: "Mangas, this M_, how about 17?" 
Us: "17" 
1st:" Hello, are you who just pulled in and moored?" (Like they did not know...:) ) 
Us: "Yep, we are hoping to get information about depth before we go in for fuel" (Nice as pie voice as I can muster)
1st: "Oh, I see, yea, it is high tide you can go in no problem" 
Us: "OK, great, thanks for the information, Mangas back to 16" 
1st: "Back to 16". 

If you are not familiar with VHF, that is pretty much the syntax for all communication. But, the context of this particular exchange is pretty funny. They were really put out when they first called back to us, but after they realized that we were not out to squatter on someone's ball, they relaxed and actually got friendly. Who are these people? How does one get a private mooring ball in Mexico in a cove in the middle of nowhere? When half of them are unoccupied, why do they care if someone uses one? Good grief...it is our common refrain in these situations. 

We got into the fuel dock with no issue, unfortunately, we found that the tienda and restaurant were no longer here due to the higher rates they were faced with last May by the government run Fonatur, which manages this port. So, with fuel no longer an issue, we continue north towards Bahia Concepcion.