This morning, we still needed to find a place for provisions, nothing critical, but we had run out of fresh fruit and vegetables a while ago. Mike and I sit in the cockpit, enjoying our morning coffee, checking his toe, which is healing quite nicely, and listening. The sun is coming up and the heat is starting to get uncomfortable. It is nearing 90 degrees with a clear sky and promises to perhaps hit one hundred. OK, with shade and/or AC, but we have neither.
The heat and humidity... it is again the main topic of the day. After a long conversation, debating our next move, I cannot wait to do more diving, but we decide to head to San Carlos and put Mangas in a slip for the remainder of hurricane season. It is a difficult decision. We will come back the first week of October, after the heat has broken and finish the year.
"Where to then?", is the next question. We have a 5th wheel trailer in Yarnell that, since we sold our house in Colorado, we now call home. We could take that on the road. Mike asks where I would like to go since this is my sabbatical year. We explore many places, but all of them seem way to expensive to me given our budget and given that we will need to pay for a marina for the next two months.
Finally, we settle on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. Mike and I have camped there before and it is just gorgeous. Located in the Kaibab National Forest, it will be getting monsoon activity this time of year, which will mean that under the green pines and blue spruce, there will be a thick undergrowth of flowers and ferns. Decision is made, that is where we spend the months of August and September.
We head an hour north into Santa Rosalia to get a few items and it is hotter than hot. There is really no other word for it. Every chrome piece on the boat provides a potential for burns when touched and the teak deck is so hot, it requires shoes to be worn on board.
We anchor just outside the breakwater at Santa Rosalia and dinghy to the Fonatur dock and head to the office to pay any docking fee. In the office, we run into 4 other cruisers who are taking a break from their two sailboats to enjoy the air conditioning in the office. We linger and chat, enjoying the adult conversation and the cool room. The nice agent behind the desk just charges us 10 pesos each for Mike and I. I give her a 20 and we head out to get beer and ice cream.
One of the big treats in Mexico are the American Thrifty Ice Cream parlors popping up everywhere. We find one in town and get a cone for everyone to cool down. Summer promptly drops her bubblegum flavor onto the floor. After a quick cleanup, we head out.
As we wander through town, I see the tell-tale signs of a nearby mining property. The buggy whips on the back of the ubiquitous white Toyota trucks, the gleam of reflective tape on pants and shirt sleeves and the picture badges hanging off pocket flaps of workers who come in to the Thrifty, seeking some reprieve from the heat themselves. The old copper mine in Santa Rosalia has been purchased by a Korean consortium and there is a flurry of work to get it to production. They may actually be already producing. I love the mining culture and it does make me a bit worksick for mining and I can't help but wonder where I will end up in 2015. The wealth it has brought to this town is obvious and you do not see the closed businesses or shut up homes, resulting from the recession, as you might see in other places.
Putting our Spanish to work, we get the location of the mercado and head there for our provisions. The store is well stocked and we find everything we were hoping for.
At only 75 nm, we will leave for San Carlos when we return to the boat, and should arrive in the early AM. We pull anchor and head out, motoring at about 6 knots. We have to make a pretty straight shot and there is no wind to really speak of, so we are likely motoring the whole way. We will later learn that experienced cruisers do not head out until about 1 AM, at which time they look across the sea to San Carlos to see if there is any storm activity. If they do not see lightening or thunderheads, they head out. Being newbies, we just went for it.
We have the autopilot set for course and I throw a cushion on deck so Mike and I can tag team the journey over. I go first, but when it is my time to give up the helm, I cannot possibly sleep. Usually, on these night passages, we will be far from any land through the course of the night. This time, we will be getting into the bay near Algodones at about 2 AM. If we fall asleep, or nod off, Mangas would just keep going until we ran aground right up the beach. I can't sleep.
We see the lights of San Carlos and we see some lights from pangas off shore doing night fishing. On the radar, I see a large line about 500 meters off our starboard to the southwest, but it is complete darkness over the water. It is moving and getting closer. I hope that it is just a panga, but not being able to see something that close is a bit disconcerting.
We have a large outcropping of rocks that turn into small islets jutting out of the water to the north that we cannot see, but we have put their GPS coordinates in the plotter to make sure we avoid them. We proceed in slowly to the bay and realize we have it all to ourselves. At 2 AM, we drop anchor and hit the sack.
 | ||
| Bahía Algodones |
We took our dinghy to Marina Real that lies in the corner of Bahía Algodones and we visit the office to check availability. She has a slip that can take our depth - Yay! She asks how long we are looking for and we say until October and then there is big pause before she shakes her head. Right now, the high tides are gaining about 1 meter. For many of the channels that sit at 6 or 7 feet as they approach marinas, that means that we need to go in at high tide. In October, those high tides will drop to 1 foot. No bueno for our 8 1/2 foot draft. We can get in now, but we won't be able to get out again in October. Even at full moon and new moon, there is no guarantee that we will get the depth we require.
We return to the boat just in time to tie up the dinghy and sit out a chubasco that has built up in the afternoon. Chubasco's are a result of the monsoon activity on shore and the blow it creates off shore can be quite a thing for boats. This particular chubasco seems to hit gusts of around 30 knots, sustaining winds of about 25 knots. I watch as a shrimp boat comes in from the sea to seek refuge from the winds and swells. It rocks ominously starboard to port and back again as it navigates into the bay.
Pangas soon join the now anchored shrimp boat and everyone takes a siesta to wait out the chubasco.
 | ||
| Waters look deceivingly calmer than what we were experiencing |
Meanwhile, we are contacting other marinas and haul outs trying to find a place for Mangas. We are disappointed that we will not be able to stay in Algodones, the green mountains and red rock are spectacular, we feel right at home here.
After the chubasco dies down, we decide to head out and over to San Carlos to anchor so that we will be closer to other options that we need to check out. We ask a local cruiser weather contact about the swells and they say they are dying down, so out we go.
OK, those swells did not die down. We are pushing through 15 foot swells and trying to hit them at a good 40 degree angle to ride them up and back down, but every now and again, I have to head into the trench to keep our bearing. On one particular turn, a huge swell hits us broadside and we heel over with the starboard side of the deck hitting water. OK, let's not do that again.
We pull into the bay, and again, it is simply stunning. The monsoon rain activity has resulted in a desert that is popping bright green. We get on the radio and inquire about the mooring balls. We are told that you need to test them, but it should not be an issue for us to attach to one for a couple of days. We pick up a ball and get hooked and then head in to the marina to visit with old friends that we have not seen since Mazatlan.
 | |
| Mooring ball and anchorage area outside of Marina San Carlos |
 |
| Another view of the bay with the sea beyond the saddle in the picture above. |
So, problems with staying in San Carlos:
- No one has slip availability for our depth
- The haul-outs all all trailers, except for one, which has a travel lift
- The one with the travel lift is in the back of Bahia San Carlos where all entries drop to 6 feet depth in October, November
Another San Carlos option might be the mooring ball. We learn that some are managed and available. Mike is not sold that a mooring ball will hold Mangas during a hurricane, but I am sold on the $100/month price tag.
Luckily, on day two, we speak to Marina San Carlos and learn that someone has just vacated a 65 foot slip that is at the edge of the marina where the depth is 12 feet. Yay!!
I am not excited about the price tag, but I am excited to not be making a fast run over to San Felipe. San Felipe itself was not necessarily smooth sailing since the difference between low and high tides is an awesome 22 feet. We would have to stay about 2 miles off shore and then come in at just the right time to avoid getting hung up. Yikes.
We slip in the following morning and find another Wauquiez on the same dock. Two other sailboats on our dock have full-time residents, and we quickly get a great network of fellow boaters.
Now the prep for the boat to get her ready to be shut up until we return in October...
No comments:
Post a Comment