Santo Domingo Bay and Sweet Pea Cove

The white sand beach of Santo Domingo with the entrance to Bahía de Concepción on the opposite shore

Heading out of Escondido, we decided to get up to Bahía de Concepción, another 70+ nm to the north. That meant a night sail and we had good winds for it. We set the sails and got another good port tack that would take us out for a bit at about 5.5 knots. As we passed near Loreto, we heard the familiar zzzzinnng on the ugly stick fishing pole hanging off the back. Mike turned us into the wind and did a heave to maneuver to slow us down. 

We have become very efficient at heaving to, and it has come in quite handy on many occasions. When we do this, we are folding the genoa jib sail in the front sort of unto itself. So if we are on a port tack, which means the wind is coming over the port (or left) side of the boat, our genoa and our main are both on the starboard side to catch the wind. By turning to a starboard tack, but keeping the genoa set for a port tack, the wind is now blowing on the outside of the sail cloth, but the main is now on a starboard tack. This creates two competing forces and as a result, voila! the boat slows down to a near stop and you can do what you need to do. This can be a necessary emergency tactic for strong storm winds, but luckily, we have only used it when we need to be taking care of something that is difficult to do if we are underway. 

OK, back to our little fishy. So we start to reel it in. Everyone is excited. Is that a yellow color on the tail?! What is it? Yellow Fin? Dorado? And, inevitably....it's a skip jack. I feel that we are cursed to only pull in skip jack and at this point I am starting to wonder if the only break to this curse is to actually eat one. We actually soaked our last ones in milk, as recommended by the local fisherman, but ended up having to give it to someone else. They did later eat it and said it was good. Still skeptical. I still remember the taste from that skip jack in 2000, and I am not in any hurry to repeat that culinary experience. We pull it in as we debate whether to keep it. The kids are voting to keep, of course they do not have to clean it. Mike and I are looking at each other like, are you going to be the first to say, let's throw it back? As we are waiting for the other to say what we are both thinking, this damn thing is flopping all over, spraying the inside of the cockpit with blood. Ugghh!  I finally break, "Throw it out!" We do and it swims off on its merry way. Meanwhile, it has managed to spray every inch of the cockpit. It seriously looks like a Chicago slaughterhouse onboard. Blech! That's it! From now on, skip jacks are strictly Catch and Release!

We release the sails from the heave to and continue on. 

The night was uneventful, but had great wind for the majority that scooted us along at about 5 knots or so. There were a few hours where we needed to motor, but the batteries can always use a top off and fresh water can be made at the same time.

Morning dawns and we can see the land ahead that marks the tip of the entry to the bay. We look at the guide and see that there is a nice beach on the north of the tip called Santo Domingo and we decide to head into that. Wind takes us nearly all the way, but as we approach, we bring down the sails and start the engine to allow for more maneuverability. There are two sails and one motor vessel already in the bay, but it is a large area so we swing around and approach from the northwest to avoid the shallow shoals. After a bit of shuffling around, we find a spot at about 18 feet that allows us to just barely tuck back far enough to get some protection from winds that whip around the eastern point of the bay. The water is crystal clear. You can see everything along the bottom and the kids immediately jump in to retrieve clam shells they can spot down below.

Sonoran vistas surrounding Santo Domingo

The land has received a lot of rain and the desert plants are lush, fragrant and green. Lots of critters abound and Mike captured a nice snap of a most particularly curious fellow below.

A young Desert Jack Rabbit with those lovely big ears

Bay to ourselves with Mangas in background

The following morning, the other boats had pulled out and we had the cove to ourselves.
We took the dinghy on to shore with all of the snorkel gear. We found lots of long narrow rock shelves just under the water that were teeming with little fish. Floating over the top with a snorkel, just letting the current carry you over the small rocks and sea weed patches and then further over the large boulders with some reef life is so peaceful. There were many wrasses with their bright pinks and blues and yellows and many starfish. The reef area itself is not very healthy, but it is hard to tell if it is declining or coming back. I saw a bright parrot fish scrapping off nibbles from the rocks and many triggerfish and bass. We could have easily floated out there all day.

Snorkling crew in the crystal clear blue

Mike decided it was high time to get out his speargun and bring home some dinner. He headed out over the reef area and quickly came up with a good 12-inch grunt fish. Dinner! We sent him back for another and he rose again with a 10-inch grunt and all smiles. Nice to know we can bring home fresh fish when the ugly stick fails us. 

Mike with the smaller of his two grunts getting ready to filet

He is anxious to get out again to spear the following morning. Unfortunately, that night, as Mike was securing the deck for the night, I hear a rain of obscenities from topside. Mike has ripped open his pinky toe on a latch setup for the line bags. 

I bring him down and take a look. He has ripped it right along the seam at the inside base of the toe where it meets the foot. I quickly grab our first aid kit and get out the hydrogen peroxide, antibiotic gel and bandages. As I lift the toe up to look underneath, I see a gaping hole and much of the inner workings of the toe. Blech. I am debating whether we need to seek medical care for stitches and, meanwhile, telling Mike it doesn't look too bad, it's fine. Luckily, he can't see it from his vantage point. 

There is blood, but not a lot because the way the pinky toe naturally curls, it keeps the gash closed. I pour the hydrogen peroxide and squirt in copious amounts of antibiotics. Then I try the steri-strips, but the gel and the position of the wound won't allow them to adhere. I wrap it with gauze and tape it with water repellent tape and call it good. Due to its location and the fact that the skin gap is naturally closed by the toe's position, we decide that stitches are not going to do any better. Being that it is the foot, we start him on a course of antibiotics just for good measure. He will be out of the water now for at least a week.

As gorgeous as it is in the bay, it is hot. "Biloxi Blues" keeps playing in my mind with Matthew Broderick marching and bemoaning, "This is hot, this is like Africa hot". We need to stay undercover from about 9 AM until about 6 PM because the heat and the cloudless sky makes for a very uncomfortable day. Mornings and evenings are awesome, but we are beginning to wonder if we can take the oppressive heat for the next 2 months before it breaks. Unfortunately, Mike cannot even get a break with a swim since he is now boat bound. 

We had planned to get a bit of provisions at the tienda in Bahía de Concepción, but learn that provisions are scarce there outside of the cruising season. We decide to head north to Santa Rosalia for the provisions.

It should only take us a day to get up to Sweet Pea Cove just outside of Santa Rosalia where we will anchor. Wind is great for half the day and then nothing in the afternoon and we are forced to motor. Coming along the eastern side of Isla San Marcos we look to its eastern shore line to see if we can spot an anchorage, but quickly decide to stick to the original plan and motor over to the western side and Sweet Pea Cove. The flying fish are also active. We saw hundreds of these on our recent crossing and we really enjoy watching them  - although we do not enjoy when they actually make it on deck. They go incredible distances, hundreds of yards flying along the surface. They look like little bright silver metallic birds skimming along the swells. As we near the tip of the turn and are about to make a west heading - zzzzziiiinng! The ugly stick sounds off and we have something on the line. 

Mike quickly gets not the reel and starts to bring it in. "What is it?!"  The kids yell. Skip Jack, I think. It suddenly flies out of the water and lands on its side. OMG! Is that what we think it is? A Dorado! Woohoo! Finally. 

Dorado! (aka Mahi-Mahi)

We pull him in and he is absolutely beautiful. We know that he will provide some fresh fish meals for a few days to come. We quickly put him in the cooler and the kids keep checking to watch his colors change. The fish is no longer alive and its scales go completely grey, then Reid adds water to cool it down and it turns green again. This keeps the kids entertained for most of the afternoon. 

Fish secure, we head around the north tip of the island to Sweet Pea Cove. Already in the cove are two boats that had been at Santo Domingo and we quickly chat it up with them on the radio to announce our big catch. They both had luck with Dorado that day as well, so everyone is well stocked.

After setting anchor at 30 feet, Mike gets down to the business of cleaning the fish. Once the kids are past the initial wonder and excitement induced by the cleaning, they join me on deck and watch the incredible water show in the cove. 

Future fish cleaners getting a lesson

This cove is just a flurry of activity. There are schools of large fish being chased to the surface and jumping out to avoid, who knows what, everywhere you look. There are at least 30 or so small rays slapping the surface all over the cove. Together these activities create a cacophony of sounds that reverberate off of the cove walls. It is really loud. Not sure what is lurking below and driving all the activity?  The kids and I decide to skip the evening swim. 

Once the filets are ready, it is already quite late, so I soak them in lime and tequila and prepare them for the next day. Instead, we eat a quick pasta meal and call it a day. We throw all of the cushions on deck and get our sleeping arrangements organized. It is about 11 PM by this time and the activity on the water has not abated. In fact, it seems to be getting even more frenzied. Even larger fish are flying out of the water avoiding something or some things. The rays are slapping harder, or probably just seems that way. And then, there is another sound. In the darkness, it sounds like a diver breaking up through the surface and taking deep breaths of air before heading down again. It is a disconcerting noise, until I realize that the noise is coming from sea lions who have come to feed. Everyone else is asleep, but I cannot help staying awake, looking at the stars and listening to all of the crazy and spectacular sounds.