june/july 2018cruisingworld.com61turned out we could have swapped engines each day and still have
kept the hour meters in sync.
As luck would have it, the starboard engine was running when
I retreated for a nap in my aft cabin on that side of the boat.
Mounted on the other side of the bulkhead that was at the foot
of my bunk, it was loud enough for sleep not to be an option. On
this three-cabin cat, Randy and Steve both had forward berths
and Kurt took his siestas on the saloon’s couch, so they weren’t
nearly as bothered by the din. The fix was obvious: From that
time on, mercifully, the port engine was run while I snoozed.
One benefit of sailing in the company of
a lot of boats is that you’re never far from
help. The downside is that at night, you’re
never far from a possible collision. To keep
warm that first night, I kept moving in cir-
cles. I checked the chart plotter, its screen
cluttered with AIS targets; climbed up on
deck to get a look around; then stepped
into the relative warmth of the saloon for
a minute or two before revisiting the chart
plotter again. Far astern, the sky above
San Diego and Tijuana glowed red. To the
east, the lights of Ensenada looked like a
sprawling amusement park’s roller coaster.
Toward the end of my watch, three times a
vessel approached from astern, came quite
close, then motored off in a big circle before
eventually disappearing into the night.
Strange.
T
uesday brought more of the same.
I came on deck at 0700 to find the
mountainous shore shrouded in clouds.
Cabo Colonet, described in the cruising
guide as a large nose on the coast, was
abeam. We were about a third of the way to
Turtle Bay. Our route for the day took us in a
straight line across Bahia Vizcaino and 30 or
40 miles offshore for a time.
Just before 1500, I was sitting in the
saloon when a breeze from astern rustled
papers on the table. Like that, we turned
off the outboard, eased out the main,
hoisted the spinnaker and sailed. My two
hours on the wheel were glorious. For a
while, I set the autopilot and trimmed the
kite. Then I locked off the sheet on the
self-tailing winch and steered. I was like a
kid in a toyshop, and the time flew by. Near
sunset, we whipped up a stir-fry of chicken,
onions, broccoli and rice on the Seawind’s
stainless-steel grill and ate like kings.
And then, as quick as it had picked up,
the wind died. It was another long night of
motoring.
On Wednesday morning, Isla Cedros lay 30 miles ahead.
Decision time. We could sail past it and arrive in Turtle Bay in
the middle of the night, or anchor off its southern tip, at Cedros
Town, then leave at the crack of dawn to cover the last 40 miles
in daylight. We liked that idea better, but we’d risk missing the
infamous Turtle Bay Ha-Ha softball game with our Mexican
hosts. As often happens on a sailboat, we ended up doing some-
thing entirely different. We arrived in Cedros Town just after
dark and tried to anchor but failed to find good holding on the
foul bottom. Defeated, we turned away and immediately snagged
a crab pot with one rudder. As soon as Randy cleared that one,
we snagged another with the other rudder. It was going to be a
long night. We pushed on at half-speed and arrived off Turtle Bay
a couple of hours before sunup.T
urtle Bay was tremendous. The town, Puerto San
Bartolome, was bustling with sailors. Kurt and I wandered
the dirt streets until we found an enormous baseball stadium,
where all afternoon, the Grand Pooh-bah, dressed in American-
flag shorts, lobbed softballs to a seemingly endless stream of
Ha-Ha sailors and Mexicans. Spectacular catches were made.
Base running was heroic. The beer flowed,
well, like beer.
Waterfront cantinas did a brisk business;
everywhere crews from the various boats
hoisted refreshments and traded yarns.
Then on Friday afternoon, there were more
festivities on the beach at the eastern end of
the bay. Margaritas, beer and hot dogs were
in great abundance. Locals drove their cars
and trucks onto the sand and set up parties
of their own. And once again, the Ha-Ha
women, nearly 100 strong, bested the men in
the annual tug of war. It is Baja Ha-Ha lore,
in fact, that they’ve never lost.
At 0900 Saturday, right after the morning
radio net, nearly the entire fleet flew spinna-
kers across the start line. Behind us, the bay
was empty but for a handful of fishing ves-
sels. The carnival had truly come and gone.
The breeze built all day, and we had to
jibe frequently not to stray too far from the
rhumb line to Cabo San Lazaro and our next
port of call at Bahia Santa Maria, 240 nau-
tical miles south. We sailed day and night,
mostly with two reefs in the main and the jib
after dark. Without the outboards running
to top off the batteries, the solar panels on
the cat’s Bimini had a hard time keeping up
with the power demands of the autopilot,
chart plotter, fridge and freezer. The latter
two we turned off in the evening, and we
hand-steered most of the time.
On this part of the coast, the water was
sometimes quite deep, maybe 1,000 feet
or more; other times it was less than 100.
The waves often were confused, but it was
wonderful sailing, and at night, the stars were
stunning.
Saturday and Sunday were the best sailing
days of the trip. The miles rolled by, and life
was easy. By Monday’s radio net, though, the
two days of brisk conditions had seemingly
taken a toll. A few boats reported shredded
spinnakers. A dinghy had been lost but re-
covered by another crew. Watermakers were
on the fritz, and a few alternators had gone on holiday. Radio
chatter indicated the fleet was ready for a landfall.
BAJA RESOURCES
Planning a passage along Baja’s long coast is a challenge if done
while scrolling on a chart plotter. Surprisingly, the West Marine in
San Diego was sold out of paper charts. A helpful tip, though, led us
around the corner to Seabreeze Books and Charts, owned by
Capt. Ann Kinner. Even if you’re not sailing to Cabo, it’s a store worth
visiting — and she’s a proprietor who knows her nautical publications!
§ Aboard Meriwether, Steve Price had two useful guidebooks: Mexico
Boating Guide (second edition) by Capt. Pat Rains, and Charlie’s
Charts of Western Mexico and Baja by Charles and Margo Wood.
Both are available online.CABO OR BUST