Carrie & Bryan, Marina Costa Baja, April 2007

Log 35  April 2, 2007    Return to La Paz!!

Yes, it's true.  This is a new log entry for the Salty Dog website.  We felt compelled to update the site with a bit of new info for all of you who have missed reading about our crazy sailing adventures, and additionally to chronicle our trip back up the Baja Peninsula.

After ten months back home in California,  we came to realize that we would not financially be able to return to Mexico for another cruising season. Bryan and I therefore knew we needed to return to La Paz and bring Salty Dog back to her home waters.  We had missed her so much.  Living aboard and cruising for a year most definitely made her feel like part of the family.  I suppose that sounds a bit silly to non-boaters... I don't know if RV'ers get emotionally attached to their motor homes, for instance.  But on a sailboat, making 2-3 day passages offshore, completely out of sight of land, and totally at the mercy of Mother Nature, causes you to put  great deal of trust in your vessel to safely deliver you to your destination.  Salty Dog had been good to us, and like I said, we missed her.  We also didn't want her to go through another hurricane season in Mexico.  Salty Dog rode out Hurricane John last summer, and while she came through it unscathed, Bryan and I were nervous wrecks back home in California, glued to the weather updates on the internet like a couple of neurotic parents.  Friends would say to us, "It doesn't really matter if the boat sinks, though, does it?  It's insured, right?  You could just get a new one."  They just don't get it, I guess.

So we arrived in La Paz on April 2nd to put the boat back together and head home.  It was bittersweet to be back in Marina Costa Baja, home to so many great memories for us.  Our good friends Beth and Leonard from s/v Godspeed were there, as was Kasey from s/v Amalfi, one of our favorite cruising friends.  We all shared a few meals together and enjoyed each others company once again.  We were feeling sad about leaving them, and we'd only been back in Pa Paz for a couple of days!

We got a big surprise on Thursday morning as Beth and I were heading into town to do some provisioning (grocery shopping for all our land-lubber friends).  She and Leonard announced that they had decided to sail Godspeed home to California, as well.  We would be going north together.  What?!?!  We had no idea they were even considering making the trip.  But plans change, and they were ready to return to California, and this way we could buddy boat and keep an eye on each other.  This was really exciting news.  We were honestly a bit stunned though, because like me, Beth had always been quite vocal about not wanting to do the Baja Bash.  She admitted, though, that if she had to do it, she'd only make the trip if they had another boat to partner up with.  And quite honestly, I was extremely relieved to be going with another boat, also.  The "bash" (which we renamed "the bliss" in hopes of bringing good karma our way) is known for being one heck of an unpleasant trip.  I'd like to know we're not out there alone if we get into any trouble.

By Saturday, April 7th, both boats were ready to go and we set out for the first leg of the trip from La Paz to Cabo San Lucas.  After a rough first few hours, the winds and seas calmed down, and we began our first overnight passage in almost a year.  Having not done an overnighter in a while, Bryan and I were a bit rusty, and found it a little difficult to find our on-watch, off-watch rhythm again.    But Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny, and on my morning watch a few hours out of Cabo, I was feeling nostalgic, and found myself writing in the log about the first time we approached the tip of the Baja Peninsula, almost a year and a half earlier.  Here's an excerpt of that log entry:

    Getting back into the swing of night passages last night was a little tough.  I had forgotten how exhausting it can be!  Thank goodness the conditions were mild.  When I got up this morning around 8AM, Bry went back to sleep.  He's pooped.  We're about 2 hours north of Cabo and I can see the arches from here.  I remember what a joyous day it was for us when we rounded those arches for the first time in December 2005 with the Blackwood as our buddy boat.  After 3 weeks coming down the Baja, the civilization of Cabo was a welcome sight.  It feels different this time, going the other direction.  We're all anxious, because we just want to get home as quickly as possible and as comfortably as possible.  And we're a tad apprehensive, because we're not as naive as we were the first time.  We know what kind of conditions we might get out there, although we're praying that it's just calm and blissful. 

    It's also different this time because we don't have the dogs with us.  I miss them.  But I'm glad they won't have to make the trip north.  It will be a lot easier on all of us this way.  It's just odd not to have them underfoot all the time, or to not be knocking over their water bowl in the cockpit. 

We pulled into the gas dock in Cabo around 12:30 PM.  Both boats fueled up, and despite some choppy seas, decided to continue on and get around the infamous Cabo Falso.

BAM!!  As soon as we got around the arches, it was time for foul weather gear.  It was rough, wet, and really, really slow.  Poor Captain Bryan was absolutely drenched.  Oh well, we were in it by then and there was no use turning around.  We beat into it for a few hours, and then thankfully it started to flatten out just a tad.  The current was really cranking and we felt like we were going nowhere fast.  We took a more offshore route and Godspeed stayed close to shore .  Although we didn't intend it, we lost radio contact with one another before nightfall because the distance between us got to bee too great.  Not a good feeling.  Your brain starts to do funny things.  But we pushed those thoughts aside and pressed on, and 48 hours after leaving Cabo we arrived in Bahia Santa Maria.  Much to our disbelief, we were the only boat there.  No Godspeed.  And no radio contact from them for the last 40 hours.  We figured they would have been 4-5 hours ahead of us.  On no, here come those bad thoughts again.  Bry and I started second guessing ourselves, wondering if maybe we misunderstood and were supposed to pull into Mag Bay instead?  But we stuck with what we thought was the plan and dropped the anchor.

Bahia Santa Maria, one of our most favorite anchorages in November 2005, was completely blown out on that particular day.  Huge, rolling swell inside the anchorage, and massive breakers on the beach.  What we had remember as a picturesque and quiet anchorage in 2005 was now the place of crashing waves that sounded like thunder.  No chance of us going to shore in the dingy, that's for sure!  We ate some lunch and took showers, which felt pretty amazing after 48 hours in the same yucky clothes and salt-crusted foul weather gear.  We layed down  and tried to nap, which lasted only about 10 minutes.  The swells were so large under our boat that we'd ride up on one wave, pulling the anchor chain under the boat, and then ride the backside of the wave down, pulling the chain tight again, and causing a deafening chafing noise on the bow roller.  Yikes!  We were up like a flash and outside in an instant.  The swells were building even more now.  There were double breakers on the beach.  And still no Godspeed.  Bryan started to get that look on his face, the one that tells me he's having an uneasy feeling in his gut.  Not good.  He quickly spoke up and said he thought we should go.  If the swells continued to build, we could be in trouble.  And, he said, maybe if we went into Mag Bay we'd find Godspeed there.  Now, I know I'm not the world's most experienced cruiser, but I've spent enough time on the water to know that if the skipper gets a feeling about something, you go with it.  You don't wait around, hemming and hawing.  We have gut feelings for a reason.

We picked up the anchor, exhausted as we were, and headed into Mag Bay around 2:45 PM.  It would be at least four hours before we dropped the hook again.  And, we were kind of going backwards, the wrong way down the Baja, but at least we could get some protection from the seas.

Around 5PM, like music to our ears, Godspeed hailed us on the radio.  They were outside of Mag Bay, about four or five miles from us, and could see us on the horizon when we were high on the top of a swell.  Thank God!  After contemplating if we would need to contact the Coast Guard or Mexican Navy, hearing their voices was honestly like a thousand pound weight had been lifted from us.  Turns out they had gotten a bit beaten up following the coastal track and hadn't made good time.  Just as we had been worried about them, they had been worried sick about us.  They changed course and followed us in to Mag Bay.  Together, both boats were gratefully at anchor around 8PM in Man 'O War Cove, about 8 miles north from the entrance to Mag Bay.  Here it was beautifully flat and calm, and everyone was able to get a much needed full night's rest.