Captain Bryan at the entrance to Mag Bay
Captain Bryan at the entrance to Mag Bay
LOG 36 Man 'O War Cove, Magdalena Bay to Abreojos
The frustration begins...
April 11, 2007
Wednesday morning, Man 'O War Cove, inside Mag Bay... There were five other boats here in addition to us and Godspeed - three sailboats, one catamaran, and 1 trawler. We met with Gregory, the port captain, and checked in. Easy. We ordered 40 gallons of diesel from him to be delivered the next day, and then dingied over to visit with Beth and Leonard. We rested most of the day, and then had a chicken dinner aboard Godspeed.
On Thursday we dingied over and to introduce ourselves to s/v Flame, Paul and Debbie from Ventura. Later that afternoon they invited everyone "vacationing" in Man 'O War cove to their boat for cocktails. We attended, of course, as did Beth and Leonard, and Joe and Kathy from Katy Kat. Everyone brought snacks. We got to know each other, checked out Paul and Debbie's J40, and talked about our weather concerns. Before we departed for the evening, we all agreed to talk again the next day to compare weather notes.
After listening to the Amigo net Friday morning and hearing Don's doom and gloom forecast for the next week, Joe invited everyone to his boat for a strategy session. It was windy and choppy in the anchorage, and after getting soaked in the dingy picking up Beth and Leonard, Beth and I opted to forego the rest of the trip to Katy Kat and stayed aboard. The guys beat their way to Joe and Kathy's boat, while we visited on Salty Dog and tried to warm up. While we were waiting for them to return, my mom called on the cell phone (technology is great!) to give us the weather info she could pull off the BajaInsider.com website. Her info was much more encouraging than Don's. The guys returned from the weather pow-wow and confirmed that they, too, were getting much more positive readings from the weather fax and grib files that Paul and Joe were able to download. Consensus was that we would leave in the pre-dawn hours on Saturday for Turtle Bay.
April 14, 2007
We all left Man 'O War around 4:30 AM Saturday - Godspeed, Flame, Casablanca, Solitude, Katy Kat, and us. The first twelve or so hours were fine, and we even were able to motorsail at about 5.5 - 6.0 knots. Nightfall brought a little more chop, but still an okay ride. I went on watch just before 6 AM, and by 7 AM, as the sun was coming up, the wind and seas really began to pick up. At 7 AM, I felt it necessary to wake up Bryan to assess the conditions. It wasn't but ten minutes later that we got a report from Casablanca that at his position just north of us he was getting wind readings of close to 30 knots. We decided to put a second reef in the main and alter our course for San Juanico - a good windy weather anchorage, but about 30 miles east of our rhumb line to Turtle Bay. Bummer. We really were hoping to make it much farther on this leg. We are really behind schedule, and I'm pretty stressed about it. I know there isn't anything I can do about it, but I'm stressed nonetheless. Cruising is much more enjoyable when you aren't on a schedule. And, I'm missing my dogs terribly.
From the log, April 15, 2007
Well, it has been another night out in the crap. Cold. Wind on the nose. Uncomfortable seas. Seems like a pattern! Nightfall didn't bring any relief. Everybody in our caravan is tired. Not sure yet if we'll be pressing on to Turtle Bay, or pulling in somewhere for relief.
From the log, April 16, 2007
After much uncertainty about what the weather was going to do and if the wind was going to lay down, it finally did around 8:15 PM. Just like that. We all decided to beat feet out of San Juanico and see how far we can get by Tuesday night or Wednesday morning. Personally, I'm hoping for Turtle Bay. Then at least we'll feel like we've accomplished something... like we've made it at least half way home.
11:00 PM, Same night... Back on the hook in San Juanico. The conditions were too much.
April 17, 2007
San Juanico, 166 miles south of Turtle Bay...
That's right. We're stuck here in San Juanico, and from the sounds of the weather reports, it looks like we'll be here until Friday or Saturday. I had hoped and planned to be home by tomorrow, and the reality is we won't he home for at least another 8 or 10 days. We aren't even half way. The wind has consistently been blowing 25-30 knots everyday, right on our nose, causing us to be unable to do in 15 to 20 hours what a car on the highway could do in one hour. This trip is turning out to be one of the most frustrating experiences of my life. I'm home sick, I miss my dogs, and I feel guilty and totally helpless about not meeting my work obligations. I've been crying a lot from the stress of it all. I try not to, at least in front of Bryan, because I know he feels hand enough as it is that he can't make it all better.
It's pretty ironic, really. In all my years, sailing and being on the ocean has been my happy place, the place I want to be when the rest of the world gets me down. Now, I would give almost anything to get off this boat and be back home. I'm really unhappy. I wish I could catch a bus from here and go back to California. Unfortunately, the would leave Bryan all alone out here, and I can't do that.
To make matters worse, I only provisioned for about 10 days. I figured I would get more food in Turtle Bay. We're still doing okay, but eating a lot less that usual to stretch our supplies. It's a good way to drop a few pounds, I guess. Additionally, I didn't bring along as much cash as I probably should have. We thought we'd only need to get fuel in Turtle Bay, but as it turned out, we had to get it in Mag Bay. The trip from Cabo to Mag was so slow and we were beating into the current the whole way, we burned a whole tank of fuel. I think we have just enough cash left to fill the tank in Turtle Bay, but probably not enough for any groceries. As humbling as it may be, we'll probably have to bum a few pesos from Beth and Leonard at some point. Unless, by some miracle, Turtle Bay has gotten an ATM machine in the last 18 months!
It's now Tuesday, about noon, and Paul on Casablanca got anxious and made a run for it. In his favor is the fact that his boat motors along at about 7 knots, which is something Godspeed and Salty Dog could ever hope to accomplish in these conditions. Good for him. I hope he makes some progress north. What a trooper he is - as a singlehander, I wouldn't want to be out there if in fact the winds ratchet up to 30+ knots as forecast. Talk about miserable. Not to mention the threat of breaking something.
I keep finding myself wondering how to explain all of this weather drama to our non-sailor friends... It's hard for me to come to grips with how trapped we truly are, so I can only imagine what friends at home must think! Probably that we're sitting in some beautiful anchorage, sipping margaritas, and laughing about how we have them all fooled. Hah. Fat chance. Just for "fun," here's a little list I've compiled for them about what life on a sailboat bashing north up the Baja is really like:
1) Realizing that you won't be able to wash your bed linens until you get to Ensenada, which could be a couple more weeks! Hopefully your boat isn't taking water through the dorade and getting the sheets wet with salt water, since that doesn't really dry very well. When you're already freezing from your overnight watch, the last thing would want to do is climb into a soggy bunk.
2) At home, you can shower whenever you want to or need to. This is not always the case on a moving sailboat. Not only could it be hazardous to your health, but you may or may not have hot water, and you know how much fun an ice cold shower is!
3) You have to monitor your water consumption, especially if you don't have a water maker. But even if you have a water maker, you can't run it all the time or in all conditions, so every drop counts.
4) If you run out of food before you get to Turtle Bay, you can't just run to the store for more! Provisioning well takes on a whole new level of importance, or you may end up like us, eating boxed mashed potatoes and creamed corn more than you ever wanted to.
5) Keep your trash to a minimum, because there may not be anywhere to throw it away for quite awhile. And if it stinks... not much you can do about it!
6) Monitor your fuel consumption carefully, because you won't be able to pull into the service station for more. If you run out of diesel, you might as well start sailing for Hawaii, because you won't make it up to Ensenada without a good southerly breeze.
7) Cell phone coverage - you'll be lucky if you have signal 25% of the time. You just have to hope your loved ones haven't sent out the Coast Guard since they haven't heard from you in so long.
8) At home you have cable TV. On the boat you have movies on the laptop that you watch over and over and over.
9) At home you have a dishwasher. On the boat, I AM THE DISHWASHER... 3 or 4 times a day!
10) Going to the restroom on a sailboat bashing up the Baja is reminiscent of the fun house at the county fair: The floor is moving up and down, you're trying not to go airborne, and there are lots of interesting things that can happen to you in there. And at home, or even on an airplane, you just flush the toilet after you go, right? On a sailboat bashing up the Baja, flushing the toilet requires serious skills... The ability to stand up and turn around in a small space, brace yourself so you don't go flying, pump the handle with one hand and hold on for dear life with the other. Good times.
11) Cooking in those conditions is great fun, as well. Beans are easy - they stick to the pot. Boiling water, on the other hand, is a recipe for disaster.
12) And you'd probably have better luck sleeping on a roller coaster than on a sailboat doing the bash in 10 foot swells spaced 8 seconds apart.
13) Prepare to dress like you're vacationing in Alaska. Three layers wasn't really enough most of the time, especially at night. You certainly don't get to come home with a tan. Wind burn maybe, but definitely not a tan.
14) And don't think you're one of those people who never gets seasick. EVERYONE, even the saltiest sailors among us, get a little queasy in those kinds of conditions!
From the log, April 18, 2007
No wind all night. By morning, a slight southerly breeze. By 10 AM, Paul was gone, and by 10:30 AM Salty Dog and Godspeed had also hoisted anchor. What the hell - we won't really know what it's like unless we get out there.
Not too bad for the first few hours. Pretty choppy from about 1 PM - 5 PM. Unfortunately, after making grilled cheese sandwiches for us for dinner, I got a queasy stomach that I couldn't shake all night long. Bry pretty much single-handed all the way to Abreojos. The wind was really shifty, so I did help him with the tacks, but not much else. Bad first mate.
Around 6 PM that night, we had a brief scare when Paul, s/v Casablanca, told us he had "bumped" into a shoal. He thought he was further offshore than he actually was, and got himself into some pretty shallow waters. Scared the bejesus out of him, but he stayed extremely calm, and was able to power off the shoal. I'm glad it wasn't worse, and more importantly, that we were all in the vicinity if he had needed help.
It got really cold after the sun set, but Captain Bryan is such a trooper and stayed outside the whole way to Abreojos, letting me tend to my upset stomach inside the warm boat. I came on deck about 1:30 AM for the final hour pulling into the dark anchorage. We got the anchor set, checked in with our buddy boats, and were in bed by 3 AM.