Crossing the Sea of Cortez

Crossing Sea of Cortez
We had our fill of Mazatlán and plotted our course on the charts to La Paz. Dave went through the engine and checked all the fluid levels and fired her up to make sure that all was well. Everything checked out, the engine sounded great, and we had our weather window for the next morning. We had watched the ocean swell build during our stay. When we first arrived, we didn’t notice and weren’t able to hear the waves but as the days went by we began to hear the waves pounding the breakwater. Soon, not only could we hear the pounding of the waves, but we could watch as the waves hit the breakwater and then exploded skyward 10-20 feet in the air. The sea state had changed dramatically during our stay in Mazatlán. We were going to have to fight significant swell to exit the harbor safely with rocks on either side of a very narrow channel. We altered our departure time to coincide with slack tide because our full keel boat catches a lot of water. We had a narrow window to get out of the harbor and then make our way to the marinas on the north end of the city which is the only place to take on fuel and water and we needed both. We left during my shift, so I was at the helm. Dave pulled the anchor and I moved the throttle forward and began to pick up speed. We moved out of the anchorage and into the main channel. I gave her more throttle and noticed that she seemed sluggish and the engine didn’t sound right. Dave went below and began working on the engine to see what was wrong. Do I turn back? No. Keep going forward. There are other boats waiting to enter and leave and it was slack tide, if we turned back then we would have to wait until the next day to leave. I needed to hold my position. I began to head out of the safety of the harbor and into the swell and my speed was dropping rapidly, and the engine sounded even worse. The waves were not coming directly at us, they were at an angle to the entrance. I was not making much headway and the breakwater on the starboard side seemed oh so close. I angled directly into the swell to reduce the resistance on the keel and was able to make headway and clear the breakwater. Finally, I was able to make it to deeper water and not have to worry as much about the swell and getting pushed into the rocks. Dave remained down below. He found a fuel leak and where the fuel could leave the system it also meant that air could get in compromising the compression and markedly reducing power. No surprise there, I had hardly any power, I could barely make 1 knot. We slowly made our way up to the north end of town and the marina district. It had taken too long, and we had missed our opportunity to use slack tide to enter the marina district. The entrance was even more narrow than the one we just left, and the swell is so big that we couldn’t even see the entrance. We knew that in addition to being very narrow, it was also shallow, there was very little room for error to make that entrance and we were going to need a whole lot of engine which we didn’t have. We didn’t have enough engine to enter either the marinas or to get back into the harbor. A check of the services that Mazatlán had to offer, and we realized that we cannot get what we need to fix the engine and our passports are scheduled to arrive in La Paz not Mazatlán. Another agonizing decision…. do we try this crossing with no engine to speak of, very low on water and low on fuel or do we lurk outside of the harbor until there is a break in the swell and try to get back into Mazatlán? At the moment our best bet seemed to be pushing forward to La Paz. Once again, our journey to La Paz seems fraught with problems. We are beginning to think that La Paz doesn’t want us or the Dragon doesn’t want to be there. At any rate, the powers that be seem to be against us but we feel like we have no choice and must push forward.
The afternoon thermal winds built, and we are able to put some distance between us and the mainland. We want to make sure and keep a substantial distance between us and land so that we don’t get pushed into shore by the tide and swell since we don’t have the engine to overcome it if we do get too close to shore. By the time Dave took over we had good winds and were making 6.2 knots. At this rate we will make La Paz in 3 – 4 days, right on schedule. The winds were short lived however and died as the sun set and the sea state became a flat glassy calm, such a contrast to what we were dealing with just hours before. We sat in essentially the same place for the next 24 hours. It became clear that it will be at least a week before we make it to La Paz and no one knew of our situation. We still felt like we needed to get to La Paz if we had any hope of fixing the engine, but I was worried about family. What would they think when the days stretched to a week or more? We decided to turn and move with the current and drift back towards shore until we could pick up some sort of cell service so that we could notify family of the change in our expected arrival. We began to see land and finally we each got a bar of service and send messages to several people so that they know that it will be a week or more before we arrive in La Paz. We turn back around and start heading into deeper water to get away from the currents and look for wind. We find light winds and were able to travel 1-2 miles per hour, we were once again making progress towards our destination.
Our next issue to deal with was water. We had very little fresh water on the boat. When we were in the states last, Dave did some trading with Aaron at Longship Marine in Poulsbo and acquired a manual reverse osmosis desalination pump. It was time to put it to the test. We pumped some water and tasted it. Not bad and after 24 hours neither of us were sick. We each began to complete 2 half hour shifts per day pumping water which gave us about 4 gallons of potable water per day. Things were looking up a bit. We were getting light afternoon and evening winds, we were making progress to our destination, and we now were making more water than we were using. We had made it to a part of the Sea of Cortez where the current always seemed to be flowing in so even when there was no wind, we were still moving North and West.
Since our going was so slow, we had time to enjoy several wild life encounters. We were escorted by a group of dolphins for part of one day. If you recall, dolphins seem to precede wind events for us. I went up on the bowsprit to take pictures of the dolphins and to give them a little pep talk. In a previous life, I spent a lot of time working with animals. There are very few people who read this blog who knew me from that time. Most of you know me as a healthcare professional but I spent most of my childhood as a tomboy. I liked to climb trees and held the record for the greased pole climb. I only wore shoes when I went to school or when someone made me. I was barefoot even in the corrals, slopping through the manure. People kept telling my Mom that I would get worms, Mom would just shrug her shoulders and say, “Well she hasn’t yet.” I rarely combed my hair. I was a vision, I assure you. My brother Joe’s friend Scot tagged me with the nickname “Grubbo” which stuck until I went to high school. It was during this time that I learned how to work with animals and became quite an accomplished showman. I have shown every domestic animal there is from rabbits to horses to pigs to sheep and goats. I was a nationally recognized champion dairy goat showman. People would hire me to show their goats. When I was in the ring sometimes spectators would complain that it wasn’t my showmanship rather they thought my animal was trained. When that happened, the judge would take my animal away from me and make me show the worst behaved animal in the ring. One instance a boy was having a terrible time with his animal, it was rearing and throwing itself on the ground. The judge gave my animal to the boy and I had to take his. Within moments I had the goat calmed down and parading around the ring. When I work with animals I make a barely audible clicking sound with my tongue. I don’t know if it is soothing to them or interesting, but they almost always respond. At any rate, I was up on the bowsprit, clicking away and soon there were several dolphins right below me, so I started chatting with them. I was going on and on about our current situation and lamenting our lack of wind and telling them that I hoped they would hold up their end of the deal and usher in some wind for us. At one point I looked down and one of the dolphins had turned on its side and was looking up very intently at me as if it was listening to my rant. I snapped the picture and thanked it for listening and it then turned away and resumed its play with the others.

We also saw sea turtles everywhere and one especially appreciated our slow pace. He hung out with us making use of the shade our boat provided and then he realized that we also had some growth on our rudder and snacked on some morsels that he found there. It was immensely gratifying to see so many sea turtles hoping this is a result of the protection and recovery efforts directed at saving sea turtles.

Our other wildlife encounter was not so pleasant, actually quite a nuisance. Since we were moving so slow, the booby birds felt entitled to use us as a perch. If they land on the mast they can damage our electronics so we must be diligent to keep them at bay and discourage them from perching on the boat. In addition, they leave a big stinky mess. We spent time during all our day shifts using all sorts of strategies to keep them off the boat. I missed one who landed up on the bowsprit so before I shoed him off I made use of a photo op. I had heard that the booby birds here in the Sea of Cortez really have no fear of humans and this one clearly did not. I ended up physically pushing him off the bowsprit because he was not the least bit concerned by my presence even when I made lots of noise and aggressive movements towards him.

Our days settled into a routine. We were trying a different watch schedule. We each took a 6-hour shift during the day and then switched to 4-hour shifts at night. The longer day shift meant that there was time to do more than just sleep. We cooked some meals rather than just eating finger food. We were able to spend time pumping water without taking away from our sleep time. The other big benefit was every other night we only had one-night shift which meant 2 solid blocks of sleep time at night and since it is a rolling schedule then we aren’t always stuck on the same shift. It seemed to work a little better than a set 4 on 4 off schedule. The days slowly trickled by. I tracked our progress on the paper charts daily instead of at the end of each shift. We were right on the course that we had plotted in Mazatlán. At last we could see land in the distance. We made it across the Sea, we had our destination nearly in our sights. The winds were slowly building. Initially the heavier winds felt good but slowly the direction shifted and within a couple hours they were directly on our nose and the currents were building as well. We went through a complete tidal swing and regardless of whether it was an incoming or outgoing tide, the Sea was pushing out against us. The day started out looking good with forward progress but as the day pressed on and everything built against us, the GPS showed that we were slowly being pushed south. South????? This brought back memories of Cabo and our previous failed attempt to reach La Paz. What is this relationship we have with La Paz? We were not going back to Cabo! We fought, we tacked, we jibed, we even tried to use what little engine we had but still could not make any headway around Isla Cerralvo. We could see the channel we needed to get to but couldn’t get there and still the conditions were building against us. I was at the helm and the boat started “bunny hopping” across the waves and tacked very unexpectedly. I could not recover my position and we had way too much sail out for the conditions and direction. We had to drop the main which means that Dave must take a beating while I try to keep the boat into the wind. We were finally able to get the main down and a little headsail up, so we had some control while we floated on the current south. We would try to anchor at Los Muertos and then figure out how we were going to get to La Paz. Dave took over the helm and I feeling completely deflated and frustrated went below to try to get some sleep. Overnight, the wind completely died and we were once again adrift. Dave had put all the sails back up to try to catch anything. I took over just before daylight. During my shift, the winds started to build once again but they were manageable and once again from the north. For half of my shift we were being pushed nicely to Los Muertos. I was looking forward to some down time. Halfway through my shift the winds started to die and about 15 minutes later, they piped up…..from the south. Winds on the nose again. It would appear that we could go neither north around the island or south around the island. Dave came up to relieve me and he couldn’t believe it either. We initially decided to try to get around the island by staying close to it but there was another channel between the island and the baja that we had originally nixed because the guide books spoke about the strong north winds and currents. At the moment we had wind taking us into that channel. A quick adjustment of the sails and we decided to try it. If we got turned back then tomorrow we would try to go around the island again. For the next 6 hours, Dave finessed the wind and sails and we were able to make it over halfway up the channel. The next 6 hours, my shift, proved less successful but instead of battling big wind and current, we had nothing. We did have entertainment though. Clearly the Sea has a sense of humor and was toying with us. We were treated to rays feeding and playing. They would leap out of the water and “fly” across the surface before belly flopping so we were completely entertained. The sound they make when they hit the water can be heard for miles. It was another one of those National Geographic moments that take your breath away. I finished by shift and went down to sleep and Dave took the opportunity to do some jury rigging to the engine and by the time I took the helm at 2300, I had engine with some power and the winds were starting to build. I was worried though. I was going to have to negotiate the San Lorenzo channel in the dark with only one channel marker lit but we had cell service and the La Paz was just through the channel and around the corner. Only 16 more miles surrounded by anchorages…..and the reefs that protect them. Even if we couldn’t make La Paz, we just needed to stay off the reefs until daylight when we could either call for a tow or make our way into an anchorage. It took a couple hours to come through the channel but I had cleared the reefs that lined the channel and still had good wind and the engine was cooperating. Within 30 min the winds went from good to directly on the nose and from 12 knots to over 20 knots. The tide was outgoing and being driven by the wind with only 1-2 seconds between each wave and we were pounding into it. The engine began to fail…again and I was being driven backwards into the Isla Espiritu. I called for Dave, we tried different heading and strategies but ultimately the powers of Mother Nature turned us back again. We followed our tracks on the Garmin and went back out of the channel. Our friends on Tabula Rasa sent us the wind and tide report. We would make one more attempt in the morning before trying to find a place to anchor the boat. We were so close, only 16 miles away and still couldn’t get there. Dave was at the helm now and he lurked in the channel entrance for the next 4 hours waiting to make one last attempt. The sun came up we moved out of the entrance to let the ferry go through and then we lined ourselves up to take the channel at a diagonal which would put us on course for the first anchorage in the bay. We still had wind and waves but not nearly as much as the night before. The engine sputtered and surged but kept us moving ever so slowly forward. It took hours but we were able to make it through the San Lorenzo channel and then we ghosted along various anchorages along the way to La Paz. We had engine power but very little. Those 16 miles clicked slowly by at 1-2 knots but we were making it. We could actually see the entrance to La Paz. We were both exhausted but we slowly made it and we were able to drop anchor by our friends. Eight days to travel 345 miles. We averaged 1.75 mph. Jayde could have swum the crossing faster than we sailed it but we made it with the cards stacked wildly against us. Poseidon was certainly testing our resolve.

Our lovely friends on Tabula Rasa met us with food, drinks, smokes and a lovely goodie package to welcome us finally. I don’t know what we would do without them. Sailing is so much more fun with friends. We went into town right away to get information and contacts to figure out how to deal with our engine. We got hooked up right away and found a local that could fix our leak. The next day Dave pulled the part which meant he had to tear down the entire top end of the engine. Now we had absolutely no engine. That night the wind piped up again and built and built and we started dragging and we had no engine. I spent the night holding a boat hook as we had dragged very close to a neighboring boat. I was done, overwhelmed, at the end of my rope, and in tears. I needed something to go right. This is the not so glamorous part of my lifestyle. Time will tell how long we were going to be down. Hopefully we would make it to the Sea eventually. Stay tuned.