On the Sea of Cortez

Tuesday 9th April - Monday 15th April

Somehow, we made it through the night. I can't say I helped all that much, except perhaps providing somnolent moral support from the bench in the cockpit. I find this support role is often undervalued. In any case, as glad as I was that we had survived the night, I realised we still had the crossing of the Sea of Cortez to contend with at some point.

One of many isolated, luxurious, and under-used resorts in Baja. I'm told they exist mainly to launder money.

Sunset in Puerto Ballandra

After sailing through some of the early morning, we anchored in a tranquil little bay, Ensenada Blanca, and ended up spending two nights there to rest up. The first night we were buffetted by more strong winds, but the next night was quiet as. When we got going again on Wednesday, we headed for one of Jay's favourite little anchorages, Puerto Ballandra, with its pristine white sandy beaches. We anchored for the night, and spent the next day cleaning the propellor and the hull of the boat of all the barnacles and muck that had developed over 4 months in the La Paz harbour.

I was rewarded that night with one of the most beautiful things I have seen in a long time. After dark, I heard a splash and went outside to look with my headlamp. I didn't need any light though, as all around the boat, I saw these faint flashes of green light in the water. As my eyes became accustomed to it, it looked like flashes of lightning within a cloud, but dim and faint and ghostly and green. It was fish swimming around the boat, playing with each other, and causing activation of the beautiful phosphorescence in the water I had seen a couple of nights ago. Some left sharp tracks of green, like shooting stars, others echoed ghostly fish shapes, and some were just a blur. It so beautiful. I can't remember how long I was mesmerised by this underwater firework display.

Sunrise over Isla Carmen

Back in Loreto... what the hell?? I was there on my bike a month or two ago.

The next day we motored over to Loreto to get supplies, and enjoyed going at 5-6kts rather than the 2-3kts we had been getting, thanks to our work in cleaning the boat. We headed up to a nearby anchorage, San Juanica, for the night. The next morning, Saturday, we heard a good weather forecast for the crossing. We had been sticking to the Baja coast, and waiting to get a good weather window to cross over to the other side. Today was the day. It was time to cross the Sea of Cortez.

We set off, and had a good wind to start with. It was 10-15kts and we went along at a good 5-7kts purely under sail. It was a postcard for sailing. At one point some dolphins even swam towards the boat, and when we made some noise by yelling at slapping the side of the boat, they reacted joyfully by leaping high into the air one at a time. It so cool to see them react to us like that!

Some rock formations at San Juanico

Like a boss.

Night fell, and as I watched the crescent moon sink towards the horizon, not long after the sun, I felt much better prepared for this all-night crossing. We took turns at the helm again, and I managed to take a much larger share of the watches than before. There was even a moment, when, steering the boat through the dark ocean using stars near the horizon as landmarks, I actually felt like a sailor.

We arrived in San Carlos the next day, and spent a night there in the beautiful harbour before heading south to Guaymas where Jay intended to haul the boat out. We had done it! We had made the crossing, which had turned out to be much easier than we thought, with none of the crazy winds we had had the first night, and I was finally on the mainland. It was a truly incredible week spent learning to sail, visiting pristine beaches, and experiencing life on the ocean. I was super stoked, and couldn't have predicted how great this 'hitching a ride' would turn out to be!

The 'face' in the rocks at San Carlos.

Not a bad sight at the end of a long journey.