Heading North, We Stop In Asuncion

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Hey Guys,

Although, I wonder if the plural form of "guy" is appropriate here. Perhaps the only person reading this blog is myself? I hope not, because the self discipline required to sit down and write out each adventure is something that definitely doesn't come easy to me, and the talent to make that interesting is still a skill I strive to master. Especially when there isn't much to tell that is out of the ordinary, or the trip has gone smoothly. Oh, sure, I can invent all sorts of complicated lies about pirate attacks, or found treasure, or UFO sightings, but these days folks want pictures to prove it, and I'm just not up to speed on PhotoShop yet. I intend to take a class, and soon I'll be learning how to create photographic evidence as good as anything you see in the National Inquirer. I figure by this time next year I'll be sailing around the Horn of Africa with Elvis, rediscovering the lost city of Atlantis, and uncovering the secret government base where they train dolphins to attack Russian subs. In the meantime I'll just have to make do with describing what has been going on, and add in as many lies as I can get away with.

My two new crewmates, Mike and John, arrived, and brought with them several hundred pounds of goodies that AnnMarie shipped down, including a second shaft seal and the missing set screws from the first one. She also shipped down four huge containers of her famous "wheat free" chocolate chip cookies. Sadly, she mentioned this to Mike when she dropped the bags off with him, so only three arrived, and they were all pretty light at that. I told her not to let on that there were treats aboard (hoping to stash these away for myself) but now that the rest of the crew know about it, nothing is safe. Unless I stand next to the counter all day long, they seem to disappear much faster than I consume them. Drat! At the time of this writing, we are halfway up the coast of Baja, and there are three cookies left. It could very well be the plot for the next Kane Mutiny, with the crew setting me adrift in the dinghy clutching a tin of tall house cookies.

The new guys arrived on Thursday, and we spent most of it having dinner, shopping for boat parts, and all of Friday getting the boat finished. The new prop seal is installed and has worked well. We added redundant bilge pumps, fixed broken float switches, resewed the Bimini, and got pretty much everything else we needed to set sail, except for gas and ice, which we would get at the Cabo fuel dock. The two items we couldn't find was anyone that could refill our oxygen bottle, or sell us a scuba tank. I had brought down all my Paramedic Equipment including an O2 rig, but we have never been able to find anyone that could refill the bottle-- apparently getting oxygen is not possible in Mexico, which is surprising because there are any number of hospitals, clinics and emergency services located all over the area. Well, we wouldn't have O2, but we thought we'd at least be able to find a scuba tank. This trip Mike brought down a "Spare Air" which is a mini scuba tank with a regulator built right on top, that you can fill directly from a regular scuba tank. They give you about 14 breaths under water and are wonderful to have aboard if you need to dive the anchor, or clear the prop of kelp or tangled lines, or have to stay in the same cabin with the captain if he has had wheat. We looked all over town but couldn't find a scuba tank for sale either.

Friday night we went to an "open house" event on Slowdance, and had a great time talking to many of the movers and shakers of San Jose. David's mother (who owns the boat) and her best friend Maria (who was the star on the television show "Three's Company") were both there to help out as well. They did a great job, and over the course of the evening there must have been ninety people on board, including prospective clients and brokers. They even had a mariachi band. It was quite swank, and will probably drum up a lot of future business for them. We wish them great success and have no doubt that they will soon be taking folks out nightly.

At one point I started chatting with a charming woman named Caroline who runs the local American newspaper called the Gringo Gazette. She turned out to be the wife of another neighbor on the dock, Ernie, who sells fractional rentals in the area, rebuilds huge boats for fun and profit, and is involved in various real estate ventures. Ernie is one of those folks who you just immediately like. He is friendly, outgoing, witty and fun. We had started kidding around as soon as we met, and he was always offering tools and help whenever he came by the boat. We mentioned to them that we were getting ready to leave that night and I asked if he knew where we could buy a scuba tank. "Oh, here, I've got one you can have" he casually said. To a cruiser getting ready to head up the coast this is like saying "Oh, sure, I've got an extra tent, backpack and four wheel drive truck you could borrow" to someone going hiking in the desert. We were floored. I rode back to their apartment to pick it up, and was amazed by their place. They live in a beautiful home overlooking San Jose, and it is filled with oil paintings, mostly done by Caroline. She had studied music in college, was a guitar teacher for many years, but has now taken up painting (while running a newspaper), and is doing wonderful work. I must say I was very impressed with both of them. They are people who have achieved great things in their lives. Better still, they were gracious, warm and friendly to complete strangers. We hope to see them up north sometime soon and repay the kindness.

So, with scuba tank in hand, we set sail for Cabo. Well, almost. We discovered that the fix for the Bimini wasn't going to work. The velcro was completely dissolving from constant exposure to the sun, so we spent another two hours hand sewing it into place. Once done we motored down to Cabo in light winds from the north, arriving at dawn and pulled up to the fuel dock. It was still early and the regular circus of tourist clowns hadn't hit the water yet, so the bay was calm. We topped up the tanks, filled the freezer with ice and headed out for the long trek north. We were a bit apprehensive because rounding Cabo Falso can be one of the hardest things you can do in this area. The last time I was here (fifteen years ago) six boat tried it the week before us, and only four made it. One was blown back and the other went up on the rocks, killing one of its crew members and seriously injuring another.

The weather seemed very calm, so we headed up. Much to our surprise and delight, it was dead flat. We went around the rocks at eight knots, and headed up the coast with no headwind or chop. It was a fantastic start to our journey, and continued that way for many more miles. We made incredible time going north, and got to Mag Bay much sooner than we had intended. Having had only small swells and mild chop, we decided to push on for Turtle Bay. The weather reports were all looking good, and it seemed like we were going to dodge the dreaded "Baja Bash". As soon as we started getting confident, Mother Nature decided to remind us that she doesn't approve of gloating by slamming us with twenty knot winds, six foot seas and chop coming from three directions at once.

We pounded along for most of the night and a large part of the day. Eventually it calmed down, but we were low on fuel, so stopped in the middle of the ocean and filled our tanks from the jerry jugs we'd brought along, then started on again. The weather kicked up about fifty miles north of Mag Bay, and we were bashing along, being thumped by waves each time we past one. We reduced speed, but it still took a lot to push forward. We were being beaten on and burning fuel faster than we wanted. It also got cold, so standing shifts was no longer fun. In fact, it sucked. No glorious sunsets, no dolphins off the bowsprit, no whales breaching close by could make up for the fact that it was cold and wet and bumpy. We tried sailing against it but we couldn't find a favorable wind that helped. It stayed that way most of yesterday. By today we were still many miles below Turtle Bay, the wind (and thankfully the waves) had died down and we didn't have enough fuel to motor directly there. That meant turning east, losing both ground and time by heading for one of the harbors along the way. We were contemplating our options when the wind backed around a bit and picked up, giving us enough push to point towards Asuncion Bay, just south of Turtle Bay, where we wanted to go to refuel.

We motor sailed the rest of the way there, pulled into the harbor at night, and hailed Shari Bondy, one of the local ex-pats who is cruiser friendly. She gave us directions and GPS coordinates for a good anchorage and we dropped the hook just off shore in thirty feet of water on a sandy bottom a hundred yards from shore. Even before we'd put the anchor down we were greeted by a dozen seals, all splashing around our bow and happy to see us. We were pretty happy to see them too, and Mike commented that it was worth the whole trip just for this one minute. Personally, I think he could have saved a lot of travel by just going to SeaWorld, but he thought this was somehow better. Go figure. We made steaks on the barbecue, had a great meal, relaxed and got to sleep comfortably for an entire eight hours. What luxury!

The next morning we contacted Shari, who picked us up at the shore, drove us to the local gas dealer, filled our jugs, took us shopping, showed us around town, then brought us back to her place for breakfast and offered us showers to boot!! We were once again humbled by the good will of folks we've met. It is amazing and astounding the hospitality we've been offered in Mexico. It is truly a friendly country. We later met her husband Juan (who had been out fishing) and is also a talented musician and radio technician. They are great advocates for this area, and know most everyone. Between the two of them you can get help with just about anything you need. They also have a website if you want to learn more about the area. If you are ever in the area, give them a shout on channel 16 (Sirena, pronounced "sea rain ah") and tell them Robb Triton sent you.

Asuncion is a sleepy little fishing village along a bight of land facing the Pacific. It will one day be a glamorous vacation resort where folks spend thousands for a week's worth of relaxation. Right now it is mostly dirt roads and cement block houses, but the folks are warm and friendly, helpful to a fault and the kind of people you'd love to have for a neighbor. It's a bit off the beaten path, but the views are spectacular and the weather can't be beat. I'm smitten with this place.

Well, we'll be heading up to Turtle Bay soon, once we've fixed all the little things that broke on the trip, pour the diesel into the tanks, and clean up a bit. In the meantime I wish you all safe harbors, warm water and even warmer friends.

Cheers,

Robb


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What a difference a harbor makes.

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Ahoy, Ahoy,

Well, I've moved the boat a few miles further north to a small town on the western shore of Baja called San Jose. It is about twenty minutes further north (by car) from Cabo San Lucas, and I'm staying at a a brand new marina called "Marina Los Cabos". In fact, it is still under construction and won't be finished for another two or three years, so there are only limited facilities here. They haven't finished installing the water or electric lines, but at one quarter the price of Cabo San Lucas (and ten times the pleasantry), it is still worth the money.

The harbor manager is Jim Elfers, author of "The Baja Bash", a book about sailing north up the coast of the Americas. It is extremely detailed, and provides excellent insight into what it takes to get "to the barn" as they call San Diego when going north. He has copies for sale in the marina office, where he will gladly autograph one for you, or you can get them on line at amazon.com. As an added treat, you will get to meet Claudia, his secretary, who is stunningly beautiful, charming, warm and very helpful, and the rest of his very nice, helpful staff. Would that all marina managers, harbor officials and government employees as nice, I'd have nothing to write about.

The harbor itself is just about as different from Cabo San Lucas as heaven from hell. There are no ugly American tourists, no jet skis, no ski boats pulling yahoos, no whores, no drunks, no throbbing music until 2AM. In fact, it is a peaceful, quiet, well protected harbor with a very pretty view. They dug the harbor out of the ground, effectively "made it from scratch" and although I think they should have made it even bigger, it's clear that it will be a very nice spot to stop when south of La Paz.

About the only down side (besides it not being complete) is the town's decision to install an "art" monument on the adjacent hill. Something that would put them on the map, so to speak. When San Francisco tried this we ended up with that "arrow through the heart" eyesore thing. Unfortunately, the guy that does all of Mexico's other bizarre bronze statues was back on his meds and therefore unable to come up with anything surreal enough to qualify, so the job went to the lowest bidder instead. The result is a cross shaped blackened metal super structure, made entirely of bronze (of course) that looks like something off the set of a Mad Max movie. The locals call it "the dagger in the soul". I call it "Soulless Frippery Masquerading As Art". Or, "Look Mom, I Learned To Weld!"

It is situated atop a highpoint of the town, visible for miles in every direction, especially from the marina, over which it looms. Looms in the sense of Lurch, the butler from the Adams Family. It is finished in a mat black, has strange appendages jutting out, and give new hope for Atheists everywhere. It really is quite appalling. In sunlight, it appears burnt out. At night, they light it with floodlights. That makes it even worse. Then it looks like a guard tower after the Dresden fire bombing. The cruisers joke that eventually it will have a neon "Modello" sign on it. I think that would actually be an improvement.

Other than that one particular drawback, I think this marina is quickly going to become the choice spot for fishermen and cruisers alike when heading south in Baja. It is really well laid out, will accommodate just about any sized boat, and is extremely well protected. I'd choose this place over any other Baja marina in a bad storm. It is easy to navigate into, lacks any really dangerous rocks or hidden gotchas, and once completed will be a wonderful alternative to the town of (last) resort I call "Cabo Sans Lucidity".

When I arrived at Marina Los Cabos they explained that all the currently built docks were full (they were busy installing water and electric to one of the few unoccupied docks) and that there wasn't an empty slip large enough for my catamaran. They directed me to the 100yard long fuel dock instead. I was told to park just behind "Attessa", a mega-yacht of unbelievable proportions. It was seven stories high, had a draft of over twenty five feet, the compulsory helicopter parked on the top, and a hot tub large enough for ten. It dwarfed over my boat. In fact, their tender (from the latin "ten-er" or "big bill", a word meaning enormous dinghy for expensive yacht) which was almost as large as my boat, could hold about twenty people comfortably. That is my boat there in the picture above, just behind Attessa. It dwarfs my boat. Their radar domes are as high as my mast. I used to think I had a big boat, but all guys do. Other cruisers would hassle me about buying such a large yacht all the time. Now I know I didn't. Talk about being a small fish in a big pond.

After I tied up I went up to the first mate and said "Okay, who do I complain to?" He smiled and said "What seems to be the matter?" I explained that since I'm usually getting shit for having the largest boat around, I wanted to give them some. He laughed and said they got that a lot.

While I was there, the owners and a few select guests arrived, and the ship (it ain't a boat if it has a tender) left harbor for La Paz. I would have been curious to look around inside, but my understanding is that tours of mega-yachts are harder to get than face time with the president. It is still one impressive boat, especially when seen up close. I'm not sure it's how I would have spent my money, but I admire the quality of the work and attention to detail. There was always three or four crew continuously working on the boat. I must have met at least a dozen of its staff, and I believe there were more. It probably costs more per year to just operate it than I will spend in my entire lifetime on sailing. Oh well, it ain't my money, but it ain't my problem either. I'd hate to have to fix that boat continually.

That night I walked across the street and had dinner at Tommy's Barefoot Cafe. While I was waiting for my food, I started chatting with the owner, who goes by the name T.J. He was a character with quite a colorful past, and had just opened the restaurant that week. His son was the cook, and T.J. managed the establishment. It was a great atmosphere and although they were just getting started, you could tell that this was going to be a fun place to hang out. While I was ordering, another cruiser walked in. His name was Skip, and he had dropped the hook right next to me when we were anchored off the beach in Cabo. He is also a machinist and welder and has done quite a lot of work for Atessa, and several other large ships in the area. We got to talking, had dinner together, and were eventually joined by T.J. as well. We swapped sea stories and tales of misadventure, wasted another perfectly good night, and had a great time doing it.

The next day I found an open spot further in the marina. It offered better protection, great neighbors (which means better security) and internet connectivity so I moved over there. Unfortunately, I've just discovered a slow leak in the port propeller shaft seal, so we are trying to figure out if we can get a part flown down here in any kind of reasonable time frame. It is a mechanical type seal, and is only dripping slightly, so it doesn't mean I couldn't leave without fixing it, but I'd rather get it fixed if I can. AnnMarie is running around town looking for the right part even as I write this. Naturally it is located in the bilge, and requires disconnecting the propeller shaft in order to fix it. The other side isn't leaking noticibly, but I've no doubt I'll be fixing that. Some fun, huh?

Last night I met my neighbors David, Edgar, and Ana on Slow Dance, a beautiful 80 foot charter boat for day sails and overnights. It was built in New Zealand, and is stunningly engineered. I think it could sail through a hurricane without noticing. The interior is gorgeous, spacious and their galley is larger than most apartments. They are just getting started in this marina, so if you happen to be in town and want to take a a ride on a fabulous boat with wonderful crew, check them out. They have been fantastically great neighbors, offering rides, help with mechanical issues and even taken me out to see a movie. The friendliness and generosity of the cruisers I've met never ceases to amaze me.

In the meantime I'm adding additional bilge pumps, a high water alarm, some other indicator lights, sealing hatches, etc. There are a lot of little items that need to be done before I'd feel comfortable setting out, but it should only be a few days time for me to get everything, as they say, ship shape. I've rented a car so I can run into town for parts when I need to, and got my cell phone working so I can call folks when I have to without spending precious satellite phone minutes. Even though there is so much work to do, and such a daunting task ahead, I find myself in much better spirits. I hadn't realized how much stress being around two other folks who were continually inebriated was creating for me. With the horrors of Cabo's "no holds barred tourist town idiocy" behind me, the previous crew's party/pass out/pout cycle broken, and the nagging doubts about their ability to stay sane and sober for the trip north removed, I feel much happier and the change has done wonders for my mood. I've even smiled a bit, though it would cheer me up no end if a few cruise ships full of fat, obnoxious, jet ski renting, pasty white Americans sank.

So, on that rather dour note, I will leave you all to whatever reading you should have been up to instead of wasting another perfectly good ten minutes scanning my blog. Surely you have better things to do with you time? I know I'm supposed to be fixing something or other. Well, it's back to the sea salt mines for me, and perhaps for you charter accountancy, or Java programming, or filing forms or whatever it is you do instead of boat repair.

Cheers,

Robb

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