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Feb. 16,2003 -- Bahia Santa Maria, West Coast, Baja California
Latitude: N 24? 47'
Longitude: W 112? 14'
Passages: San Diego to Bahia Santa Maria (600 NM, 150? M, 125?M)
STORY TOOLS 
More from Other NewsWe left San Diego at 18:00, Feb. 9th, 2003, with all regular crew plus Lisa's Mom, Roberta, aboard. The forecast was for low pressure approaching, and rain moving in from the north in a couple of days. We set sail in light north winds, and motor-sailed through the night. We expected that by traveling south, we would move away from the approaching low, and sail with the regular prevailing northwest winds. That would make for a lovely and fast downwind sail all the way to Bahia Santa Maria.
We estimated that we would be there in four days.
Unfortunately, we did not anticipate the strength of the low, or the total disruption of the prevailing weather pattern that would follow. We relied on local weather news, but were unable to obtain an actual fax picture. As a result, by the second night out, we found ourselves beating to weather in heavy seas, and making little progress. We greeted the grey, dismal dawn with exhaustion and noted that the winds, instead of decreasing, were now strong Southeast and that the waves had become larger and steeper.
The 'Glide' was taking a pounding and the crew was miserable. We
could continue, slowly and painfully, and if conditions did not
deteriorate further, make the nearest port -- Turtle Bay -- in a few
days, provided that nothing went wrong. Thankfully, though ill, our
children are too young to jump ship! What really disgusted us what that
this was supposed to be a fun and fantastic downwind sail! Ninety-five
percent of the time the wind blows Northwest; sailors worry about
traveling north against the strong northwesterlies, not about sailing
south with the wind.
It seemed sure that the wind would revert to its normal direction in a
couple of days, and so we looked for refuge to wait out the weather. We
had been out for 36 hours now, and hoped not to spend another night out
in these awful seas. To the south, we found nothing ... all places
looked to be another 30 hours away. Forty miles north, back the way we
had come, was Isla San Martin, with a small cove that offered
protection from south winds. We didn't want to go back, but it seemed
the only likely place, and we could make it by nightfall. Hate to go
backwards. ...
Then Brian noted a spot on the chart just to the Southeast of our
position. There were no comments on any of our three chart references
about its being an anchorage as it was open to the Nothwest, but we
were suffering in Soutkeast winds, and it looked to be good sand
holding, in less than three fathoms. We figured that we could check it
out, and if we didn't like it, go on to plan C ... whatever plan C
might be.
Therefore, we pressed on to Punto San Antonio, and arrived three hours later. We got as close to the beach as we dared, threw both anchors out, and held on tight. We were in the lee of the land, but behind us in one direction was small Isla San Jeronimo, with its bright lighthouse, and in the other direction was notorious Sacramento Reef. We plotted our compass course escape routes in case of anchor failure or wind shift, and felt relieved to be out of the heavy swells and wind.
We continued to be grateful for two whole days. The boat rolled rail to rail in the strong swells that wrapped around the point, and there was no going ashore, but we knew these conditions were mild compared to what was out on the open water.
The first night was especially spectacular. The completely obscured full moon illuminated the clouds and the sea. The water was phosphorescent. The wind howled off the land at 35 knots, raking the Glide and bringing up waves to windward, between boat and land. The moon lit the wave tops and the phosphorescence glowed across the bay, turning the whole scene into deep blue-green neon. Then the rain came slashing down, and it, too, was lit brightly. The light of San Jeronimo disappeared in the downpour. We looked around in wonder, and hoped that the anchors would not drag. It reminded us of those big, bright neon paintings you see that you know couldn't possibly have any relation to reality.
We waited another day and night, as the wind and seas abated, and on the morning of the Feb. 13th, we resumed our voyage south. It was still cloudy and rainy, but conditions were improving and it was time to go. As we passed Sacramento Reef, we caught a nice 10-lb bluefin tuna -- the first fish of our journey, which we considered a good omen indeed.
We motor-sailed until the afternoon, when the breeze came up from the Northwest. From that point on, we had a fantastic sail and roared on to Bahia Santa Maria at a steady rate of seven to eight knots.
In the Dewey Channel, near Cedros Island, just north of Turtle Bay,
we saw many whales, all going north. One of them, a Gray whale, tried
to breach right under the bow, thought better of it, and dove, leaving
us in a great boil of water. It was actually scary, as it happened so
quickly, and it sure looked like the tail was going to hit us. Other
whales, perhaps Humpbacks, jumped clear of the water, and a pod of
Grays escorted us south for 30 minutes before vanishing. Dolphins swam
along with us, and we had boobies trying to land on the spinnaker pole
at sunset, in for a good night's rest, no doubt.
At 03:00 on Feb. 16, by moonlight, we sailed into lovely Bahia Santa
Maria and dropped our anchor. We could hear the waves crashing, and see
the long, white beach. There were a few fishing vessels anchored in the
bay, and we were happy to be there with them, in such a quiet and
peaceful place. Mostly, we were looking forward to a good night's
sleep!
Q: What do you DO with 10 pounds of fresh fish, if you can't
freeze it or can it (sadly, our pressure cooker is
missing)?
A: Well, you must eat all of it, if at all possible, since you killed it, even if that means eating it at every meal. It took us three days to eat that fish, and it was still delicious on the third day.
Here's what we had:
- Fried fish fingers
- Fried fish parmesan
- Sushi
- Sashimi
- Tuna rolls
- Brochettes with vegetables
- Herbed fish in olive oil
- Fish chowder.
This passage surely deserves some awards! They go to:
Lisa's Mom, Roberta, for keeping a positive outlook
Lisa: "I'm really sorry, Mom, that this hasn't been much of a cruise so far."
Roberta: "Oh no, dear. Don't worry about me. I'm having a wonderful time. You almost never get to see a sky full of clouds like this. Usually something is in the way -- your roof, or perhaps the wall of your house, for example. This full 360 degree view is fabulous!"
Gina, for perseverance
Max, for being pragmatic:
Brian, for calm repetition:
Looking at the lighthouse to leeward, "Well, we'll just do whatever we have to do."
Peering in the direction, to leeward, of invisible Sacramento Reef, "Well, we'll just do whatever we have to do."
Lisa, for Plan B: In increasingly heavy weather
Northwest of Punto San Antonio
Until later,
The Glide Crew
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