We Had A Plane To Catch

(December 5 – 6, 2017)  We were on a mission.  We had to get to Loreto in time to meet a plane.  The girls’ former nanny, Miss Milana, was flying in to meet us, and we were working against the clock to blaze north, racing against an incoming El Norte.  All we had to do was get through the San Jose Channel before the northerly blew in, and we (thought) we could make it.  But, although we’d made a series of short one-night stops, our schedule meant we had to continue the one-nighters and move on from Ensenada de la Raza first thing in the morning – and leave our buddy boats behind to do so!  (Later on, we discovered how extreme the tunneling effect of wind and waves really was in that channel, and that we would have been far better off to go out into the Sea, avoiding the channel completely.  But, that would have made for a very long run in high winds with no bail-out points along the way, so going through the channel was probably the right call at the time.)

We had a bumpy sail across the bay and up into the beginning of San Jose Channel, where would anchor for the night at Isla San Francisco.  It was a beautiful, round, crater-shaped bay with clear-blue water and white sand beach and bottom.  We managed to catch a small dorado as we crossed.  Which was odd, because it wasn’t dorado season; usually the Sea was too cold for them this time of year.  Regardless, the wind was picking up already as the El Norte began to blow in, and my tummy was not happy.  It was even less happy as I sat on the cockpit floor filleting our catch.  I cleaned and filleted him as quickly as I could, while Rich managed the girls and secured things downstairs.  Once I was back on watch, my tummy began to settle itself again.  

The bay at Isla San Francisco was beautiful, but we never got off the boat, and we didn’t linger.  First thing the next morning, December 6, we headed back out.  The El Norte was upon us, and we still had to travel over 100 miles directly upwind to meet our guest on the 9th.

We tried everything, but with a big wind, and even bigger waves, directly against us, the going was slow.  First, we tried simply motoring due north, wind and waves be damned.  But, at high RPM and burning fuel quickly, we were only traveling at 2 knots.  So we decided to give sailing a try.

The sailing was quite rough.  Not only was the sea state mean and ugly, but also, the wind tearing straight down the channel meant that we had to sail off our course quite a way.  What’s more, we had to reef down, which meant our large, 135% headsail lost almost all usable shape.  We were lucky to be making any northerly progress at all.

So then, we moved onto motor-sailing.  With the motor on, we were able to make good speed 20 degrees closer to our course, but we still weren’t making good northing.  Taliesin Rose radioed us, and we reported back to them on the conditions in the channel – complete crap.  So, they wisely decided to stay put.

Meanwhile, one of our new boating friends, Willful Simplicity, overheard our conversation, and the fact that after several hours of sailing in cold and wet cottage cheese, we were finally nearing their home in San Evaristo, just 10 miles north of where we’d started back on Isla San Francisco.  

We met Willful Simplicity back in La Paz.  They were organizing a holiday gift drive for some of the local children in the bay they lived in – San Evaristo.  It’s a tiny fishing village, populated by 20 or so families, the elite of which boasted four walls on their lean-to style homes, even if one or two of them were blankets.  When Willful Simplicity asked if the girls and I would purchase some Christmas gifts for some of the girls in the village, we couldn’t refuse.  My girls each chose an art kit, a Barbie, and a game for their similarly aged counterparts in San Evaristo.  We delivered them before Willful Simplicity drove back to their village, and that was the last we saw of that particular boat buddy.

So, it was a very pleasant surprise to hear Willful Simplicity hail us on the radio.

“This is Mobert, go ahead Willful Simplicity.”

“Let’s go 2-3.”

“2-3,” I responded, and switched the channel.  Then, turning off my official radio voice and turning on my friendly phone call voice, I enthusiastically greeted them: “Good afternoon, Willful Simplicity, how are you?”

“Good, good.  We have a very cozy spot here in San Evaristo, and I heard you were right outside, so I wanted to call and say hello.”

“Oh, well thanks so much!  Good to hear from you!”

“How are the conditions out there?” Willful Simplicity asked, concern starting to creep into her tone.

I swallowed my pride – I had to be honest.  “It’s pretty ugly.  We’re trying to get to Loreto, but I honestly don’t see how we can make it.”

“Yeah,” she answered diplomatically, still hiding her concern, “you still have over 100 miles to go, and this wind is supposed to blow even harder for the next few days.”

I’d already been thinking about turning around, and Willful Simplicity was confirming my suspicion that pressing north was going to prove to be fruitless, and maybe even dangerous.  But, I was stubborn, and I hated changing plans, so I was having trouble making the mental adjustment myself.  As though she knew what I was thinking, Willful Simplicity continued, “You know, San Evaristo is a great place to hunker down for a few days, and I see you out in the channel there – why don’t you just come on in here?  It’ll be much more pleasant going north after this wind blows through.”

Willful Simplicity had given me exactly what I needed – permission to give up the upwind, up-wave battle.  After quickly consulting with Rich, I thanked Willful Simplicity for her generous offer, and as we were already pointed directly at San Evaristo, we prepared to head on into the bay rather than tacking back out.  

The sea state improved dramatically as soon as we passed the point protecting San Evaristo to the north.  Although the wind was still strong, it was nice to be on calm water again, after several hours in a washing machine.  We set the anchor easily, and all four of us remarked on how exhausted we felt from being out there – just trying to stay in your seat in that weather was a workout.  Trying to beat through several more days of it would have been an exhausting disaster.  

We still had our plane problem to deal with.  But for now, we were stuck where we were, and there was no point panicking about it quite yet.  First things first: We lowered the dinghy and headed to the restaurant on shore for dinner.