Heads or Tails?

After our 36-hour sail to Topolobampo, we decide to just relax a while at anchor at Santa Maria Hook (one of our favorite locations), just outside the shipping channel. It is also one of Lily’s favorite locations because of the large expanse of beach, sand dunes, and shallow water. There is rarely anyone there besides a few fishing pangas. It is like our own private paradise.

As it is winter here too, and we are not yet far enough south for the warm water and even warmer air, it is still a bit chilly. Most days ashore we need more than just our swimming apparel. But on the days of full sun without wind it is just perfect (even if the water is still a bit on the cold side).

One day as we approached the shore, we noticed a couple of dogs running down the beach. It was far away, so it was difficult to say whether it was coyotes or a wild street-dogs. As we cautiously came closer we realized they were too big for coyotes. It seemed a bit far from any town for wild dogs, and they didn’t have the typical look of the most common street breeds. We wondered if they could be wolves. For Lily’s safety we held off until they ran out of sight, but we took some pictures so we could zoom in on them for a closer look. When we got back to the boat we checked our pictures and looked up the Mexican Grey Wolf online. One website said that they no longer had the Grey Wolf in Mexico, and that even the ones they reintroduced had disappeared. Sure looks like the pictures they show of them to us (though much thinner and less healthy). What do you think?

We enjoy the Great Herons here as well. They always fly off complaining loudly of the disturbance to their silent hunt well before I can get very close, but their foot prints on the beach are as long as mine. They must be incredibly large.

It is so early in the season that we didn’t see the bazillions of crabs everywhere like when we were here last May. Nonetheless, Lily was able to find (harass), some in the surf when we walked over the spit of sand to the beach open to the sea. (Note: Remembering getting pinched on the lip last season, she was much more cautious this time.)

Now let’s talk about jellyfish again. Last season I mentioned how we saw so many jellyfish both in number and variety than ever before. At the time we chalked it up to it being later in the season than we usually sail, which means warmer water that we figured jellies must prefer. So far this season, we are again seeing jellyfish in every location we have anchored so far (though not in the numbers as late last season), and the air and water temperatures are still relatively cool. So my mind began to think of climate change and the overall warming of ocean temperatures. Then I went to Google—what did we ever do before Google put the world of research and knowledge at our fingertips? Here’s what I found out: I was right! Normally I would rejoice in my speculations being correct, however, I’m not a big fan of jellyfish. What I am a big fan of is swimming carefree in the ocean. Don’t get me wrong. I love learning about jellyfish and looking at the countless varieties of jellyfish, but on my terms, like in aquarium exhibits, or in rare blooms in the wild that would only last a short period of time.

But, as I am not queen of the world, that is not how it works. From my research, people are seeing more jellyfish all around the world, not just here in the Sea of Cortez and Pacific Ocean. Now, bear with me here. I know that not all of you may believe in the causes or inevitable results of climate change, nevertheless, I think we can agree on the science of thermometers and that measurements of the Earth’s oceans are showing increased temperatures. What does this mean for jellyfish? It’s fantastic news for jellyfish! They prefer warmer waters where their food sources, like plankton, become increasingly available. Many jellyfish species can tolerate the lower oxygen levels that can occur in warmer waters giving them a distinct advantage including the intolerance of low oxygen levels of some of their predators. Maybe jellyfish are destined to take over the planet—at least the wet parts. Bummer…

While on the boat anchored in a place you enjoy, time seems to stand still. I have no recollection exactly how long we were anchored here, only that I felt the pressing (but not too pressing), need to get into town to find some fresh produce. We were watching the wind and tides so that we could get through the shipping channel without fighting either one. Going against the strong tide in the channel can make the 2-hour journey much longer. Add in some strong winds, and that journey gets a lot wetter. Also, the winds can make pulling into a dock at the marina more challenging. The problem was that the tides were right in the afternoon when the winds were picking up—so we stayed at anchor just enjoying life. Eventually, my body was telling me it wanted something fresh to eat. So we compromised, weighing our bodies need of fresh produce with our bodies desire to sleep as long into the morning as it wanted. We got up just before sunrise while all was calm to ride the last of the tide into Topolobampo. We were fortunate to enjoy some light from the setting full moon as we hauled up the anchor.

While in route, the Baja Ferry ship came up behind us. We stayed tucked up right at the edge of the channel to give ample room for her to pass. You see our boat, whether sailing or motoring, makes 5 to 6 knots on average. Any ship coming through the channel will go at least twice that, so we knew she would pass us. It was a bit discomforting to see her stay right in the center for so long as she approached.

We hoped it wasn’t just set to autopilot , but that someone was watching and would adjust course. The ferry is relatively small compared to some ships that have passed us here. By the time she caught us she was well to the other side. But we had a feeling someone wasn’t happy about sharing the space with us because right after she passed the port captain called us out on the vhf radio. He chastised us for not asking permission to enter the shipping channel (never had before, never knew we had too). We apologized and let him know that we would be sure to notify him prior to entering the channel on the way out.

More exciting than all of that was dolphins! I mentioned how much faster ships are than us. Well, dolphins love to surf a good bow wake, and ships make a great bow wake. We had so much fun watching them play. When we encounter dolphins at sea, they will swim alongside for a while but lose interest in the tiny bow wake of our slow vessel. Sometimes they stay a bit longer if they get interested in whatever Lily is yelling at them in her loudest most high-pitched voice. Several of these dolphins must have heard her because they did swim over for a moment to check us out. I didn’t see them coming and they arced out of the water not 3-feet in front of me. I screamed in excitement. Jim had a moment of panic because he didn’t see the dolphin, only heard the splash and thought Lily went overboard!

We enjoyed a lovely sunrise along the way.

Once securely docked, we enjoyed our first real shower in quite a while. It was a suicide shower, but it felt wonderful nonetheless. For those of you who have never experienced a suicide shower, they are quite common in many places in Mexico. In some warmer climates the only hot water comes from the black plastic water tank on top of the house. Many places don’t have hot water heaters, nor are they plumbed for hot water. This system works most of the time as long as one doesn’t want a “hot” shower, but there are times when even one who is accustomed to a tepid shower desires a little more warmth to bathe. So, I suppose that some winter long ago while awash in water not quite warm enough, some genius came up with a cheap way to get a hot shower. You wire up the 110 to the shower head for hot water on demand—never-you-mind the exposed wires in proximity to water and human flesh. This may sound a bit judgmental, but don’t get me wrong. A suicide shower is better than a cold shower any day in my book. Just always remember (and take my word that I’m speaking from experience here), don’t touch or adjust the showerhead once you have entered the shower and gotten wet. Really, don’t, trust me.

While in Topolobampo we filled up our diesel jugs, refilled our water tanks, and reprovisioned with fresh produce. One of our meandering walks around town presented me with this interesting scene. Sylvester here just came walking down the street in front of us looking for a place to enjoy his lunch. Hopefully it will give you a smile as well.

We waited a few extra days at the docks before sailing to Mazatlan because of the weather forecasts. In the days (or weeks), leading up to a major sail, we study the forecasts of all the weather models paying close attention to predicted sea state. We can safely sail in a range of wind speeds and directions or motor with a lack thereof, but the height of waves and their timing can make for a very uncomfortable passage. All this time and attention to forecasts may subconsciously be a way of delaying a long passage because if we judge by experience, flipping a coin as to whether conditions will be good or bad may be equally if not more accurate! Anyway, we delayed a few days because seas were forecast at 4 to 6 feet at 2.5 to 5 seconds apart depending on which model you looked at. We didn’t like that at all. We don’t mind flatter seas at closer intervals or bigger seas at longer intervals, but 4 to 6 foot seas that close together in the Sea of Cortez is like being in a washing machine on the agitation cycle. So, we waited a few days when the waves were forecasted to be more like 10 to 12 seconds apart, at which point their height doesn’t matter so much. The winds were going to be higher at 15 to 20 knots, but we can always reduce sail and reef the main if things got crazy.

You should probably know that sailors have notoriously been and continue to be a superstitious lot. Everything from whistling beckoning storms to eggshells that aren’t smashed into small pieces being used by witches as boats to conjure storms to sink ships. We try to be reasonable and rational people, and most superstitions are neither. So, we don’t really believe in them, but there’s no reason to part with tradition or take unnecessary risks. Okay, so maybe we are superstitious? Anyway, once the sea state turned more favorable, we planned to leave. Then we realized our departure was on a Friday. Starting a voyage on a Friday has long been considered unlucky to sailors. The dilemma was that since we were leaving from the marina, to delay another day would mean another day’s dock fees. Superstition, smooperstition! When it hits the pocketbook it seemed like a risk worth taking. We left on a Friday. Maye we aren’t superstitious?

We made it out of the inner-channel shallow waters to the shipping channel without touching bottom—that make two successful seasons in a row now (I hope I didn’t just jinx our return trip back North!). Once we hit the shipping channel we made sure to radio the Port Captain to ask his permission. Permission was granted. He simply asked that we let him know once we exited to shipping channel into open water.

It seemed like it was going to be a great passage. At times the waters in the shipping channel can get very rough making for a few uncomfortable hours at best. This time it was smoother than we had ever seen, and the breeze was at a great angle for sailing. So far, so good!

Lily wasn’t the only sea-dog out there on this morning.

We did have several great hours of sailing…then the predicted winds died down to nearly nothing…then the seas got sloppy. At several points in the passage the sea state was as much as 5 or 6 feet at 4 to 5 second intervals—bleh! So much for all our studying and planning. But, on the bright side, we had a strong current of following seas pushing us along and were able to make great time. It took us only 38 hours, averaging 5.6 knots for the 220 miles to Mazatlan. We arrived safely and set anchor at about 1AM. Even though we would rather arrive at anchorages in the daylight hours, we were both exhausted and thankful to not have to stay up another night for watches.

I’ll leave you this time with both beautiful sunsets at sea in passage to Mazatlan.