Sailing Baja California
October 26th – journal excerpt
“I am on my 2nd watch overnight.
It’s so beautiful out here! Jamie and the kids woke me at 2000h to watch the
most amazing display of dolphins at the bow in phosphorescence. They’d come
beside the cockpit, their wake making a glowing shadow that rendered them
visible under the sea. Listening to the screams and squeals of the kids cannot
possibly have filled my heart more. I can’t even put into words the joy that
the kids’ joy gives me.
Nightshift is an interesting thing on a
boat. When the weather is a bit crazy, you think of nothing more than the
sails, the wind, the waves, and (if running) the engine and its sounds. But
when it’s calm, you think of everything else. Sometimes in meditation,
sometimes in thought of the future, and often about the past.
.
.
.
I am thankful for the present. This moment.
The ability to sail, to be Jamie’s wife, to parent, to be healthy, for the
prospects of a future. I am thankful.
I cannot believe how beautifully calm it is
out here tonight. Barely a wave, just wind on the nose as a southerly has
appeared.
How on earth did we actually get here!? An
absolute miracle. ”
Isla San Martin
0600h October 27, shift change. Writing in
the log book about the clear, beautiful night with all its stars and glory, the
tiny sliver of moon just barely visible, I look up to see nothing but a VERY
thick wall of fog. Where did that come from?? Haha…Jamie’s turn to take over! I
got the good watch!
Jamie neglected to mention to me during the
night that we’d been taking on water. Our “dripless” seal on our prop shaft has
been gently misting our bilge since Ensenada….
Isla San Martin, a small volcanic island,
welcomed us warmly in the late morning. Fishing boats looking to trade lobsters
for cervesa, shell laden beaches, and locals stomping harvested sargasa, we
felt our freedom. The water is still cool, but oh so clear!
Once we dragged our tired bodies to the
beach, Jamie and the kids chose to go swimming, but I’d changed my mind and
stayed dry, picking shells and enjoying watching the family have more energy
than I felt after the trip. Lochlan was deep in his sand and shell world,
oblivious to all else in this world.
We met a man named Ramone, a local sargasa
farmer, who generously took time out of his day to show us the way to the apex
of the volcano. On our way up, about 20 feet from the beginning of the hike,
Bronwyn lost her footing into a bunch of treacherous little cactus balls that
got stuck in her foot. Her foot somehow hit her opposite knee to transpose
cactus balls onto that knee which in turn knocked into her other knee,
transposing more devilish cactus balls into that knee. There was a grandiose
commotion in which Sue (sv Spruce) and I both ended up with cactus imbedded
into our hands while trying to assist Bronwyn in her agony. In the end, it was only
Jamie, Ada, and Andy (sv Spruce) who ended up making the trek up the volcano
with Ramone. Apparently the whole experience at higher altitudes was
spectacular.
Meanwhile, back down at the beach, Sue had a
local man yank out her cactus from her hand whilst she was requesting scissors.
I haven’t laughed so hard in a VERY long time!
Poor Bronwyn was just riddled with cactus spikes that had hooked
themselves in so deeply that it required great care and coaxing for Bronwyn to
allow me to remove the spikes. All but a few removed, she nursed her bruised
legs in the seawater. Via satellite phone later that night, my mom researched
ways to coax those last remaining cactus spikes from their resting place. White
glue, baking soda paste, and duct tape were all candidates, but alas, the
spikes remain to this day. I’ll have to keep my eye on those little nasties.
Ramone and the gang returned from their hike
with sun-warmed cactus fruit that we all shared as a group. They are a strange
mix of taste and texture, much like a kiwi mixed with pumpkin. They weren’t
offensive in any way, but 2 was enough for me.
In the middle of the island, we found a lagoon,
where we spotted elephant seals laying in the dried up hole, waiting for the
rise of tide to fill their pool. Pelicans perched on lava rocks, sandpipers and
gulls milling about, seals peeking out of the shallow waters, we breathed in
the beauty. It’s amazing that anything can grow on an island that was once
either devasted or created by a volcanic eruption with molten lava burning
everything in its path. There were the sweetest little flowers that looked as
though they’d been dipped in sparkles, a berry-like centre that seemed good
enough to eat. I heard at least 3 of the kids vocalize their own curiosity re:
the taste of this pretty little flower!
Andy and I returned to the shore later that
afternoon to share cervesas, limes, and canned peaches with our new friend, Ramone,
as a gesture of appreciation for his kindness. My heart warmed dearly to this
man as I watched him gather his friends and split his treats amongst them. A
friend indeed.
Wonderful visits with the much more
experienced sv Spruce and sv Charelle, Jamie was able to problem solve with the
captains and later repair the seal to the prop shaft. Turns out the boot clamps
had loosened, one rusted through and the other not in a good position. And
breathe. We then said goodbye to our friends as they were headed south while we
were too curious to pass up San Quintin.
San Quintin
We absolutely needed this stop! On our own to focus on the
kids. Laundry out to dry, we headed for the deserted beaches. Swimming in the
perfect waves, beachcombing, meaningful conversations, and sun warmed bodies,
we felt relaxed. Fully relaxed. Back on Arena, we chose to “do Halloween” a day
early (as we’d be sailing on the 31st) by surprising the kids with a
stashed bag of Mexican candy and a movie “The Kid Who Would be King”. It was
just as good as any trick-or-treating night, minus the wonderful company of our
trick-or-treating partners. We missed you, Wagners!
Up at the crack of dawn to find new adventures.
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