We took the inner route along the beach inside the reef. There were lobster trap buoys everywhere here and panga guys buzzing around to attend them. I don’t know exactly what they are looking for but when they empty a trap, they throw back a lot of lobster (carrying eggs? undersize?); Jeff counted 19 lobsters thrown back from one boat. The fashion trend amongst the Abreojos lobster fishermen is a balaclava-type headdress made from an old t-shirt with eye and mouth holes roughly cut; a look reminiscent of the Elephant Man with a bit of Mexican wrestler. One boat that had been working near us came close, circled us once or twice then just tossed five lobsters onto our trampoline (we had to tell them to stop, since we are well aware that four is the absolute maximum three people can consume in one sitting). We were too surprised at our luck to get our act together enough to find some fresh, intact t-shirts in a reasonable amount of time. By the time we came out of the cabin with the shirts, they had motored away.

The anchorage at Abreojos was bumpy and unprotected and we were considering just heading back out after we got some supplies but ended up running into Tim and surfer crew Sean and Carlos from Bogtrotter who were inundated with shrimp and various impressive fish they had caught themselves. We ended up at their boat where we had an awesome seafood stew and yellowfin sashimi. I made a firm decision to catch a yellowfin (but I’d settle for a yellowtail, or in fact anything but another bonito) but we still haven’t caught any sort of tuna at all. So much for firm decisions. Tim is an astute man whose bilge is stocked with about 50 cases of that finest of fine wines—the infamous Two-buck Chuck—and after an evening washing this down with tequila, we abandoned any thought of taking off until late afternoon the next day.

(Ospreys nesting on the tops of the telephone poles in Abreojos.)

We arrived a few hours after sunset on a moonless night and anchored way out beyond all the other boats and beyond any reasonable rowing distance. Therefore, the first thing we did in the morning was move as close to the beach as possible. The second point of order was obtain the lobster from the lobster fishermen whose movements we’d been carefully tracking all morning through binoculars as they checked their traps in the bay. We waved at one of them as they came in, bought six lobsters from the guy and ended up with seven. Then we went to shore for the inconsequentials, like water and fuel.

(Makes you want to go that way, doesn’t it?)

Turtle Bay is a lovely little place, the first civilization since Ensenada and we were charmed by the derelict vehicles and mangy doggies. We promptly found the dustiest street in town and followed it up to the first of many little random tiendas to get supplies.

We ate lobster for dinner and it was plentiful and excellent. So great, in fact, that we had it again for breakfast the next morning. We stayed at Turtle Bay for two days doing minor chores and provisioning and major sitting around and beer drinking.

After mopping the bilges dry and puzzling over just how the water was getting in (a long story that resulted in several completely hackneyed theories, most of which we’ve ruled out by now), we then headed out for Bahia Asuncion. The winds were very light and it turned out that we would not end up at Asuncion by any reasonable hour and so we continued on towards Abreojos.

We reached the point, which was 30 miles away, in four action-filled hours. Which means we averaged 8 knots the entire way (including the monkeying around at anchor pick-up and put down). Our top speed was recorded en route by our gps: 15.8 knots. Ayyy! I think I know when we did that too. (Seasickness index is at a goddamn “Hrmmm” mostly because I spent all my time tracking the oncoming waves and had no time to organize myself to puke.)

It was a very rough and “exciting” ride to Punta Baja and notable in that, while out in the middle of it all, where the waves were all big and spray was everywhere, was a seal. Sleeping! His head out of the water and bobbing UP and DOWN Down down, then Up up, then DOWWWNNNN. Asleep. We know this because we ran over him (we couldn’t help it) and woke him up. He jumped up in the air in fright then sat there staring after us.

Our entry to Punta Baja was extra exciting in that we had to come around after reaching in strong wind with a large swell on our quarter. We had jibed first, then came flying around broadside to the swell and finally turned into the wind as we came out of the swell. Ick. We anchored next to Bogtrotter, who had been with us in San Quentin the previous evening, and whose crew were attempting to surf in the harsh wind. My wind recorder showed 25 knots consistent with gusts to 30 and the screech rose through the evening, then died during the night.

The anchorage is notoriously rolly but we were surprisingly comfortable since it was a large swell with a long period. The next morning, the wind was mild and the swell was very large and slow. We headed out late afternoon in approximately 15-20 knot winds and had a great sail.

We also caught our first “real” fish—a bonito! Katsuo! I promptly made sushi rice in the pressure cooker—a device I’m rapidly losing my apprehension over—and we ate seared sashimi with wasabi and rooster sauce.

The next day we approached Benito Islands but general crankiness and largish swells prevented an anchorage. We headed straight to Turtle Bay, passing Cedros and Navidad.

The first thing that I noticed (going South—because it was certainly NOT getting any warmer) was the change in phosphorescence. Particularly in the head water. Huge honking many-legged beasties all a-glowing green and washing down, down to the holding tank.. And I sort of felt bad but was a little too fascinated to feel too bad. Not having cable while growing up does this to a person I suppose. Your typical American might be all “Oh, well, I saw these giant squid once on the Discovery Channel that could take apart a Timex at 1000 feet and they glowed rainbow colors, not just green.” Well, I suppose they might be impressed if one of those multi-colored things turned up in their toilet.

We thought we might anchor off Isla San Martin but annoying windy weather and the cold, cold, cold encouraged us to continue on to Bahia San Quentin. Notable highlights of the trip included the intrepid spotting and expert recovery of a fantastic orange life ring apparently blown overboard (like, there was no decaying body attached, thankfully) from the vessel “Arc of the Seas” out of Nassau. The thing was covered in wicked-looking sea beasties (one of which, named “The Kelp Monster,” Joshua nearly let loose within the cockpit—think “Alien”—good grief) and best of all, had been altered by some clever bored honeymooner to read “N” ARC of the SEAS. The Narc now rests in our aft tramp pocket.

Seasickness was combated with some annoying acupressure bracelets, which work not by magic, as the packaging might have you believe, but simply by cutting off blood and nerve supply to the brain the hard way—via the wrist. Bleargh. Seasickness index = “Sigh.”

Arrival at San Quentin had us anchored directly in the panga route up the estuary and the night was rather bumpy with the wind waves blowing off the beach. The moment we dropped anchor, we had the fishing pole out in an attempt to catch some dinner (it was the day after thanksgiving, I believe, but we had not had the proper “Thanksgiving” so this was it for us). Just when we were resigned to another evening of tunafish sandwiches, some gringo fishermen charged up with their aluminum skiff decked out with about 20 different poles of varying size and chucked a RED SNAPPER onto our trampoline! HOT DAMN!!! They refused trade items (hey we carry Playboy!) and wished us a nice eve before charging off homeward. (Thank you expert fisherman!)

Despite harsh winds the following morning, we put our dinghy together and rowed the 10 thousand miles upwind to shore to walk on solid land for a bit. The beach was lovely and deserted and had lots of neat shells and dead seals in various stages of decay. We found a few seal teeth and various other random shell and plant matter that could not be lived without and, thus laden, headed back to the boat for an afternoon departure. The wind had picked up impressively and was blowing 20+ knots. We thought we’d head towards Cedros but after about ten swift minutes, decided we’d head for the next sheltered area to anchor: Punta Baja.

Teak handrails! Very very handy (har har); we installed single loop rails forward and two sets of double loops aft. We didn’t have much to hold onto once you left the cockpit heading aft and always ended up grabbing at winches and blocks or random lines.

Curtains for the companionways! We sewed these together the day before moving out of the apartment and then added the snaps en route from Coyote Point to the Bay Bridge. We’re glad we did because the wave action got rollier once we were around the Bay Bridge and after we left the Golden Gate, it began to rain and the waves splashed us with much abandon.

Not a lot to say about them except they are just awesome and make it easy to get in and out of the cabins while keeping rain water and spray out.