No internet signal. Isolation? It doesn't really feel like it here in Ensenada del Candelero. Whether or not we're technologically isolated, we're just not that geographically distant from civilization. We motored out the La Paz channel around 9am and it took us only a few hours to get here. We is me and my crew, Mitch. Hmm. I don't even know his last name. There you go, adventures include sailing off into the blue with people you've only just met.

When I sailed out of Cabo I was alone (too bad, so sad), but then Kevin loaned me his son off Andante so I had crew out of Freiles to Muertos, around to Los Lobos, and on into La Paz. In La Paz Zach went back to Andante and I had an occasional prowl for crew to get to main land Mexico, either Mazatlan or Puerto Vallarta. Mazatlan is a two day crossing and I don't want me to do that alone. Neither does my insurance company.

The hunt started with chiming in on the rides and crew part of the La Paz morning cruiser's net on VHF radio channel 22A. I would wait for brief dead air, announce my boat name, "Mabrouka" and, once recognized, could then chime in with "Yeah, I'm planning to depart on Friday, headed for Ensenada de los Muertos, then across to Mazatlan and I'd like one or two crew. I've put a flyer up on the Club Cruceros bulletin board and I'll be at the 9:30 coffee hour this morning." On the other side of the coin, potential crew would come on the radio and say who they were, how many they were, what their time frame was, etc.

There were several candidate crew at coffee this past Wednesday. I had a little chat with a young couple who needed a ride to the main land, but they were cycling and I decided their bikes would be too cumbersome to transport. Next I talked to Mitch whose pitch over the radio had been that, even though he didn't know much about sailing, he was good at staying up late and could curl up and sleep in small corners. That sounded like my sort of crew and I invited him out to Mabrouka for a get acquainted tour at noon where we sealed the deal.

So Mitch and I (I'll do a Rogue's Gallery edition on Mitch later.) motored out of La Paz on a Thursday morning after Mabrouka's appointment at the gas dock. She got a wash down, 140 liters of diesel, and a belly full of fresh water. Mitch came aboard with his backpack full of his life's possessions, threw it unceremoniously down below, and we cast off the lines.

Mitch has only the basics on sailing that he dredges up from some time sailing dinghies in his youth. His youth was only a few years ago, if he's not actually still in it. The basics are fine with me. We'll take enough time with poking around the islands to get him acquainted enough to provide the assistance I need to get across the Gulf of California. Class started right away, though, so on the way out the channel we went over some rules of the road, parts of the boat, a few sailing terms, and I gave him some time on the wheel to get used to how Mabrouka likes to be treated. He did just fine.

We turned left out the final jog in the channel, headed up wind and set the sails. The wind was blowing about 12 to 15 knots, so it was a brisk sail. I wasn't in the mood to push very hard on Mabrouka and wanted to take it easy on the new kid, so we didn't come all the way close-hauled. The Sea of Cortez didn't show the short, sharp seas it's notorious for, but the one foot chop wore foaming white crests and the wind ahead looked like it had some more bluster in it, so we put the first reef in the main. Again, Mitch did just fine.

We sailed for awhile, but weren't making our destination efficiently. The wind wussed out after an hour or so, but the chop didn't. Mabrouka was getting flogged into a standstill, so I wussed out too and we took in the genny and motor-sailed dead up wind into Ensenada del Candelero. Chosen for a good hike and some nice snorkeling as well as a beautiful Sea of Cortez setting, Candelero would not disappoint. Can an aquamarine bay, red sandstone cliffs, warm days and a cool breeze get to be boring? We'll see.



Candelero (The candle maker? The torch bearer?) is a relatively large bay split roughly into halves by a reef that runs from the middle of the sandy beach out to Roca Monumento that stands monumentally in the center of the bay. We staked out our claim in the northern half a hundred yards south of cliffs that watched us with faces pock-marked like rose colored swiss cheese, wearing horizontal bands of rock strata that suffered with the parched laugh lines of geological age.

Mitch got his first lesson in anchoring in blue-green water that was clear enough to see the chain weave among the sand and rocks on the bottom 15 feet below. (I'm not a tough instructor, but my classroom is pure hell!) Although the cliffs sheltered us from the direct effect of the north wind, it made its way with fairly consistent energy around the point, down the valley at the head of the bay, and across our stretch of water so that Mabrouka swung back and forth in annoyance at the end of her tether.

It wasn't long before we were both over the side in fins and mask to case out the joint for tomorrow's snorkeling activities, me heading for the rocky shore and my crew going the opposite direction to check on Monument Rock. My report came back only so-so. There were some nice fish, but not much coral and the visibility was only about 20 feet. Mitch came back telling of a small manta (what we learned later is actually a mobula ray), lots of fish, and a deep drop off on the far side of the little island. That's where we'd go.