After arriving in Santa Rosalia we anchored opposite Marina Santa Rosalia, which had been devastated by Jimena back in September. Thankfully repairs have been made and pontoons reinstated ensuring the residents and visitors here can continue to enjoy this wonderfully individual marina and not be forced to move to the modern and less personable Singular. We took the dingy ashore wondering whether the marina office with its 'yacht club' housed in a tumble down white boarded building on the harbour wall would still be there. Pulling open the cast iron grill that serves as a door we found everything was just the same as when we had left last December albeit a 'Bloody Mary party' was in full swing at 11.30 in the morning. We checked in and as before were instructed that cold beers were available in the fridge and we should make a record of what we take and pay for everything at the end of our stay. After a shopping trip in town we returned several hours later to find the party still going on and the party goers slightly less steady on their feet but more the merrier for it. We were invited to join them and found the heart of cruising right there in a building that looked as if it should have been abandoned years ago.
Santa Rosalia was just as appealing to us this time as it was the first time we arrived last Christmas. Our first stop had to be the juice bar where we topped up our vitamin C levels, fending off the dreaded scurvy. I was dubious to see that all the oranges squeezed were green but the drinks were delicious and the perfect panacea to being at sea. It was difficult remembering the best shops for groceries and in the end decided that each store had its own specialty such as plump corn, firm avocados or the extremely difficult to find plain yoghurt without sweetener! The famous bakery sells pan dulce, a sweet bread that has no chance of making it back to the boat, we tore off small chunks to eat surreptitiously as walked back to the harbour. This was the first proper bread since Guaymas as all that is available anywhere is the dreaded 'Bimbo' plastic sliced loaf. We remembered that this is not the place to buy beef which is sold by the kilo irrespective of cut but found some excellent corn fed chicken from which we created a veritable feast!
Since we arrived the wind has blown strongly from the north and after our run ashore on Saturday we have been confined to Fantasia keeping a watch on the anchor and ensuring she does not drag too far. Hopefully the norther won't last too much longer as we are longing to try one or two of the restaurants and maybe revisit the wonderful 'Terco's Pollito and of course there is 'Chuyitas' Hot Dog stand, as Meri from Windfall puts it the cheapest heart attack you can get!
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The 80 mile trip from Bahia Santa Teresa to Santa Rosalia would take at least 16 hours based on our average speed during this trip. By leaving early evening we should make it into the harbour by lunchtime Saturday and hopefully avoid the unlit pangas in the area at night. The forecast was for light winds but the tide was in our favour and with the wind from the north at least it wouldn't be on the nose this time. I made some supper to eat on the way and were soon on a beam reach making a steady 5 and a half knots, slowed by the weed that had already attached itself to Fantasia's hull. The wind gradually increased until at midnight with 20 knot gusts we reefed and Stuart took over the helm. It was impossible to sleep as the wind continued to build and the forecast 7-9 knots turned into 30+. Several big waves came over the deck and we had our fingers crossed that we had lashed everything down securely enough. There was a definite feeling of de ja vue with regard to the accuracy of the forecast!
By 3 am I was back on watch and the lights of Santa Rosalia were on the horizon. The wind had dropped a little but we were still making 7.5 knots with our wake full of phosphorescence fairy lights. I sat at the helm although the autopilot was firmly in charge watching the wind angle as it veered more and more and I was afraid of gybing the main sail. My other concern was the proximity of the mountains looming out of the darkness on our starboard side and although the chartplotter put them at 3 miles away they looked alarmingly close. Niether of us would place much trust in Mexican charts with our experience of ghost islands and headlands marked several miles from their true position.
Again on this trip we did not see another vessel of any kind and it would be several days before many more yachts would arrive after us in the little harbour of Santa Rosalia.
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Each morning at 0745 we listen to the Sonrisa ham net for Gary's weather and for the last week he has forecast winds of 7-9 knots. Each day we experience something slightly different such as our downwind roller coaster ride from Bahia de Los Angeles and last night, gusts up to 30 knots blowing through the anchorage. We had read about chubascos, strong westerly katabatic winds that blow across the Baja from the Pacific and down the mountains into the Sea of Cortez. Our main concern was dragging our anchor in a tight anchorage between volcanic rocks and without a moon to light the cove it was hard to tell how far away from them we were. The clear sky had clouded over and so without a star in the sky the blackness seemed to wrap around us making us feel quite vulnerable with just an anchor and a length of chain keeping us safe. We set a depth alarm for both shallow and deep water and maintained a regular watch with a spotlight. It was a noisy and rolly night but by first light we were relieved to find all was well and if anything we had only moved by a few feet. It is impossible to predict a chubasco which is common in the northern gulf but on the morning net its effects were reported by cruisers as far south as La Paz.
By first light the wind had dropped and only a slight swell flowed into the anchorage. After our trip south from Bahia de Los Angeles we had enjoyed a couple of days of beautiful solitude in the Bahia de San Francisquito and so it was with a degree of excitement that we motored around the headland to Bahia Santa Teresa where we had read of a small resort with a cantina. Our thoughts turned to a cold Pacifico or two and maybe respite from our supply of tinned meat with a meal ashore. As we rounded the headland a mile of white sandy beach lay between the anchorage and the distant buildings and so the deck shower was pressed into commission. Our normal boat attire was exchanged for smart going ashore clothes and I managed to find my precious turquoise earrings, a birthday gift from Jessica. We boarded the dingy and after a rather unceremonious landing on the steep beach whereupon Stuart got a good soaking we took a leisurely stroll along the shore inevitably collecting shells and sand dollars along the way. It is hard to describe the unspoilt beauty of this coast and we feel privileged that we have experienced it. There is much talk of development here and so it seems that time is running out but for now it is a wonderful place.
Beyond the steep beach is a small airstrip bringing tourists by plane, we had read that John Wayne had been a regular visitor here. In between, another desert garden quite different to the garden around the headland, with more succulent plants but again tidy with no weeds. We reached the end of the beach, the cantina was deserted so no fish tacos for supper but fortunately Fantasia's fridge still held a few cold Tecates and we had tinned chicken in the cupboard. The weather forecast on the ham net promised light northerly winds and so we decided to get back to the boat and prepare for a night sail to Santa Rosalia.
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