A reunion while sheltering
03 December 2013 | Bahía Los Frailes, Mexico
Photo: Tregoning (left) and Falcon VII in Bahia Los Frailes, Mexico
With a wintertime “Norther” forecast to create two days of strong headwinds and nasty waves that would be steep and at short intervals, at 2 am on Sunday (December 1st) we slowly crept into the shelter of Bahía Los Frailes. We could see about a dozen lights around the bay but it took a while to distinguish that some were on buildings, some were trucks moving along the beach, and three were mast-lights from anchored sailboats. Without a moon, it was so dark that we could only see the outline of the closest boat but all three showed strong signals on radar. Even though we had to drop the anchor in water that was 100 ft deep (30 m) we decided to position ourselves at the end of the line of boats and not risk going any closer to the beach which was invisible but upon which we could clearly hear waves breaking. Randall nobly slept in the cockpit just in case the deep anchor did not hold well but Tregoning rested very peacefully.
We had hoped to get to La Paz before the northern winds started to whistle down the Sea of Cortez but as soon as we rounded the south end of Baja California, our progress was impeded as we motored into the choppy waves. As soon as that started, we debated about turning tail and sailing downwind back to anchor at Cabo San Lucas but it turned out that we made a good decision to keep going to Bahía Los Frailes (the Friars). The bay is sheltered by the easternmost point of Baja and is one of only two good anchorages for these conditions between Cabo San Lucas and Bahía de La Paz.
There is something rather magical about waking in an anchorage that you came to in the dark, especially if everything looks safe. This was our third nighttime anchoring experience since we left Olympia (the others being Drakes and San Simeon Bays) but the first time that we stayed long enough to really appreciate where we had ended-up. A particularly pleasant surprise in Bahía Los Frailes was that not only was the bay beautiful but we were anchored next to friends, Jim and Tricia on Falcon VII. After a brief chat on the VHF, we raised our anchor and moved to fill the space that the middle boat had recently left and we felt much more comfortable with our anchor in just 30 ft of water (9 m). The wind blew off the beach all day which kept Tregoning perpendicular to the shore and minimized the waves, so we were able to get some sleep before Jim and Tricia joined us for dinner.
We had exchanged periodic emails but we had not seen Falcon VII since early November when we were all in Morro Bay so it was fun to catch-up with their news. Without stopping to see relatives and pick-up new sails and a stove, they had made a much more leisurely passage from central California south to Cabo San Lucas. They had stopped at Turtle and Magdalena Bays on the west coast of Baja, which we had only sailed past. They had also spent several days in and around Cabo San Lucas where we had stopped for only 20 minutes to get fuel.
Randall had not fished much on the passage because we had a huge tray of lasagna to finish but he was rather pleased to find that he was the only one who had caught a fish. Admittedly it was a black skipjack (Mexican little tunny), which is one of our least favorite fish to eat with very dark red, strongly tasting meat. However, it was dead by the time we got it aboard so we ate it rather than waste it and, luckily, I had just brewed a batch of mango chutney which made it much more palatable.
Needless to say, he had hooked the fish during one of the periods when we were sailing fairly fast on a broad reach so it was quite an effort for him to pull in as we did not want to slow down too much (we were only able to sail for just over half of the week’s passage). As he hauled, Randall noticed a young sea lion leaping around the fish and periodically rising up to stare at us and listen to Randall who was shouting loudly for it to go away. Randall became convinced that the sea lion would rob him of his first Mexican catch so he was a little surprised when he landed a whole fish and not just a head.
It was quite a culture-shock to arrive in the Cabo San Lucas area after seven peaceful days at sea during which we had seen relatively few boats and little development on land. As we approached Cabo Falso, which is the southernmost point of Baja California, we started to see many sport-fishing boats hunting the deep-ocean prizes of tuna, Dorado (mahi mahi ), and marlin. A few hotels and golf-courses were perched along the shoreline. As we got closer to the pinnacles and arch off the Land’s End headland that protects Cabo San Lucas from the Pacific swells, we were surrounded by more and more pangas (launches), day-sailors, and charter boats, and the density of condos and hotels greatly increased. Entering Bahía de San Lucas, we met all types of boats zooming around in circles or going out to watch the sunset, including dinner-cruise yachts, parasails, jet-skis, people-being-towed on large floats, kayaks, and SUPs (stand-up-paddleboards). It all seemed quite chaotic so we were very thankful that the fuel-dock just inside the protected harbor was empty and easy to approach. The harbor was surrounded by a crush of hotels, restaurants, and shops from which loud music and tempting aromas of food emanated.
Despite being a popular stop for Spanish galleons plying the trade routes from the Philippines to Acapulco in the late 1500s, the lack of freshwater and unfriendly Pericu Amerindians prevented much development at Cabo San Lucas until the nearby tuna fishery was discovered in the early 1900s. Piers and canneries accompanied the development of the fishing village but the lack of road-access hindered much expansion until just after Randall visited 1968. At that time the village did not have much more than some pangas pulled-up on the beach, a few sport-fishing boats anchored in the bay, and a tiny airport.
Everything changed for the village in 1969 when its tourism potential was realized and funding flowed in to construct the inner harbor, provide freshwater, enlarge the airport, and open the trans-peninsular highway in 1973. As a shocked Randall could testify, the village is no longer recognizable with a population of more than 110,000, high-priced marina space for almost 600 vessels, 8 world-class golf courses, and numerous daily flights from all over the world.
The rapid, modern, and tourism-oriented development of Cabo San Lucas contrasts with the steady growth of the port-city of Ensenada. After the bay was named by Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo in the mid-1500s, the town of Ensenada de Todos Santos was established. It became an important port and the arrival site for many adventurers who spread south into Baja California along the mission trails. Ensenada now has a population around 200,000 and facilities include a container port, a naval station, cruise-ship docks, and more than 700 marina slips for fishing and cruising vessels.
During our brief stay in Ensenada, the only historic site that we managed to visit was Hussong’s Cantina. Founded in 1892, it is the oldest cantina in Baja and the State of California and has Mexican alcohol license number 002 (number 001 no longer operates). It is also reputedly where the margarita originated and these are powerful cocktails served in small, narrow glasses, not the large bowl-shaped glasses popular in tourist destinations. As planned, we drank a margarita-toast to our good friends Nancy and her late husband Jere, knowing that he would have got a kick out of visiting a place with such a colorful history and sawdust on the floor. When Randall had last visited 30 years ago, it was quite a wild bar with some very strange acts but now in the middle of a Saturday afternoon it was relatively subdued.
As well as their company, the other benefit for us of meeting Jim and Tricia was that they were willing to use their dinghy which was relatively easy to launch from its davits. We were not particularly inclined to pump-up our dinghy which was deflated and rolled-up, so we were very pleased when they suggested a trip to shore on the second day of our stay in Bahía Los Frailes. Having discovered that we were in the wrong time zone when we were not ready for Jim and Tricia (we had to change from US Pacific- to Mountain-Time), we eventually got to shore and made successful use of the transom-wheels to beach their dinghy between breaking waves.
Our goal was to hike up Cerro Los Frailes, the 755 ft-high hill (230 m) on the sheltering headland north of our anchorage. Our cruising guides suggested that it would be necessary to make our own way scrambling over the rocks but we soon found a steep, narrow trail that was clearly marked by small stone cairns. In glorious sunshine, it was a fascinating climb with numerous interesting species of cacti and other plants that were not familiar to us. With red-tailed hawks, vultures, magnificent frigate birds, and a peregrine falcon circling overhead, and a few birds in the shrubs such as a couple of juvenile orioles (either hooded or streak-backed), we were easily able to disguise our lack of climbing-fitness with pauses to admire the flora and fauna.
Whatever the effort, the climb was certainly worthwhile because at the wonderfully breezy summit we had spectacular views not only of our boats in the gorgeous azure and turquoise waters of Bahía Los Frailes but inland towards the mountains and north over Bahía Pulmo. Anchoring is not allowed in the latter bay because it is preserved as the Cabo Pulmo National Marine Park which protects the only hard-coral reef in the Sea of Cortez. Permitted local pangas can take snorkelers and divers out to the reef, which is something that Monique (our friend from Nuchatlitz) had recommended so that will be a goal for a future visit.
Having returned to the beach we walked towards the numerous fishing shacks but learned that the only hotel in the bay was closed so there was nowhere to get a cold drink. We passed a fishing panga that had been driven up onto the sand and saw the catch of various species of small sharks which we gathered were to be eaten. Two bird species in the area that were new to us were elegant terns and olivaceous cormorants.
In the afternoon we snorkeled around the rocky shore of the headland where the water was fairly clear and as soon as we rolled into the water we could see magnificent schools of yellowtail surgeonfish and groupers. For Jim and Tricia, this was their first warm-water snorkel ever from Falcon VII so this day was very meaningful to them in terms of justifying all of the effort to prepare for their departure from Canada and the four-month passage south.
After a more-than-18-month hiatus from snorkeling in tropical waters (we were 4 nm south of the Tropic of Cancer), Randall and I were positively giddy to be surrounded by so many familiar reef-fish species. We could not remember all their names in the water but we knew that we had seen most of them before such as: Moorish idols, balloonfish, guineafowl puffers, coral rockfish, needlefish, bicolor- and bumphead parrotfish, Mexican hogfish, scissortail- and giant damselfish, Panamic sergeant majors, barberfish, and king angelfish. Between the outstanding hilltop view of the dazzling blue bay and the crowds of multi-colored reef-fish, it was the perfect reminder of why we love cruising in the tropics. Ah yes, this is the life!