- Now anchored at Isla Partida north (Near Bahia de Los Angeles, not near La Paz), N 28 deg 53.5 min, W 113 deg 2.6 min -

We left San Carlos six days ago headed north, not south like most cruisers. South is towards warm weather and water; north is towards remoteness. We sailed towards Isla Tiburon and the Midriff Islands, at first slowly in light winds, wishing for more wind, and then a brisk sailing wind developed.

But be careful what you wish for: by 2:00 am the winds had increased into the 20's with steep seas for which the Sea of Cortez is notorious, and S/V Ubiquity was then hit by winds gusting into the 30's. I called for my crew, asleep below, to join me, and I struggled to put in a reef with water hitting me on the foredeck, and spray hitting my crew in the cockpit. Not long after getting in the reef conditions moderated, so we could have forgone the reef, but at the moment I felt we needed to prepare for worse or risk loosing control. Those of you who have sailed in such conditions can empathize.

In the morning I thought for a moment that dolphins had joined us, but they were sea lions. These sea lions appear smaller than ours in Oregon, and move gracefully more like dolphins, with a dolphin-like jump out of the water.

Isla Tiburon is the largest island in Mexico, but uninhabited. Arriving at the Los Perros anchorage on the southeast corner of the island we joined several large shrimp boats at the anchorage, anchoring inside of them in shallower water.

The sail around the south of the island the next day was scenic and delightful, anchoring on the west side of the island north of Punta Willard. Fishermen on a ponga visited us, wanting cigarettes and cigars, which we did not have. Instead I gave them a small, focusing LED flashlight, of the type I like and use (I brought some extras to give away). The fishermen offered us either shrimp or scallops, but I responded "Somos vegetarianos". I then asked if I could take their photos instead, and they gladly agreed (see photos above).

We sailed off the anchor Tuesday and after a leisurely sail in light wind reached Isla Partida, a beautiful anchorage. It is remote here. No other boats. Beautiful, large anchorage to ourselves. The waterfowl here are plentiful, and serenade us at night. Some sound like songbirds, others make a "caw" sound, probably the gulls. One bird stayed on the sidedeck of the boat at night; apparently using it as shelter to rest.

Are we really in Mexico? I ask because it rained yesterday and last night, and is now. Not a lot, but light rain, off and on. Here rain is a rarity, and this is the first rain we have seen in Mexico since Ensenada in February 2017, a year ago.

Although in a remote location, we have lots of comforts and technology. I sometimes watch at night episodes of the gold miners TV program I enjoy, which I downloaded for playback later on my iPad. I like my new Kindle reader, and am reading now the war memoirs of a German field marshal. We have printed books, too. We spend quite a bit of time studying guidebooks, charts, and weather. I have downloaded movies I could show on the iPad, with sound coming through the boat's stereo speakers, but so far we have not had time for such urban indulgences.

After doing some boat projects yesterday I kayaked ashore in the afternoon and hiked up to the summit of one of the two peaks forming Isala Partida. There was a cairn and a metal box with a register inside, just like on the many peaks of the mountains of the High Sierra that I have climbed. I signed the summit register. I was the first person to sign the register this year.

The last signature in the summit register was in July 2017. That is how remote it is here.