Passage to La Paz
We made it to La Paz finally. We left Mazatlán on a Wednesday morning (April 16, 2014), with pretty good swells every 10 seconds. Of course both cats immediately threw up, it was like a chain reaction. Samantha starts drooling, then throws up, which gets Jackson going, and I am close to it, but manage to breathe through my mouth to survive. And Ron, being the sweet man he is, cleans it all up. Poop included. Overall the sail back across the Bay was fairly uneventful, just as we wanted it, and the opposite from me injuring my ribs on the way over. We did end up changing fuel filters a few times, including one at 1:00 am. It is eerie sitting in the middle of the empty sea, with some moonlight through the clouds, the sea black and shiny, and hearing NOTHING (when he is down below changing fuel filters). You begin to imagine things, with the waves making distinct sounds, like whales or dolphins are talking to you. No other boats around for 80 or so miles. Very weird. You have to make sure your fears don’t take over, and allow yourself to find some peace in the quiet. Anyway, we arrived in Bahía los Frailes the next evening, with 20 knots of wind at our stern and 3-5 foot waves. Once we made it into the anchorage, the seas flattened down some and we anchored with no problem in about 18 feet of water. You could see the bottom through the turquoise water. It was the day before Good Friday and the beaches were wall-to-wall people in their tents, trucks and tarps, but we were the solo boat at anchor! We watched kids and families playing in the surf, and later, campfires on the beach, and random fireworks. Spent two nights there so we could rest up from our overnight passage, as we never tend to get much sleep doing those.

We left los Frailes and headed to Bahía de los Muertos (Bay of the Dead), another anchorage on the Baja peninsula, north of Frailes and on the way to La Paz. Developers of a new resort there have “renamed” the area as Bahía de los Sueños (Bay of Dreams) so they can sell more luxury homes. I guess people don’t want to live on the Bay of the Dead, even though the name comes from the “dead men anchors,” huge train axels that were buried in the cove in the 1920’s and used as anchors for barges that transported ore from the silver mines nearby. It is a beautiful little Bay with a long beach that again was crowded with campers and tents and lots of families enjoying the Easter weekend. Loud Mexican music from their vehicles, jet skis and fishing pangas circling the cove, and up on the hill at the luxury resort, you could hear American tunes. Quite a cacophony of sounds. Beautiful teal blue water and one restaurant onshore which made the best chicken tostadas I have had since being in Mexico. Oh yeah, speaking of that, we have now officially been here over 7 months. Kind of strange.

We spent a couple of days there, enough time to see all of the campers leave and the beach return to its previous barren state. Headed out through two channels which were supposed to be challenging if the winds and currents were strong, but we encountered neither, and we stopped mid-afternoon in Puerto Balandra. If you can Google Balandra Bay or Puerto Balandra, you should. It is an absolutely gorgeous bay, 12 miles North of La Paz, with crystal clear water (turquoise and clear) and sparkling white sand. They have a famous “Mushroom” rock there, which is kind of cool (hint, hint, see photos), but to me the beauty is in the surrounding cliffs and rock overhangs against the incredible blues and greens of the water. We stayed a couple of days, and later came back for a couple more days of kayaking, snorkeling, and generally playing in the water. We finally got to La Paz a week after leaving Mazatlán, but only covered 266 miles. Well, that is what a sailboat is about, and I guess retirement for that matter. Going as slow as you want, taking your time to enjoy sights along the way. Not necessarily adhering to a rigid schedule.

La Paz
La Paz is quite the spot for expats and cruisers. Much more laid back than Mazatlán, and with the name La Paz meaning The Peace, I guess it fits. The city has approximately 275,000 residents, with a malecón stretching miles along the waterfront. Every evening hundreds of people stroll this walkway stretched between the marinas along the palm-lined street, with views of boats anchored offshore, couples and families on foot or skates, with kids on low bikes winding their way between a sea of legs. Music is heard from the many restaurants and bars lining the malecón, as well as the cars cruising by. We found a favorite restaurant, Rancho Viejo, that serves incredible tacos for 20 pesos each ($1.50 US). They are served with a guacamole sauce, freshly made roasted tomato salsa, lime wedges, grated cabbage, marinated peppers and onions, and pico de gallo. We ended up buying a half kilo of their marinated and grilled pork to take with us on our cruise to the islands and it came to 125 pesos ($9.50 US). That is a pound of meat, and all the trimmings, including fresh tortillas. That was enough for the two of us for 3 lunches! And oh so delicioso! Speaking of food, we also found a wonderful Italian restaurant here, that looks like you just stepped into an Italian bistro when you walk inside the stucco walls. The Italian chef/owner came out to greet us and talked us into having his fresh seafood salad. Ron was having none of that, and the rest of us were a little nervous, but the owner guaranteed we would love it, or not pay for it. Well, it was squid, shrimp, and scallops (ceviche style) served over fresh new cut-up potatoes and lettuce with an incredible lime dressing over it all. The four of us shared it and it proved to be incredible and we didn’t leave a single piece on the plate. Ron also had lasagna with béchamel and marinara sauces and I had a spicy shrimp sauce over homemade fettuccini. Yum. And all reasonably priced.

We also had to make another visit to the vet as when we went in Mazatlán the vet decided not to give the cats rabies shots, but three other vaccines that they needed, and a rabies vaccine can’t be given at the same time. We called the La Paz vet and were told we didn’t need an appointment if it was just for a shot. We went in at 9:00am and the vet spent over an hour with us, as we had other questions for him. He turned out to be a wonderful vet, very professional, organized and conscientious. The visit turned out to be even cheaper than Mazatlán. He charged us 380 pesos for two complete exams and rabies vaccinations. That comes to about $14.45 a cat. And speaking of low-cost… I needed to see a doctor for an infection that I don’t need to go into detail about, but I needed an antibiotic. We put out the call over the VHF radio net (for those of you who haven’t read past blog entries, the radio net is a daily occurrence between cruisers in each town we visit. A different person “hosts” it each day, and everyone tunes in to a certain channel on their VHF radio, at the same time every day. We find out about the weather, the current money exchange rate, upcoming events like holidays & bank closures or swap meets, places to find necessary parts or fresh produce, as well as local services.) Anyway, we put out the question on the “net” about where to find a good gynecologist and one of the other boats said he had a female general practitioner onboard who would be happy to consult with me. So she and I talked (on another channel from the general one), and we set up an appointment for the next morning at 10 am. Well, she arrived BY DINGHY as she often makes house calls or boat calls in this case. She had her medical bag with her, and took my blood pressure, examined my current medications, asked the appropriate questions, and wrote me some prescriptions. She trained in Guadalajara, and is connected to a University practice here in La Paz. She charged me $38 US! You can’t find that kind of service and price in the U.S., that’s for sure! I am going back to see her once we return from the islands and have a more thorough exam done.

Espíritu Santo or as Ron states it, “The Holy Ghost Tour”
We left La Paz with friends who were on their boat, Pacific Breeze, on May 2nd, headed for the Isla Espíritu Santo island chain, a National Marine Park in the Sea of Cortez. We decided to get moving again as it was again a big holiday time down here with several holidays lined up; El Día de los Nino (Children’s Day), El Día de Trabajo (Labor Day – which they do take seriously here), the Anniversary of the Founding of La Paz (close to 500 years ago), and Cinco de Mayo. I love the fact that they have a Day for Children, just like Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. It is celebrated big-time here. I can understand it, as families really are tight, and seem to be so loving to their children. My hairdresser here and I had quite a discussion about the difference between raising kids in the U.S. versus Mexico. I am continually amazed by some of the things I see here between adults and children, even with teenagers. I don’t think I am just seeing through rose-colored glasses, but maybe?

Our two boats stopped for a couple of days in Balandra again, then into San Gabriel bay on Isla Espíritu Santo. The whole island has approximately 32 coves, and NO developments on the island, since it is a national park. It is very stark, with rust, tan, and volcanic rock cliffs, bare mountains except for the occasional cactus, and maybe a few mangroves in a couple of coves, all contrasting with the turquoise and blue seas. San Gabriel Bay has a huge white sand beach, and snorkeling around a point off a reef. However, we didn’t enjoy either one because as soon as we anchored hundreds of bees surrounded the boat. We had heard they seek out fresh water, and won’t bother you, but we had no idea there would be that many. We ended up placing a bowl out at the bow of the boat, away from the cockpit, so that the bees could have their water and we could go about our business without any worry. The problem with that plan was that bees started coming in through our overhead hatches and into the boat, thus teasing the cats into chasing them. We were concerned that they would be stung, so we had to put up screens and close any other openings. So we were essentially locked inside for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Additionally, the coromuels came up. These are southwest winds that are unique to the La Paz area, and come up as the sun sets and don’t die down until the next day at 11 or 12 in the morning. They are winds that are created by cool air from the Pacific Ocean, rushing over the low lying land on the peninsula southwest of La Paz. The wind can reach 20-30 knots, which isn’t that bad, but it is the fetch that becomes problematic. Fetch is the building up of the seas across great distances which really become big swells by the time they reach your boat. It makes for very rocky, rolly, uncomfortable nights of trying to sleep. So we only stayed one night, leaving to seek out a more protected anchorage. Unfortunately the bees were blocking access to the anchor windlass. Ron put on long sleeves, a hat, and leather gloves to carry the water bowl aft, along with the huge swarm of bees! We went about 8 miles up the coast of the island to Caleta Partida, a huge anchorage that is essentially the crater of a large extinct volcano. There are high sloping walls and volcanic rock around the anchorage.

How quiet it is in Partida – you can hear an occasional osprey crying on the wind, but otherwise, it is silent. I understand many people are uncomfortable with that kind of silence, but we revel in it. No sound, but occasional birds, waves licking at the boat and a splash or two. A turtle head poking up, a school of fish flying across the water, escaping the pursuing dorado below. We spend days at anchor doing small chores or maintenance, run the generator to make fresh water, spend a couple of hours reading, practicing Spanish, taking photos, or writing, and the rest of the time kayaking, swimming, snorkeling or taking the dinghy out to shore to explore or walk the beaches. Time in towns is spent reprovisioning groceries or supplies, going out to lunch or dinner somewhere new, and talking to other cruisers or locals to find out the lay of the land.

Tonight in Partida Bay, quiet, absolutely no wind. The cove turned into a silent still bay; not a sound but an occasional splash, low in the glassy dark water, and a laugh and word of English here and there from a sailboat upwind. You know when it is an English laugh versus a Mexican laugh for some reason. And the few words that float by on the wind, “No, really” or “I couldn’t believe…”. Definitely American. But the night otherwise is still, and magical in that regard. When do you ever get that much quiet? When do you even strain for a sound, to prove that you are wrong…. Nothing could be that quiet. But it truly is. Still. And peaceful. It makes you forget the turmoil and trauma in the world. Wow.

One day our Pacific Breeze friends went in their dinghy, and us in ours, exploring the bay. We rounded the north point of the Bay into another long narrow “canyon” with incredible honeycomb rock formations, and red stone cliffs which are really rusted iron-rich volcanic stone. These cliffs rose 200-300 feet straight up from the turquoise water, and straight down below, making for great snorkeling among the underwater boulders and rock walls. Lots of tropical fish and manta rays. A turtle here and there. You can see lots, probably too many photos of our adventure in the accompanying photo album.

One of the last afternoons at anchor our dinner was brought to us, as occasionally happens. An older Mexican panguero (quite old, with several teeth missing, but a beautiful smile all the same) came up alongside our boat in his beat up panga, without any words but ‘pescado fresco,’ communicating that he had fresh fish to sell. I asked him what kind of fish, in my broken Spanish, and he said “cabrillo,” however his pronunciation was poor or my understanding was poor (!) and I told him, “un momento,” and went down for a book. I brought it back up and showed him photos of “Pacific Fish” and he pointed out a seabass/grouper of some sort. I looked up the word in another book and he wholeheartedly agreed when I spoke the correct word. We negotiated a price and he won. Of course! What can I say, he brought it to our boat, filleted, skinned and cleaned! 100 pesos for a ½ kilo. (8 American dollars for 1 pound of fresh fish which will last us for three meals). Not bad. We fried some up in a panko batter, with coconut rice and had a great and simple onboard meal. He went to several other boats at anchor and was able to sell most of his fish, I think. I was hoping for langostinos (lobster), but maybe next time.

Back in La Paz, off to San Francisco

We arrived back in La Paz on May 11th, returning before we had planned as I received news that a dear close friend of mine, probably my bestest friend in San Francisco, was not doing well. My friend and colleague, Steve, had called me to let me know that although the bone cancer he had been battling for the past two years seemed to be in remission, it had moved on/metastasized (?) into his brain. The doctors were telling him that he only has 2-3 ½ months to live. He was devastated, as was I and we cried and talked and cried and talked on the phone. I told him I wanted to come see him while he was still alive, not at a funeral, and he said that he would really like for me to come. I called him back a few days later to see about the first week in June and whether I could stay in his neighbor’s flat, which he often rents out. Well, Steve’s partner, Randy answered Steve’s phone to tell me that he was not well, and that the progression was much faster than they had thought it would be. So I made arrangements to fly out on May 13th. I spent the next week as one of the volunteer friends/family who were taking shifts to care for Steve and to help out his partner, as well as Steve’s parents. The three of them were weary and in need of sleep and support, understandably so. I maintained some shifts, but was there most days, all day long, just doing whatever needed doing – sitting with Steve so others could eat or sleep, grinding and mixing “medicine cocktails,” changing sheets, massaging his legs or arms so he wouldn’t continually scratch them, helping to move him, talking and listening to him as he would enter these fugue-like states of lecturing, supervision or conducting sessions, as with patients. (Steve was also a psychologist and researcher, teacher and mentor, both at UCSF and at the San Francisco VA. He and I started working together at UC on the same day in 1998). It was hard to observe these times, but also touching and funny and sad. I felt very lucky and privileged to be there during that time, to be able to care for his body, even though his mind was not always there, and care for his family in the last weeks of his life. I got to know his family and friends in a way that I hadn’t previously. My heart is broken and full of sorrow, but I feel my life was enriched for having had Steve in my life for so many years. He was a brilliant man, and one of the kindest and warmest souls I’ve ever known.

So I am newly back to La Paz, again. Hiding down below, out of the 100 degree weather. I think the pool is calling….