Boatyard
11 December 2021 | Baja Naval, Ensenada, México
Alison Gabel | ¡Weather is lovely!
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Boatyard
Here we are tucked into the front left corner of the Baja Naval boatyard in Ensenada, México. We lucked-out with a prime spot overlooking the malecón and the harbor, with our cockpit (back deck) one story up from ground level, enjoying it all - the sunrises, sunsets, rain, and people strolling along the malecón with churros and ice cream cones.
Beneath us, the guys in the boatyard are working on multiple projects: sanding off the old bottom paint in preparation for the new Coppercoat, sealing up an old through hull (hole through the hull) that was unused and cutting a new one for our new, modern, updated transducer (a device that measures depth, water temperature, and does contour mapping) (and no, I asked - we couldn't use the old through hull for the new transducer because it was in the wrong place, drat.) We also discovered that several of our windows have become unseated - one of the huge front windows popped partially loose a few weeks ago, and there must be some secret communication between the windows on this boat, because word got around and more started popping out. So, we're removing and re-bedding most of them, before a full-on revolution occurs. We also found a few blisters in the hull in an area that had been added on 13 years ago, nothing serious, but they needed to be fixed before the new Coppercoat goes on. We have a canvas guy coming to make dinghy chaps (a jacket, of sorts) for our inflatable boat-car, Dinghy McDingface, and we hope he can also make a clear-plastic splash guard for the helm side for those splashy days at sea. Our diesel engines and sail drives (I can't explain in layman's terms what a sail drive is without being hopelessly boring, sorry) are getting a basic service with new oil, new seals, cleaned filters, blah blah blah, and Allan scrubbed up our brass Gori propellers until they virtually gleam. Before we leave the boat yard in a few weeks we're giving Fly Aweigh a full spa day - wash, wax and polish for the entire outside of the boat. She's going to veritably slip through the water, we won't be able to stop.
The first day we arrived, Ensenada did not impress me. It was a hazy, boring-looking day, dull and grayish. This harbor is quite industrial, with a large port area unloading giant container ships into Tetras piles of goods bound for market. There's a continuous hum and whoosh and whir from the cranes and other equipment that do all that unloading. Bonking and clanking and other sounds I can't quite identify fill the air. The cruise ships take up the other side of the harbor, huge and high-rise-y and such behemoth monstrosities, they just don't make a skyline look good. But, after a week, I'm getting to like it here quite a bit. Turns out that ever-changing cruise ship skyline is quite fascinating, depending on which ship is in port. We're getting to know a few of the Carnival boats that come and go every few days and get a kick out of all the lights at night - the neon water slide, the lit basketball court, and all the twinkling red and green Christmas lights in the windows. The industrial side of the harbor forms the backdrop for our sunsets, but with the fishing boats in the foreground it makes for a fun view. Turns out the gray day that greeted us on Day One was not the norm, the air has been clear and sparkly, some of the sunsets have been glorious, and the temperature is cool and fresh. The constant hum of noise from the port sort of blends in with all the other sounds - the mariachi bands playing for the tourists when a cruise ship is in port, the convivial chatter of the guys below us working on the boat, teasing each other, calling out across the yard in that unique Méxican cadence, banging and scraping and sanding. There's a comfort to it all.
And then there's fish tacos. We try to be vegan most of the time, but we cheat. And we do like fish tacos. We wonder, though, how the sea can sustain this hunger for fish tacos - and every other mariscos dish served in this town. Every single restaurant and shack and food cart sells seafood, and virtually nothing else. Clams, shrimp, oysters, lobsters, whole fish, fish guts, who knows what else gets cooked, or served raw, on tortillas or in fancy glass bowl-cups. And this is just Ensenada! I simply can't fathom the volume of sea life that is hauled out of the ocean and destined for dinner plates around the world, but anyhow, I digress. The search for the perfect fish taco is an endless sport, and we're about fish-taco'd-out at this point, so we're starting to explore other options. Kind of hard to be vegan in this town but we'll try to mostly stick to our principles.
And anyhow, we're largely eating on board. This keeps us honest - we can have our flax-laden fruit-topped oatmeal and salads and veggie stir fries with brown rice. This isn't as easy as under normal circumstances, though, because of the drain situation. On most boats, the sinks drain directly into the ocean. And since there isn't an ocean beneath us right now, but rather a bunch of nice guys working on our boat, we can't do dishes or brush our teeth the way we normally do. But as Allan says, I'm a good Pioneer woman and have adapted. We have bins in the sink to catch all the water and I'm employing my boat-savvy water-saving skills when I do the dishes, then every so often we take the full water bin out to the thirsty bougainvillea bush along the wall and give it a feeding. By the time we leave, it ought to be flourishing!
We're spending large parts of our days aboard, enjoying our tree house view from the main salon and getting lots of work and research done. I have a number of organizational projects I've been itching to get at for months, and this is the ideal time to tackle them. I do-Si-do with the guys removing windows, working on the engine, sealing holes, boring holes, and generally try to stay out of Allan's way, which is hard, because he seems to be everywhere at once trying to supervise and guide the work being done. But I've managed to get a few long-awaited things accomplished. We're also starting to think about possibly considering where we're going after we get all spiffed up and pay our way out of this yard. We've been enjoying our folding bikes - they're a Godsend and make covering larger distances a piece of cake. We decided this time around to get real bikes - full-sized folding mountain bikes that we can take onto rougher terrain (which is the description of most Mexican streets and sidewalks) and really see more of the surrounding areas. We're getting in good shape just climbing up and down the ladder tied to the side of the boat, which can get challenging at times with a bucket of water or laden with groceries, but it works fine.
Ensenada has been good to us, Baja Naval has been very good to us, and so far we're just happy as clams (are clams happy? Do they know that most likely they will end up in a glass cup with red sauce all over them in an Ensenada fish eatery?) Maybe we're not as happy as clams, but we're smiling. Tomorrow we plan to explore the Valle de Guadalupe, Ensenada's acclaimed wine region with our friend Terri who just arrived yesterday on a boat from San Diego. Also on the bucket list for the next few weeks is a trip out to El Bufadora, the second largest blowhole in the world, and the only one in the American continent, according to Wikipedia. Can't miss that!