We left Ensenada in the company of another boat, s/v Eos, whose owners hail from various parts of the globe but most recently sold their home in British Columbia to launch into the cruising life, along with their energetic dogs, Finn & Clover.

We were of rather like-minds about our approach to sailing the 700 miles south to the tip, or cabo, of the Baja Peninsula, and our boats were well-matched for speed, so it was a good fit. Plus, we like dogs.
Our approach on this trip was not to "gunk-hole," which means to dip into all the cool little anchorages along the way and take time enjoying the trip, but rather to follow the wind and seas and get around the corner to La Paz before Christmas. Andy still works and needs to get back to Canada for a bit, and Allan and I are meeting some friends in the La Paz area.

It was a good strategy: the wind favored most of our trip south, and we had our sails up for more than half the time, which is a good percentage, historically, for this boat and her adventures so far. The seas were also magnificent, with a following swell that gave us the chance to surf gloriously down each wave while the boat made the most delightful watery slooshing sounds. It was smooth, and fast, and (mostly) quiet. We made two stops, one in Bahia Asunción, and one in Bahia Magdalena.

Asunción is one of our favorites, attended by one of our favorite guys along this coast, Lery Espinosa. Lery is a lobster fisherman during the night and a (Critter sighting! As I write a mobula ray is jumping happily out of the water just behind our boat!) cruiser-helper during the day. He helps us get fuel, ferrying jerry jugs to the local gas station via his dinghy and pickup truck, then helping us pump it into our tanks, he'll take you to shore in his dinghy if you prefer that over attempting the waves for a beach landing, he'll refer you to all the local spots in this tiny town for food, groceries, etc. and he'll offer up any advice you might need. He's also a sailor and keeps his sailboat anchored in the bay.

As expected (and the reason we didn't stop earlier in Bahia Tortuga), the Santa Ana winds kicked up from the east, picking up all the desert-y sand and reducing visibility a bit, and churning the sea into a messy stay-on-the-boat situation. So we stayed on our boats for 2 days, texting each other, until it laid down. We got up early on the the third day and headed out before the sun came up.

It was a lovely 32-hour passage and we arrived in the afternoon and dropped anchor in Man-O-War cove, an hour inside the Bay, where it's blissfully calm. There's a little fishing village there, and a wonderful beach restaurant. After settling in we picked up Louise, Finn and Clover and went ashore, giving the dogs and the humans the first chance to stretch legs since we left Ensenada, 530nm earlier. The beach was strewn with spiny half-dried sea urchin, rocks, and occasional fish heads, so it was a short, guided walk with dogs on leashes. A bit later the humans returned to the beach for dinner, relishing cold beers and fresh fish and shrimp tacos as the sun went down.

Up the next morning for a comfortable 8:30am departure for Cabo San Lucas. We were pleased to find the wind within an hour of our departure, and sailed non-stop for the next 22 hours. Pure heaven for this catamaran, which absolutely loves a nice downwind sail. No critter sightings until nearing Cabo, when we saw our first whales. There was a bit of sail drama, though, to pepper-up an otherwise fabulous trip: in the night, while I slept, Allan had to make a quick heading change while under sail and the beautiful headsail I call the "Creature" got tangled up in pillows of sail fabric wrapped tightly in rope, an unrecoverable mess without help. Leaving it up risked ripping that beautiful sail, so Allan woke me, and under his calm direction, wearing headsets and life jackets and snugly tethered to the boat, we brought the whole mess down and dragged it carefully to the cockpit, where it lay in a fluffy pile, to be untangled later.

The next afternoon we rounded the corner into Cabo and all of it's chaos - a stark contrast to the simple fishing towns of the coast. Glass-bottom boats, pangas loaded with life-jacketed tourists, jet skis, massive millionaire boats, the hotel and condo-strewn beaches, the beautiful rocky arch at the entrance to the bay - it's an interesting and rather spicy end to the 700 previous miles.

We were surprised to find the anchorage fairly empty. Allan and I decided to get fuel before anchoring, dodging the tourist pangas on their way out (there seems to be a total lack of speed limit in there, so it's a bit wild) and sliding into the fuel dock without incident. Well, almost without incident - one panga cut right in front of us and we had to yank both engines into reverse to avoid hitting them - that must have been a thrill the tourists were not hoping for, being T-boned by a catamaran!

Once settled at anchor we took a short nap, and as we were gearing up for an evening aboard, listening to the loud DJ booming from the beach in some sort of obnoxious bar game and the music coming from other restaurants ashore, we lamented that we were missing the Parade of Lights back in our home harbor in California. But then we started noticing a familiar behavior of the boats, milling about, strewn with holiday lights, gathering as the sun dropped lower, and we realized "Hey! A Cabo Parade of Lights!" So we took our comfy camp chairs up on the roof, got some cold drinks and blankets, and watched the show under a bright, full moon with the last of the light glowing from behind the arch, the boats parading in a huge circle in the bay for the benefit of everyone on the beach and all of us in the anchorage. The show was capped by a short but delightful fireworks show, and then another from the beach directly in front of us.

We stayed two days, got the fuel, untangled the Creature, bought some groceries, had $40 massages, relaxed, caught up on emails, and generally decided we didn't hate Cabo San Lucas as much as we thought, in fact, we might have stayed longer but a decent weather window seemed to be opening up for the 7-hour trip up to Los Frailes, our next stop en route to La Paz. We knew the weather for the next week was likely to be a no-go for our northward passage and we'd probably spend some time in Frailes, but we wanted to keep moving in that direction.

Our passage started out nice enough, no wind and fairly smooth seas, but then Neptune woke up and decided to compensate for our fabulous trip down the Baja. Snarly and wet, choppy and uncomfortable, I called the next 5 hours a bashy-smash. (It felt like WAY more than 5 hours!) This boat makes sharp, loud "BANGS!" as water slaps up under the bridge deck beneath us, or hits the hulls in a certain way, it's like being inside a metal box while 7 gorillas throw rocks at you. It's a catamaran thing. Mono hulls endure these sorts of seas in other miserable ways, and the gang on Eos was suffering their own agonies, so by the time we reached Frailles we were all spent. We anchored into a stiff 20 knot wind blowing straight off the beach, which thankfully eased as the sun went down.

Yesterday was a quiet day spent mostly aboard, resting, catching up on misc. admin that seems to not go away just because you've left your "normal" life behind. I started a sourdough loaf (a 2-day process, or more) and Louise made banana bread. We washed our windows and Allan took a swim while I worked out, using scuba weights and stretchy bands. We all went ashore in the late afternoon and threw a tennis ball and a ratty dog-frisbee for the rambunctious canines, Louise and I lamenting our "princess feet" as we ouched-ouched-ouched our way along the rocky shore in bare feet. Back aboard Allan and I made plans to do a dive in the morning, before the winds kick up; we're still trying to get all our gear collated and tested since we have a few new things.

On the horizon: we'll stay here today and tomorrow, diving, maybe hiking, "relaxing" which were still not very good at, and tomorrow night we hope to have a chance to sneak north another 10 hours or so to Los Muertos, the last stop on our way to La Paz. We'll be in La Paz through the New Year and have some spectacular plans in January, which I have previously alluded to, and which I'll talk about later when things gel.

For now, as we ease into the last few days before Hannukah and Christmas, we wish you a wonderful season and lots of good food!

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