Attracted by our newly-raised American flag, a Mexican fisherman cried out "Obama!" as we sailed into our first international port, Ensenada harbor: Our first contact with Mexico. Then our fledgling patriotism was brought to earth by the really enormous Mexican flag behind the marina where we came in, like a bandanna for Paul Bunyan. Mexico likes huge flags.

The trip from San Diego was some of the best sailing we've done the whole trip, 10-15 knots pushing us along for hours until it tapered off during the night. By the end we had gotten a free ride most of the sixty-five-odd miles from San Diego to Ensenada; everyone else we spoke to had motored the whole way.

In the morning the sunrise found us just outside Ensenada, a couple of hours ahead of schedule. The sunrise was spectacular and we were distracted by the idea that we had sailed to a whole new country! Now this being Baja they take dollars everywhere and speak English well and all have relatives in LA or San Diego, but still! A whole new country, discovered by us! Steep mountains frame the city and the Bahia de Todos Santos, and they are strikingly dry and barren.

We tied up at the friendly Baja Naval marina and then spent the day doing paperwork. Fortunately Ensenada has a newfangled, highly efficient system to help foreigners arrive. There's a small building called CIS near the port that contains most of the offices one needs in order to enter the country by boat. Here's more or less the sequence of affairs: First, buy Mexican liability insurance if you haven't got it from the States. Then go to the CIS office. When you go inside, the windows are clearly marked though what you do there isn't. First, go to Immigration with your passports and papers from the marina. Get them stamped. Second, go to the bank window across the atrium and pay some money to get additional stamps. Third, return to Immigration to get a piece of paper to take to the Port Captain. Fourth, go to the Port Captain's office across the atrium, pay some money and get another stamp. Fifth, go to the bank window and pay some money to get a Temporary Import Permit for the boat. Sixth, take the Temporary Import Permit down to the Customs office. Then go to a copy shop and get 20 copies of everything, and then figure out how to store the pile on the boat. See? Simple!

There is an automobile race here called the Baja 1000--you might have heard of it. All sorts of vehicles, from unmodified VW bugs (my favorite) to turbine-powered professional monsters, drive 1000 miles in a hurry around the Baja desert. Well, the race begins and ends in Ensenada, and it began the Friday we arrived. So there were helicopters everywhere, and the end of town near the Civic Center was full of t-shirt tents and 5-story vinyl Coca-Cola and Tecate cans. The locals were all distracted and wished they were at home, watching TV so they could follow the race. There were also foreigners everywhere, so we felt good being ensconced in the marina, which is a pretty scenic spot. By Sunday the whole thing had dissipated (I said they were in a hurry) and Ensenada had returned to its normal pace.

The fish tacos in Ensenada are five times better than they are reputed to be. Now, not all of them are equally good, but two of the shrimp tacos I had were among the most delicious things I've ever eaten. At the current rate of exchange they cost about USD$0.85 apiece. On the table the restaurants provide you with half a dozen or more sauces of various kinds, plus onions sliced with cilantro, cabbage, radishes, etc. etc. If one likes tacos one can easily have a lavish meal for $3.

The fish market is also outstanding. There are all sorts of creatures caught here and they are so delicately presented. The shrimp are arranged in uniform rows just like the dorado and the bonito and the mojarra and the clams. The presentation of the octopi might be improved, perhaps, but to say anything would be nitpicky.

We went wine tasting at the Santo Tomas wine shop one afternoon--Baja has a winemaking region--and really enjoyed ourselves, unsurprisingly. The wines are quite competently made and are quite reasonably priced. We conducted the whole venture in Spanish, so we got to practice vocabulary like "terrain" and "plum" and "leather" and "chocolate". The

The state museum of art beckoned and we strolled over to see what they had on display. It was surprisingly refreshing to see modern art--paintings, sculptures and photographs from Mexico and around the world--and their well-stocked bookstore provided us with two new Santo movies for our ever-expanding collection.

People compare the climate here to San Francisco. I think they haven't spent much time in San Francisco: It's just not windy enough, and it's much too warm here. Yesterday the weather was in the mid-60s and the locals were bundled up in sheepskin boots and woolen overcoats. But there is considerable pea-soup fog at times, so I guess that's what they're thinking of.

So we stayed four days in Ensenada. The last night it rained heavily and in the morning the water was full of floating trash and oily scum. Though Ensenada was nice--and our last significant port before Cabo San Lucas, 700 miles south--we grew restless to move on. The tension between staying and going can get on one's nerves.