Unexpected detour to Turtle Bay
30 December 2014 | Hanging on the Hook in Turtle Bay
Blues skies and a bit of a breeze
The picture is Juan in his fishing boat.
At about 10am on December 21st I left Coral Marina in Ensenada. The wind was almost non-existent and I motored away on a nice day. By 3pm I had some wind, actually quite a bit: 14kts. I double reefed the main and the jib and was having a nice sail, but for one thing. I couldn't get the wind vane to work.... but no problem, I just turned on the electrical autopilot who was as happy to steer for me as the Wind vane autopilot should have been.
Then the next day, the engine quit. And it wouldn't start. I could hear that it wasn't for lack of battery power - it was turning over fine but not catching for more than a fraction of second. I suspected water in the fuel (but I'm no diesel guy so that's just a guess).
Returning to Ensenada where they have such a fine boatyard was one option, but it would be really tough because the wind had picked up and it was from the North. I would have to tack back and forth under sail, without the engine - against the wind and waves. That would be tough and no telling how long it might take (I was already over 100 miles away). Because it is a sailboat, and because Cabo San Lucas was to the South - the same direction as the wind and waves - I could sail down there. But, with no engine, there would be no recharging of the batteries, and that meant no lights to make me visible at night, no radar or AIS to alert me to other boats at night, and worst of all, no electrical autopilot. When a person sails single-handed they really need that ability to have the helm under direction while they hop about attending to this and that. And my wind vane wasn't working for me. The electrical was to be its backup.
I decided to go for Turtle Bay (Bahia de Tortugas... with the tiny port of Bartholome). It is all-weather anchorage. It was to the South (and a bit East), so I had the wind and waves with me. I could sail there in a couple of days. Then the fun started. Out of clear sky full of stars, the way that you can only see when far from any city lights, the wind piped up. I mean it blew like all stink. It was hitting 29 knots on my meter. That's about 34 miles per hour. And at Sea Level air pressure that is a force to be reckoned with. I put all three reefs in the main sail and rolled up the roller-furling jib an equivalent amount (reducing my total sail area by over 70 percent) and I was still flying. Beam reaching, on the edge of a broach, getting hit with spray every minute, the waves growing confused, the wind making howling sounds, and each strong gust making the mast shudder so hard the boat felt like it was a dog shaking off water. I was sure that I would lose the mast at any minute. During much of this time, while huddled in the corner of the cockpit contemplating what would break or go wrong next, (i.e., feeling more than a little unnerved) I was looking at a little do-hicky on the wind vane and realized I hadn't set it up right. I fixed that in about 2 minutes, and I was back to having a wind vane type autopilot. Yeah!
It howled for two days and felt like I was riding a wild animal. Then, suddenly the wind vane ceased working again. I opened the cockpit cover over the place it connects to the steering and saw that it had snapped the stainless steel wires holding two little blocks to the steering quadrants - I fixed it, but only temporarily - note to self: find some kind of steel ring to replace the wire.
I went back to the electric autopilot when I could but had to hand steer when the seas were rough. At night, especially when alone, my fears build and color all perceptions.
I had a period the next morning where the winds died down and became normal winds... for a while. And, on the 24th at about 3 pm I got to the approach to Turtle Bay. (I even saw a turtle swimming towards shore and he was out there about 10 miles off - he was about 2' across, barnacles growing on his shell which looked sort of like the conquistador helmet with the ridge at the top, and the sides).
It is a fairly round bay about two miles across that is nearly closed off from the Pacific but for a 3/4 mile wide gap between some rocks near the two points on either side of the entrance. My problem was that the wind was still strong and coming directly out of that entrance. I tried for hours to tack back and forth and make it to that entrance... I was almost there when the sun went down. No way was I going to trust the electronic charting programs (one on the Chartplotter and the other on my iPad) to be accurate enough to keep me off the rocks with a night-time entrance. I tried calling on the VHF to see if there was a fisherman who wanted to make some money towing me in... but no luck with that.
I had no choice but to drop sails and let myself slowly drift out into the Pacific. Heading for China at 3 tenths of a knot per hour. Let me tell you, that is horribly frustrating.
I had been sailing (it felt more like being tormented) for three days. I wanted to wash up, to have electricity, to be able to sleep, to eat something that wasn't soda crackers or baloney sandwiches. I was a marine-bound mope. Hunched in that same cockpit corner realizing that I hated sailing. I really hated it. All the tweaking of lines, the reefing, the sail changes, and the endless battle of things going wrong and needing to be put right...
Ugh! I just wanted off and I felt totally helpless to effect any change right then.
I could only wait till the sun came up and start that business of tacking back and forth, and I assumed it would take the better part of that day to get in.
While I was sitting there in the dark drifting away, feeling sorry for my wet, tired, frustrated, smelly self I saw a fishing boat headed my way. By now I was about 3 or 4 miles away and it was about 10pm on Christmas Eve. They started to turn away and I flashed my flashlight at them. It was about a 23 foot long boat with a small cabin stuck in the middle and like a small porch behind it. A 200 horse power engine drove it like a Mercedes. They came over and I explained that my engine 'esta muerte' and the wind wouldn't let me go inside Turtle Bay. They asked if I had a rope. Like asking an Italian restaurant if they have spaghetti! I handed them the rope and off we went. It took an hour or two and they dropped me off right where I wanted to be.
We wished each other Merry Christmas (I gave them a present - $100 US. They hadn't asked for anything.) And off they went, night fishing, I assume.
I dropped the anchor - too dark to see anything except lights on shore and the head of a seal as he swam by looking at me. I left the boat a mess - time enough for that in the morning.