A Whale’s Tale

Hola Everyone,

I don’t mean to be obnoxious by slipping in a Spanish word now and then. It’s become part of my everyday speech after being immersed in the language for so long. (Actually we’re just been here two weeks, yet it seems many months. Having so many new experiences every day stretches time.) Today the guys hoisted me up the mast to repair the tricolor running light at the very tip top. Very exciting. That mast sure seems alot taller from the top looking down, than it does from the deck looking up! Anyway, I’d say, “No problema senor” in that nonchalant Mexican drawl whenever they asked how I was doing. And you know, I really ment it. I trust Randy and Doc so completely. We’ve been in Bahia Tortuga, halfway down the Baja penninsula for almost a week. The weather just hasn’t been favorable for continuing southward. A couple we met in San Diego lost their boat outside Cedros Island last week. Two other crews were rescued by the U.S. Coast Guard the same night. We spend alot of time checking weather reports and only venture out when we feel the weather window looks pretty good. Safe anchorages on this exposed western Baja coastline are spaced far apart. Timo subscribes to “Buoy Weather” and the realtime reports from buoys spaced all along the coast have been the most reliable predictors of weather offshore.

Eva wanted to know about Timo. He’s a Scottish sailor (not Australian) who’s sailed all over the world. He has green eyes and a wickedly impish sense of humor. He, Randy and Doc spend alot of time swapping stories beneath the palm trees on the beach. Those palm trees are actually a rariety here. Most of the town is dry and dusty . People have been really nice to us. Randy and I were on the beach two days ago, I shell collecting and Randy repairing a small tear in the dinghy’s floor. First two little boys offered their help, then a man pulled up in a pickup truck and did the same. We declined their help (sometimes help, needed or not, can get costly) but had a great conversation with the man. He dives for abalone and wears a beaded neclace with a baby abalone shell around his neck. Between his broken English and our broken Spanish we came to understand that the men of Bahia Tortuga have formed a cooperative fishing industry of four groups: Two groups of fishermen, the abalone divers and the crab fishermen (we didn’t understand the word for crab until Juan ran his fingers along the sand like a scuttling crab.) Juan is also an artist and explained how he sands the rough outer shell off the abalone and then buffs the mother-of-pearl shell until it glows. He took two beautiful black abalone shells out of his truck and gave them to us as a gift! I was overwhelmed by his generosity, they are exquisitely beautiful. He wouldn’t take money, he says this is his hobby. That night we went out for dinner and the grandmotherly waitress (who is also the laundress ) gave me a crocheted purse with bangles. She said she doesn’t do disco and felt I could use it more. I’ve taken to combing the boat for little things to tuck into my backpack and give as gifts too. I gave the waitress a pretty little compact with a mirror that I never use. The cruisers in the anchorage are always helping each other with boat repair as well and watching out for each other.

Well, looks as though the Pineapple Express is sending more stormy weather northward up the Baja coast. That means we’ll probably be here till Sunday. There are certainly worse places to be stuck! Randy sends his love and I do too,

Gina

I´m all fumble fingers on this computer.  The keyboard is different, three symbols on several of the keys, so to type a sentence is a step into unknown possibilities.  Kinda like sailing.  We left Ensenada early Sunday morning and sailed (actually sailed rather than motored) for two and a half days straight.  What an experience!  We had wind!  Our buddy boater, Timo, said he set a lifetime record for distance covered on this sail.  It was a glorious sight to see our sails set “wing to wing” (each billowing out on either side of the boat.)  At night we took down the headsail and positioned the mainsail pointing directly back into the cockpit, so any sudden shifts of wind wouldn´t cause the boom to swing wildly about.  We´re super safety conscious.  Whenever we step onto the deck we clip the tethers on our lifevests onto padeyes or lines secured to the boat.  If ever someone needs to go forward out of the cockpit, they call someone else up to watch them, night or day.  Needless to say, we sleep in our clothes.  The first night nobody really slept much.  By the second night, we all conked out as soon as our heads touched the pillows.  Actually we weren´t that fancy, any horizontal surface, with sheets and pillows or without, did just fine.  It was too rolly to do any cooking ( :> ) so we ate whatever was available.  Standing watches, plotting courses and sleeping took most all our attention.  The pod of dolphins who swam beside us about 50 miles out to sea around San Quintin was the highlight of the journey for me.

Now we´re in Bahia Tortuga, Turtle Bay, resting up for our next jump down the coast.  IT´S ACTUALLY WARM TODAY.  I´ve gotten used to bundling up in several layers of clothing at the helm.  The guys are done checking the weather, so I have to go.  Sorry for the short update.  Next time I´ll write more.  Uncle Bill´s computer isn´t letting me in.  It probably filters out all pirates and vagabundos automatically, so will someone forward my letters?  After struggling with spanish and this keyboard, my poor brain refuses to figure out how to get through internet filters.  Thank you for writing to us, we love reading your emails.

With love,
The Vagabundos

Hello my Beloved Family!

I feel so spiffy, like a bona fide international traveller.  I’m in a neat little internet cafe in Ensenada.  Randy and Timo (an Australian cruiser we’ve befriended) are to my right perusing the weather reports, trying to decide whether the weather is with us or ‘agin us tomorrow.  Behind me are small tables supporting several giant carved wooden chess sets.  The delicious aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts over us all.  Umm, umm.  I apologize for not calling everyone as we left San Diego Tuesday morning, April 17.  The phone was beside me at the helm and I was going to call after finishing a song when the ocean let us know we were in her realm again, in no uncertain terms!  As Balena rolled in the waves, a corelle bowl in the galley slipped from the counter to the floor and exploded into a million shards.  Doc (our crew member) went below to sweep it up, tucking his coffee cup in a corner of the cockpit.  The cup remained upright long enough for him to almost finish sweeping up below before another wave tipped its contents all over the cockpit.  So our journey started with a bang.  Me laughing and sloshing through coffeewater at the helm, Doc swabbing the decks for all he was worth and Randy shaking his head as he programmed waypoints into the GPS.

Despite the exciting start, our 60 mile trip to Ensenada was uneventful.  We had almost no wind, a westerly swell of a few feet, and arrived in Ensenada 10 hours later, averaging 6 knots (about 6.5 mph.)  The next day was dramatically different.  To give you an idea of the strength of the wind that began blowing from the northwest, let me describe what happened to the Mexican flag that flies over Ensenada.  It is a beautiful flag and HUGE, at least 100 feet long.  We spotted it waving from far out at sea.  Well, by Wednesday afternoon the wind was snapping it around so violently, it began to shred.  30 soldiers hauled it down from the flagpole and were yanked this way and that as they folded it up.  Needless to say, we’ve stayed put in a snug little slip until the weather improves.

We’re getting to know our way around town.  We walked to the customs office first thing Wednesday morning.  It took 3 hours to file all the necessary papers and pay the fees.  Everything is streamlined today.  In the past it would take a full day to do the “Baja cha-cha” because all the offices and banks were spread all over town.  Now everything is in the same building.  This also eliminated most of the graft.  The clerks were very helpful and spoke English when we ran out of Spanish words.  I got tears in my eyes at the last station and whispered to the translator, “I feel like I’m coming home.”  He gave me a big smile. Exactly why I feel that way, I can’t put my finger on.  The Spanish style of face with those warm brown eyes seem so familiar to me.  There certainly is a quality of aliveness here.  I love the colorful buildings and cobblestone streets.  Both Randy and Doc have commented how much cleaner Ensenada is than they remembered.  A few children have come up to us selling gum and aren’t at all insistent when we say. “No gracias.”

We ate all our meat and fresh fruits and vegetables before we checked into port (that veggie lasagne you made us Linda was so delicious!)  So, one of our first expeditions was to the supermarcado.  We came back to the boat laden with bags of groceries.  I translated the instructions on the bottle of chlorine we bought very carefully, so we wouldn’t get sick eating the produce.  I soaked everything (even the raisins) for 5 minutes in 10 gotas (drops) of chlorine per liter of water, then rinsed everything throughly.  A time consuming labor of love and a really pretty operation.  Red tomatoes and apples, green lettuce and tomatillos, white potatoes and cauliflower, purple grapes, onions, and cilantro were spread throughout the galley.  We’re all healthy so I guess the work was well worth the effort.  Pretty Bird is especially happy.  Doc is a bird person and so Pretty Bird has two guys to fight with.  He waylays Randy and Doc as they go by his cage and pecks at their shoulders, flapping his wings and growling.  It’s all in fun and the guys get into the spirit of the fight and we all laugh.  Of course Pretty Bird is always the victor.

Well, sounds as though we might have another weather window tomorrow.  Ensenada has been good to us.  The warm waters of the Sea of Cortez are calling us onward, however.  We really are having a good time.  We don’t bathe as often as we used to, we worry less than we used to and we all sing alot oftener (Doc has a song for every occasion – good or bad, happy or sad .)   As soon as we get a Mexican phone card, we’ll let you know the number.  I don’t have everyone’s e-mail, including Len and Sue, so please share this letter with anyone else you think might like to read it.  We love you and feel you’re sailing with us in our hearts the whole way.

Gina and the three caballeros (Randy, Doc and Pretty Bird)