The Tropic of Cancer

The trip from Turtle Bay was pleasingly quick and to the point (~44 hours). We entered Magdalena Bay, further south along the Pacific coast of Baja, and were welcomed by a randy pod of grey whales. Apparently they’re breeding, and so it seemed. We were under full sail and cruising along, apparently picturesque from the perspective of the many surrounding pangas of whale watchers. We soon became the subject of the sated whale watchers’ cameras. We were pretty pleased with ourselves, and super excited by our brush with the behemoths.




We anchored in Man-o-War cove off of Puerta Magdalena, and met up the following day with Mark and Michelle of s/v Cheers, who had offered to procure fresh produce for us. They are Captain and head naturalist of m/v Sea Lion, a cruiseship sponsored by the National Geographic Society. They were gunkholing in Baja, on a vacation cruise of their own, and got a hefty supply of the fresh stuff from the cooks aboard the Sea Lion. No scurvy in our futures!

The highlight was a hike across the dunes that separate two large bays (Santa Maria and Magdalena), and a long stroll on one of the longest, remotest beach I’ve been so lucky to encounter. It’s about 10 miles long, and inhabited by no one. We were the only people on the beach as far as we could tell. The beach is nicknamed sand dollar (or Frisbee) beach, as it’s littered with sand dollars as large as an outstretched hand. It could also have been named Skeleton beach, for all the sea lion and dolphin bones scattered about. We even found a pile of sun-baked rays (or skates?). Other gems: vulture feeding on a sea lion carcass, blow spouts of more whales just off shore, tracks in the sand, beautiful shells, quaint little succulents sprouting out of the sand…. I could have stayed all day, but Ben dragged me back across the dunes, and finally we rowed back to the boat for a late lunch.

The following morning we left Magdalena Bay. Curiously, an octopus tried to hitch a ride, but finally agreed to let go of our anchor and inked along his merry way. We passed right back out the Bay’s entrance, and right back through the same pod of horny whales. The closest sighting was ~75 yards from the boat, and again we had to jockey around the whale watchers on our way out. A few hours later we were sailing at a nice clip, and were lucky to be visited by 3 Common dolphins. They swam at the bow for a good while, happy enough to accommodate our photo-snapping frenzy.

The wind blew for awhile, but petered out by late evening, so we motor-sailed the rest of the way to Cabo San Lucas. In the middle of the night we had one momentous event, crossing the Tropic of Cancer (i.e. latitude 23 degrees, 25 minutes north)! With this crossing, I can definitively say, this is the point at which it has now become hot. And it will only get hotter still…. With dawn we skirted around the edge of a shallow bank off the coast (ie, where fish like to hang), and counted 28 sport-fishing boats in one tight wad. We made landfall in Cabo mid-day on February 19th. The landscape really is breathtaking, so it’s hard to deny what no doubt has been a pressing urge to develop up to the eyeballs. The rocks are cool on the way in, the sand beaches stretch on forever, and the terrain is rugged. We really had to elbow our way in to the harbor, jockeying for space with ferries, pangas, sport-fishing boats, cruiseships, parasailors, one sea turtle, bazillions of juvenile pelicans, and jet skies galore. We stopped in long enough to fuel up, and turned around and left, bound for more tranquil territory.

Now for more wildlife encounters. A shark (only evidenced by its dorsal fin) and, shortly thereafter, some other creatures that we never could put our fingers on. Basically, two largish pectoral fins of something (dark on one surface, silvery on the other) would protrude a good foot or two above the water’s surface, without any clue to what these were attached. It seemed this would only be possible if the animal were floating on its back. It would just float on by, as if sleeping. Apparently sword fish sleep on the surface… Maybe it’s some big game fish? Marlin? Could it be a large sea turtle? But upside down? Or maybe a sea lion, lollygagging? Seriously, you’d think a veterinarian might at the least be able to differentiate between a fish, a mammal and a reptile, right? Anyway, whatever they were, there were a lot of them – somewhere between 1 and 2 dozen! About an hour later Ben and I were both below decks, lollygagging as well. Suddenly there was a thump, and there sat a juvenile pelican, at the bottom of the steps, startled by himself, but obviously more hungry than startled, because then he gaped. Then he thought better of it, and started to back up. He stumbled into our main cabin (bedroom), and when he couldn’t back up any further, he tried to climb up onto our bed. So, I grabbed Ben’s fleece (note, not my own), and used it to pick him up. With some staggering and tripping about, I carried him up on deck, and with a little more ado, he finally plopped back into the water, and didn’t even seem too offended by the whole affair. Anyway, a friend of his was waiting for him. It wasn’t until about 20 minutes later that I realized that he and his friend were following us. The pelicans around here are accustomed to fish entrails and bycatch, thrown off the fishing boats. I felt bad we didn’t have fish guts to offer, but was also bothered by my conscience about the whole affair. Do I hunt for some canned tuna to make both of us feel better? O do I abide the naturalist’s lecture: “don’t feed the wildlife.” While I struggled with this he threw up his wings and flew off.

So that leaves us…still en route to La Paz. And, bound for a second trip across the Tropic of Cancer, as we head north up the Sea of Cortez side of Baja. We’ll be there shortly, with plans to stay there, and at nearby islands, for several days before we head back south.

I hope all is well in love, life and work!

PS- We have moved accompanying slideshows to Pangaea's photo album link at the top right of the screen. Go there for more pics from Magdalena Bay to La Paz.

Bienvenidos a Bahia Tortugas!

We arrived in Turtle Bay, about half way down the Pacific coast of Baja, after a two-day motor-sail from Ensenada. Not much wind to speak of; just enough to top up our engine’s capacity, but we made on average 6 knots an hour. We stayed within 20 miles of the coast, and enjoyed the view. We saw blow spouts at a couple points along the way, belying the massive gray whale hulks below the surface, coming up for air. Dolphins joined our bow wave for a ride, and pelicans were on the hunt, headfirst.

Moon set was a bewitching sight. A narrow, smiling sliver of a crescent moon set around 10 pm, turning orange before slipping below the horizon. And then the stars shone in a pretty raucous display; it’s almost dizzying. On the first early morning watch (starting at 5 am), after some time watching stars I came below to check our position. I popped my head back up top for a glance (about 4 minutes later), and we were nearly engulfed in fog. Fade to gray. The fog stuck around for 6 hours, and then mercifully lifted just like it had settled. Luckily no objects had loomed abruptly in our path in the meantime.

We made a daytime arrival to Turtle Bay, miracle of all miracles, and dropped anchor in about 30 feet of water. This little dusty port town (Puerto San Bartolome) is surrounded by stark, but architectural mountains of nuanced shades of pink to brown to gray. Dust is pretty monochromatic when you look at it up close, so the splashes of brilliant color peeling off dilapidated structures about town is a real joy. The people are warm and kind. We like it so much we’ve decided to stay a few days in all. Yesterday afternoon was spent visiting with a fellow cruiser that we met in Ensenada, Wayne on “Moonduster,” trekking through town to find tacos (no problem) and an internet café. We rode our dinghy ashore, elbowing our way to the pier through a throng of pelicans, who seem pretty unimpressed. Dinner was a potluck on “Moonduster” with Wayne, and joined by other cruisers Mark and Michelle on “Cheers.”

Today some chores. Ben’s finishing up the watermaker, and needs to dive on the propeller to dislodge what we suspect to be a nice fist-full of kelp. I will be cleaning, just like a good swabee. Hopefully this afternoon we’ll have time to explore the shores in our dinghy. It appears there’s some good beachcombing to be had.

What next? I think we’ll leave tomorrow, next stop Magdalena Bay. We’ve been hearing beautiful things about our next destination. The weather reports give us no wind to speak of for the next week, so we’ll motor our way south once again.

Stay tuned!

Ciao!

So, everyone has heard this: we're leaving next Monday, I mean Thursday, make that the following Tuesday...Christmas, New Years Eve, Birthday....sometime next week....and so on. Can we say: circumstances conspired? And now we're tapping our feet, waiting for the weather to look "typical Southern California." These days it has been one storm after the next, with landslide warnings inland, and gale warnings at sea. In contrast, Baja has seen calm weather, ie no wind. But, if the weather forecast is correct, we're there!! Tonight, in the wee hours, we're saying our farewells in San Diego.

We're timing our departure for a daytime arrival in Ensenada, Mexico, and we'll stay there a day or two to check in to the country. From there on out we're officially cruising! By now we have left ourselvs ~ 1 month in Mexico - not what we had planned but it will suffice. We'll hop down Baja, but won't have much time to explore the Sea of Cortez on the opposite coast of Baja. That's a shame, as it's famously pristine and teeming with marine life. Another day....

Puerto Vallarta will be a home base for awhile, then on to Acapulco, maybe Zihuatenejo just north of there. We aim to leave that coast ~ March 1st for a bee-line to the Galapagos! What a dream come true for any student of biology. Finches, giant tortoises and marine iguanas await. A recent book I read explains that, it isn't what's unique about the Galapagos that is so intriguing, but rather the way in which it so typifies the story of evolution. The process of evolution is somehow amplified on island groups, leading to vast speciation, but also suffering high rates of extinction. Regardless, it gives me goose bumps in anticipation. And the wildlife just go about their business.

We have been sifting through tips, warnings and recommendations from other on-line cruisers about obtaining proper permits for the Galapagos. It appears Ecuador changes its mind twice a year. This has left a meddled confusion, but this we will need to get used to - customs and immigration beauracracies add a little spice to the experience (and the US is no exception as any of our foreign friends would report).

The trip to the Galapagos is ~ 1200 nautical miles (as the crow flies), which we expect to take ~ 10 days. But, we're at the weather's mercy so, we get there when we get there..... We'll request a 2-week permit which should allow us time in two ports, on two different islands in the archipelago. We'll join naturalist-guided tours to explore the islands in more detail than we can from our boat. Lots of opportunities exist, like hiking, swimming with sea turtles, visiting tortoise breeding centers, spelunking, diving and snorkeling. My dad and step-mom Kristin will join us for our last week there, and will stay to accompany us on the next, and longest, passage, from the Galapagos to the Marquesas in French Polynesia. That's about 3400 miles, and roughly 3 weeks at sea. That's when the island hopping begins! The rest of the spring and summer (oops....fall and winter) we'll hop from the Marquesas (+/- Tuamotus), Society Islands, Cook Islands, Kingdom of Tonga and Fiji. We'll point our bow toward the North Island of New Zealand by October of 2008 and we'll wait out the Christmas and New Year holidays there. What then? You'll just have to tune in and see...... But, really, if any of you might like a little tropical adventure, send us an email and we'll get the details worked out. We would love to have visitors!

I'm sure you will all rest easy in knowing that Ben and I watched a reality survival show from a tropical island on the Discovery Channel, so we now know how to open coconuts on the beach without the benefit of a tool. And, the oils make a good sun block! We may need a little work honing our spear-fishing skills though.

Peruse through this latest set of photos of our now fully put-together sailing vessel. It has taken us awhile to get here, but look at what has been accomplished! Ben has done such an amazing job installing and wiring pretty complex systems (every last one of them!) and even completed construction of the refrigeration box with his new and handy fiberglassing skills. You'll notice we've got food crammed in every nook and cranny. Enjoy the tour.....

....and, please, keep in touch! (updates, chit chat and gossip are welcome. You don't want us to go stir-crazy with only each other for company, do you?)

Westward Ho!!

Life in San Diego

San Diego has been our short-(er, long-)term stop-off and stomping ground through the fall. We left San Diego mid-September after getting Pangaea settled at Harbor Island West Marina and flew back to Seattle to get our affairs in order for our longer departure to come. We moved out of our rental house, stowed our stuff in storage, farmed out our pets to unwitting friends and family members, and spent precious time visiting all before saying our farewells. Ben had an interview with Customs and Immigration and passed with flying red, white and blue colors. In celebration of his new citizenship, we taught him the secret handshake and made him recite the Pledge of Allegiance (feeding him the lines, of course).

Mid-October we drove Ben's truck south to San Diego, visiting Natasha's family in Newport, and Mary's in Eugene, OR en route. It was fun to see the new additions (Benjamin and Iris), checkout Natasha's and Charles' newly acquired veterinary hospital, and tour Mary's and Ryan's new home and property. How cool! Our truck was loaded to the hilt and our shocks were toast so we gas-guzzled and bounced our way south.

So, now here were are! We have been splitting our time between life aboard on the boat, and late nights and sleep-overs at Kristi's and Lili's place in Crest, in the hills of east San Diego County. Fun times: visiting with my mom on her week-long visit; late-night chats with Kristi and Lili, soaking in Kristi's new jacuzzi on a deck overlooking a canyon, with a view to sunset and stars; side-trip to Mazatlan to see vet school friends; cavorting with dogs; decorating and landscaping with Lili, harvesting; crossing items off our list of things to do. Less fun times: sanding; varnishing; window-mounting; toilet installation; evacuating Kristi's home from California's fires of the century; getting the truck towed; getting the truck towed a second time; making lists of things to do.



Sadly we lost Wolf to his 2-year battle with cancer in November. He had accompanied us on our drive to California, and settled quickly into life on a sailboat. We knew his time was near, so we cherished every moment we could have with him and, when he was no longer comfortable, we let him go. He rests now at the foot of a boulder at Kristi's and Lili's place, overlooking the canyon. We were lucky to have him in our lives. We love you Wolf!



Now we're heading into crunch time, madly dashing about to finish boat-related projects, arrange our affairs and plan for destinations ahead. Christmas is soon to come, and go. And with the approaching New Year, we'll be off....!!!!!

Special thanks to Kristi and Lili for support, companionship, sleeping accomodations and creative inspiration.

Love to all of you!

Side-trip Reunion in Mazatlan

In October I met up with vet school friends Jeanie, Kristi and Heather in Mazatlan for a week of long-overdue catching up. We stayed in a time-share resort but escaped its confines for fun in Mazatlan's center, primarily walking, talking, tequila-shotting, shopping, iguana-watching, music-sharing, beach-combing and exploring. The trip coincided with Mexico's Dia de los Muertes (Day of the Dead), so naturally we made toasts to the deceased.





Mexico was as warm and friendly as ever. We met some gracious locals, one of whom, "Jesse James," invited us to his home and directed us to his favorite beach-side restaurant (Lety's) for a day trip to Stone Island. On the Day of the Dead we followed a parade to an altar made in memory of Frida Kahlo, and then visited the city's museum of art to view a special exhibit for the occasion. The night before, Halloween, we had drinks in the old town plaza and watched trick-or-treaters in search of sweets.

The highlight of the trip? Late nights of chatting, sharing, debating and gossipping (often sprinkled with a little Pictionary). It's so good to see friends.....!

Where (and when) is here?

So, phase 1 of our journey began Thursday, August 30, 2007, at 10:30 pm. After the summer's frenetic preparations, and with the much-appreciated assistance of friends and family, we were finally set to sail. We took on our crew, friend Victor Lavergne, and aweighed our anchor, leaving Elliott Bay Marina in Seattle, bound for Port Townsend. We stopped in PT for 8 hours or so to wait out a gale blowing in the Straits of Juan de Fuca, then continued on our merry way.

We bade farewell to Washington's Cape Flattery in the dawn light of September 1st, and made a bee-line (in zig-zag fashion) off shore. We avoided fishermen and tankers, and made our first gray whale sighting along the way. Heading south along the Pacific coast one is usually accompanied with favorable following winds. And yet, we weren't. We beat upwind through two fronts passing overhead, making the trek down through Oregon and northern California a bumpy one. Oh well, baptism by fire. And this was a first for Victor!

On Sunday Victor made good use of the fishing gear he had brought along. We towed the line for awhile under motor, with no bites. But moments after resetting the line once under sail, we hit pay dirt! A beautiful and unwitting albacore tuna had taken the bait. And there was more where that came from. We sailed through a school of tuna for awhile, spotting jumping fish off and on through the day. I was alternately jumping for joy, and crying for the tuna's inevitable end. Anyway, we ate well.

The next day we were pleased to see northwesterlies, giving us some lovely downwind sailing. We poled out the jib top and made good time. By nightfall, (oops) too much sail area for the mounting winds and seas caused us some grief. We were thankful to have Victor's help. After a bit of unwanted excitement wrestling the pole and jib down, we were doused and panting. And it wasn't over, as we had yet to reef the main. Ben volunteered to take the helm....all night long....and into the following afternoon. Once day broke we could finally appreciate what the seas around us looked like, that is, tall. It's hard to tell when you're in it, but we estimate the waves at ~ 20 feet. Man, we were hauling ass, with peak speeds ~ 18 knots, surfing down the waves under a double-reefed main. Needless to say Victor and I were only too glad to leave the helm to Ben. And, sleep-deprived or not, Ben was glowing with glee.

On Tuesday night we finally started our approach to San Francisco Bay. We were surprised how un-crowded it was wending or way in through shipping lanes. Easy as pie. By now we were motoring once again - wind is fickle. We passed through the Golden Gate Wednesday the 5th at 8 am, as dawn was breaking. How cool is that! We were ready to crash, shower, and eat hot food. Oh yeah, and find a functional toilet, as ours had bitten the dust days before. Ode to the bucket - and let's leave it at that.

We parted ways with Victor (thanks for your help Victor!!), and met up with our incoming crew - John Fiddler. We needed a couple days to clean, restock and recupe, but we finally set sail once again on Saturday, September 8. We tacked our away around obstacles solid, darting and unyielding. It was a brief blast of excitement on our way out of the City by the Bay, soon to be met with winds clocking in at ~ 0 knots. So, we shifted into slow mode, twiddled our thumbs and motored. Fiddler, our poor adrenaline junky was running low on adrenaline.

Luckily were were graced with the wonder of wildlife. A whale (gray?) gave us a show with some breaching and tail-slapping. (Does anyone know what this means?) I don't know if he was feeling randy or, rather, agitated. Whichever may be the case, he was expressive to say the least. We passed through a few expansive smacks of jellyfish (we've recently learned this is an ominous sequela to global warming that other sea life aren't excited about), leaping seals, sea lions, otters and birds. Watching dolphins dart through the waves at night, aglow with phosphorescence, is a sight to behold.

Of course, no wind = motoring = fuel. So, our journey south was interrupted by fuel stops. The first attempt was made at San Luis Obispo. Unfortunately we made landfall at night (as per usual) and were directed to a floating dock adjacent to the fuel dock until morning. We had no easy way to get off the boat without swimming, so instead we waited out the night with a serenading gang of randy sea lions nearby (like, 10 yards near). Come morning, San Luis Obispo lay quiet with an electrical black out, so fuel was a no-go. We left with Santa Barbara on our minds. Finally, nearing Cape Arguello, we found wind. We navigated around oil derricks (under an ever-watchful eye), groped through fog, cavorted with more whales, and arrived in Santa Barbara that night (yes, again at night). Fid left us the next day, to visit a friend and ensure he wouldn't miss his ride (ie, plane) back to Seattle.

Well, Ben and I found ourselves, for the first time, alone. We had just a short bit to go, from Santa Barbara to San Diego, our destination. This was a good test of our ability to handle the boat on our own, and we got plenty of practice as we encountered a little bit of everything in the way of wind and weather. We were pleased with ourselves in the way of performance and, besides that, we had such a good time. We cruised in to San Diego early morning on September 12th and celebrated our accomplishment with a toast!

How did we get here?

Ben and I began scheming our exit strategy back in 2003, shortly after I started ER veterinary work at Animal Emergency and Referral Center (now VCA Veterinary Specialty Center). Funny how hard work gets you thinking about vacation (insert tropical backdrop). So, we hunkered down to pay down debt, buy a boat, and grow a nest egg to sustain us once unemployed.


After a year's search, we came across our Ross 40, built in 1987 in New Zealand. With only two of these on the west coast, we found ourselves on a plane to LA to check her out in September 2004. She's a roomy racer-cruiser, but had only been used to race until now. She was seaworthy and well maintained but spare in the way of live-aboard amenities. We took her out for a test sail, and we were smitten.

The past 3 years have seen us scraping our knuckles, bruising our knees, bumping our heads, sustaining small lacerations, bickering, nagging, and getting married (not to mention getting washed aground when our anchor gave way). And yet, here we are - almost done getting Pangaea ship-shape for our needs, and almost ready to shove off for tropical destinations. Southward ho!