Whale Whiskers

Posted on by

 

We made it to Santa Rosalia from Isla San Pedro Martir in one long and tiring day. After a pretty fabulous fast downwind sail where we saw speeds pushing 8 knots (under two reefed sails, mind you), we rode out quite a nasty blow with rain and wicked seas as we passed Punta Virgenes. The wind had died (the old calm before the storm trick, don’t you know…), and we had put the sails away as we motored the last leg of the trip under an ominously dark cloud. No sails turned out to be a very good thing because when that storm cloud threw its stuff at us, even under bare poles Galapagos lay down on her side in the dramatic gusts more than we care for. I think she was tired. I know I sure was.  I tell you this: it sure is good to know and trust your boat in those conditions. As the last of the storm blew out, and the last of the daylight disappeared behind the hills, we slid into the marina at Santa Rosalia and threw our lines to the outstretched arms of the welcome committee on the docks there, safe at last and ready for a good night’s sleep.

Who’s that looking at you? There is definitely somebody ‘home’ here.

We had pulled in several days early due to the coming strong north wind that was predicted. When it developed, it came with a vengence. Docks were rocking and rolling, waves were cresting and foaming inside the marina enclosure, and we lost one of our 3/4” stern lines, which was protected by firehose, to chafing lickety split. It happened so fast! To say that we were grateful to be in a marina for that wind event would be a decided understatement because the alternative would have been pretty bad. As we prepare to leave the Sea of Cortez, memories of the remarkably forceful wave patterns are firmly etched in our minds forever. For two days the winds did their work and we felt that leaving the boat, even in the marina, would be risky. So we were dead pleased when the winds died down before we packed up our backpacks and hopped on the bus to Guererro Negro; off to see the grey whales in Laguna Ojo de Liebre (Eye of Hare or Jackrabbit)  on the Pacific Side of the Baja Peninsula.

The whale lagoon.

There are many places on the Pacific side of the Baja to go see the annual migration of grey whales. On our sail down the coast we stopped in at Bahia Ballena and anchored to watch the greys coming and going into Laguna San Ignacio. Choosing which place to go and who to hire as a guide can be challenging. After falling down the research rabbit hole, I decided to go with Whale Magic tours in Guererro Negro, run by Shari Bondi. Shari is a transplanted Canadian who has been studying the greys for decades. She has lived near this lagoon since 1988 and has rich and deep knowledge of their history here, as well as knowing many of the whales individually. If you want to go see the whales with her outfit, contact us and we can share planning details that may help you out.

Over the decades they’ve been safe in these waters, the whales have learned to trust people and now many of them will come and visit boats and allow you to touch them. This is literally the only place in the world where you can have this kind of close encounter with grey whales because it’s not like out in the open ocean they have learned to approach boats for kisses. Here in the lagoon, though, they actually seem to enjoy it and when whale waters are lucky, the whales actively approach the boats and eye the humans aboard. Shari says we are their entertainment, and who am I to question that? It sure seems that way.

In my happy place.

Mike is giving this whale all the love.

We enjoyed two perfect whale watching days. It was partly sunny, the water was calm, and only a few other boats were out on the lagoon. We motored slowly out to the viewing area, very close to the whale camp actually, and soon were surrounded by whales. The first couple was a mother and a baby, and I was thrilled because Shari said there were not that many of them this year bringing babies up to visit because food was scarce last year and many had lost babies on the route south this year. This baby got close and spyhopped next to the boat, showing off its baleen grin. But momma whale was not interested in a prolonged visit and scooted the baby away. Still, it was my first up close view of a baby whale. And I wish I had a photo of that baleen grin! So cute!

Very soon we had an adult visitor. She lolled around next to the boat, going to the stern first to let Shari pet her. I swear that these whales know Shari. She says they like the vibration of the engine in neutral, that it attracts them like a massage. But I think differently. They go to her first. She reaches her arms out to them and they come over like large, crusty lap dogs. After getting the snugs from Shari, then it’s everyone else’s turn. The whale lies alongside the boat and we all reach our arms way over the side trying to make contact. Soon we are giving the whale all the love. Grown men with US Marine Corp caps are teary eyed with wonder at these gentle leviathans. “Look at that! Can you believe this? Oh my god! Rachel, did you get a chance to touch her? Come over here and pet her! It’s amazing! Look into her eye! She’s looking right at me! Hey, I think she likes me!”

She’s looking right at me!

We get maybe 15 minutes of stroking, petting, and baby talking this whale, complimenting it on its stunning array of barnacles and sea lice, and then it slips away to the sound of our collective sigh of regret.

Our sadness is short lived, however, as two more approach us and soon all our arms are out, torsos hanging over the water to reach further down, camera clicking and more exclamations of amazement. We are enchanted, in love with the very notion of encountering wild animals with this much trust in humanity.  We discover whales have whiskers! Did you know that?  They have stiff bristly hairs every few inches, vestiges of land life maybe? Do these whiskers allow the whales to feel vibrations in the water? Are these whiskers with a purpose? Only Google knows and we are too busy falling under the spell of the whales to care.

Whale breath. It does not stink in this lagoon.

To pet face of a whale. Brilliant.

And here’s another thing: whale breath. Have you ever smelled it? Because as a rule it stinks of rotten fish. Every time we’ve been near whales of any kind in the past, you can smell them even if you can’t see them. But that’s not the case here in the lagoon because the whales here are not actively feeding. They are mating, calving, nursing, training up their babies for the long swim back to colder waters, but they are not feeding much. So their breath does not stink! We got right over those blowholes and were actively sprayed many times. But never smelled anything.

I feel like we got very lucky our first day out. Shari said it was the best day with whale contact in weeks. Our second day we had two whale visitors who stayed by the boat to receive our touches and blow into our expectant faces. We saw  a number of mother/baby pairs and had exuberant whales jumping and spy hopping, eyeing the boat. We even saw a baby practicing breaching. But it was a day for watching animal behavior, less so for interacting with them. In spite of their lack of fear of human beings, they are, after all, wild animals and will do as they please. Who can know how they decide which days are days to be personal with human beings? All I know is I could have stayed out there all day in communion with these surprisingly peaceful beings.

You know Mike videotaped me hanging over the edge of the boat so here you go: [embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2QRBSijLyVQ[/embedyt]

Lots of breeching for joy and spyhopping to check out boats.

One more checkmark on the bucket list: We have petted whales in person and have found them to be rubbery, crusty with barnacles, and disquietingly sentient. My one regret: my lips never found purchase with a whale’s flesh. I tried, Lord knows I tried. And I came only a whale’s whisker away from planting one on my scar-faced friend who returned to me more than once to receive adoration. But it was not to be. I was asked repeatedly to please not fall into the water from the panga so, unwillingly, I gave it up.

So close!! If only my lips had been longer.

A bonus for us was these lovely Cannonball Jellyfish that were everywhere. As the whales would rise up to the surface, the aptly named Cannonball Jellies would roll down into the water. I thought the color of these was incredibly rich. They have no sting, by the way. We were able to pick them up and examine them closely.

Cannonball Jellyfish on whale.

With a whale in the distance.

And some Eel Grass floating around.

While Guerrero Negro has precious little to offer in terms of the town, if you go to see the whales there don’t miss the opportunity to drive out to see the bird sanctuary at the edge of town. It’s worth a long slow drive through the protected marshlands looking at the many species of water birds, including several species of ducks we had never seen before.

We are back aboard in Santa Rosalia and ready to head south.

S/V Galapagos, standing by on channel 22.

Extra bonus photos of the marshlands and a couple of cool birds.

These vistas, though.

Osprey with an unfortunate fish.

Reddish Egret

 

Entourage

Posted on by

“Whoa! Look behind you!”, I yelled at Mike, who was at the helm of our little Portland Pudgy dinghy. “We’ve got company and they’re here to party!”

[embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UbXJldeaDfY[/embedyt]

Snugly anchored at the base of the big cliffs of Isla San Pedro Martir, smack in the middle of the Sea of Cortez, we finally feel like Crusing Season 2020 has begun. It seems like it took forever to reach escape velocity from San Carlos.  Sure, we were having grand fun with friends who currently live there. We will miss our friends. But, I mean, we are here to cruise by boat. We had to go. The weather offered us just enough time to thread the needle between north wind blows and we chose to take the opportunity. Destination: this wild island of birds and sea lions in the middle of nowhere, close to nothing. Just the way we like it.

Isla San Pedro Martir, wind and seas

We took a chance coming to visit this island this time of year. Being this far from anywhere between predicted north wind blows is always risky. You have to be prepared to take weather that is worse than predicted. And to be clear, had the blows been predicted to be much higher, we would not have come. We had a ‘plan B’ if we had to bail if the weather reports didn’t hold up and our next destination, Santa Rosalia, is downwind from here. If conditions at this island were untenable or completely unsafe, we’d just have a really fast downwind sail.

Weather patterns during the winter here are, in a word, dynamic. They change rapidly and predictions more than a day in advance may not hold true. That happens on the regular in the winter in the Sea of Cortez and it’s almost a certainty that winds that develop will be higher than predicted, with the accompanying higher-than-predicted seas. That’s happened so often that we just count on it now and if it doesn’t come to pass, well good then. Two years ago you couldn’t have paid me to take this chance. I would have felt like it was too risky; the potential pay off not worth what I was sure was going to be hours of “I hate this why am I here what is wrong with me that I would agree to this?”. Two and a half years into this cruising thing and my tolerance for discomfort has gone way up. It was a no brainer this year. Yeah, the last two hours were not that much fun, but it was a small price to pay.  So here we are.

I’ve never seen a rock full of sea mammals that didn’t make me grin. Those faces!

Dinghy splashed and engined-up, we set out to explore the shoreline in the lee of the island. You are not allowed to go ashore on this protected island, but no one says you cannot explore by dinghy. The winds were building as expected, but we had enough protection on this southeast side to get off the boat and have a visit up close and personal with the local wildlife. Honestly, for us, it doesn’t get much better than this. And in this place, the residents are as curious about us as we were about them. As soon as we dropped anchor a curious little sea lion came over to say howdy.

Soon we had a following as we motored around. First a few sea lions came along side, spy hopping and splashing as they checked us out. Then more and more joined the party until we had an entire congregation jumping and diving, showing off their watery skills as they raced the dinghy from one area to the next. Honestly, I think they were just playing with us. When Mike turned the engine off, they completely lost interest. But once we started moving again, there they were torpedoing through the clear water, splashing us with their leaps, eyeballing us with those big, watery eyes. The last time we had been surrounded by playful sea lions was at San Miguel Island in California, still a highlight of this trip.

We got so many underwater shots of the sea lions that it almost made up for the fact that the water was 59F and there was no way we were getting in!

We got two days of soul filling sea lions, Blue Footed and Brown Boobies, Tropic Birds, thousands of little Grebes and stunning scenery.  Now we are primed and ready for more.

Here are more photos. Honestly, we have so many it’s hard to choose which ones to post. Be sure to scroll to the end for a special treat.

Just showing off.

Don’t make me get off this rock and defend my women!

The supper club. These guys and their loud voices!

Who’s pretty?

All the pelicans are dressed up in their party clothes right now.

And now, for your edification, the soothing renditions of a pre-dawn Sea Lions and assorted birds meditation.

[embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AJ8R6ARqABI[/embedyt]

And here’s one that shows the anchorage and why their voices are so very loud! [embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVdgjPFLDtY[/embedyt]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Big Big Plans

Posted on by

Here we are again: at anchor in San Carlos, ready to rumble but the weather is giving us no love. We splashed Galapagos bright and early, taking advantage of a two hour window of calm before the next blow came through.ast night, on the hard in the boatyard, we shivered under comforters and blankets, nothing but our noses open to the air, as the boat shuddered on its stands in the wind.

We’re in Mexico. We don’t have our diesel heater ‘ready to go’, as it were, but it sure would not have come amiss as the temperature on the boat plumeted to 51F. This being our third season in Mexico, we’re getting a little thin skinned when it comes to cold weather. Between the unnatural shimmying and shaking of the boat in the wnd and the cold weather, it was a restless night.

Painting the bottom of the house.

Just before first light we got up to prepare for launch. I wore a tshirt, a polar fleece pullover, and a light sweatshirt with a hood on top of that. It was my very first time wearing jeans in Mexico. I held my coffee with both hands, grateful for a bit of warmth as we watched Galapagos trundle down the road on the trailer.

The water was flat calm and there was no wind as we approached the boat launch. This is always good because they launch the boat stern first, which means you have to back out of the fairway and into the main channel. It’s not far, but let me tell you this: if you never seen a full keeled sailboat try to back up in a straight line, you haven’t lived. We’ve launched here 3 times and each time it’s been a no drama event because we always schedule first thing in the morning. And because we were lucky.

This was not the case today. The calm of the water belied the currents of an outgoing tide under the surface and as Mike gave Galapagos a little reverse, just enough to get her moving slowly, the current grabbed us and soon we were almost sideways in the channel, in shallow water. There is no room to turn around in the narrow channel so he brought her up to the dock and tried again. No bueno. Meanwhile I’m running back and forth with our biggest fender hanging over the side, making sure I can fend us off, giving Mike a calm and detailed running commentary about how far off he is from the boat or dock behind us. We’ve got that swim step on the stern of the boat, and at the helm it’s tricky to know just how much room you have when you need every bit of it. (We use those Sena bluetooth headsets ALL THE TIME and will never, ever boat without them by choice.)

It’s best to always be prepared for these scenarios, even when things look like they will literally be smooth as glass. My anxious brain had worried about just this very thing so before we cast off I had that fender out and ready. I used it three times to keep our boat and others safe, dropping it down between the boat and whatever it was we might have hit without it. Three. Who says an overly active amygdala isn’t useful sometimes?

Sporting his ‘naps’ tshirt and his ‘boatyard guy’ look.

After many attempts of forward into the middle, backward too close to the dock, then forward again, we worked our way to the main channel where somehow we had turned just enough for the current to push us in the right direction and off we went, cheers all around from the guys on the dock, no harm, no foul. And now we sit here at anchor listening to the wind howl again and blocking all the ways that cold wind finds to get into the boat. It’s great to be aboard again and we have BIG plans for this season.

Last season was a turning point for us. We had spent two seasons in the Sea of Cortez and Pacific Mexico and we needed to decide what was next. This turned out to be a pretty hard decision. In a nutshell we had three choices: stay in this area for another season, go further south and across the Pacific (which was our original plan), or return to the Pacific Northwest for awhile.

Boatyard horse. Mike shared his apple.

As much as we like the Sea of Cortez, and we do like it, we feel like we are ready to move on for now. So many people leave their boats here all year, returning to their home country during the heat of the summer and coming back in the winter to enjoy the (usually) beautiful weather and the sea. We’ve met lots of cruisers who have been in the Sea of Cortez for 10-20 years. But we aren’t ready to be those people. Maybe later.

After cruising for this long we both realize that the things we love about cruising are only marginally available here in the sea due to weather and water temperature. The cool temperature of the water and the generally marginal visibility (with lucky exceptions) make snorkeling a catch as catch can endeavor, and we both really love to be in the water. We love being able to swim off our boat and not have to don wetsuits. This luxury is available for only a brief time in the Sea of Cortez unless you stay through the very hot months. By the tme the sea is warm enough to enjoy just jumping in, the daytime temperatures are beginning to really heat up. Hiking is beautiful here when you can find a trail or scramble up an arroyo. But not when the weather starts getting hot. The summers are brutal, and we just cannot tolerate them without air conditioning. It’s a beautiful place, really absolutely stunning in so many ways, but for now, after this season we are done for awhile.

Just behind the boatyard, a trail through the desert.

Pacific Mexico, while interesting with all its cool animals, just didn’t make our hearts soar. We enjoyed La Cruz a great deal, but that was mostly due to the community of cruisers there and the excitement of everyone getting ready to do the Puddle Jump. This year we’ll probably be giving that area a miss, even though we have friends who are there and we’d love to see them again.

Our second choice was to go further south and cross the Pacific. This is what we really wanted to do and we began to make plans and get excited about it. Down in La Cruz we went to many of the seminars for people doing the ‘Puddle Jump’ and we had Jamie Gifford come aboard and do a thorough inspection of our rig. As we became more educated about what was required for that kind of extended voyaging, and as we took a long hard look at our boat, we decided this wasn’t our year to cross. There are too many things we feel like the boat needs before we set off for that part of the world.

The things we need to do, like pull the mast and completely refurbish it, replace all the rigging, put in a water maker, do some interior remodeling including replacing the salon cushions, install new radar and anemometer, possibly replace a toilet, get a different dinghy and bigger engine, and a few other bits and pieces, could certainly be done here in Mexico, but it’s harder and many times much more expensive. What’s cheaper in Mexico is labor, but we do our own labor almost all the time. Sourcing things is not easy here and we no longer have a car so we’re either relying on other people or taking local transport. In addition, these things cost money; money we don’t have at the ready without dipping into our retirement savings, and that doesn’t seem prudent at our ages. I know some people claim you can live this cruising life on a wish and a prayer, but we have found that to be completely not true if you want your boat to be safe. It’s just so much easier to work on the boat back home where we will have money coming in, get it really ready, then go.

So that’s what we are going to do. Go back and work for awhile, fill the cruising kitty, get Galapagos better prepared, and then get going again. That’s our plan for now.  If you are reading between the lines and sense a little conflicted heart on my end, you read that right.     This was not an easy decision. If our kids weren’t there, I’m not sure we would have decided on this path. But when it comes right down to it, we need to put money in the kitty.

Now that hard decision has been made there is some excitement about the choice, even as we do not look forward to living on board in the Pacific Northwest winter again. Both our kids are in the Puget Sound area now, and we’re looking at staging the boat in Olympia, WA, close to our Claire and Dan. Andrew and Jill live in Tacoma now and plan to buy their their own boat and live aboard at Foss Harbor marina, where our family has kept boats for well over 10 years.  It does our hearts good to think of being available for that process. I mean, what young couple DOESN’T want mom and dad looking over their shoulders as they dive into the trenches of boat ownership? I mean, we have LOADS of unsolicited advice just waiting to spring forth from our, parental bosom!

We had Christmas this year with all of our Washington family. Claire and Dan had just moved into their house in Olympia and we had no decorations. So Mike made this fireplace mantle and we put on a Youtube fire. It was terrific. Our tree I made from wire garbage cans Claire had. Zip tied together and lit up, it was just about perfect. Cheap Dollar Store stockings completed our decor.

We also have a lot of excitement about how we are getting home! Now the real adventure begins! We are currently applying for our permit to visit the Villagigados Islands, a few hunded miles offshore from Puerto Vallarta. These remote islands are completely protected  by the Mexican Government and offer the opportunity to see some really amazing wildlife, including giant manta rays. We are dead excited to go there and spend a week or two snorkeling.

After that we will begin our trip home. Rather than doing the bash up the coast, which to be honest, I was REALLY not looking forward to (as in “How much would it cost to truck this boat home? Answer: WAY too much.) , we’ve decided to do the ‘Clipper Route’ and sail across to Hawaii, then from Hawaii to the Pacific Northwest. That’s not as long a passage as the south pacific and we feel like the boat is ready for that journey. We’re both excited to get to do a passage of this length without pulling the trigger on the south pacific yet. Actually, we are very stoked about this!

We will be hiring a professional weather router for both legs with a focus on staying comfortable while continuing to have enough wind to sail. Depending, as usual, on weather, our tentative plan is to begin the journey to Hawaii in April, spend some time in Hawaii doing whatever the boat needs for the next leg of the trip and hanging out, and then begin the journey back home in late May.

Gratuitous photo of Claire’s cat.

Until then, we still have another season in the Sea of Cortez and we are ready! We’re going to hang close to San Carlos for a few more days then head across when it looks good.  Our first scheduled stop is Santa Rosalia where we will be putting Galapagos in the marina for a week while we go do some visits with grey whales over in Guererro Negro. I am dead excited! Send us all the good joo joo for a mama whale introducing us to her baby. I might swoon, even with the inevitable whale breath. Baby whales! Oh, my heart!

S/V Galapagos, Standing by on Channel 74