Boat Time

We made it to the Sea of Cortés! And we made it on time, as planned, for one of our 2023 plans.  

The Road to Reunion

We had promised to meet family in La Cruz de Huanacaxtle in January, but weather stopped us from leaving Ensenada in time.  So, we met them by car instead of by boat.  And that was also almost foiled, but by something more human—cartel reaction to the government’s arrest of El Chapo’s son.  The cartel blocked major roadways by burning semi-trucks and other vehicles.  Some shootouts occurred between law enforcement and cartel members.  But the chaos subsided in a few days, allowing us safe passage past the still-hot skeletons of burned vehicles.  We drove that road that is now way too familiar (this made our second round-trip on it) all the way from Ensenada to La Cruz, for a week with family and some bonus friend-visits. 

The Boat’s Schedule

Our next plan was to meet friends in Loreto at the end of March.  We departed Ensenada on February 27, and we docked the boat at Marina Puerto Escondido (just outside of Loreto) on March 22, a few days before our friends’ plane touched down at Loreto International Airport.  Victory!

Of course, our goals had been to arrive a month ahead of them, to leisurely explore islands and anchorages on our way to meet them, and to limit our passages to short and easy.  But such planning is impossible on a boat.  A boat’s schedule is her own, she communicates with the sea and the wind on a whim, never writing anything down and regularly changing her dates and intentions.  In other words, one cannot devise a plan where location and date align without some sacrifice of comfort, sanity, or safety, to the boat and her accomplices, sea and wind.  And when we dare make our own plans to meet family and friends, we generally sacrifice some of each.  

Pacific Baja Round 2.0

From Ensenada, we relived the Pacific Ocean, off of Baja’s western coast, which you may recall included some harrowing experiences last time.  We can now report that, in the last two years, the Pacific Baja Ocean has not lost her vigor.  At least that is true for the early springtime, when we took both of our adventures along that coast.  

Again, we waited out weather at the mouth of San Quintín’s inner bay and in Bahía Tortuga, Bahía Asunción, and near Bahía Magdalena.  This time, our games of Mexican Train were broken up with some television time, thanks to Elon Musk (and Starlink).  Again, on the passage to Isla de Cedros, we discussed quitting this boating nonsense and moving to dry land.  Again, we arrived in the beautiful, peaceful Isla de Cedros—an oasis in the middle of Pacific Ocean wrath—and remembered why we continue this.  And, again, we carried on as best we could with the encouragement of the whales jumping up along the way.

Beautiful Baja

Our ignorance and persistence paid off with quality friend time in a beautiful place.  We explored historic sites, festive streets, dusty trails, and a couple of beer-glass bottoms.  We made it out on the water for a day sail, anchoring for lunch and a swim at a nearby island.  That sail established Mapache’s youngest-ever passenger—our friends’ 9-month-old.  He seemed to share my thought on life jacket comfort—there is none.   And he seemed to approve of the boat and to succumb to the Sea’s charm. 

2.0 in Review

Having completed the 940-mile passage from Ensenada to Loreto, we now feel we have logged sufficient time on the boat to provide a realistic assessment of the 2.0 version of Mapache.  Her spaciousness inside and out brings a comfort that Rob and I need.  We are people who desire space.  We dislike confinement, no matter how much safety it brings.  I suppose that isn’t surprising given our life choices.  Her design lends to sailing in light winds, and to speed in anything more than light winds.  On this trip, unlike our trip down Pacific Baja on the original Mapache, we rarely ran the engine.  We sailed (not motor-sailed, but really sailed) most of the time, and we made better time.  The absence of engine noise was a relief from a stress we had not wholly appreciated.  But the friskiness of Mapache 2.0 translates into a lot more movement.  Steering her requires a sensitivity that Rob has developed, but I have yet to master.  Activities in the cabin while underway, including cooking, require more balance and awareness.  And her heels (leans) have more flair.  Despite my best efforts to secure our belongings, books, cookware, and a laptop found their way to the floor.  

The grass is never just greener, it is different with its own pros and cons.  To us, change is the most important part of moving pastures.  And we are learning to love our 2.0 selves.  We are also trying to abide by the boat’s schedule, which really means not having one.  We are learning to take her advice to live in the moments, and to go where the sea and wind take us.