We departed Santa Barista and headed north to an anchorage known as Bahia El Gato or El Toro, depending on which bay you ended up in. Once we dropped anchor we looked up to take in the beautiful landscape. And just like one of the reviews had described, it was just like Zion National Park. There were both white sandy beaches as well as deep red rock formations that looked like lava flows. We immediately took off in the dinghy to explore the area and scope out potential spots for snorkeling. We walked along the northernmost beach, known as El Gato, and climbed up the red rock faces overlooking the bay to savor the stunning view.
That evening a local fisherman came by to see if we would like to pre-order any fish and asked if we had any Coca-Cola to spare. Having been surviving off processed meats for some time now, fresh fish sounded delicious and we promised to pick one from anything he could catch that night. But unfortunately, the only Coca-Cola we had was half consumed and flat. As promised, the next morning he came by with three fish to choose from and we selected the parrotfish, for no other reason than not being able to understand what the other fish were. Luckily, the only cookbook we had onboard happened to have a recipe for parrotfish. We cooked the fish on the grill according to the recipe and it turned out excellent.
We enjoyed our only full day at the anchorage by taking a walk to explore some of the local scenery. We were happy that, aside from the solo fisherman, the only other beings around seemed to be a local herd of cows, which carved out plenty of walking trails for us as long as we managed to avoid their cow patties. By the evening, a motor yacht and handful of sailboats made their way into the anchorage and our solitude was lost
The next morning, we took off to the next anchorage called Punta San Telmo, which was supposed to be excellent for snorkeling. We tried to snorkel but the cold water made for a short dive and we headed back to the boat to warm up and wash gear. Eitan spotted a pod of dolphins cruising by and told me to get in a dinghy but not to bother with the snorkeling gear since these guys weren’t likely to stick around. We pulled up to find the slowest moving pod of dolphins and we vowed to keep extra snorkel gear in the dinghy from now on. In the days to come, we came upon several similar slow-moving pods of dolphins which seemed to be comprised of many family units, the largest individuals approaching the dinghy to make sure we kept our distance from the babies, which we could see hop out from time to time. We decided to keep our distance and enjoy them pass the dinghy as we sat with the motor off.
That evening the wind died down and I dusted off the paddleboard to cruise around the bay. With the beautiful scenery and excellent water visibility, I paddled back to the boat and asked Eitan to see if he could get a few drone shots of me on the paddleboard. He rolled his eyes but obliged and I headed back out, soon hearing the buzz of the drone and squawks of annoyed seagulls. After about 30 minutes, I knew the batteries must be getting low and started paddling back in case Eitan needed help landing the drone. His head was poking out of the bimini yelling that the drone went down. My phone had died just as the seagulls were making their attacking and our beloved drone was knocked from the air and had fallen to a watery grave. We tried searching for some time but were unable to locate it since it was about the same color as the underlying sandy bottom. Luckily, the program saved some of the content onto my phone, but it was another reminder to always backup data. RIP drone, we’ll miss you!
