We spent a few nights anchored in Cabo amongst the other sailboats and superyachts. To be honest, I’m not really sure how many nights and realize it’s easy to lose track of time with this lifestyle. I find it almost impossible to remember the days of the week and find it such a contrast to my life only a few months ago. I used to pride myself on my time management and had every 30 minutes of my day scheduled, even down to eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Now, I find the sun is the biggest schedule driver. The sun sets around 6 pm which triggers the preparation of dinner and we are normally all in bed by 8 pm. Then after 12 hours of sleep, we rise as the sun starts to shine through the cabin windows.
In some ways, I feel like staying on a boat at anchor in a city kind of robs you of the tourist experience. Instead of exploring the different restaurants and attractions, our valuable time is spent provisioning the boat, cleaning, looking for boat parts, and catching up with friends and family as we take advantage of the full cell service. Each schedule needs to be coordinated since there is only one ride to and from the town on the dingy. Given the current pandemic situation, we are also lucky in some ways to live so isolated and this isn’t the best time to see any city anyway. Although most of our time in Cabo was spent doing boat stuff, we did take some time to enjoy the local beaches and snorkeling. During this time, we made friends with a neighboring boat called SV Solamar, a Hans Christian monohull with four people aboard in their late 20s/early 30s. They plan to do the Pacific Loop and maybe crossing the Pacific Ocean in a few months with us.
We headed out of Cabo to a smaller neighboring city called San Jose del Cabo, a 3-hour sail to the east. On our way, we discovered the refrigerator and freezer stopped working which was especially inconvenient since we had just provisioned and were stocked with food that needed to be kept cold. Once we got to the marina in San Jose, we also discovered the slip they assigned had no working shore power and we sat having to run the engine as Eitan diagnosed the problems with the freezer. I also forgot to mention the windlass (the motor used to raise and lower the anchor) also broke in the downward direction. This was quite fortunate considering raising the chain is the hard part. So, I added the freezer and windlass to my mental list of broken things to try not to stress about. The marina did have some nice hot showers and I thoroughly enjoyed washing my hair without having to conserve water.
The following day we set out for Los Frailes, a marine preserve in the Sea of Cortez. Upwind sailing for the first time, we quickly understood the term “Baja Bash” as the boat began taking some waves over the bow. Contrary to the wind prediction of 10 knots, we were experiencing a sustained 20 knots with gusts even higher. Several times, our paddled boards strapped to the front of the boat were almost launched off. We had closed all the windows and hatches before leaving the dock but when Connor went to grab something from the forward cabin he discovered water coming through a forward hatch with a bad seal as waves broke over the bow. Rather than continue an unpleasant journey, Eitan decided to return to the marina and repair the leaks. Once back at San Jose we assessed the water leakage into the boat and pulled out anything that had gotten wet. In addition to the forward hatch, four of the shrouds (lines that connect the mast to the boat) also had leaks dripping water into some of the salon compartments. We spent the rest of the day removing old sealant and adding new caulking to these areas. Then, we prepared to wake up early and do the same sail before the winds picked up in the afternoon.
The sail to Los Frailes the following day couldn’t be more different than the previous attempt. What was hours of wave bashing was now a placid windless lake. Although there was no wind to sail, we enjoyed the gentle motor up the coastline. About halfway into the trip, Eitan spotted a family of humpback whales ahead of us and heading in the same direction. We motored up ahead and Eitan and I jumped off with our snorkel gear and GoPro cameras to try and catch a glimpse of them as they cruised by. We accidentally overshot and ended up right on top of them. I’ll never forget the feeling of looking down and seeing the white outline of the fins and stream of bubbles trailing to the surface from beneath me. It was terrifying. The whales wanted nothing to do with us and quickly changed course to avoid coming any closer. Eitan and I swam back to the boat filled with adrenaline and immediately checked the cameras to see if we captured any good images!
