After our sleepless night of the Chubasco, Eitan was exhausted. But, after seeing our first whale shark, I was keen on getting to Bahia de Los Angeles ASAP and agreed to spend most of the day at the helm as we headed north, so Eitan could get some much-needed rest. It seemed the wind from the night didn’t stir up much swell and it was a calm, windless motor up to Punta San Francisquito. We arrived at the natural hurricane hole in the early afternoon and were the only boat in the bay, other than a couple of pangas. A “hurricane hole” is the term given to an anchorage or mooring field that has almost 360 degrees of land protection, preventing any wind swell from penetrating.
I read outside as Eitan worked on plumbing in the water makers. I was approached by some of the local fishermen on one of the pangas. They seemed a bit bashful, not expecting a woman onboard, and asked in Spanish if I had any Coca-Cola. I said I only had one and ran downstairs to grab it. After handing it over, they asked if I wanted any fish in exchange for the soda, I said “Si!” and they pulled out a 3-foot grouper. Considering we hardly have the space or knife to filet such a large fish, let alone having any fridge or freezer space, I asked for something “mas pequeno”. The fisherman laughed and responded “filetes?” and I agreed to some pre-fileted mahi instead and felt it was a great bargain.
The next day we continued north to a beautiful anchorage called Playa las Animas. It was another day and night of very light winds. The next day as Eitan was finishing up the water maker installation, I spotted some dolphins patrolling the bay. I grabbed my paddled board and paddled over to them, hoping they would stay for a while. While they weren’t exactly super playful, they were in no hurry to leave and tolerated my presence, occasionally swimming by curiously. I paddled with them for about an hour and Eitan got the drone out to snap a couple of pictures. It was a magical experience to see them in such a way.
After leaving Loreto almost two weeks ago, we were on our final stretch into Bahia de Los Angeles! We only had about 12 miles left to get to the next anchorage called Ensenada Quemado at the southern end of the bay, and arrived in the afternoon. The wind had been blowing from the south, so the north facing bay seemed like a nice, well protected spot to anchor. Since it was a bit windy throughout the day, we opted for a movie in the cockpit that afternoon instead of going to shore. As we watched the movie, we noticed the wind start to change directions. What was originally from the south was now shifting around to the north and we were quickly losing the protection from the bay.
Eventually, the wind settled for a while at 20 knots from the north and the swell started to build and build. Our once calm protected bay now had 3 to 4-foot rollers coming in and we were uncomfortably pitching up and down. From our Chubasco experience, we were worried the wind would continue to shift and rotate a full 360 degrees, rotating the boat and exposing the beam to the swell. For comparison, even a 1-foot swell on the beam is enough to send things flying off shelves and knock you around the cabin. Around sunset, Eitan and I put out the stern anchor to keep the bow of the boat pointed into the swell to mitigate the rolling and I got to thinking about the potential dinner options given the amount of movement in the galley.
After a couple hours of discomfort with no relief from the swell, Eitan proposed moving to Don Juan, another hurricane hole anchorage about 3 miles away. Not realizing how close this other anchorage was, I was a bit annoyed we didn’t choose this option sooner, having sat with my anxiety all evening. Eitan and I coordinated to get the stern anchor up, dinghy ready for tow, hatches and windows closed, interior items secured, and main anchor up. It was a rollie and wet trip with some water over the bow. I went below to check and see if any water had come in through the v-birth hatch and found the cushions sparkling from bioluminescence that had soaked through. I laid down a towel and came back upstairs to watch the dinghy towing behind us, hoping he wouldn’t be flipped by the wind and waves.
We arrived in Don Juan about an hour later and I was relieved to have such a protected anchorage nearby. This experience combined with the Chubasco made me nervous for the weeks to come, exploring Bahia de Los Angeles. How could you possibly pick a good anchorage when the winds are capable of doing a complete change of direction at the drop of a hat? How can you plan a trip when the wind forecasts are repeatedly wrong? In our weeks to come, it became normal for winds to range from 5 to 25 knots throughout the day in one location. In some anchorages, you could see the wind line of white caps neighbored by placid water just a few hundred feet away. The wind in Bahia de Los Angeles is definitely strange and unpredictable.
