That trip down from Bahia de Tortuga to Abraojos was the biggest weather Asunto has been in yet. We had wind holding steady at 30 knots and gusting higher, and the sea were consistently 15 feet. Assent was amazing. We were flying downwind on the poled out genoa, hitting 11 knots as we surfed down a wave. Inside the movements were so balanced that I was shocked when I finally had a moment to pop my head out and see the waves towering behind the stern. Rogue waves would occasionally crash into the cockpit from behind, soaking anyone in it. Everything was pretty salty after that trip. We arrived in Abraojos 3 hours ahead of schedule. Awesome.
Hard to capture the size of waves
Abraojos translates to ‘open your eyes’; so named by the Spanish explorers who found the point scattered with reefs and other obstacles. We anchored in the bay over a sandy bottom and were surprised at how little swell there was, considering the size of the waves overnight. After landing Otto on the panga beach we walked the town. Abraojos was lovely, it clearly had some tourism and American dollars. The town is close to the whale lagoon, where the humpback come to birth, as well as some great surf break, and the American influence was evident in the small store, where the carried a selection of gringo products. We headed out to the point for a walk and had a nap in the sand, trying to sleep of some of the night before.
Asleep ashore
The wind picked up again the next afternoon and the swell did too. It is a very common weather pattern around here to have a strong afternoon land breeze. We headed off to San Juanico and arrived early morning. I will always remember it as the place Fynn became a fish… but it was also where we had a perfect dinner out at El Burro. I probably could have stayed here… but it was time to press on. We had also lost most of our wind, which meant a long motor overnight to Santa Maria. We anchored in crystal clear water and enjoyed the mile long beach. The water was unseasonably warm, a trend this year. At dusk we did a sunset sail across the bay, knocking off 8nm for the next day. Originally we planned to spend a night or two in Mag Bay itself, but after reviewing the anchorages we decided to skip it- the closest anchorage was 10 nm from the entrance.
Southern Baja
With a 180 mile trip to Cabo we didn’t need anymore miles. Santa Maria to Cabo would be our longest family leg yet, an expected 36-48 hours. One of our biggest concerns was actually Kyber. He hates having to pee on board and will just stop drinking water. To prevent him from becoming dehydrated I feed him bowls of water with a bit of rice at the bottom, had him like the cooking pot filled with water and soaked his food in water as well. This ensured he had enough to drink and sure enough when he finally had to pee badly enough he did the deed on deck. The trip down went off without a hitch, we were able to sail a fair bit on the spinnaker, which kept our speed up in light winds. We ended up dropping the hook in Cabo around midnight after only 36 hours.
Long motor sail drift to Cabo
So happy to get to shore for a real pee
Ok here is the truth. This is this first time I have done my full night shift in a long while. And to make it worse I only have one shift- from 8-10. This is intentional as I a pretty occupied taking care of Fynn during the day and don’t have a lot of opportunity to catch up on sleep. So let’s review my last three shifts:
- I didn’t even do the last one. I fell asleep at 7:30 and woke up at 9 (of course with Kolby’s blessing as I was toast)
- I only did half my watch the time before that as Kolby volunteered to start at 9
- The time before that I fell asleep on watch. I had set my timer for 15 minutes and dozed off, only to wake up 40 minutes later to realize my alarm had been set to silent.
This time it looks like I will make it through- but the real point here is what a super awesome captain my hubby is. I will have to remember I wrote this when I’m going a little crazy.
I’m not sure which day was more exciting. The day Fynn was born or the day she became a fish. We are in San Juanico, a small town centered around gringo hill. The American influence is apparent here- trees planted in yards, english signs and people playing in the water on SUPs, kayaks and surfboards. A true collision of small Mexican town with Cali surf town.
There is a little beach here, tucked under some bluffs that make is difficult to access from shore. A perfect place to spend the day.
There was no transition. Last beach day Fynn was nervous around the waves then suddenly she is laying on her tummy laughing as they wash over her. She is body surfing them in, not minding when she she comes up spitting out salt water. She is walking in chest deep and practicing her ‘swimming’. Fynn’s current version of swimming is walking in chest deep in water but using her arms like the breast stroke. It’s priceless really. She has become a little fish.
We found out that there was a really bad fire in our townhouse complex. Our unit wasn’t burnt, but half the building is gone, so we really don’t know what is happening next. It is hard being disconnected when big life events happen. We had also put a lot of our stuff into the storage unit there and it sounds like most of it will be ruined. It was also our investment and source of rental income. These things are only money but that feels more important now when we aren’t making an income. I haven’t completely processed how I feel yet. I am sad yet grateful no one was hurt. I can’t imagine how it feels to have your house burn down, or your home sink at sea. Asunto is so much more than a boat –she is our safe haven and almost part of the family; an extension of who we are and what we do. I had a hard time on watch last night and had to focus on my book to stop my mind from wandering into places I didn’t want to entertain; like being in a life raft at sea or being struck by lightening (it was stormy on the horizon again).
I finally was able to buy Fynn some crafting materials. Just the basics – paint, paper googly eyes, scissors, glue and other bits and bobs. I couldn’t stand the mess of paint before now- she was just too little and we don’t have a great space for it. Now she paints out in the cockpit and gets the paint mostly on the paper. The craft bins have been great though. Half the time is just mucking about in them but better than a screen. We are both getting more relaxed on passages and have started a sort of routine that is basically play till dinner at six, then it is dark and we watch movies till bedtime. Last night was a really rolly night so Fynn tucked into bed with me as she was having a hard time of it by herself. Every so often after a particularly big swell I would hear ‘Mama?’ and I would lay a comforting arm on her and she would drift back to sleep. It was cozy.
Hard at work..thanks Kyber
Artwork on display
We made it! Yippee, well to Mexico at least. There is still a long Baja Coast ahead of us but at least we have fulfilled the goal of sailing to Mexico. Kolby asked me if I really thought we would make it, when we talked of sailing away so many years ago. Honestly, I alway knew we would.
Street Tacos
I wouldn’t say we are cruising yet. So far we are really just transiting, rarely spending more than one night in a place and averaging 100+ miles every two days. A day of rest and boat jobs, sometimes just a day of boat jobs, alternates with days or nights of travel. We have been travelling at night quite a bit which has its pros and cons. On the plus side Fynn sleeps during the nights, and gets to run some steam off during the day, and it is easier on Kyber. On the downside, it is tiring on everyone and the next day is a bit of a right off. Sleep has been a bit elusive as we are often anchored in the swell and pitch and roll all night. Thankfully Fynn tends to sleep through even the wildest rides, but then she might wake up in a calm anchorage for unknown toddler reasons. Basically I feel tired all the time.
This constant on-the-go and get things done is very hard on me. Most of our landfalls have been streams of to dos- get groceries, find laundry, find Internet, find boat parts, arrange repairs, etc. Fynn gets dragged along as we work through the challenges of finding stuff in an unknown city without a car. Of course by age two she has her own agenda – find stuff to climb on, run down hills, eat snacks… it can feel very frustrating at times when we are time constrained and have very different to do lists. I find myself stressed out way more than I did at home, where a 20-minute walk to the store 5 minutes away is irrelevant.
It is also harder living on the boat as we tick away the miles. I spend most of my day below decks with Fynn, keeping her entertained, keeping her company, taking her to the toilet or just helping her stay upright as the boat rolls beneath her. I feel like I have missed out on most of the trip down, seeing only the familiar wall of Asunto’s interior. I crave time to myself to read a book or just watch the horizon. Often I feel nauseous and tired, which is probably compounded by my second pregnancy. By the time Fynn is asleep around 8pm I too am exhausted and head off to bed.
Fynn is naturally a very busy, active and independent toddler. She would hands down rather be climbing a playground than anything else. She is also headstrong and I certainly haven’t found the most effective parenting strategy for our current situation. At home we would just go outside- go for a walk or the playground. Or we might go and visit friends or go swimming, all of the time filling activities that I took for granted. On the few days that we have been on a beach life was certainly easier. Fynn has heaps of fun playing in the sand and swimming around or going for a ride on the paddleboard. She can easily spend hours at this without it being overly challenging for anyone. So of course when I feel like I can’t cope I try to remind myself that this state is transient and it will certainly be easier for the months in the Baja. But then I think of Hawaii and Alaska with a toddler and a newborn and I panic again and wonder what the hell I am doing.
I also wonder if parents cruising with toddlers have the same challenges, or if I just am no good at coping. Of course I have read people say it can be difficult at times, but is this code for total break down and want to go home? Or difficult as is ‘sigh, well that was tough’; I would like to know if I am alone in this. Kolby and I discussed my expectations of the trip last night. I think that I hadn’t really given these two months of transiting enough thought. I mostly had them written off as I dreamed of playing in the Sea of Cortez. I didn’t expect it to be particularly easy, but I certainly hadn’t taken into account the effect of the constant swell, which effectively puts Fynn’s independence level around zero, a state that frustrates both of us. Luckily Fynn herself is a pretty happy sailor, who never gets seasick. This trip certainly isn’t nearly as hard on her as it is on me. She loves seeing Mom and Dad all the time, and thinks dolphins passing by are the most amazing things. But she can pick up on my current state and we can certainly get into a bit of a downward spiral, which is something I am trying to work on. Being totally honest I feel disappointed in myself for not having better control over my emotions. I need to find some balance and some peace and start to enjoy whatever the day throws at me. I need to remember to breathe.
Note: I wrote this right when we reached San Deigo, and it is an accurate reflection of how I felt after a month moving down the coast. Now, after resting in San Deigo for the last week, I feel completely recharged and the author of the above feels like a stranger. This will be nice to remember the next time I feel wiped out- a week of rest and then I am back at it!
We left at 5am for Oxnard and tied up at the guest dock of the PCYC where our friend Alison was there to meet us. Alison and her husband Allan had sailed their boat to Australia and had met my parents in the Baha HAHA. It was great to chat over a huge breakfast at Mrs. Olsens and hear some of her stories. We set up Kyber in her lovely house (with a dock out back and their Catalina 34 tied up) and headed out for the Santa Cruz Island around 1. By now the wind was going pretty good and we had a fairly intense sail and we tacked into the 25-knot winds. I was down below with Fynn, playing in the bed (ok let’s be clear here, the monkey is playing, I’m trying not to puke) when WHAM then an ‘Oh shit’ from the cockpit and Kolby’s voice ‘Well it’s all over.” I figured a genoa sheet had snapped. But when I poked my head out the door I was surprised to see the clew of the sail had completely blown out. We had a metal ring tied fast to two lines and a sail flying perpendicular to the boat. Oh shit is right. Both sails were furled in and we started motoring towards Smugglers, which was still and hour away. That’s when it got rough below and reminiscent of The Tribune Bay Incident back home.
Motoring into the chop with the blown out clew
As Asunto’s bow leaps out of the waves then crashes into the next one Kolby tries to explain to me how different shaped hauls behave differently in waves and our hull is particularly poor at going through short steep waves. His explanation was cut short by the littlest calling for MAMA and I still don’t really know what he was on about. Well the littlest had to pee, which is in the very bow of the boat. I get her up there, and on the toilet, no small feat and WHAM she is airborne – mid pee. She has been launched off the toilet and has peed all over the wall before landing sideways to the seat. ‘Uh oh’ she says ‘Pee Pee”. Uh oh is right I think as I look at the puddle of urine I am standing in.
Watching as waves of water wash over the bow and run down the windows I am pleased that the replacement hatch parts are working and we are not repeating the Tribune Bay Incident where everything was soaking wet inside. But then I notice the a portside portlight is leaking, so I try to tighten the latch and CRACK the 20 year old Lexan cracks in two. So we now have a cracked window and a lot of water. Great. I moved the settee cushions out of the splash zone and lined the area with towels. It was a great relief to anchor in the lee of the shore at Smugglers. It was still gusty and windy and heck but thankfully there were only smallish waves.
Off the point of Anacapa Islands
The next day it was still windy and we were unable to land the dinghy ashore or even move to another anchorage. So we waited it out and went for dinghy rides and watched movies. Sometime in the middle of the night the wind blew itself out and I awoke with a start What was the sound? Oh wait, that is the sound of silence. The wind has stopped. Happily we motored out of the bay and started on the Santa Cruz circumnavigation. As we now only had three days left before picking up Kyber it was time to move fast.
Beach time on Santa Cruz Island
We made our first day stop at the lovely beach of Coches Prietos and Fynn was thrilled to be off the boat and onto sand. It was also a good spot to practice our beach landings, which are starting to improve. We decided to put some more distance behind us so we continued up the island to Forney Cove, the most exposed anchorage I have ever seen. I actually asked Kolby if this was a real anchorage or a ‘here looks good.’ We were miles from shore tucked behind a shoaling reef that was breaking down the swell. The waves were smashing against the shoreline sending up clouds of spray. It was also the nosiest night yet as the boat rolled and the anchor chain protested.
The next day we continued around the tip of Santa Cruz and headed down the other side, looking for the Painted Cave. After visiting the Blue Grotto Cave in Greece I think most other sea caves will pale in comparison, but this cave did have a very unique feature. As we puttered towards the entrance the stench hit us in the face. Just inside the walls sea lions had hauled themselves up the steep rocks to warm. Further in as the light started to dim the entrance narrowed and the waves surged through. Then out of the gloom…. A mighty roar echoed out to us. Once inside the chamber it was completely dark. We shone the flashlight around the walls and the sea lions hollered in protest, their roars bouncing off the walls. Fynn was torn between thinking this was pretty cool (she loves roars) and kinda scary. Honestly I probably felt the same way.
We anchored in the early afternoon at Fry Harbor and had a great swim before we beached ourselves on the rocks to warm up. Fynn learnt how to ride on Kolby’s back and he swam around the bay, laughing and splashing from her perch. It looked a bit crazy to see her sitting on top of the water, like the fin of a dolphin. Fry Harbour was peacefully calm that night and we all slept well.
Fry’s Harbour
We had to return to Oxnard to pick up our four-legged crewmate so we weighed anchor first thing and started down the coast. Santa Cruz is a very lumpy land, with huge canyons cutting through it and cliffs that drop hundreds of feet into the sea. Most of the land we had seen so far had been very dry looking, with only small bushes and scrubs; this side was greener with some trees. We anchored first in Prisoners Harbour where we stretched our legs as we climbed up the hill. The land has some old cattle pens from the islands ranching days. We then headed for the lovely anchorage at Scorpion Bay where the waves have carved out fantastical shapes into the rocks, caves, tunnels, jagged bits. It made for great snorkeling and paddle boarding. Too bad we couldn’t stay, but Kyber awaits and it was time to head to Oxnard.
Prisoners Bay
Fly Away
Run Daddy Run!
SUP?
It was so great to see our pup again and we really can’t thank our friends Alison and Allan enough for taking such good care of him while we explored their cruising grounds. We were pleasantly surprised by the Channel Islands and wished we could stay longer in their waters. We loved the unique combination of tropical and temperate under water climates (ie kelp forests and reef fish). Very cool.
Grocery shopping with car! UH OH!
This trip was much nicer as we could sail most of the way. With the goal of maintaining a minimum of 4 knots we didn’t have to turn on the engine until about 4 am. It was strange sailing that coast at night with the oil platforms lit up light floating castles. I find it somewhat contrary that California has such strict pollution and emissions laws, but then has dozens of these platforms right off their coast. We learnt from locals at Santa Barbara that some beaches get so tarred up that you can’t use them. During my morning shift I watched as we drove through a huge oil slick. Later, as Fynn and I enjoyed one of those lifetime moments watching dolphins together in the morning light, I could help but wonder how those creatures fared when they came across the oil they were headed straight for. Maybe they can sense it at the surface and dive down, hoping to swim under it. Fynn loves to watch the dolphins. “Mama” “Papa” “Dada” “Baby” she labels each dolphin as they come out of the water in the only way that she can relate to the world, through family.
Santa Barbara was a hopping harbor town. As we fueled up I took Kyber for a quick walk only to discover we had arrived during the Santa Barbara Harbor and Seafood days. The places was packed with people buying fresh seafood, and eating fresh seafood, including raw sea urchins straight from the tank.
We anchored off of the pier and headed back into the marina to find a place to leave the dinghy. From Google satellite images we could see that there there heaps of dinghys tied to the dock and tucked right into shore. After tieing up we checked in with the harbor master who informed us that the dock was permit use only for the liveaboard boats anchored out (which we thought was a cool system). We crossed our fingers behind our backs and promised to move the dinghy, but realistically figures with all the hubba baloo going on no one would notice our unpermitted dinghy. Santa Barbara is hot. After finding the required playground we headed back towards the pier but the extreme tourismness of it all got to us and it was time to head back to Asunto for a swim and some rest. There is a West Marine directly above the fuel dock and a Trader Joes 2 miles into town, so another decent spot to get what you need. From Santa Barbara a lot of people head into the Channel Islands, but first we had to stop by Oxnard where we had family friends who could take care of Kyber while we visited the park (no dogs allowed).
SLO was a surprisingly sheltered anchorage with two piers. We dropped the hook by the XXX pier that leads to Aviva Beach, and hopped into the dinghy. Poor Kyber was just itching to get to shore. When we pulled up to the pier we saw the signs that it was closed for repairs so we had to zoom across the bay to the pier at the boatyard. It was too far for us to lug Fynn back to Aviva Beach over land (which looked very cool) so we hung out at the little beach just off the end of the pier and Kyber and Fynn had a heyday in the sand. FatCat restaurant was always hopping, serving the Hwy 101 drivers stopping by. We enjoyed a tasty cinnamon bun before heading back to the boat to do a few jobs, bake some banana bread and prepare for our second overnighter to Santa Barbara. By 2pm we were underway and the wind had pick up. The sails were out moments after the anchor was stored and away we went.
Out for a ride with Dad
Recent Comments