Back under sail
22 hours after leaving Ensenada we anchored at Isla San Martin. It was a mostly easy crossing with sustained winds of 17-22 knots . Windier than we prefer and most sailing was done with both reefs in the main and the headsail put away.
We had a few hours early Thursday morning of no wind, and drifting slowly exacerbates the swell. Without enough water flowing across the rudder the autopilot gets confused. Hand steering is necessary, because it gets really uncomfortable to be broadside to the swell.
Right at 5:30 am when Taylor’s sleep shift ended we fired up the motor and puttered onward. Taylor killed the motor and hauled up full sail at 7:30 when the wind returned and gracefully gave me another hour of sleep sans grinding diesel. The sailing was fast the rest of the morning. A south swell was predicted so we opted for the south and west protection of Isla San Martin. But that left us exposed to the 20+ knot winds from the north. After 20 minutes at anchor we pulled the hook and sailed another 3 hours to San Quentin bay. The bay is protected to the north from waves, but being just a low sandbar we still had 20 knots of wind all night with chattering wind waves.
There are a few buildings on shore, and the occasional dune buggy running the beach but it’s easily the most isolated anchorage we’ve been at thus far.
We opted to stay aboard scooter and not dinghy to shore. With these winds, and a motor failure, we wouldn’t be able to row back home, and would end up a few dozen miles down wind.
Rumor has it pangueros will come alongside to offer rides into town but we never got more than a polite waive from the 1 panga going to fish.
Since starting sailing I’ve read a lot of old sailing books and one thing I’ve decided is sailors were HARD folk. Even 20 years ago, without the cheap access to gps, sailing was really hard. And then to add on the misery of years at sea against one’s will, the work required to keep a wooden boat held together, and all the ropes are the same color!
We’re so incredibly blessed by a fiberglass boat that doesn’t leak, and by 5 devices that can readout our exact location (within a few feet) all the time.
Sailing used to be terrifying. Without charts, without schedules, casks of moldy water.
Sailors were allotted a pint of rum a day, to blend with 3 pints of water. This 25:75 blend was called grog and hopefully killed any bacteria in the months-old-water-casks. So a 1/2 gallon of wine strength drink was meant to keep you alive and hydrated. Occasionally they were awarded more, hence the origin of the term ‘groggy’. too much grog.
We felt softly akin to this term this week. If you add enough bleach to Mexican unfiltered Dock water it’s safe to drink and,according to sailing books, a bottle of white wine per 50 gallons negates the bleach taste. So our drinking water is a fractional homage to the grog of the olden days.
