Quijote on the Run

Did I mention that we took first place in our Haha division? We were in the division that they called "racer/cruisers with spinnakers."  I’d have classified us as more cruiser than racer, but maybe that speaks more of attitude than hardware.  True, we did have a spinnaker, although the shredded remnants were rolled into a sodden mess on the deck for most of the race.  And yet… somehow we managed to win it.  I guess the whole division had the same attitude as we did.  We sailed when we could, motored when we had to.  I didn’t much want to be left behind, so I wasn’t one of those boats that doggedly sailed on without much wind.  Some boats somehow managed to sail the whole first leg.  We did sail the whole second leg, which is something, but there was plenty of wind for most of that.  At the end of the race we reported total sailing and motoring times for each leg.  It would be interesting to know what kind of formula they used to place the boats.

On Monday morning in Cabo, the storm winds had settled down a bit so we decided to make a run for La Paz.  We untied, bid farewell to the boats we were rafted to, and motored over to the fuel dock to fill our tanks.  While we were there, we were told that the port was closed, that naval vessels were sitting outside the harbor turning back anyone who tried to leave.  No one knew when it would reopen or why it was still closed.

So feeling a little put out, we motored back and re-tied ourselves to the raft to wait.  A couple hours later we saw activity and were told that the port had opened.  I tried calling the harbor on the vhf radio, but they didn’t have any interest in responding the likes of me.  The marina staff assured us it was now open however, so we decided to take their word for it.

We didn’t get far out of the harbor before we discovered the reason for their caution.  There wasn’t much wind left in that tropical depression/storm, but the seas were jumping.  Yumpin’ Yimminy, what a ride.  Running downwind with the waves we found it easiest to let engine, main sail, and wind action share the load of pushing us up the Sea of Cortez at 7 knots. Things quieted down after dark as we moved farther into protected waters, but we made good time over all:  140 miles in 24 hours.  That put us into La Paz around mid morning, before the afternoon winds had time to kick up.

So here we are. Settled into La Paz and looking forward to the Christmas break.   We’ll return to the boat in mid-January with our mojo replenished.  Our run from Seattle in mid-August to La Paz in mid-November has been very successful.  Thanks to an excellent crew, I don’t think we could have asked for more.

Rain in Cabo

Quijote is in Cabo! Cabo San Lucas is everything they say: hot and touristy are at the top of my list. The marina is noisy and crowded. It's loaded with huge boats filled with tourists and playing base thumping music across the harbor. Add to that the hundred or so Haha boats shoe-horned in and you have the recipe for a unique experience. We're on the end of a four boat raft all tied to one spot on the dock. That means we have to walk across three other boats to get off ours. It's certainly not optimal, but it is nice to have shelter from a storm coming through.

The up-side to this tourist centric location is that English is spoken most places and contrary to its reputation, it not all that expensive, at least by Seattle's standards.

The tropical depression that's been predicted for several day is finally in full swing. The winds have so far been moderate, but heavy rainfall rolls in every few hours, making it impossible to venture off the boat without getting soaked. We were caught out in it last night on our way back to the boat after dinner.

Thankfully the storm should dissipate by tomorrow morning, so we'll
depart and make our way up to La Paz. We'll arrive on time to make our flights, but won't be anchoring along the way as planned. Maybe we can hit a couple of those anchorages on our return trip south from La Paz to Puerta Vallarta in March.

Kay flew out yesterday, so it will just the three of us for this last bit. Then Kevin will leave us, perhaps for good, and Petar and I will fly to our respective homes for the holidays until mid-January.

This has been more time than we expected or wanted in Cabo, but we'll be on our way shortly. It's all good.

----------
Sent via SailMail, http://www.sailmail.com

Beach Party

I was a little reluctant to join the Haha, but I'm glad we did. It's a good group of like minded people who appreciate the safety and community of the group. They give back to the communities they visit and help coordinate clearance formalities with Mexican officials. Overall it has been a very positive experience.

Since our last blog post we travelled another day and a half to Bahia Santa Maria where we are now, settling in for a second night. The last half of that leg saw sustained winds in the low twenties for most of the night with gusts in the low thirties. It was a wild ride with a lot of sail damage reported. By then we had already lost our spinnaker, so we sailed through the night in reasonable comfort with a reefed genoa. From the sound of it, the boats that fared the best were the ones that sailed most conservatively, not trying to make too much of a good thing.

A few hours before daylight, we apparently sailed through the lines of a small fishing boat that wasn't visible to our man on watch. We quickly broke free and continued through the night, but an hour later he caught up with us motored along side for a while, shouting at us in Spanish. This continued for an hour or so before he contacted our fleet demanding compensation for for his lost equipment. We met with him in the anchorage the following morning and after some negotiation paid him $100. It was a little stressful and we were glad to have the incident behind us. It could have been a lot worse. Those guys are difficult to see and it would be so easy to hit one.

With that we were free to relax. We've had beach BBQ parties at both anchorages and the party at this location included a live band. They drove over from La Paz and the locals set up booths to serve food. We hired a panga to drive us to shore so we wouldn't have to deal with the surf in the dinghy, then took a short hike on the bluffs along the shoreline, before joining the party. Cheap, cold beer, good food, live (sort of) music and ample chitchat were enjoyed by all.

Tomorrow we have a short four hour motor to Man-o-war cove in Magdalena Bay.

----------
Sent via SailMail, http://www.sailmail.com

Quijote Crew Rocks

Sailing can be said to be alternately peaceful and terrifying. We can't reasonably expect to experience one without the other in this game.

We've been on leg two for about twenty-four hours now after leaving Bahia Tortuga for Bahia Santa Maria in calm conditions. The rally's Grand Poobah dictated a two hour rolling start with engines running to charge batteries and let afternoon winds fill in. And fill in they did. We enjoyed wind speeds in the mid teens (in knots) for most of the day.

Then just before dark all hell broke loose. I wasn't on watch, but Kevin describes what happened like this: a large rolling wave travelled under the boat, rocking the mast and spinnaker away from the wind, which effectively slackened the wind on the sail. Then it rolled back, pushing the sail into the wind, doubling the force from 16 knots to something possibly near thirty with a punch. The spinnaker exploded into shredded nylon in a raucous cacophony.

Kevin was already sprinting down the deck by the time I bounded up the steps to find out what was going on. Petar took the helm and Kay grabbed my harness for me as Kevin and I worked to pull the sail onto the deck before it had a chance to wrap itself around the keel, prop, or rudder. Thankfully quick action by everyone helped save the day. It's not often we have situations that demand all hands on deck, but when they do, it was great to see everyone keep clear heads in the midst of chaos.

So the spinnaker is toast. It was the last remaining sail of the original inventory when I bought the boat. In retrospect it might have been prudent to have the sail surveyed by my sailmaker at Port Townsend Sails before heading out. It looked to be in pristine condition, which was why I didn't, but who knows what condition the stitching was in after twelve years.

I've heard reports of two other boats on the rally's radio net of blown out spinnakers since starting, so the conditions are really testing the fleet's sails. One of the boats got the sail wrapped around their prop, so they're heading for shelter to deal with it. Thankfully they have sails up and a working rudder.

We're now using our cruising genoa. It's a heavier, slower sail made out of Dacron instead of nylon, so it's more durable.

----------
Sent via SailMail, http://www.sailmail.com

They're.... OFF!

The Baja Haha got off with a bang as 140 boats paraded out San Diego harbor to the adulation of crowds, cannon fire, fireboat fountains and media hoopla. We sailed past the Committee boat packed with spectators, dignitaries and even a mariachi band. It was quite the event.

It turns out this is actually a race. Who knew? A dozen or so divisions, each with about a dozen boats are ostensibly competing for first place honors, although what that means is anybody's guess. I say that because once again we are doing more motoring than sailing. When to motor and when to sail is up to the crew. The only constraint is that you can't be so stubborn about sailing that you arrive days later than the rest of the fleet. The objective, after all is not time, but having a good time. Hence the rally (er, race) name.

We were a little slow to get our spinnaker up at the start, mostly because we hadn't given it much thought. Oops. But soon we were flying along, passing boats right and left, pointing out boats that had an even tougher time getting their sails sorted than we did. Baja Haha, that's hard to believe. I imagine there are plenty of boats that have crew without much time on their boat.

I have no idea where the other boats in our ' Enchilada' division are, but since 4/5 of our time is spent motoring, no one really cares. The objective, at least our objective is to arrive in daylight, which means speeding up and burning lots of fuel, or slowing down and burning much less. We'll burn about a third of the fuel arriving after sunrise than we would by putting the pedal to the metal and arriving before sunset tonight. Many of the boats are familiar with the anchorage and don't mind arriving after dark. I've never been there, so I'd rather not. Safety first!

----------
Sent via SailMail, http://www.sailmail.com

From Hoho to Haha

The Coho Hoho Rally included a dozen or so boats traveling at roughly the same timeframe from Port Townsend to San Fransisco.  The rally organizers put on a fist full of seminars covering a range of topics designed to make participants safer, more knowledgeable mariners. Quijote made the passage a couple of weeks before the rest of the fleet, but the rally was well organized and we appreciated the seminars.

South of San Diego we’ll participate in the Baja Haha Rally.  The Haha is less about seminars and more about herding 150 or so boats across a start line, through a couple of anchorages and into Cabo San Lucas.

I was half inclined to avoid the whole mess, but… I’ve never been involved with anything like it, so we’ll see what happens.  One advantage is that clearance into Mexico has been somewhat streamlined.

A third rally that we’re considering is called the Pacific Puddle Jump.  We’ll join another group of boats headed for the South Pacific from all over the Americas.  In our case we’ll depart Puerta Vallarta for the Marquesas in April.  Again the primary advantages will be our safety in numbers and the streamlining of French Polynesian formalities.

But for now we are bound for Mexico. Two days and we’re off!