The Taco Traveler

(back-dated to 5/1/2009)

It’s been a very difficult sail so far since I left Ensenada. Well, I guess there has been some good, too, but basically when you’re single-handing and both of your autopilots give out, it’s hard to see the good amongst all the hand-steering for hour upon hour. I’m just now leaving Isla Cedros, about 50 more miles (7 hours) to Turtle Bay where I may be able to get Internet and post this tonight.

The biggest issue so far has been the lack of a reliable autopilot. Theoretically I should be able to balance the boat (adjust the sails so she stays on course), but with the wind coming from dead astern and some fairly large following seas that want to push us off course every ten seconds or so, it’s just not possible. In fact, it’s even difficult hand-steering while *not* standing up, so I spend a lot of time and concentration steering downwind and trying to maintain the right levels of speed and direction, while my arms, shoulders, neck, back, eyes, legs… everything is killing me. I’ve got cuts on both hands, two of them fairly deep and painful but I have no idea where they came from. But I’ve made it across Bahia Viscaino, and that’s one of my larger successes, so far.

Just outside Ensenada on Tuesday morning I caught a nice bonito, but haven’t had time to cook it until last night while finally at anchor off Isla Cedros. This was my first bonito – about 15 pounds, and was a very nice fish. I hauled him in under full sail, so it made the battle extra hard with the boat going 7.5 to 8 knots and having to try to keep the boat going one direction with nobody at the helm. I believe at that point that I was on a beam reach, so the wheel autopilot was able to keep up long enough to allow me to haul the fish in and clean it. Autopilots like a beam reach a lot more than they like going downwind, though my main autopilot (O.V.) could handle anything… it’s just the $1,000 it would take to replace the linear drive that has created the problem.

Crossing Bahia Viscaino was pretty much a nightmare, with the following seas, wind directly at my back, and the last anchorage I’d planned to stop at (Bahia San Quintin) was completely blown out on Thursday night, so I just kept going. The problem with having wind directly at your back, non-sailors, is that it requires a lot of concentration to run dead downwind with just a main, because if a wave turns you too much, or you don’t pay attention, you could have an accidental gybe. I had a preventer rigged the first time it happened, but it wasn’t rigged very well because the boom came crashing over with such force that it just stripped the preventer out of the winch. That accidental crash gybe would have knocked me out (and probably off the boat altogether, 15 miles offshore… at dusk) if I hadn’t been ready, as I was freeing one of the yankee sheets from a turnbuckle and was moving quickly towards the cockpit when I felt it happening, but I was ducking, of course. The preventer line bent one of the stantions and further ripped my house canvas as it smacked it when the boom came over. This, amongst a few other mishaps and bad decisions has frustrated me a lot, but I’m getting better and getting the hang of sailing Chemistry with no help - no help even from an autopilot. I’ve since moved the preventer farther forward, and the preventer has made a couple of saves.
The good news is that with 20-30 knots at my back I’ve been able to get this far using 95% wind power. I only motor to get into & out of anchorages at this point, but we’ll see how that continues.

When I left San Diego I figured I’d be in Cabo by Saturday or Sunday, but that’s looking crazy, and it will probably be more like Wednesday or Thursday because I’m unable to make any progress while I’m resting. And with no autopilot, I need a lot of rest. That’s been another learning curve this trip – I’d never had to “heave-to” before, which is basically a means of standing still at sea. You arrange the sails so that the boat stays pointed to the wind and you just bob there comfortably. I’ve discovered that Chemistry heaves-to fairly well under mainsail only (held out to the side a bit by the track, and with the current and the larger winds I actually make 1 or 1.5 knots backward (south, down the coast as I’m pointed to the north) as I’m hove-to, which is a pretty good deal.

So I’m still just motoring in the lee of Isla Cedros (this is a heck of a big island) and will be stopping at most every rest stop between here and Mag Bay, unless I can find better wind direction (wind at 120 degrees off the bow, pushing me from the aft quarter), in which case I may go offshore farther and just heave-to to sleep again. Can’t wait for Cabo and warmth, a free and nighttime-calm anchorage with parties on the beach, coffee shops with Internet, and jet-ski / parasail craziness out there on the water all day long.

Turtle Bay – 1 May 2009

I’ve made it to Turtle Bay, basically about half way to Cabo. I’ll leave early in the morning for Punta Asuncion or possibly Abreojos (“abre ojos” = “open your eyes”). It will be 14 hours to Abreojos, and then a longer leg down to Mag Bay / Bahia Santa Maria. Then it’s a 24-hour trip from there to Cabo San Lucas.
It’s 7:30 here, and I want to get into town to see if I can get Internet and a couple of fish tacos somewhere. There aren’t many services here, but it’s worth a shot.

Cancel that… I guess the only reason I’d be going into town would be to send this off and catch up on a few emails, but at this point I think it’s more important that I just get going very early in the morning. It’s a pretty big pain to take the dinghy off the deck and an even bigger pain to lower the outboard and attach it to the dinghy, and all of that for one 30-minute trip to town doesn’t make a lot of sense. Hopefully nobody is too worried (Dad) and everyone knows I know what I’m doing despite the occasional bad sailing decisions, and that outside of the occasional crash gybe, I’m doing well and moving forward.

So instead of getting the dingy prepared, I’m going to make some bonito spaghetti, watch a movie on my laptop, and get to bed. I’ll be up and out of here about 4am to ensure I arrive at Abreojos before sunset tomorrow. Is there anyone in the world who likes anchoring in an unfamiliar spot in the dark?