Day 10-14 of the Third Voyage: In which things get off to a bumpy start but then…Cabo!

The evening before setting out for Cabo San Lucas, the Captain and HMS Cliff took the dinghy outboard apart, blew on everything, and put it back together again. It’s the mechanic’s version of “try turning it off and back on again.” Between that and reworking the fuel hoses for optimal flow, the outboard came back to life and there was much rejoicing. It’s the little things.

The next morning we got up just before sunrise to prepare for the voyage. Everything was stowed, the cockpit and decks were made ready, and HMS Cliff and I hauled up the first 50 feet of anchor chain to get a head start on the really heavy lifting ahead. While we did this, the Captain took Otter to shore for one last “terra-poopa”. After 30 minutes, they had not returned. We could see them on the beach, but had no way to get hold of them to see what was taking so long (New rule: always take your cell phone.) We scurried about doing the rest of our preparations. Another ten minutes went by. We could see the Captain leaning against the dinghy looking down the beach like he was waiting for something while Otter sat in the sand. HMS Cliff remembered a black truck stopping when the Captain first got to the beach. Was it the Federales? Had they questioned him and he was being “detained” in a way? (New rule: always take your passport.) We saw the Captain grab a huge rock and prop it underneath the dinghy. Another ten minutes went by (New rule: always take a book.) Finally, a truck drove down on the beach and a man got out and talked to the Captain. After a little bit, they removed the outboard and put it in the truck, they then manhandled the entire dinghy into the bed of the truck. They drove off. Had the Captain been kidnapped? (New rule: always take money.) Just as the panic started to set in--Who can we call? How do we get to shore?—the Captain and Otter came zooming across the bay toward Raven. It turns out that even though the waves didn’t look that big from the boat, they were hitting the beach at about four to six feet and he was just not able to get the dinghy past the surf. And when a wave turned them sideways and tossed Otter from the boat, all other attempts were abandoned. It turns out that the man in the truck was an official with the ecology department and a Good Samaritan to boot. He took the Captain, Otter and the dinghy to the other side of town where they could launch safely. It turns out that just a week before, someone else had tried to launch from that stretch of beach during a high surf and was not successful. The term used was “muerte”. So here’s a valuable lesson: when the cruising guide says that a dinghy may be landed on “the beach below the village”, it should be added that “waves may be bigger than they appear” from the boat. That, and always take your cell phone, passport, money, and a book.

And so it was we set out about two hours later than anticipated but the day was warm, the seas were calm, and the wind was just right for sailing. All in all a very pleasant day of passage making. But when the sun settled into the west and darkness fell, it started to get ugly. Because of course it would. And thus we spent yet another night of getting relentlessly tossed around. The Captain had taken us farther offshore to take advantage of calmer conditions (and to shave off miles to Cabo), but even 60 nm out was not enough to lessen the impact of the deep troughs. It was a sleepless night with watches made more challenging by the fact that there was no moon—just a dark, dark sky and a million stars. But stars don’t give off enough light to see the horizon so it’s very disorienting. Imagine being in a planetarium. You’re craning your neck looking up at a simulated night sky—inky blackness punctuated by a million points of light—but there’s a mast swinging wildly back and forth like a giant pendulum, your seat is bucking wildly, and it’s so dark you can’t see the exit sign. Oh, and you can’t get up and leave.

Thankfully, the seas abated by morning and we were blessed with good conditions for the rest of the voyage—about another 18 hours. At long last, about mid-afternoon, we caught sight of the famous “Land’s End” rock formation that signals the entrance to the harbor at Cabo San Lucas. Strong winds swept us along the coast, high waves crashed on the rocks, and we had to steer hard to maintain a course, but as we rounded the corner into the bay, the wind suddenly died down and it became immediately apparent that we had stumbled into party city. We were suddenly dodging luxury yachts, sport fishing boats, glass-bottom boats filled with tourists, and large catamarans crammed with dancing women in bikinis. And loud music coming from everywhere. At one point, a large sea lion jumped into the back of a passing yacht and I swear he was there to dance with the girls until it became obvious that he was actually after the bait fish swimming around in their onboard tank. The fact that everyone kept dancing as if nothing out-of-the-ordinary had happened just augmented the party vibe.

We got situated at our slip in the IGY Marina and headed up to shore—forty plus hours at sea makes those first hours on land quite interesting (you can’t decide if the ground is swaying, you’re swaying, you’re drunk or everyone’s drunk—although given Cabo, it’s probably the latter), but it was good to be walking. A long promenade goes from one end of the harbor to the other, encompassing two marinas, and it’s lined with restaurants, bars, shops, and duty-free stores. Small kiosks are everywhere selling excursions and time-shares and locals walk up and down selling everything from hats and hand-carved figurines to cigars and silver jewelry. It’s hot, humid and chaotic, but it’s fantastic! I can see why it’s so popular. It’s not any place I’d want to be for any length of time, but for a two to three day stopover, it’s a blast.

Yet there is always work to be done. On our first full day, the Captain and I cabbed it over to the local Office Depot to procure a new MacBook. If you can wait to make an electronics purchase in Mexico, do it. Compared to what we would have spent stateside, we saved over 30%. The only difference? The Mexican MacBook has an extra key or two – okay maybe 5. The Captain can now type niño without having to jump through a lot of hoops to get that little squiggle over the “n”. For a few more pesos, he could have gotten a gold MacBook, but he thought that might be a little too flashy. As for our old one? We discovered that it’s the perfect size and shape for lodging underneath the microwave to keep it from skidding all over the galley counter. We call it the “iwedge”.

After a provisioning trip to Walmart and the local supermercado, doing some engine and transmission maintenance, cleaning the boat inside and out, and doing copious amounts of laundry, Raven is ready to head out to Puerto Vallarta. But more importantly, after a couple days of rest and some long, leisurely meals at some of the local watering holes, I think we’re ready too.

Pictured: The Captain catching a beautiful 10-15 lb. dorado. We let this one go; there'll be others.

Not Pictured: The dorado's wife tapping at her watch and saying, "We were due at the Wilson's two hours ago! This had better be good!"

Pictured: Land's End coming into view; 25 knot winds created some chaotic conditions

Not Pictured: The other side; boaters 25 sheets to the wind created some chaotic conditions 

Pictured: A view of the harbor

Not Pictured: The sea lion. He's piloting the 200-person catamaran in the back of the photo.

Heard: Who Let The Dogs Out! Woof-woof-woof-woof-woof!

Pictured: Another view of the harbor; the fishing charter dock. Why yes, that is the Ya Hoo! second boat in.

Not Pictured: The yahoo asking the guy at the kiosk, "I want to do some fishing. Are there any boats around here?"

Pictured: A typical Cabo San Lucas side street. Only one of those cars is parked.

Heard: Who Let The Dogs Out! Woof-woof-woof-woof-woof!