Baja California, Mexico

Betty was all dressed up with no where to go; we were passing on the Halloween party.  Seahorse V left San Diego at 4:30 pm to get ahead of a storm; predicted winds at 35 knots and heavy swells (déjà-vu all over again). Captain Steve, Ron, Skip, Betty and Erik were aboard. Since Steve and Ron are from Vancouver, BC, we might need a translator for us gringos this trip. We are sailing under the maple leaf flag.

Main, Genoa and Mizzen sails flying out the jetty. Seahorse V is a French Wauquiez Amphitrite 1982; 44 foot, 22 ton, ketch rig. As the afternoon turned to evening, the wind faded away. Time for dinner; Steve and Skip with pork loin on the barbeque, Betty on steamed string beans and Erik on mashed potatoes as the light of day grayed to night. Life is rough ... Ron steered the boat, left turn, south .

What is it with bilge pumps and all this water??? Seahorse V has two electric and one manual bilge pump. They could not keep up with the water coming in at 4:30 am; eleven miles off of Punta Santo Tomas; this is a long way to go to run up on the sand beach. Steve and Ron were up; Ron was hand pumping pretty fast (he is getting a short course in cruising; his first trip … will there be another)? Steve was looking for a leak in the shaft packing, through hulls, etc. We finally decided that the Rule 3700 bilge pump was auto siphoning back into the boat when it shut down; an inch and a half hose can fill up a boat pretty fast. We disconnected the manual discharge line to crate an air break and defeat the suction; the bilges have been dry since … a little redesign work will be needed when we get to a port with a chandlery.

Off of Bahia San Quintin, dozens of porpoises danced around Seahorse V. Whether it was feeding time, or just a visit to the latest transients, they were having a good time showing us up; jump, dive under the keel and out again; the best designs by man can not compete with nature. A grey whale lumbered by; so large it looked slow, like a 747 in the landing pattern. The seals gathered in little conclaves, floating on their backs, discussing the merits of the day’s catch; its like someone called a board meeting and Joe forgot the minutes; so they just talked on. Long rollers from the northwest portend the coming weather tomorrow. We should be well ahead of the bad parts, hopefully.

Today brought good sailing winds; time to get the radial spinnaker on deck and flying. Seahorse V has not flown a spinnaker reliably before. We sorted the sheets, guys, topping lift and rigged a downhaul for the pole; up went the pole. The spinnaker was highly twisted in the sock. Pushing, pulling, twisting, threading and we had liftoff. A blue, red and white radial on the bow with the mizzen behind; seven and a half knots with peaks to nine. Seahorse V was locked onto the wind.

Several hours on the wind and the guy line wore through and separated at the pole. We pulled the spinnaker down and raised the main and Genoa. Across Bahia Viscaino to the northeast end of Isla Cedros. Viscaino has the bad weather, but we are favored by the gods on this passage. I have been by Cedros four times and always passed on the ocean side. We are heading inside for a new experience and a little shelter from the storm that is catching us from behind. As we pass the light house, the winds climb to thirty knots; too much for the sail set; on deck we double reef and roll up the Genoa to a small patch. After all of the sail setting work, the wind dies …. out goes the Genoa and we hit thirty again. This would be the pattern for the front moving through; too much and too little wind … and very unpredictable. A release of the preventer and the main boom scratches Steve’s nose; two centimeters more and it would have been an amateur nose job; sailing requires caution, especially in the dark. We motor sailed though Canal de Dewey, where Isla Natividad stands off the shore. Natividad is home to the caracol cannery after the demise of the plant in Turtle Bay. The late night hour keeps us running south rather than visiting unknown ports in the dark.

We approach the light houses guarding the Bahia Tortuga entrance. GPS and radar guide our entry in the 0300 darkness. Dropped the anchor in twenty feet of water off the pier; we have survived another passage at sea; time to sleep.

California Coast heading South

Caution, you are entering the full spin zone … reality is over rated.

Freedom Won left the dock in Alameda, mid day with Captain John, Skip, Betty and Erik aboard. We were leaving in a hurry to fit into a weather window. Dan and friends were aboard his Islander 36 to escort us out the Golden Gate. Freedom Won is a 1977 Islander 36; it has raced many seasons, but this is the first long cruise. Weeks of preparation, equipment upgrades and new charts have been loaded aboard. It is time to go for the Baja Ha-ha.

A difficulty developed as we passed under the Golden Gate Bridge; Skip and I had told Betty that the boat would not turn left, to head south. John ended up jibing/tacking around to the right and finally set a course for southern waters; Betty got the joke three days later; the liberal left is slipping (Skip and I have been nominated for a Nobel in Humor … we think we are a shoe in).

Winds were light once we left the bay. As night fell, we motor-sailed south. The following seas were rising up through the cockpit drains soaking our feet; it makes for a long watch; now I wished I had packed my boots. Our watch schedule calls for two people at a time for four hours. Conversation fades into the morning. The sky alternates with a blaze of a billion stars and complete overcast. Hopefully the big boats see us.

Woke up to water over the floor boards down below; the bilges were full. An inspection of the rudder packing revealed a surge of sea water into the boat with each following wave. This is not a good time to find out that your electric bilge pump does not work!!! Fortunately, anxious people can move a lot of water with a manual pump. We discussed out situation (35 miles off shore in a leaking boat with a dysfunctional bilge pump) and voted to head for Monterrey bay, 55 miles up wind. Given the wind and the current, Monterrey bay was 25 hours away; would the boat float? We looked at other possibilities and chose Morro Bay, 12 hours, downwind, following current, following seas, more water in the boat. Since you are reading this, we made it into Morro Bay a little after night fall on a flood tide.

The entrance to Morro Bay can be tricky and rough as exhibited by the Coast Guard boat that rolled there during a storm a few years ago. We were fortunate and had no trouble. The Morro Bay yacht club had no space at the dock so we ventured down to the city park. I always park here, right under the sign “No Overnight Parking, Park Closed at 10:00 pm.”

Up early the next morning to test motors, tighten packing, buy bilge pumps and run through frustrating diagnostics …. The pump discharge pipe was plugged with sand; the packing had a little take up …. So it looked like we could head back out to sea. My bags had been stored on the floor and were soaked; salt water drenched underwear is the pits; no matter how long you shower at the yacht club, putting on wet clothes makes it all futile.

An extra fifty dollars to open the fuel pump after hours. It nearly cost a lot more: $1,000 and five years in jail. Betty was topping off the jerry cans when they belched overboard. Who was waiting twenty feet away to fuel? … Homeland Security’s Coast Guard. Fortunately, I think they were watching Betty’s butt in the air and missed the incident. We set out to sea after dark heading for Point Arguello and Conception. We were under star lit sky’s, between weather fronts, heading south. Conception has a well earned reputation for difficult passages. Point Arguello was first with a transit two miles off shore between two yellow buoys. It passed in my sleep on John’s watch. Skip and I had the watch at Conception. Heading south on a night like this beats beating north; 25 knot winds and choppy waves; fairly uneventful.


We passed the “Chrystal Ship” oil production platforms. As the sun rose we plotted a course for Catalina Island. Here in the Santa Barbara ship channel there were no ships. It must be a sign of the economy.


While washing dishes, the water ran out. Four people on board and a fresh water flushed head … well you do the numbers, not enough water. Time to start up the brand new, water maker; but there was only a trickle. Something was not putting out; wait for Catalina.

We arrived in Catalina long before sunrise; a boat at sea is on 24/7. It was good to tie up and rest. With dirty dishes in the sink and no water we went out for a great breakfast on shore. John set about trouble shooting the water maker while Skip, Betty and Erik trekked around Avalon and bought a few sundries. Topped up fuel and water; the water maker had not heeded Johns efforts and still would not work. We were off to San Diego in the afternoon. Light winds with intermittent sailing.

I had the watch as we approached the safe water buoy, SD, blinking its identification dot-dash at three in the morning. Betty took the helm to guide us through the red-right-returning buoys into San Diego Bay. Near the Harbor Police dock we hit a wall of fog and the city disappeared. Creeping forward with radar and GPS we landed safely at the dock. Quickly asleep and just as quickly awakened by Homeland Security. So they wanted to know what part of Mexico we had come from and when … I thought they were supposed to know all of this!! … but after twenty questions, standing in my underwear with nothing to hide, they accepted we had come from the US and moved on to wake up the next boat.

After securing a berth and accessing the work to be done on Freedom Won, John informed the crew he would not be preceding on the Baja Ha-ha and we should find another boat. Skip found Seahorse V with room for all of us.