Engine Repairs

On May 21st, we left Caleta San Juanico and headed south for Puerto Escondido, where we planned to resupply. Our last provisioning had been 12 days earlier, just before we left Puerto Escondido, and were were out of many essentials including ice, vegetables, beer, tortilla chips and liquor, and we were low on water.

The winds were from the southeast, so we began the trip by motorsailing directly into them, trying to get far enough east to be able to sail south toward Loreto. After about an hour, our engine overheated. When I stopped the engine to investigate, I discovered that the bolt holding the alternator bracket had sheared off. I tried to replace it with another bolt, but a broken piece of the original bolt was stuck inside the engine. I could not get it out and could not put in a new bolt because it was there. So there was no way to secure the alternator with a new bolt, which meant there was no way to tension the fan belt (which drives the water pump). I told Claudia the diesel engine was out of commission and we would have to sail to Puerto Escondido, where I knew we could find a mechanic.

Luckily, we were far enough east to be able to sail south toward Loreto, beating into the strong southeast breeze. We had to tack a bit to get far enough east to make our way around Isla Coronados, but we eventually made it down to Loreto, where we were able to establish an internet connection (using Telcel broadband) and send off an edited manuscript to my Swiss colleagues as we sailed past in the late afternoon.

As evening approached, however, the winds died. We were still several miles north of Puerto Escondido and were bobbing in the waves, going nowhere. Without an engine to take us into port, it looked like it might be a long night at sea.

We talked about using the dinghy and outboard to pull or push the boat, but before trying that I decided to look again at the engine and had an idea. Using twine, I managed to lash the alternator into place. This precarious repair allowed us to start the engine and make it into Escondido without overheating.


The good news was that, while motoring along slowly with the engine held together with twine, I managed to catch a 20 lb. skipjack tuna. It was a highlight of an otherwise frustrating day.

At Puerto Escondido, we were able to find a mechanic (Elvin on the vessel Sea Lover) who had the tools needed to extract the broken bolt from our engine block, so we were back in operation the next day.

We spent the following two days at beautiful Honeymoon Cove on Isla Danzante, which is only a few miles away from Puerto Escondido. Here is a picture of Sabbatical and the trawler Pacific in the cove.

On May 25th we ran out of propane and returned to Escondido to refill our propane bottle. We are there now, using the Singlar Marina WiFi connection to upload these blog posts. We plan to head south later this afternoon and work our way back to La Paz by next Sunday.

Caleta San Juanico

On May 15th, we left Isla Coronados and sailed north about 20 miles to Caleta San Juanico, a popular anchorage that is well-known among cruisers. On the shore of the wide, pretty bay is a tree that has become a kind of cruisers' shrine. Every boat that stops at San Juanico leaves a small notice of its passing on or near the tree. We saw notices from a number of boats we know, including Old Moon and the other Sabbatical. It is said that every boat that travels in the Sea of Cortez eventually stops in this anchorage.



Most of the notices are made of local materials, including sea shells that are found in great profusion on the beaches, and Apache Tears, which are shiny, black obsidian rocks that occur naturally here. We made a small notice on a shell and left it next to one from the other Sabbatical.

We stayed six days in San Juanico. I spent most of that time working on an article that I am co-writing with two Swiss collaborators. I received a draft from them over a Telcel Broadband link while sailing north past Loreto. I managed to revise the manuscript and send it back to them when we passed Loreto heading south on our return trip. Academic projects progress quickly when one has uninterrupted time.

But it wasn't all work. By taking apart the carburator and cleaning the needle valve, I managed to get the outboard motor working again. This allowed us to go out trolling at sunset. We only managed to catch one small reef fish, but it was very pretty.

While I was writing, Claudia spent a lot of time kayaking and snorkeling in the bay. She also collected some nice sea shells and some Apache Tears.

On May 18, for most of the day, we were the only boat in the bay. But it wasn't long before a number of other boats arrived, including our friends Liberty and Black Dragon. On May 20th there were ten boats here and the crew of Black Dragon arranged a beach party with a bonfire at sunset. We met a lot of interesting people, including Don and Linda from Iron Rose (based in San Diego), Irwin and J on Winsome, and Craig and Bruce on the catamaran Gato Go. It was a lively group.

We had one small scare while here. Just before the beach party, I was sitting in the cockpit, reading an article, when I heard the sound of pouring water inside the boat. I asked Claudia if she was running water in the sink. When she said she wasn't, I became alarmed. Investigation revealed that the drain pipe under our galley sinks had broken below the water line and sea water was pouring into the boat. We closed the sea cock, pumped out our bilge, and made repairs to the pipes. It was lucky we were aboard to catch this problem when it occurred. Although I had not noticed it before, some of the pipes under the sink are not marine grade fittings. They are household variety plastic pipes that are not suitable for a below-water-line application. Someone at some point had done a shoddy repair job on the sink. I plan to replace it all with proper marine-grade hoses as soon as possible. In the meantime, we'll close the sea cock whenever we leave the boat.

This marks our farthest venture north into the Sea of Cortez. From here we are turning around and heading south again, back to La Paz, where we will load Sabbatical on a YachtPath freighter for transport to British Columbia.

Isla Coronados

On May 13th we sailed 8 miles from Isla Carmen to a small volcanic island nearby known as Isla Coronados. We anchored in a spectacular bay. The next day, Liberty joined us. In the picture above Sabbatical is the boat in the middle, Liberty is on the left.

On May 14, Seth, Sophie, Casey, Claudia and I hiked to the top of the volcano. It was a tougher hike than we thought and took over 6 hours. Amazingly, 4-year-old Casey held up better than any of the adults. Here are pictures of us at the top. Active Casey managed to be in both pictures!


Isla Coronados was a great place for snorkeling.


And I managed to catch a couple of Trigger fish by casting a jig off the back of our boat. They were ugly but truly delicious--one of our favorite fish in Mexico.

Getting Lost on Isla Carmen

On May 10th, we left Puerto Escondido and sailed about 15 miles to Puerto Ballandra, a bay on the west side of Isla Carmen. Isla Carmen is a large island that lies 10 miles east of Loreto. At Ballandra we anchored next to Liberty and ended up having dinner with our good friends Seth, Sophie and Casey.

The next day, Claudia, Sophie and I decided to hike east across the island to Bahia Salinas which was once a major salt production facility, but is now something of a ghost town. After a quick look at the map, I announced that Bahia Salinas was only a couple of miles away. This was a mistake. It was more like five miles and it took us over three hours to get there. It was a hot day and we had not brought enough water.

Here Sophie and Claudia look down on Bahia Salinas from the mountains we hiked over.


Here is some abandoned equipment from the old salt operation.

And here is Bahia Salinas, which has powdery white sand and a huge, shallow bay.



On the way back we missed a turn and hiked up the wrong arroyo. When we reached a saddle at the top of the mountain, we realized we had come the wrong way. We were tired and thirsty, and we didn't want to hike back down the mountain to find the right path, and then back up again. So we set out along a ridgeline in the direction we thought we should go. This was nearly disasterous, as we were going the wrong way and soon ended up on a narrow, rockey ledge, baking in the hot sun. Luckily, we looked back and saw, in the distance, the trail we had come on. So we worked our way back, over rough ground to get to it. It was a long thirsty walk back to Ballandra, down a dry arroyo. We were dehydrated when we got back and vowed to be more careful in this remote desert area.

Here is what the arroyo looked like. The sticks at the base of the trees were washed down the arroyo during a rain.

The next day we decided to stay at Ballandra to wait out some strong northwest winds. Seth and I went fishing on his dinghy and had some luck--which led to a fish dinner with Seth, Sohphie and Casey, who are becoming our best cruising friends.

Loreto and Mulege

We stayed on the mooring ball in Puerto Escondido for a week while exploring the area. One day we hiked up a canyon in the nearby Sierra Gigante mountains. It required a bit of rock climbing, but was worth it for the beautiful views.




To get around, we rented a car from an agency in Loreto, which delivered the car right to the Singlar marina at Puerto Escondido. We spent a day touring Loreto, including the malecon (shown to the left). Then we drove north to the town of Mulege, where we spend the night in the old Hacienda Hotel.


We also visited the ancient mission, built in 1705.


Mulege is located along a river and is famous for its palm trees, which give the place the look of a tropical oasis in the middle of a desert.

The road from Loreto to Mulege runs up the coast, with nice views of the Sea of Cortez.



Our only problem here was that out outboard engine failed to start. We have a 9.8 hp Tohatsu outboard that we bought new last summer. It has been reliable so far, but when we returned from Mulege, it flooded and would not start. There appears to be something wrong with the carburator. In any event, I had to row the dinghy, full of ourselves and our supplies, out to the boat on its mooring ball--nearly a mile from the dinghy dock. I was not happy. There are no Tohatsu warranty repair stations in Mexico, so we may need to wait a while for repairs.

To Puerto Escondido

On May 2nd, we left San Everisto and sailed 44 miles north to Bahia Aqua Verde. It was a beautiful day of sailing along the colorful, rocky east coast of Baja. We saw few boats other than this motor yacht that passed us in the morning.


To enter Aqua Verde we needed to sail northwest through a narrow passage between Punta San Marcial and the notorious San Marcial reef. With wind from the southeast, we were running dead downwind through the passage on starboard tack. To avoid running by the lee, I favored the right (northern) side of the passage, but kept an eye on the chartplotter and the depth gauge. About half way through the passage, the depth gauge suddenly showed us running into shallow water. Guessing we were too close to the reef, Claudia and I executed an emergency jibe as the depth gauge showed less than 10 feet. We breathed a sigh of relief as we headed left into deeper water. We had nearly run aground on a shoal south of the reef.

The shoal is not shown on the Navionics charts in our chartplotter. I later noticed that the shoal is mentioned in the cruising guide Sea of Cortez by Shawn Breeding and Heather Bansmer. After our close call, I decided to pay more attention to Shawn and Heather and less to the chartplotter. Many of the electronic charts are simply reproductions of old charts, some dating back to the 19th century, that have not been updated with modern technology. Locations shown on the chartplotter can be off by a mile or more, which creates a serious margin for error when negotiating passages less than a half-mile wide. We learned that another boat ran aground on the shoal a few days later.

Here is the rocky pinnacle that marks the entrance to Bahia Agua Verde, a popular anchorage about 40 miles south of Loreto.


Although Agua Verde is beautiful, we could only stay one night. The weather forecasts called for strong "northers" the next few days. Because Bahia Agua Verde is open to the north, it was not a good spot to stay. So we headed farther north for the protection of Puerto Escondido, a remarkable natural harbor that is almost completely enclosed by land, except for a narrow entrance channel.

Getting to Puerto Escondido required another passage through a narrow channel among a group of islands known as Los Candeleros. This time I followed GPS waypoints set forth in Sea of Cortez and had no problem, although it was a bit anxiety provoking because the waypoints took us very close to a dangerous underwater rock that is marked on the Navionics charts. We sailed cautiously through and saw no sign of the rock. Score another one for Shawn and Heather. Their guidebook is essential for cruisers in this area.

We arrived a Puerto Escondido in the early afternoon. It was packed with boats that had come for an event called LoretoFest that had ended the previous day, but we managed to find a mooring ball. We saw a number of boats we know well, including Liberty and the "other" Sabbatical. We caught up with Seth, Sophie and Casey on Liberty, and then had dinner with Phil, Marylou, Kelly and Ryan on Otra Sabbatical. They filled us in on things to do in Puerto Escondido and nearby Loreto.

Here are some pictures of Puerto Escondido, which is located at the base of the Sierra Gigante mountains, just south of the city of Loreto. It is a stunningly beautiful place.

Isla San Francisco and San Everisto

On April 30, we left Ensenada Grande on Isla Partida and sailed 20 miles north to Isla San Francisco, a tiny islet with two famously beautiful anchorages. We anchored on the northeast side to get protection from the strong nightly coromuel winds that blow from the southwest. After a rough night at Ensenada Grande, we wanted a calm anchorage.

The island has some spectacular hiking trails along the ridge that separates the two bays. Here is a picture of Sabbatical at anchor with another boat (Anon) in the northeast anchorage.

Here is Claudia scrambling up the hiking trail.

And here is a shot of a panga entering the southwest anchorage, which is known as "the hook."

The Hook has a beautiful crescent beach where we met a group of Mexican kayakers consisting of six brothers from Cuernavaca and their friends. They had kayaked from San Everisto, on the Baja peninsula and were contemplating crossing to Isla Partida, before continuing south to La Paz. We exchanged weather information and heard some very funny stories about obtuse gringo boaters.

After a pleasant night at this pretty island, we set sail for San Everisto. We motored through a narrow passage north of the island between two dangerous reefs, then fought strong head winds into San Everisto, a well-protected anchorage where there is a small fishing village.

Here is what the reef looked like.




And here is the village of San Everisto.



Although Everisto is pretty, we decided not to stay. We want to get north, and according to weather reports, we have about one more day of westerlies before we will be hit by a strong northerly wind. So we will head north tomorrow.

Catching a Marlin

On April 29th, we left La Paz and headed north. As we sailed past Isla Espiritu Santo, Claudia asked if I was going to try fishing. I was a bit hesitant--I haven't had much luck since hooking the big sailfish off Chacala (see blog posting of March 16). But I put out two lures just in case, hoping to catch something for dinner. On the smaller of the two poles, which had 25 lb test line, I trolled a pink plastic lure that looked like a small squid.

At around four in the afternoon, a marlin took the bait. The small pole bent over and line went singing off the reel. Looking behind the boat, Claudia and I saw the fish leap straight out of the water. I had hooked another monster.

Remembering what happened with the sailfish, I immediately tightened the drag on the reel and held on. After the initial leap, the marlin made a big run and line went smoking off the reel. I worried I'd lose all my line again, but this time I managed to keep enough pressure on the line to turn the fish. At that point, the marlin dove deep, behind our boat. Claudia furled the jib but left the mainsail up and drawing--so the boat was moving forward at about 2-3 knots--keeping constant pressure on the fish. Claudia took the picture shown above about this time.

Although the fish had taken nearly all the line off the reel, I now found that I could slowly reel some line back in. There was too much tension on the line for me to crank the small reel normally, but I was able to grasp the crank mechanism and twist it, drawing in a little line each time, and gradually drew the fish closer to the boat.



Before long, we could see the outline of the fish in the water. But then he saw us and made another run. Again, I almost lost all the line before he was forced to turn. And again I was able to slowly draw line back into the reel, inch by inch, bringing the fish closer. Until he saw the boat, and made yet another run.



I repeated this process at least ten times. Each time I was able to get the fish a little closer to the boat before he turned and made a run to the sides. And each time I was able to turn him back toward the boat a little sooner. I knew the fish was tiring--but so was I. My arms were aching, and my wrist was tiring from having to twist the line in. The small reel had insufficient mechanical advantage for such a strong fish.


But we were getting better and better looks at what I had on the line. It was magnificent. The photos show the small pink lure that the fish took. The hook was initially hidden within the plastic fringe. During the battle, the hook pulled out and the lure caught on a metal swivel at the top of the leader line.






As I drew the fish ever closer, I realized I might eventually win this battle and draw the marlin close enough to capture. But this raised some important questions. How would we get such a big fish on board? And how would we kill it? We have no gaff and our fishing net looked pathetically small compared to this fish--it would hardly fit over the tail. There is no way I could lift the fish from the water using the line--it was only 25 lb. test. The leader on the lure was 100 lb test, but even that seemed insufficient.

Eventually, I was able to bring the fish alongside the boat. He was about five feet long, not counting the sharp looking bill. I could also see the hook, which was lodged in the outside of the marlin's lower jaw. I realized that the hook had done no permanent damage--if I cut the line, the marlin would live. As I leaned over the side to look down at the marlin, I saw its big eye rotate up to look at me--as if it was wondering the very same thing I was--what to do next.

Claudia and I had talked over various ways to get the marlin aboard. She even broke out a hammock that we might use as a net. Ultimately it was the thought of killing and butchering this beautiful animal that detered me. We were fully provisioned. We did not need the meat and our ice box was already full. I decided to cut the line.

Using dikes, I was able to snip the leader at the top of the hook. The marlin swam with us on the surface for several seconds before realizing he was free, then dove below the boat. When I checked the clock I found it was after 6 pm. I had battled the marlin for over two hours.

We had intended to sail all the way to Isla San Francisco. After the long battle with the marlin, it was clear that we would not be able to reach the anchorage before sunset. Not wanting to enter unfamiliar territory in the dark, we decided to return to Ensenada Grande on nearby Isla Partida, where we had anchored several weeks before. It was not an ideal anchorage because the southwest coromuel winds had kicked up a swell that wrapped into the bay. We rocked and rolled all night, then continued to Isla San Francisco in the morning.

La Paz

We spent two weeks at Marina Costa Baja, just north of La Paz. This is a new marina with excellent facilities, including a nice beach club and good restaurants. The Marina has a free shuttle service to downtown La Paz. I shot the picture above at the beach club, where I spent some pleasant hours editing manuscripts.

We have now been in Mexico nearly six months, and plan to stay through the end of May. So we needed to obtain extensions on our six-month tourist visas. We also needed to obtain a temporary importation permit for the boat. After multiple visits to government offices we managed to complete the necessary paperwork and have avoided (for now) becoming undocumented aliens in this friendly country.


When we first entered the marina, we passed this beautiful wooden schooner, which was tied to the fuel dock. The next morning, the schooner was on the bottom of the harbor--no one was sure what went wrong. After several days of work, divers were able to raise the ship.


Here are some pictures of the malecon in La Paz.