SAILING CAMELOT

Following the Sunset Cruise ships leaving the Harbor, we leave Puerto Penasco at 17:00 sharp. I’m quite anticipating my very own private Sunset Cruise, actually, and it is a pleasurable cruise indeed… for about 20 minutes! Right outside the Harbor, after our left turn to get on course, we get to play dodge-the-fishing-lines. Oh, joy. We are usually quite sharp-eyed when it comes to spot the floating plastic bottles bobbing in the water; this time, however, our eyes are strained to the limit. These bottles are painted green, almost invisible in their sea-camouflage coat of paint. Why do the fishermen do that? Because it’s illegal to fish right outside the Harbor…. Still, there they are, you just can’t see them.

 We limp along cautiously, cursing and swearing (me), practicing boat-slalom and testing Camelot’s maneuverability (Tom). We’d better get out of this  minefield fast, before it gets dark. Thankfully, by the grace of Neptune, we’re finally in the clear, free to sail to our next destination. I swallow the last couple of colorful curses tingling on my tongue, saving them for another occasion. After all, I swear only when needed… God knows what my husband thinks of this transformed version of the woman he married just a few years ago… From a smiling, long-haired cutie with a sweet disposition to a Medusa-style mop top, foul-mouthed- profanities-spitting monster… Anyway…

It’s getting dark. We settle in for the 15-hour trip ahead of us. Luckily, it’s a mild night; calm seas, little wind, no swells. No sailing, either! But Camelot does her best impression ever of a motor-boat, and before we know it we’re arriving to our destination. Funny, this trip went by fast! Uneventful and easy, just the way I like it.

As the sun comes up we get a peek of the many small islets scattered around. One in particular captures my attention, as it looks like a miniature Molokini island… For a minute I truly believe we’re in Hawaii! Then I yawn and I’m back to my reality, which is just as good.

Mexican Molokini?

It’s precisely 8 o’clock in the morning when we officially enter Bahia San Luis de Gonzaga. There’s no other boat here, we have this beautiful large bay all to ourselves.

Bahia San Luis de Gonzaga in all its splendor

As soon as we’re comfortably settled, Tom goes to sleep while I read/nap in the cockpit. Late in the afternoon we venture to shore. There’s a small, family run hotel and restaurant on the beach, known only to the few guests that come here year after year. It’s really off the beaten path, literally. And the people we talked to were all very concerned about a new road being built nearby that will make this paradise more accessible and therefore less heavenly. Nobody wants mass-tourism here, and I totally understand.

The Hotel and Restaurant - The name will be kept secret...

In his usual easygoing way, Tom is soon engaged in conversation with a bunch of people, all here for a few more days. We learn that one of the beach houses belongs to Malcolm Smith – a motocross legend of recent past -, and Tom is happily yakking with his beautiful and friendly daughter, Ashley.

Soon the group expands to include a bunch of dirt-bike riders, who we later learn to be five firemen from Los Angeles. I enviously ogle their motorcycles, trying to imagine what it would feel like to ride 800 miles on mainly dirt roads… Iron-butt, anyone? 

Watching yet another spectacular sunset we enjoy one of the tastiest dinners in history: heavy on the garlic, butter-fried shrimp on a bed of rice, with refried beans and salad. Oh, man! I’m stuffed… Roll me back to the boat…

View from the restaurant, overlooking the Bay and Camelot

The Bay of San Luis de Gonzaga