SAILING CAMELOT

It’s visitors’ time on Camelot! Last night, while enjoying some really great company, Tom loosely extended an open invitation to everyone present to come spend some time aboard our boat, just for a different perspective on life. 

Charles and David goofin' off on Camelot

Later Tom makes a few trips ashore to pick up other friends. We get Charles and David in the morning and the LA Firemen group in the afternoon. What a pleasant, laid back and relaxing day!

My Eye Candy! From left: Mario, Bruce, Brandon and Al. Louie is missing...

Mario carrying vital supplies while Brandon watches his back

Everyone is so appreciative for the chance to spend some time on Camelot. It makes me reflect that yes, indeed, we live a special life! I occasionally forget…

Mario (left) and Bruce (right) blissfully relaxing in Paradise

We end the day having another fantastic dinner all together, saying our good-byes and exchanging good wishes. It was great to find this bunch of friendly, awesome guys. 

LAFD Finest, leaving Camelot at the end of the day

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

With all synapses properly firing and all senses alert after a good, long night of deep sleep we’re ready to scout the territory. True to his word, Craig picks us up in the morning and takes us downtown for breakfast –first things first!-.

Downtown Puerto Penasco is colorful and much more modern than I anticipated, most buildings look brand new. This small city of 45,000, based on tourism and fishing (mainly shrimp), is clearly in the midst of a development boom. Right now is low season and very quiet, but we’re told that this place gets packed with tourists especially at Spring Break and Easter. The closest U.S. border is only 60 miles away, and it’s a three hour drive from here to Phoenix or Tucson – Arizona.

After an excellent and abundant breakfast Craig takes us for an extensive tour of the area. We discover that Puerto Penasco -also known as Rocky Point- spreads out far and wide; there are multiple resorts and luxury condo buildings, grocery stores big enough to satisfy the average Gringo, every service you can think of, and lots of night clubs, restaurants, souvenir
shops. As a matter of fact, walking the malecon (main street) reminds me a little bit of Puerto Vallarta on a much smaller scale.

The Malecon - Downtown

Monument to the Shrimpers

The gorgeous Plaza

It’s smoldering hot and quite humid, we’re sweating by the pint. Craig proposes a brilliant and refreshing way to spend the afternoon: go to one of a few Pool Bars in town!

So he takes us to the Pink Cadillac Pool Bar, where we spend the rest of the day in total bliss: the boys chatting away while marinating in the pool, me spread out in the sun reading my book. Excellent cheeseburgers were consumed at the bar while sitting in the water. They truly make you feel welcome here!

Slow Day at the Pink Cadillac Pool Bar

The Pool complete with Toys

Relaxing by Pool

Thanks and cheers to Craig for being such a gracious host and an attentive friend.

On Sunday morning we move Camelot to the end tie at Marina Fonatur, a much better solution with much less traffic. Monday is entirely devoted to boat cleaning and maintenance, poor Camelot was caked in dust and salt. It’s extremely hot, so we work a little and rest a lot…

Shrimpers in the Harbor - The Mast on the right belongs to Camelot! See the bow?

The Fleet moored behind us

Neighbors Up Close

By now Tom has made fast friends all around the Marina. He knows each Fonatur guy by name, they come down to the boat for beers at the end of the day. Tom’s Spanish is markedly improving! Or maybe the beers make the language barrier abate…

Tom's New Friends: Eduardo to the left and Marcos to the right

Tom with another friend: Rigoberto, the Security Guard

We explained to our friends about our need to ride up to the border to renew our Visas, and sure enough there’s a firend of a friend who owns a taxi and is willing to take us for a modest sum. We meet Javier, another super friendly and very reliable guy, who becomes our chauffeur for the rest of our stay here.

Tuesday morning Javier drives us to the border town of Sonoyta, 60 miles thru the desert in a straight line. We’re there in an hour. The formalities of renewing our Visas take just about 20 minutes; every single person we meet in the office is courteous, friendly and genuinely impressed by our lifestyle. Everybody wishes us safe travels and good luck, and with their
blessings still ringing in our ears we depart this colorful little town. Another tedious hour-long drive is made a little better by the copious amount of chocolate I brought for the trip. We all chomp on Snicker bars contentedly and before we know it we’re back In Puerto Penasco. By the way, the town is getting ready to celebrate their Independence Day (September 16^th); the festivities will start on Thursday evening and last throughout the weekend. FIESTA!

All around little stalls are being erected; there will be food, clothing, souvenirs, local artifacts, flags and much more.

Wednesday is devoted to massive grocery shopping at the local, very well stocked supermarket. We’re thrilled to discover that food prices are very reasonable, and ecstatic to finally find steaks cut thick, the way we like them!

Javier is our shining star, patiently waiting for us and providing support. He also helps us unload and transport the groceries to the boat, well beyond his call of duty. He shyly admits that he’s curious to see Camelot, so Tom shows him around like a proud Papa. Lots of uuhhh and aaahhh follow, then Javier says that he wants to present us with a gift before we depart, to send us off with his blessing: a load of Tamales made by his wife.

For those who don’t know them, here’s a quick Tamales description courtesy of Wikipedia:

“A tamale is a traditional Latin American dish made of masa -a starchy dough, usually corn-based-, which is steamed or boiled in a leaf wrapper. The wrapping is discarded before
eating. Tamales can be further filled with meats, cheese, vegetables, chilies or any preparation according to taste, and both the filling and the cooking liquid may be seasoned. Tamales were one of the staples found by the Spanish Conquistadors when they first arrived in Mexico and were soon widely spread throughout their other colonies. Tamales are said to have been as ubiquitous and varied as the sandwich is today.^”

Tom is crazy about Tamales, and I certainly don’t shy away from them! So we’re more than grateful for his offer, and are salivating in anticipation.

Sure enough, on Thursday morning Javier arrives to our boat with his wife Emma, a very spirited young woman with sparkling eyes and a ready smile, carrying a load of fragrant, freshly made Tamales. They can only stay a few minutes, so I show Camelot to a very curious Emma. As it usual happens with visiting women, she’s most impressed by my on-board washing machine.

As they take their leave, we hug and profusely thank them, accepting their well wishes for our upcoming trip. What a great couple!

As soon as they leave, I already, shamelessly have a Tamale in each hand – beating Tom by a good three minutes…  I just couldn’t wait, what can I say…  And boy, are they GOOD!!! 

Hot Tamales by Emma! Yum Yum...

We’re approaching our destination -Puerto Penasco- and the wind is blowing stronger and stronger, so we take down the sails to gain better
maneuverability and avoid flying into the high-rise vacation condos along the beach.

We’re at the entrance of the Marina at 8 o’clock sharp.

Getting into port is a little harrowing, especially with extra-angry winds, a really low tide and eyes blurred by lack of sleep. But as always, Tom delivers. He creeps towards the port entrance very carefully, eyes glued to the depth sounder.

Despite all the caution, the depth sounder reads 5.6 feet (Camelot wing keel draws 5.10); we know we’re shoveling the bottom –soft mud, thankfully, we just don’t know where this sandbar ends. It takes a little finagling, but we finally find the channel. Oh, did I mention there are no buoys, no markers, nothing to guide us in? At least we’re protected from the
wind, now.

There’s also a Mexican Navy Base here and their Marching Band is rehearsing, so we enter the Harbor with great fanfare.

Talk about extreme: they have tidal ranges of 20 feet here!

Water level rising

A few days ago I went thru the pointless exercise of whipping out the Sat Phone to call Marina Puerto Penasco and secure a berth (“sure, no problem, come on up!”) and what do you know, now that we’re here there’s no space available. So we’re spinning lazy circles, trying to figure out what to do, when a guy on the dock hollers and points to an open end-tie. We dock there and wait for the Marina office to open at 9.

Camelot at the Fuel Dock

This is a small and mainly commercial port, almost entirely occupied by about 80 big fishing vessels and maybe 30 pleasure crafts between sailboats and motorboats. There are three small Marinas, hopefully we can find a berth, right?

It wasn’t this calm when we arrived!)

It’s a fishing Harbor with entire fleets of shrimpers

As it turns out, the sweet spot we’re tied up to is rented out to an excursion/diving boat that leaves on Sundays and returns on Fridays.
Today is Friday, so we need to vacate the space before long. But the very friendly staff at the Marina Fonatur comes to the rescue. After placing a few phone calls they manage to find us another end-tie at the commercial Marina where we can stay until Sunday. The guys even drive us to the place to see in person if the berth is acceptable! We’re so grateful and very impressed by the friendly courtesy. After a quick look, Tom decides that yes, he can squeeze Camelot in there. After all it’s only for a couple of days, until we can return to the other, much more comfortable slip that will be vacated for the week.

Within minutes we’re ready to move. As I hold my breath Tom inches Camelot between a big private motor yacht and a huge fishing vessel, until we are docked. We have less than a foot of space between boats.  How the hell does Tom manage to work this kind of miracles is beyond me, but we’re in! We’re safely moored at –how funny!- the Safe Marina (I swear, that’s the name).

I can exhale, now…

We’re camouflaged, but we’re in there somewhere!

Later on, the guy who was hollering from the dock trying to help us comes by the boat. We get to meet Craig, an American who has a sailboat on the opposite dock. Craig proves to be one of the nicest guys on earth, sharing information about the port and the town and even offering to take us for a tour of Puerto Penasco by car. We enthusiastically accept his generous offer, but postpone the tour until tomorrow. Right now, all we both need is a good, solid nap.

We reach the picturesque anchorage of Puerto Refugio,  located at the far Northern tip of Isla Angel de La Guarda, after a six-hour,  33 miles trip. It would have been nice to sail but there was no wind to speak  of.

We didn’t encounter any other boat, and the white sail I’ve  been tracking at a distance for hours turned out to be a rock! Roca Vela, to be precise (Sail Rock). Tom was already suggesting I need new glasses and an eye  check… But I’m told everybody falls for that illusion, so there!

Roca Vela - Sail Rock

Rounding the tip of Isla Angel De La Guarda

I start to perk up once we got closer to our destination. Sighting land is a feast for the eyes;  we trade blues for reds and flat, shiny waters for hills peppered with cacti.

The Incredibly Red Hills

Valley Of The Cacti

Isla Angel de La Guarda (quite narrow and 42 miles long) is  known as the Guardian Angel of the Sea of Cortez, sitting smack in the middle  and serving as a buffer for the winds and waves that can get pretty intense up  here.

Lucky for us conditions upon arrival are absolutely calm and  favorable, so we claim a prime spot in our new neighborhood, Puerto Refugio.

View from our stern - Piedra Blanca

Amazing view from our Bow

There are three or four secluded and separated little bays to anchor in. We’re all alone in our chosen spot, but there’s another solitary  sailor in another cove – Captain JJ on sailing vessel Ocean Echo -.  We exchange  greetings and pleasantries over the radio, and end up passing by his boat  during one of our “dinghy-safari”.

Cactus Island!

Islets of Puerto Refugio

The northern part of the Sea is the most infrequently visited area by cruisers so that’s pretty much the only contact with humans we get up here, which is fine by me; so much to see, so many pictures to shoot, I  welcome the solitude.

About a mile in front of our anchorage there’s a small  island –Isla Granito-, entirely inhabited by seals and sea lions. When the wind blows just right we hear quite a ruckus, as they’re very vocal.

Sea lions on the beach of Isla Granito

Camelot at anchor in front of Isla Granito

We just had to go take a peek, and were not disappointed.

It's not over until the Fat Lady sings!

Happily Frolicking

There are hundreds of barking seals, some frolic in the water, others lay on the rocks sunning and snoozing.

Mothers defend their young, big males (called bulls) fight for turf. Very entertaining and a little unnerving!

The weather is perfect, a little hot and humid at times, nothing that a dip in the vast pool in our “backyard” can’t cure. The water is very clear, there’s at least 25 feet visibility. Since we are in the water so much for cooling purposes, it makes sense to also take advantage of the water clarity to give Camelot’s bottom a good and much needed cleaning. Tom takes care
of the big belly while I scrub the flanks. There, she’s good as new! And I bet she’ll sail a bit faster, too…

The Arch

We only stay In Puerto Refugio four days, though I could have easily stayed four weeks. But we’re on some sort of schedule, we have a mission to accomplish.
Our visas are expiring soon, so the plan is to travel further north and to the “other side“of the Sea where the USA border is only an hour’s drive away.

If the need to worship strikes you...

You can find a chapel even here!

We leave at 15:20 on Thursday the 8^th, motoring for hours, chasing the ever-elusive wind. At dusk we finally get enough breeze to justify raising the sails. It’s a smooth trip and we make good speed. It’s been a while since we did an overnighter and I’m thoroughly enjoying myself. We pick up passengers along the way, too! A small bird lands on the lifelines,
breathless and ruffled. It looks a bit like a sparrow and reminds me of Woodstock, the bird from the Peanuts (you know, Charlie Brown and gang). A few minutes later a booby that’s been circling the boat for a while gracefully lands on the port spreader, unfazed by the raised sail, and promptly starts preening and grooming. All night it stays perched there, quiet company I’m grateful for. By the time dawn breaks, we have one booby on the spreader, Woodstock on one side, four more sparrow-looking birds (Woodstock’s brothers?) on the other side and another booby crouched on the deck towards the bow.

At sunrise they all leave Camelot – now also known as The Avian Express.

Couldn't leave this one out...

Today we move from Bahia Los Angeles to one of the many islands scattered around the Bay. It’s a very short hop; Isla La Ventana is not even 3 miles away.

Isla Ventana (The Window Island) gets its name from a very characteristic rock arch that somewhat resembles -what else!- a window.

La Ventana - The Window

The other side of La Ventana

We claim our spot and soon Camelot is comfortably nested in the small bay. We’re the only boat anchored here; it’s so nice to have the place all to ourselves!

Occasionally, however, the peace gets disrupted by the random Panga bringing a bunch of loud tourists to visit the beach for a few hours. Also the fishermen -the ones that stay out all night to fish for squid- drive their Pangas to the beach at the crack of dawn, finding a quiet spot to do their fish cleaning before taking their catch to the market.

A few words about squid: this particular area of the Sea of Cortez is home to the Humboldt Squid.

They are very aggressive, hunt in schools of 1200 and can move at speeds up to 13 knots. They travel at depths of 2300 feet during the day, coming to the surface at night to feed. They can grow up to 6 feet in length, reaching a weight of about 100 lbs. They have the ability of changing colors instantly and many scientists believe this to be a complex form of communication. They go from dark red-brown to white in a fraction of a second, appearing as a flash. Because of this ability and their aggressive feeding nature (they also eat other injured squid), local fishermen call this squid El Diablo Rojo (Red Devil). The Pangueros fish for this squid using hand lines, very hard and dangerous work. It is said that at least one fisherman a month is lost to the Humboldt Squid.

Obviously, swimming at night in this area (or falling off the boat) is not recommended…

Cactus with a Twist?

The Avian Song And Dance Show

Isla Ventana lies in the heart of Bahia de Los Angeles and is surrounded by a handful of smaller island, absolutely perfect for dinghy excursions, prompting us to quickly deploy our colorful craft and zoom off to explore.

The first thing we notice is that this place is Avian Paradise, absolutely packed with birds. I have never seen so many different kinds in such a small place! And of course in most instances I don’t even know what I’m looking at, but that doesn’t prevent me from being mesmerized by what I see.

I have no idea what kind of bird this is...

... but it sure is pretty!

On day two of our stay we set up for a dinghy circumnavigation of this small island, a very pleasant task easily accomplished in less than two hours. We also visit three other neighboring islets, all of them hosting contingents of birds.

Hmmm, I wonder if my nail polish is dry yet...

Oh, I'm SO going to get you!

We spend three very quiet days here, basically just enjoying the peace. We read, we swim, we eat and we sleep -not necessarily in that order. Our stress level is non-existent!

After only three days we both get a little restless: Tom starts missing the company of his friends still parked in Bahia Los Angeles and I want to try to use the Internet Café’ there. Also, there is a party scheduled for August 31st and we would have to return anyway.

What has Blue Feet and a Black Mask?

A Blue Footed Booby!

Amazingly beautiful and graceful in flight

So on Monday 29th, having fully satisfied our need for solitude and exploration, we take the very brief trip back to Bahia de Los Angeles.

Pic 15

It’s only 8 miles from the relative civilization of Bahia de Los Angeles, and yet it feels so much more remote.

Isla Coronado/Smith is the largest island in the Bahia de Los Angeles area, easily recognizable even from afar by its volcano (thankfully inactive at this time), rising 1,554 foot from the

The very distinctive volcano, visible from quite a distance

And here it is up close!

Isla Mitlan is a tiny, mostly barren island that sits right in front of the bigger island of Isla Coronado (also known as Isla Smith). We take anchorage in the narrow channel separating the two islands.

Our front view for a couple of days - depending on currents

Amazingly colorful rock!

Not much else to do here but to take in the wild beauty and listen to the birds scream. Or climb the volcano –not a chance, not in this heat!
As usual we take our “get to know the place” dinghy tour.

Camelot dwarfed by the giant

Between a Rock and a Hard Place!

We stay here only a couple of days, long enough to see some friends nestled in a neighboring bay and continue the Four O’Clock Swim tradition. It’s a truly refreshing way to say good-bye and part ways!

We’ve been roaming Bahia de Los Angeles for the past four weeks. Tomorrow we leave to go see more of the fantastic Sea Of Cortez, it’s time to go further North and closer to the “other side” –near the mainland.

Adios, Bahia de Los Angeles and all of your splendid islands. We’ll be back in a few weeks to make sure we haven’t missed anything…

Leaving Mitlan, an unforgettable view

A lot of boats -22, I believe- are anchored in front of the Village at Bahia de Los Angeles.

We are all gathered here for yet another Party, this time to honor the service provided by the HAM Radio Net Controller –of which Tom is one-.

Bahia de Los Angeles, we're baaaack!

A HAM Radio Net allows you to keep in touch with your fellow cruisers and lets you know where everyone is at any given time. It starts with a Roll Call; all cruisers sign in giving their boat’s name and call sign, their position, status and weather information at their location.

It’s a great service that makes everybody feel more secure, knowing that in case of trouble you’re not alone and youl have someone to rely on for help or assistance.

Every day of the week a kind soul volunteers to initiate and direct the Radio Net, acting like a traffic controller. Tom has the Monday shift on the Sonrisa Net.

The Net Controller Party is scheduled for Wednesday 31^st; we convene at Guillermo’s Restaurant, right on the beach of Los Angeles. It’s a very nice and simple reunion, a chance to put a face to a voice, to talk about your radio setup and to socialize. There’s an inexhaustible supply of hot dogs with all the trimmings, pasta salads, potato salads, cakes and desserts., which
everyone thoroughly enjoyed.

Tom arriving at the party

The days before and after the Party are spent visiting with other cruisers, exchanging books, relaxing and above all religiously attending the traditional Four O’Clock Swim. This is the most fun one can get daily. Everybody meets at someone’s boat –we all alternate being host of the day-, we park our dinghies behind it and jump in the water. There we float, swim, chat, laugh, catch up, exchange information, make plans and generally have a blast for about an hour or two. Or until we’re all “pruned up”, thoroughly pickled.

This monster was swimming beside Camelot just before our Four O'Clock Swim

The Four O'Clock Swim group, undeterred by the Whale Shark

He sure was a curious one!

He really liked to hang around our boat!

On Sep 1^st a big contingent of cruisers, 20 of us, decides to go visit the local pizza parlor –called Pizza Italia. The place is owned and run by Mauro -a very nice Italian man from Rome- and his family.
We almost overwhelmed his place, I’m sure he’s never seen such a crowd all at once. But he stepped up to the challenge, serving excellent pizza, lasagna, bread to dip in olive oil. We all greatly enjoyed our dinners, and everyone walked away with one of Mauro’s wonderful loaves of bread.

As soon as it got dark Tom and I left the group to go back to the boat. Along the way we noticed huge clouds and some lightning activity on the far side of the Sea. Nothing too unusual, but somehow Tom’s instinct kicked in. He insisted on returning to Camelot in a hurry and I agreed, because I never question his gut feelings –which so far have proved right every time.

In fact, we barely had time to cover the distance from beach to boat, a little over a mile, when the wind started howling and screaming. Our very first Chubasco! For those not familiar with the name, Chubasco is a very sudden, intensely strong wind that also agitates the sea, occurs at night and can last from an hour to the whole night.

Nothing much you can do when that happens: you just put away everything that can go flying, secure your dinghy, check your anchor hold often and just sit it out, which is exactly what we did until about 3 am. We saw wind speeds of 45 knots, but gusts of 55 knots were also reported.

It was our first encounter with the feared Chubasco, and it was harrowing. We just sat in the cockpit nervously watching our surroundings and listening to the chatter on the radio. The rest of our dinner companions left the restaurant a while after us and some were caught by the wind as they were returning to their boats, so for a while the radio traffic consisted of
the same calls repeated over and over. “Are you guys back? Are you OK?”. Like a big family checking on its members. Everyone was fine, no one got hurt; the boats -the anchors-all held their ground.

Of course the next morning the boat was covered in dust, but that’s a small price to pay. I know it could get worse than that. I’m just glad we were safely tucked in a protected anchorage among friends. So, as a first Chubasco experience, it wasn’t too bad.

Friday Sep 2^nd we picked up a few more supplies at the grocery store and I spent FOUR hours at the Internet Café’. It was a very slow and extremely frustrating experience. The Internet here is via satellite and it’s not very reliable, slow and often dropping the signal altogether. I’m not complaining, but four hours to load just one post of our blog tested my patience to the limit. So I gave up, which is why I’m catching up only now.

Until two years ago this small village relied on generators for electricity, and only recently it has been connected to “the grid”. As per cell phones, well, cell towers have been installed but not yet turned on, so there’s no cell phone service either. Again, I’m not complaining, just stating the facts. We came up here for the wilderness and have not been disappointed
one bit. Honestly, finding an Internet Café’ blew my mind.

Tomorrow I’ll get a chance to restore my fragile mental balance: we’ll be escaping to yet another deserted island.

Hasta luego, everybody!

By now we’re the last boat left in La Mona, and my supplies of fresh vegetables and some other staples are dwindling. We move to the anchorage in front of the village of Bahia de Los Angeles, just a little over 30 minutes away.

Another pretty place! When I say pretty I don’t mean touristic, no palm trees swaying or shimmering swimming pools here… It’s more of a primitive prettiness. The colorful buildings, the improbable landmarks, the four-lane highway running through the village while every other road is basically a dirt path, huge skulls and partial skeleton of whales displayed as yard ornaments, everything gives this place a very singular flavor. This is a true, small Mexican beach town.

Bahia de Los Angeles - The Village

On our first foray into the village we go to the Town Hall/Police Station to obtain a permit to offload our trash. For boaters, accumulating trash along the way, it’s always a great relief to find a place to properly dispose of it. For the paltry sum of 30 Pesos (less than $3) we purchase the right to get rid of our garbage for a whole month. Yippeee! To celebrate we have lunch at Guillermo’s, a small restaurant on the beach. Great food, if a little on the expensive side, but our waiter is a total comedian.
Ishmael also speaks Italian, so he makes fun of us in three languages. Nicest guy, really.

The second trip ashore is devoted to grocery shopping. About three blocks from the beach we find our store, surprisingly well stocked and (not surprisingly) more expensive than average – given that everything has to be trucked down here. We’re basically in the middle of nowhere and here’s a place that has everything you need and Diet Cokes, too!

We load a shopping cart to the max and at check-out I ask the very nice cashier if she could please call for a taxi.  “There is no taxi service in the village”, she tells me. Oh, no! I’m about to ask her if we can borrow the shopping cart, picturing a slow and melting death for myself -walking three blocks in this torrid heat-, while she rattles a quick series of orders to her husband. After bagging our hefty purchases, she beams and motions us towards the exit, where a middle aged gentleman is waiting to take us to our destination. I give her my best Mexican blessings, gratitude and thanks blurting out of my mouth. These people saved me from certain death! Tom is grinning, like he just knew all along that some kind soul would step in to help us. Does he have psychic powers I know nothing about???

We load out bags in the bed of an old and battered pick-up truck, littered with remains of construction materials; mortar, bricks, gravel and tools are swept aside to make room for Tom. Yes, while I travel in comfort, Tom rides with the load, the grin never leaving his face. Looks like he’s having fun!

Our kind savior’s name is Mareno (it means Of The Sea, he explains). He’s in his sixties, a fisherman, builder, jack of all trades, I guess – whatever it takes to bring food to his family. We get to the beach in less than five minutes and quickly unload our groceries. We profusely thank Mareno for his kindness, Tom offers him a small tip for his trouble, but he refuses, embarrassed, saying “ No, I’m OK, I have plenty of work, thank you”. “Let me at least buy you a cerveza” Tom insists, finally managing to convince this gentle man to accept the small tip. Smiles and friendly greeting over, we load up our dinghy and make our way back to Camelot. It’s a hell of a chore to transfer multiple bags plus three flats of Diet Coke (72 cans in total!) from dinghy to boat; by the time we’re done we’re dizzy with dehydration and completely drenched in sweat. But it’s done! After putting away the perishables in the fridge we both take a dive in the cooling waters of the Bay. The rest we’ll tackle later…

Partial skeleton of a whale

Enormous skull!

This is one of the vertebrae. They are often used as seats.

With provisioning completed, now all we have to do is relax and enjoy. We take a couple more trips to shore, to visit the Internet Café and to take a good last look around and take a few more pictures, making sure we didn’t miss anything.

Sunday is spent swimming with the Whale Sharks again, as they are just hanging out close to our boat. There are three of them; the biggest is the most curious, ogling Tom at an angle as they swim together.

My fearless husband, swimming with the Whale Shark

This fish was more than twice Tom's size

One of the small ones decides to come rub himself against the dinghy, almost sending me swimming. Apart from their intimidating size, these animals are as docile and calm as an old household dog. Despite that, I still retain a healthy respect that makes me keep my distance…

The Big Kid

This guy was scratching its head against my dinghy as I was taking picures. An invitation maybe?

Mouth wide open to feed. And here I was thinking he was smiling at me...

For some reason, this guy liked to hang around Camelot, right under a solar panel.

Today – Monday- is our last day in town.  We visit the village one last time, stopping at the Internet Café to get our cyber fix. We won’t have another chance for months, better take advantage…

Tomorrow -Tue 23^rd – we’ll leave to go explore the Island scattered between the Baja Peninsula and the Mainland.

We’ll be quiet again for a while, but you can bet we’ll be having fun! 

We were the last boat to leave Ensenada Quemado. I’d have liked to stay longer, but this time we need to be somewhere at a specific time: an actual commitment, I can barely believe it! Somewhat reluctantly we head to a new place. Bahia de Los Angeles – a short hop, really just around the corner- welcomes us with heavy winds and a gorgeous view. Oh, my! There are sixteen sailboats and a power boat already anchored here. Quite a shock, after weeks of almost total seclusion!

La Mona Beach

Beach Houses

Morning Visitors

Bahia de Los Angeles is very large and there are many beaches and coves. Right now we are anchored at La Mona Beach.

Warning to my Italian friends: STOP SNICKERING!

Explanation to everyone else: the name La Mona, in the dialect spoken in the Venetian region, is associated with a very intimate part of the female anatomy. In the colorful Italian custom (at least in the Veneto region), when you want to tell someone to get lost in quite a rude way, you send them to –you guessed it- La Mona!

Well, here I finally am! I hope you’re happy, for I certainly am… I hope you enjoyed this little insight on Venetian folklore, but let’s get back on track.

Why are we here? For starters, it’s another spectacular spot on the Sea of Cortez; it’s also home to Whale Sharks, present here in higher numbers than anywhere else in the world.

The main reason, however, is a party that Tom has been looking forward to attending for a long time.

The Full Moon Party is held annually in Bahia de Los Angeles, specifically at La Mona Beach, to celebrate the adventurous (and foolish?) cruisers that venture this far out in the Sea of Cortez, braving the extreme heat and taking their chances with the sporadic presence of various windstorms bearing curious names. The Elephantes, the Chubascos and others are very strong winds that whip out of nowhere, usually at night, and howl at anywhere between 25 and 50 knots. Each windstorm has peculiar characteristics and origins, so individual to warranty a specific name. So far we’ve been lucky, but it’s only a matter of time…

Dolphins!!!

Flipper!

The Full Moon Party is held this year on August 15th.

It’s a very simple and very pleasant gathering. At around 6:30 pm we all converge on the beach, our dinghies parked in a colorful row at the waterline.

Each participant has prepared some special dish to share for the Potluck Dinner, and what a treat that was! An overturned canoe serves as a makeshift buffet table loaded with containers of gourmet foods, from entrees to desserts, all equally delicious.

We all sit around, cheerfully chomping on some delicacy, little groups forming here and there. Some sing, some tell stories, some gather around a pit fire roasting S’Mores, everyone having a blast. We all catch up with each other, sharing itineraries and information, hugs and future plans.

This year, we lucky participants also got to see the International Space Station crossing the sky right after sunset, at about 8:30 pm. Truly a great party to remember for a long time!

The next day the occupancy rate at La Mona Cove goes from 16 to 4 boats, most everyone resuming their travels. But not us! This place is too peaceful and wonderful to leave just yet, and we need to go see some Whale Sharks.

By 10 in the morning we’re in our trusted dinghy armed with water, camera, straw hats, snorkeling gear, and a wide, expectant grin. There have been frequent and daily sightings of the gentle giants, so we’re hopeful .

We cross the wide bay for a long time, enjoying the sight of big groups of silver fish with a neon-blue tail, a big sea turtle, dolphins cavorting, Devil Rays jumping, but no Whale Sharks. We continue combing the bay for about another hour, still no luck. Oh, well. It’s getting really hot, so we decide to return to Camelot and go for a refreshing swim. And what do you know; right there, swimming lazy circles between us and another boat is a very young Whale Shark! Buddy, we’ve been looking for you everywhere for about two hours!

Whale Shark looming...

Tom dives in, determined to go swim with the kid. He (or she) is only about 15 feet long and is full of energy, swimming much faster than its older relatives, plainly enjoying life. By the time I get ready to join the party, he (or she) is gone. Bummer, this is the second time Tom gets to play with them while I get left behind… Surely there will be a next time! I’ve got a few more weeks, my time will come…

Adios, La Mona!

What a glorious place it was!