Leaving San Jose del Cabo
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- Departure time: 4:30pm on Friday, December 28
- Arrival time: 3:00am on Saturday, December 29
- Total travel time: 10.5 hours
- Nautical miles travelled: 35 nm
- Engine hours start – end – logged: 941.7 – 949 – 7.3
- Gallons of diesel start – end – used: 29.4 – 26.4 – 3
- Weather: The forecast predicted 10-15 knots from the N/NW with waves 2-4 feet in height.
I don’t know why I started to think that tides and currents would have a greater influence on Serenity as soon as we turned the corner into the Sea of Cortez.* When we were sailing on the Columbia or in the Puget Sound the tides and currents dictated most of our decisions (at least when we were actually taking a trip as opposed to day sailing). The moon was FULL the night prior, so full that its light lured us out of the cabin to ogle it. Full moons usually equate to strong(er) tides.
In order to reap the (perceived) benefits of the current around the East Cape we wanted to leave at slack tide before the flood. I thought for sure that the flood would carry us up into the bay, like a feather on a updraft. Unfortunately the slack before the flood was early in the morning (we’re talking 4:30am) or later in the afternoon around 4:30pm. When I failed to properly set my alarm clock and we awoke at 6:30am instead of 4:30am, that made the decision for us. It was probably for he best since the wind was still blowing pretty good.
Boat projects dominated our agenda that day. All little things, but it’s amazing how long the little things can take. Before too long the whole day had nearly passed and 4:30 was closing in on us.
The seas were choppy when we started the trip, but not terribly steep, and the wind was mellow, almost nonexistent. Any benefit we received from the current was barely perceptible, though we were going about 5 knots even as we climbed the waves. Did the current help us? We may never know. One of the great mysteries of our time.
As we neared the East Cape the wind picked up, right on our nose of course, and the seas were stacked. Our pace with the motor became sluggish. When we booted up the GPS we came to find that we were moving through molasses seas at a whopping 2.5 knots. At this point it was nearly 10:30pm and we still had at least 18 miles to go – we were hoping to be to port by midnight, but we were quickly recasting that as a pipe dream.
“Who’s brilliant idea was this?” I inquired, listening intently for forgiveness in Jeff’s laughter.
We raised the sails by the light of the moon and our headlamps. Nighttime has a tendency to amplify the chaos on deck. We started with a reefed main, but shook it out after we realized the winds weren’t nearly as strong as we first imagined.
The wind was blowing from the Northwest at about 12-14 knots. We tacked upwind for 12.5 miles (2.5 hours), crashing headlong into waves, making about 5 knots.
So this is what sailing in the Sea of Cortez is like, we came to realize.
As the winds calmed down we opted to take a more direct route to Bahia Frailes and motored the rest of the way. The bay was full of boats – six, seven or eight, it’s hard to remember. We picked a spot close to shore west of the boats at anchor and dropped the hook (26 feet, sand). It was at least 3:30am by the time we were all settled and ready for sleep.
I wish I knew more about all the forces at play above and below the surface of the water here. Our speed fluctuated significantly on this leg and I honestly have no idea why. What piece of the puzzle am I missing?
*Turns out that the current has a more noticeable influence on certain areas, such as small passages that funnel water and wind. The Cerralvo Channel (Canal Cerralvo) is one of these places as well as San Lorenzo Channel (Canal San Lorenzo), which are both en route to La Paz.