Isla Cedros
Log Book
- Departure time: 12:00 n on Sunday, December 9, 2012
- Arrival time: 6:30 pm on Wednesday, December 12, 2012
- Total travel time: 3 days and 6.5 hours
- Nautical miles traveled: 252
- Engine hours start – end – logged: 883 – 904 – 21
- Gallons of diesel start – end – used: 30 – 22 – 8
- Weather: The forecast predicted winds from the W/NW from 5-10 knots for the majority of the trip, with 5-6 foot swell from the NW.
This was a fantastic leg, primarily because we decided to take it slow and actually sail. We have spent a lot of time (and money) motoring down the coast either because we were running from weather or had someplace to be, preferably by nightfall, and the wind wasn’t with us. This was also our longest leg to date, 252 miles, and from what we read fuel can be somewhat difficult to come by along this coast.
We left Ensenada around noon. It was nice to not feel rushed in the morning, especially since we had taken advantage of two-for-one margaritas at Hussongs Cantina the night before and spent the night catching up. Funny how you can live in a tiny space with someone for months and still feel the need to catch up from time to time. Reflect on it all, the good, the bad, the magical, the frustrating, the downright hilarious.
The wind was blowing pretty good on our nose out of the west when we left the harbor. We were excited to raise sails once we turned the corner at Punta Banda, but of course the wind promptly died as soon as we raised them. So we drifted. We drifted for hours, not sure how many hours exactly, but by nightfall we had maybe moved 8 miles…on a 250 mile leg. It was a practice of patience for me. We were looking at the same point for hours on end, moving past it ever so slowly.
The wind gradually picked up later that night and we finally got moving, albeit still slowly, our max speed was 3.4 knots (that’s less than 3.4 mph folks). We were glad to be making some progress without the aid of the motor.
The trip mostly went like this:
Bob in the water for most of the day, letting the current slowly take us South at 1, maybe 2 knots. Read our books, talk, wash dishes, chill out. When there was enough wind to even ruffle our flag we would raise the genoa (our big sail, she also goes by genny [pronounced jenny]) and the main. We got remarkably good at raising and lowering the sails by ourselves. With the sails up, we would stumble through the swell at 3, maybe 4 knots depending on the strength of the wind.
During the day the wind would usually be less than 5 knots, sometimes up to 10. The wind would increase at night, which is when we made the most progress. Some nights it got all the way up to 15. At times the wind was schizophrenic, changing from N to NE to E to N to NW. We were able to sail with either a broad reach or wing on wing the entire trip down. When the wind died in the morning, we’d take down the sails and start the process all over again.
Night watch was amazing, we both started to look forward to it. Without any lights to obscure them, the stars were bright and ubiquitous. I stopped counting the number of shooting stars I witnessed. The phosphorescence was other worldly. Big bands of light where schools of fish moved in unison were interrupted by glowing torpedoes of light conjured by dolphins. It was like I was transported to a Lisa Frank folder cover. I used to think those folders were a gross over exaggeration of the beauty of the sea, I’m pleased to discover I was wrong about that.
One night I came up to relieve Jeff at about 3am and he was grinning from ear to ear – a contagious sort of smile.
“How’s it going?” I asked.
Still smiling he pulled his earbuds out, I hadn’t seen them. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.”
“What are you listening to?”
“The Gattaca soundtrack. It’s amazing.” That explained the smile.
As we eased into our floating schedule we started to add new activities to our repertoire. My activity of choice was baking…banana bread in particular. A very rewarding and delicious activity. We also started a book club. Our first book was The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides, a modern take on a Victorian plot. Next on the list is World War Z by Max Brooks, a retelling of the zombie apocalypse from those who “survived it.” Jeff chose the first two, I get to choose the third.
On the last day the wind completely died, so we turned on the motor to get us the rest of the way to Cedros Island. Without much wind it was warm. We stripped down and sunbathed on the foredeck and watched the sun as it ducked behind the mountains on the island. Isla Cedros was much bigger than we expected and it took us several hours to get to the village, which was in the Southeastern corner.
We entered the harbor at night, following the navigation lights (a well lit entrance) and dropped anchor in 14 feet of water (sand). It was calm, no motion from the ocean made it’s way into the harbor.
We inflated the dinghy and headed into town for dinner. Tonita Taqueria was our taqueria of choice. We grabbed some saltines and beer from the grocery store and passed on the “fresh” produce. It was brown at best. Two interesting observations – there were a ridiculous number of clothing stores (for a town of not that many people) and most of the women wore velour track suits. Love it.