Baja California is not the same as Southern California. Sampaguita left Ensenada at 4:30PM on Tuesday, November 7^th. Not an ideal leaving time with an hour of sunlight left, but we had a couple lessons about Mexican time. First, a common answer here is “mañana.” Second, some agencies run on PST, while others run on DST. For example, the Puerto Capitán’s office closed at 2PM. “But it’s only 1PM?” Not for them. So, that paperwork took until the next morning. Then, the marina’s representative wasn’t in until the afternoon so that’s why we didn’t get all the proper stamps we needed until 4PM on Tuesday. Since I was committed to not paying $50 to stay another eve in the marina, off we went. (The marina was nothing special at all and the harbor water quality is on par with Nome, Alaska’s. That’s a compliment for neither.) It’s a good thing we are accustomed to spending the night at sea. While most things in Ensenada are relatively cheap compared to the States, the marinas, which mostly cater to tourist yatistas, charge California prices. Since anchoring is prohibited in Ensenada, they have you by the rudder.

But off we went and it was fine. Sampaguita spent the next five days and nights at sea traveling south to Isla Cedros. There were some anchorages in between, but we could never seem to get to them at the right times. To early in the day, or too late, to anchor. The days which are now less than twelve hours, just don’t give a slow boat enough time to get from point to point. Three of those nights were dead calms. I would lower the sails and roll and drift (for some of it in the wrong direction because of tidal flow) and endure it until the morning. Two of those nights I was able to sail along quite nicely. The prevailing winds are NW and following which is a big deal. The expression “Fair winds and following seas.” Is based on truth.

Regarding the rolling, that might sound dreadful to most. That’s why I sail alone. Below, in Sampaguita’s settee on the starboard side (the only one she has) it is mitigated by the fact that I sleep low in the boat, just under the waterline. The motion is less there. Step the three feet up into the cockpit and you better be hanging on. Boats with crew greater than one and diesel engines just power up and keep going. That’s not the kind of sailor I am. I could run the outboard, but I don’t do that when I am trying to get some sleep. That sort of engine use has a slew of other considerations that come into play. I’m not on holiday, I’m on expedition, so the work is fine. The other two nights, I got to sail on through. I would slow the boat down so that I was not catapulting across the see at top speed and blind. But it sure was nice to know that you had covered forty miles with a more comfortable motion when the sun rose.

If any of you are appalled at my single-handed ways and consider them inherently dangerous and un-seamanlike, I will not argue with you. But I also will not mind if you don’t go to sea. Show me a sailor who wants to sail like me and that I want to sail with and I will reconsider. Also, I will give you my PayPal address so you can donate gobs of money for a bigger boat with all the bells and whistles. Moving on.

Regarding Mexican nautical charting, Dorothy, you are not in Kansas anymore. These are not the US charts you are accustomed to having a high degree of confidence in. There are many more uncharted navigational hazards, and some info is just wrong. Cases in point, one of the Baja Ha-Ha boats sank entering Bahia Tortuga last week. They were much closer to shore than recommended and they found an uncharted rock. The boat itself is also now a navigational hazard to boot. In the anchorage we’re in now there are uncharted rocks you can see when the tide is low. A very personal experience, I tried to anchor a few miles up the coast from where I am now. I was getting mixed signals from my antiquated depth sounder and the Navionics review of the anchorage. The Navionics charts themselves said there was 26 feet of water. I decided to drop the anchor and see. It went and went and went. 26 feet was more like 26 fathoms. No wonder the depth sounder seemed weird. I made the Herculean effort to get the anchor back on board and learned a very valuable lesson. On the bright side, better too deep than too shallow.

Presently there are nine boats at anchor here. Three of us went to the Puerto Capitán’s office and checked in as is the respectful thing to do. There is no cost and no one is checking up on anyone, but they appreciate the consideration. It was realized that most of the boats did not check in. We also filled out the check out paperwork at the same time, so you go when you go. There is also an official harbor here with a breakwater. That demands a proper check-in and a fee to use. So that is why there is an office to begin with.

The town, I like so far. Small, dusty, friendly, and with no pretense whatsoever. Island lifestyle in an economically depressed country. Perfect. Yes, as is typical of Mexico, there is lots of trash, but I mentioned no pretense, right? That’s the trade off for the uptight Americana I’ve grown weary of. As represented by the trash, they sell both kinds of beer here. Tecate and Tecate Light.

I went down the main street into various markets. There are several for such a small town and they all sell essentially the same thing, which seems odd. I don’t yet know the underlying reasons for this. I went in and strolled through each one, not buying anything until I went to one that felt right. That’s how I’ve become in the last few years. You don’t really need much so why buy from someone you don’t like or who doesn’t feel right. That’s not an American custom, because who has time for that? AKA, the Rat Race.

I did find one. I walked in and exchanged the friendly “Hola” and “Como está.” One young man said “You speak English? He speaks English.” pointing to his compadre. Sure enough, he spoke excellent English. Clearly not from around these here parts. Not that you need to speak English to buy groceries at all. Totally unnecessary. But Charlie, from Mexacali (though his dad was from Pennsylvania), and I had a real proper down to earth conversation, not one about selling me anything. He and his amigo were actually on the island for a two-year addiction recovery work program. They were putting orders together for the weekly resupply delivery from the mainland. His mate, Alex, did not speak much English, but was no less friendly and engaged. A couple other young people came in and were clearly listening to us. And because of this experience, I purchased some goods there and will go there whenever I need anything while in town, or until I’m treated poorly. In America, it seems when you walk into a store people are friendly because they want to sell you something, not just to be friendly. That’s applauded as customer service. It has no depth and their main motive is extraction. Also, if they get too chatty, there boss will harangue them for not staying on target.

As an aside (I noticed this in Greenland too) older people speak much less English than younger people. Younger people are much more exposed to the English language through the internet nowadays. It is not that I prefer to speak in English. I would prefer to enerjita mi Español. But my grasp of it is pocito, so it truly is tedious and difficult to communicate and rewarding conversation it is not, for either side.

Observation 1: It is really difficult to listen to AM radio at anchor. To the kids out there who may not even know what AM radio is (uh, where is that on the internet?) a small transistor radio (uh, what’s a transistor radio?) you have to tune the radio by physically positioning it in an orientation conducive to picking up the signal. But when you are at anchor the boat moves around constantly and the radio goes in and out of tune.

Observation 2: Someday, it will rain. Beginning the first of June, I have been through the Inside Passage and around Vancouver Island, down the West Coast of the US, and now nearly half way down Baja. In those thousands of miles, including the summer layover in Port Townsend, I think I have experienced two days of drizzle. Never in my life have I been so long without experiencing rain. I don’t say this to spurn some diatribe on global warming. I am neither an environmentalist nor an anti-environmentalist and I am put-off by the hypocrisy of everyone I hear from both sides. No, all Sampaguita and I want is a little extra water for bathing and washing up.

Observation 3: Both at Ensenada and on Isla Cedros, beer is sold by the single. For example, here, it is 19 pesos for a single can of Tecate. About $1 US. If you want a 6-pack, you pay 19 Pesos times 6. This is great for me as I do not have refrigeration. So, if I only want one, it will be cold. To buy a 6-pack, because I had to or felt an economic pressure to buy 6, I’d have 5 warm beers. Or over consume. In the States, you are economically punished for only buying 1 beer. That single will cost more than 1/6 of the 6-pack. So, over-consumption is encouraged and rewarded. Not only is there no conservation, but if I had to buy 6, then I’d have more need to replace that money through some sort of capitalist means, which is never environmentally sound. Imagine if everyone in the world consumed on the level that Americans did? It’s a good thing I’m not an environmentalist. The contradiction would be unbearable.

Boat Hack: “If it’s windy, put a reef in it, if it’s windy, put a reef in it.” To the tune of Beyoncé’s “If you want it, put a ring on it.” That’s sailor/musician humor from someone who’s been both and prone to compulsive echolalic behavior. We are who we are. You will be great by being yourself. Others will be great by making you conform. You decide.