San Juanico, what an amazing anchorage. Two large monoliths of rock dominate the northern anchorage. The eastern one is a succession of spires. The western is a huge square block tilting a bit to the side, its top dotted with tall single cacti. We call it the birthday cake because it looks like you pulled it out of the oven and one side fell a bit and stuck candles in it anyway... Between these two monoliths is the sweet spot of the anchorage. On shore are sandy beaches. A catamaran can anchor in the shallow head of the bay near the beach. Then between the monoliths is room for another boat or two in 20 feet of water and further out one or two more in 25 to 30. Around the other side there is room for a half dozen more.
The north anchorage at San Juanico is protected from waves and swell when the northerly wind is blowing down the Baja. When the wind “out there” is blowing at 20 to 25 knots, the wind in the bay can be blowing at 15 to 20 knots as it runs across a low spot in the land. In this part of the sea there is a hundred miles of fetch for the wind and waves to build as they head south. Further down the coast, where there are more islands to break up the northerly wind and waves, the sea is calmer and the winds concentrate in the center of the sea and are lighter on the sides of the sea.
We hope as we travel south and stay close to shore we will find relief from the strong northerlies. In the meantime, we take care to move about in the morning when the wind is lighter and to make sure we have a solid set on the anchor with plenty of scope on the rode to keep our anchor from pulling free during the night.
Being the last boat to arrive, we were the ones furthest from the beach, anchored in about 25 feet on a sand bottom. In the late afternoon, when driving the dinghy from the beach to the boat, the wind was up but the waves were tiny building to medium then building to about a foot when we finally reached the boat. One minute all is calm then as we approach the boat, and turn upwind toward the boarding ladder, the waves start crashing over the bow of the dinghy and we get soaked trying to get aboard. We quickly get the motor off the dinghy and haul the little boat aboard and the wind howls around us.
Nepenthe yaws first to the starboard, showing her port side to the wind. She comes up short on the anchor chain, heels over a bit, then shakes it off and points into the wind again only to fall off to port, showing her port side to the wind to come up short again. In high winds, this goes on and on until the sun sets and the wind calms down.
This area of the Sea of Cortez is constantly battered by the north wind in winter. After looking at various wind models we decided that as soon as the winds moderate, we’d head south. Meanwhile we were able to get to shore to do a couple of hikes, one north to the next bay and another inland to a little homestead with mules, goats, chickens, peacocks, and a turkey. The family has some greenhouses out back and sells produce to people camping on the beach and boaters anchored in the Bahia.
We decided to take the next calm(ish) morning and run south to Isla Coronados, 20 NM. We were concerned that the engine was not starting easily and thought we had a fuel problem and sure enough, that morning we had to crank the engine for quite a while before it caught and ran. Motoring out of the bay we soon ran into large swells coming down from the north but not much wind. The strong winds that blew most of last week left the sea state quite confused. With the boat tossing about, the headsail would not stay full so we ran under bare poles with the engine pushing us at about five knots. At the western anchorage of Isla Coronados we saw the sailboat Krishelle at anchor and it seemed she was bucking about in the swell, so we proceeded through the channel around to the south side of the island and anchored a few hundred yards off the shore in about 25 feet of water with 150 feet of chain out.
As the wind built, we took the dinghy ashore, pulled her up on the sandy beach, and started hiking towards the volcano. After an hour and a half or so we had attained the ridge of a rocky spine within sight of the summit approach, the wind was howling. We were leaning into it to keep our balance. Wow, these northers are strong. I’m glad we anchored in the lee of the island.
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| Volcano doesn't look very high in this shot but it certainly is a long slog. |
The fun factor falling quickly, Connie and I decided to backtrack. Noreen and Myron pushed forward. Back at the landing we found other cruisers in their dinghies and had some good conversations, nice to talk to people with much in common. Later, Noreen showed up and soon after that, Myron arrived. He’d made it to the top. She’d made it to the final scree slope. Connie and I had made it to the top many years ago and had been there and done that. I remember it was a long hot slog on that spring day back in 2013.
The next day the norther blew incessantly all day long so we stayed put. We had a good cell signal from Loreto so we downloaded the manual for the engine and read it thoroughly. It mentioned that the pre heater (glow plugs) should be used in cool and cold temperatures. I turned the ignition to the left to activate the heater and counted to five before trying to start it and, vualah! the engine cranked right up. Back in San Carlos, when I asked Omar about using the preheater he said it was not necessary. The manual said otherwise. Could it be that we were not having fuel problems and that we merely needed more heat for the compression to ignite the fuel?
'That next morning was calm so we decided to hightail it south to Puerto Escondido. With the preheat, the engine fired right up and off we went south down the wide channel between Loreto and Isla Carmen. We tried flying the jib but again, the sea state would not cooperate and there was absolutely no wind. The motor pushed us south at 6 knots. Later the wind came up a little…. Right on the nose of course, from the south. About four hours later we rounded the corner into Puerto Escondido, a natural harbor with a world class marina and four huge power yachts tied up at the big outer dock. We found a yellow mooring ball, hooked it, and took the dinghy into the dock to pay the bill. A dollar a foot for a mooring ball seemed a bit steep but hey, we’d been on the water now for a week without spending any money so why not?
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| On a mooring ball in Puerto Escondido |
We were last here in May of 2014 on Traveler without a working
engine. Back then, Puerto Escondido was
a sad and strange place with crumbling infrastructure and not much of a
future. See our blog entry from 8 years
ago here….
But now… the upscale marina complex, now privately owned, has a small grocery store where we found fresh veggies and ordered a flat of eggs for the next day. The rooftop café has good pizza and nice wine so we spent our pesos with the crème of society and felt pretty swell.
The Tabor Canyon, (Steinbeck), a 3km walk from the marina was a nice diversion; an arroyo with large rocks that become boulders and eventually sheer walls requiring a short rope climb up to where the water would fall during summer monsoons into refreshing blue pools. Still, the shallow puddles remaining provide some water for an occasional dragonfly, and under the rocks you could hear the trickling sound of a once and soon to be again raging river. After walking the donkey tracks along the side of highway 12 back to the marina we had hot showers! Making use of the internet, Noreen and Myron found airline tickets to take them from LaPaz back to San Carlos at the end of the month. On the morning of the 10th, we called ahead to the fuel dock to see if it was clear for us to come in. Then we prepped the boat, let loose of the mooring ball, and powered in to take on diesel fuel and fresh potable water.
The fuel attendant told us about the super yachts tied on the outer dock, the insane amount of fuel they take on, requiring the marina to bring in extra tanker trucks. The crew works for two weeks getting the yachts ready for the owner who may or may not show up soon. The super yacht dock is specially built with power and fuel lines to service the massive ships. Moonstone was one of the big yachts and it had a support vessel, Shadow, of almost the same size that was filled with jet skis, and smaller power vessels on deck with a massive crane to move them into the water. The 20 person crew was working tirelessly getting the two ships ready for departure. On the way out of the harbor we yelled over to one of the crew, “You should come with us.” He replied, “I wish I could, “and turned back to his work scrubbing the deck and shining the chrome.
Dead flat water found us heading south again towards Caleta Candeleros Chico, a small cove only 10 NM south of Puerto Escondido. We passed by the larger Bahia Candeleros where back in 2014 we had to sail in after losing our engine navigating through Danzante Reef. Back then, our rebuilt Perkins 4108 started making clunking noises as we approached the break in the reef; these things happen at the most inopportune moments it seems. The crankshaft was coming apart and that was the end of that engine... That experience has left a scar on my psyche and now I fear this particular area of the Baja, thinking it will bring nothing but bad luck.
As for little Caleta Candeleros Chico, Connie and I had been there many years ago and remembered it as feeling quite wild and quiet with lots of sea life. We found our way into the tight entrance and anchored in a sandy bottom, having the place to ourselves. Right away, the dinghy went into the water. Right away the paddleboards were inflated. Soon we were paddling around a rocky islet and seeing striped fish, sea urchins, and sea stars in the rocky shallows.
I was rowing the dinghy around as Connie and Noreen had the paddle boards out for a spin. As I came around the rocky corner I looked ahead and saw Noreen lying prone on the paddle board, her hat shading her face, floating in the clear blue water, in the sun. Behind me, out on the point, Connie was also lying on her board, gently drifting into the cove. Now, this is what we came here for.
Meanwhile, in the bottom of the refrigerator, the whole chicken we bought a week ago was getting stinky. I came aboard, rummaged around and pulled her out, cut open the package and smelled the stink. Overboard the chicken went. Later, when we were pulling up the dinghy, the gang was peering into the clear water trying to make out what they were seeing lying on the sandy bottom. It was our chicken, perched on the sandy bottom, waiting for the crabs; chicken of the sea…
Standing on the bow, I could look down into 20 foot of clear water and clearly see the anchor chain looping around the sandy bottom and the anchor itself with one of its flukes dug into the sand. A group of striped fish lurked in the shadow of Nepenthe and a half dozen puffer fish were nosing the anchor chain.
Later, after dinner in the fading light, some pangas came into the bay and the bright orange and lime green clad fishermen hauled out big manta rays from the boat and tossed them on the beach where they cleaned them with machetes, tossing the center parts and guts into the water and the meaty wings into tubs before zooming off into the darkness. We later learned that these fishermen had caught turtles, manta rays, and hammerhead sharks in their nets and had come by this remote bay to process the catch out of sight of the authorities.
Manta ray carcasses
The next morning the carcasses were exposed at low tide and the seagulls and turkey buzzards were having a feast. The frigate birds swooped around stealing food from everyone while the pelicans dived for the little fish that were attracted to all the excitement. The crew is all in agreement. Despite the carnage, we like this place. I think we’ll stay here another day.
And we did. And we enjoyed another peaceful day. And the poachers came back at dusk with another 40 murdered manta rays and cut them up on the beach.
The next morning after an orange sunrise, Connie bought a fish off of an old guy and grandson in a panga. We cleaned it on the beach then prepped the boat for departure. Myron took the wheel and Noreen pulled up the anchor and we headed out into deep water. Connie popped her head up, “Something does not sound right down here.”
I looked into the engine compartment and saw a bit of water dripping from a raw water hose and below that, I could see the raw water pump on the front of the engine flopping side to side as if it was coming loose from where it is attached to the pulley and crankshaft. “Myron, turn the boat around. We’re going back in to anchor.” He turned the boat around and Connie went to the bow to get the anchor ready. Slowly we crept back in and dropped the hook in 25 feet. The curse of Danzante Reef had struck again!
All day long Myron and I worked on the raw water pump. At first we thought the bracket was faulty so we re-engineered it to hold better. After starting the engine we realized that the pump was still flopping around. Then we took everything apart again and removed the impeller. Then we attacked the four rusty bolts that held the coupler to the flywheel pulley and after copious amounts of WD-40 got those off to finally see the problem. The coupler has a hole with a keyway that accepts the water pump shaft that has its own keyway. That key was worn down and loose and had wallowed out the coupler keyway so the whole thing was a sloppy fit. We needed a new coupler and key.
We found a spare key in a toolbox and cut it to size and filed it down to make it fit, reassembled the whole thing and started the engine. In seconds, the water pump wallowed its way off the coupler. Again, we disassembled everything. Connie pulled out the accordion, Noreen pulled out a book. Myron and I set about re-engineering the bracket that holds the pump from rotating, we found a brass threaded plug and screwed it in then using seizing wire, wired the thing together to prevent the water pump from moving forward. Then we took a clothes hanger, ( yes, a wire clothes hanger ) and secured the other side of the pump so there was no way that water pump could walk its way off that coupler. By that time it was happy hour so we tested our work and called it good for the day. Another night in paradise.
The next morning we tested everything and decided that we’d just take it a day at a time and head south towards la Paz. If our bailing wire solution would hold out for a week, then we’d be in la Paz where we could order a new coupler or maybe have one made at a local machine shop. With trepidation we rounded the corner at Bahia Candeleros Chico and headed south towards Bahia Agua Verde. Maybe, just maybe, the Curse of Danzante Reef was finally giving us a break.
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