During the three day / two night passage from Banderas Bay on mainland Mexico to Bahia los Frailes on the South East tip of Baja, we had less wind and smaller waves than any day we spent anchored in Banderas. Some sailors will whine about the lack of sailability, but not us. Run the motor, have a nice peaceful trip, nothing gets broken. Perfect.
We left Punta de Mita way before dawn Sunday morning. We should have waited an hour so we could see the fishing nets that crosses the opening to the bay, but we made it out without trouble. If we had left later, we would have missed the light show. The ocean was spectacularly full of bioluminescence, and swirling whales or spawning fish or cresting waves were lighting up huge areas of the ocean. 100 foot square patches would suddenly turn bright greenish-white, then slowly fade. It was surreal. Dolphin were swimming back and forth under the boat, trailing bright sparkles, and leaping higher than the decks, dragging their glowing trails with them through the air.
Once we got clear of the land breezes and the sun came up, more normal miracles followed. Dolphins appeared to check us out of the mainland, then again to check us into Baja.
The ocean was completely full of turtles and their birds.
There weren’t too many sea lions, but there were enough to keep things interesting.
The sun came up every morning, and set again each evening. Nancy saw a spectacular green flash the first night. There are no pictures.
Two boobies rode the bow wave off our sail the second night. Thankfully they didn’t find a place to land. The sail was full of wind because the motor was running. Our five knots (over the water and through the air) plus the wind’s three knots gave us enough wind to barely fill the sail and stabilize our rolling. If we turned off the motor we would have been drifting.
I did some reading. Book reports to follow. Run away.
This is what you see when you look into very clear, calm water with the sun directly behind your head. It’s cooler in person, because the white “rays” dance.
When we’re sailing, we try and monitor VHF channel 16 to listen for conversational hailing and emergency calls. It’s a problem in many parts of Mexico, because there’s lots and lots of yammering and singing and playing music and whistling and blah blah blah. At dusk last night, well after we had anchored, I had just given up on the radio and was literally reaching for the “off” knob when I heard the word “Tsunami” break through the barking. I logged onto the internet and spent the next three hours watching the Chilean earthquake turn into a Tsunami advisory, then a warning, almost a watch, and then have the whole thing cancelled as a wide-spread Tsunami failed to materialize. Most everyone else didn’t know anything about it and spent their evening in relaxed conversation or other productive behavior. And so it goes…..