Sail Agora

We watched the 55lb anchor hit the golden sand of Cabo San Lucas from 20 feet above, through crystal clear water. I clawed at dirty clothes and now redundant jackets to unearth our freediving gear, and we launched overboard, tasting the salty glory of decently warm water for the first time on our trip. We savored the novelty of stepping out of our front yard, over the white picket fence of the lifelines, and into a tropical arena where pufferfish and rays glide around, eyeing us curiously. Quite the contrast to our somewhat arduous and inarguably freezing pacific passage. Even the high rise resorts and unbelievably inconsiderate jet skis were welcome sights. Steph grinned mischievously as she booked us a 5 star hotel for the night. But whoops, looks like our room wasn’t ready yet, so we’ll have to stay in a super-master suit, complete with a full kitchen, two bathrooms, and two balconies overlooking a popular breaching spot for the local whales. 

This was one among many indulgences that we afforded ourselves while in Cabo. A truncated list: we danced with 20 year olds, sampled all the best restaurants, and strolled along the crowded streets of the waterfront, thick as they were with Americans fresh off of cruise ships. It wasn’t long before we got the drill, and got down to our more pertinent business: provisioning, laundry, and swapping out the fixed blade propeller for the folding one.

All of these tasks were an adventure unto themselves, but we won’t bore you with the details. Turns out life is what happens when you’re busy buying groceries or cleaning clothes.

Switching out the propeller however, is worth sharing because of its uncharacteristically smooth outcome. Normally, boat work is a showcase of the unexpected. One repair takes 3x as long, costs 3x as much, and leads to 3 other repairs. But this time it actually went as planned. Pam, the yard manager,  recognized my area code, and we bonded over Santa Barbara. Because of this, she squeezed us in that same week, even accepting my pleas to leave us in the slings for the job and to please let us do the work ourselves. We told her we’d need 3 hours, and had it done in 1. “Take a walk around the block,” she insisted, “get some lunch! We’ll get you all settled up when you get back.” We used the allotted time to grab as much drinking water we could carry. To save ourselves the long dinghy trip. 

When we finally left Cabo San Lucas, we narrowly avoided yet another whale in a head-on collision, the biggest whale I’ve ever seen, easily wider than our boat. It’s amazing how many near misses we’ve had at this point. Update: since I wrote this we have discovered this was most likely a blue whale. Amazing.

We landed in an anchorage called Los Frailes, and kicked back for some good old fashioned gale dodging. This particular anchorage was at the tail end of over 600 miles of fetch, and when the wind picks up, tall skinny breakers tear up the channel. We explored the area both above and below the water for a few days, and then decided to head north another 60 miles. 

I went up to the bow to pull up our 55lb Mantus Anchor, the only insurance policy for the boat that I’ll ever trust. Up it comes, and I stand above the roller, angling the chain to pull it in. Walking back to the cockpit and, wow, my back does not feel right. Hmm. Off we go, starting the 6-9 hr beat into the ambitious swell, but with each crash of the bow into the trough of the wave, electric nerve pain runs down the right side of my back. “We have to turn back honey,” says Steph, ever-so-wisely. Into the anchorage we go, and I shove the Mantus back into the sea. Whoops! That one move turned my nerve pain to an agonizing paralysis, and I just kind of lay there at the bow, unable to move. 

Now, I don’t blame the people over at lofrans necessarily… I did order a new electric windlass 3 months ago though, and they did assure me (in their most sincere British prose) that they would try to get it shipped as soon as possible. And though I did curse them on several occasions after hauling up the anchor by hand, I don’t hold any actual prejudice against the Brits. Sure, they were negligent in their responses to my emails, and sure, their reply to my message demanding a discount for my trouble explained that the delay would most likely increase the price of the product, but they would kindly not charge me the difference. Sure, I held them in a less than kind light as I lay disabled on the cabin floor for 3 painful days, but no, I can’t say I blamed those “British f***ckers”. The Mantus is my insurance policy, and I wouldn’t trade it for a smaller anchor. Though I lay on the cabin floor in agony, I never even bothered to check it as another gale rolled through. 

Some time later, after many massages from Stephanie and our friend Lindsay, my back was restored and we found ourselves in La Paz. The rumors are true. It’s a cruisers paradise, and a marvelous city. Boats and boat stuff is everywhere, and people walk along the gorgeous waterfront smiling peacefully, taking it in. We indulged in delicious meals, perfect margaritas, and topped off our supplies for a week at the fabled Isla Espiritu Santu.