Isla Isabella and La Cruz

On our way to Puerta Vallerta we took a detour to a small uninhabited island called Isla Isabella about half way between Mazatlan and Puerta Vallerta. Accompanied by three other sailboats there were flocks of predatory waterfowl circling this bird sanctuary. Exploring the island, we discovered iguana and myriads of large birds protecting ripening eggs and newly hatched offspring. Upon reaching the bluff of the island, we recognized blue footed boobies. As the only explorers on this small island for the day, we noted parallels to Charles Darwin’s expedition in the Galapagos.



We sailed to and anchored in La Cruz (about 20 miles north of Puerta Vallerta) to avoid the traffic of the big city. In transit, we encountered a challenge: A weld on a pipe taking saltwater through to cool the engine cracked and continues to dump an increasing amount of saltwater into the bottom of the boat. Gorilla tape and a rubber hose with clamps provided a quick fix but we hope to find some welding equipment here in La Cruz.
The first night in La Cruz, we befriended a father (Dave) and daughter (Annette) living here who graciously guided us through the area. La Cruz is a very small community designed to accommodate yachtsman and cruisers alike with lots of promise. A Californian investment group recently built a beautiful and overpriced marina last year with ambitions for new hotel. The town inhabits an older crowd of boatman and fisherman, several of which lost boats in hurricanes and have never left.
Makai is growing quickly and is still looking for her place in the hierarchy of the world. She challenged every dog who thought they had territorial rights and avoided four attacks with her increasing speed and coordination. Bret and I look forward to stepping behind our blue eyed princess the Mexicans call “El Lobo” instead of in-between the aggressive strays.
We traveled in a bus yesterday about 25 miles north up through the rainforests to a surfing town called Sayulita. We met up with friends from our Baja Haha race for a day at the beach. Sayulita is a cool little town with trendy bars and surf shops lining a small beach. There was a small break about 100 yards off the beach where dozens of tourists taking a shot at surfing for the day. There are a couple of fishing boats run by an avid hunter and fisherman from Portland, OR named Paul. We swapped some fishing stories and learned how to catch some local fish. Two for two pongas returned successfully that day each boasting a couple of Rooster fish and Dorado. We spent the majority of the day body surfing and swimming. Makai enjoyed a long run on the beach and the popularity that an exotic Alaskan dog deserves in 100 degree heat.
Bret and I are gathering provisions, working on the boat, and attending a charity for young sailors today before embarking on our 8-10 day voyage down to El Salvador.

Mazatlan

Landing on shore of the Mazatlan anchorage at night, we were met by an unwelcome host: the guard dog for the dinghy dock. We took a few steps forward while scanning for potential weapons in the event the dog attacked. Shirtless and shoeless, it would have been a decent fight, but I’m sure we would have come up on top. We slid through the fence of what seemed like a military compound, escaping the dog and entering into our new port. I felt like a Mexican coming into the US, as we had no money or passports on our bodies while we searched for our Mom and her boyfriend Jimmy.

The next day, after three weeks in Mexico, we took the liberty to officially declare ourselves as guests in the country. In true van Roden fashion, we had about half of the required paperwork necessary to clear the Broken Compass and passengers. Ten people (three health officials, four immigration officers, two harbor clearance officers, and our trusty local agent) met with us to clear us into the country. The health inspector laughed when he boarded the boat and saw our lack of provisions, which we thought were more than adequate. The immigration officer was unconvinced when we threw the ignorance card at the paperwork needed to clear port (after he saw our passports were full of stamps). Our agent was happy we hid Makai before clearing the boat, as he had already spent half the day creating documents and pulling strings. A few smiles later, we were legal tourists.

After almost a week here, I would give Mazatlan 2 stars out of 5. The old town and new town are spread out over approximately 10 miles, necessitating taxi or bus service to any destination of choice. Taking an afternoon sail to an offshore island, our diving expedition yielded 4 foot visibility in the murky waters filled with sediment. Much different than the clear blue waters one would expect in a vacation spot. Points were scored for the bar Gus Gus, supped up golf cart taxis, friendly people, and a downtown market with fresh fruit and meat cut straight from a hanging cow.

Today we are provisioning and repairing the boat before continuing to Puerto Vallerta this evening. Thanks for all the comments and posts to the guestbook. We’ll be online in a few days upon arrival at our next port.

The night of the Dorado

We have experienced smooth sailing, blue skies, and great company in the ports of Turtle Bay, Bahia Santa Maria, and Cabo San Lucas. The Baja Haha sailing community is a great group of people and we have made many friends thus far. Heidi, a crew member on the boat Hoya, decided to hop on the Broken Compass as a guest for the last two legs ending here in Cabo San Lucas.
After hearing of the multitudes of fish caught by other sailors down to Turtle Bay, our fishing egos were humbled. Chad and I made the decision that the Baja Haha was no longer a sailing race. I thought to myself, “We might not be the best sailors in the fleet, but we should at least be able to catch more fish than these hand liners.” In Bahia Santa Maria, we began to execute our strategy. As everyone else left at dawn to begin the third leg, we hung back in the bay and slipped on our spearfishing gear.



We had a ponga set up (through drinking games on the Broken Compass with Mexicans the night before) to pick us up and take us to some local spots. No fish, but an assortment of abalone, lobster, conch, and sea urchin provided for a good departure meal. We stopped sailing a few times to chase schools of fish and drift for grouper, but ended the first day with only one nice sized Sierra for shashimi. Night fell and the water lit up under a full moon and clear skies as our trolling rigs were set (two rods with feathers, and a plug on a hand line) when the first fish sent the reel screaming. We ended up catching 7 dorado on Thursday night, with hits almost like clockwork every hour. Satisfied that we can actually catch food for ourselves out at sea, we sailed the rest of the way to Cabo.



We spent two days and one night in Cabo which fulfilled all of our expectations of the town. Baja Haha had a beach party in the day which extended into the night. We parted with a group of survivors to hit the town. Attending Squid Row and Cabo Wabo one party member consumed enough Mexican tequila and needed to relieve himself on the streets of the city. In the back of a paddy wagon for his intoxicated act, some stellar negotiating from two local Cabo girls and a $50 bribe aided in his evasion of prison. In an effort to pursue the path less traveled, we are off again to cross the sea of Cortez and looking forward to meeting up with family in Mazatlan.

... I had to add a pic of Makai enjoying the fish:

First Storm

All the Baja-Haha sailors were warned of a storm 2 days away with large swells and up to 25 knots of wind. The majority of the race planned to take refuge in the many harbors along the coast and that only the hardiest of sailors were advised by the Baja Haha committee to continue. Bret turned to me and asked, “How rugged can sailors possibly be?” I responded, “Let’s find out.” as we headed out to sea leaving the majority of the fleet to cruise the coastline. The first day was bliss with smooth sailing and our first fish caught while trolling. A beautiful 5 pound Mahi Mahi from a blue feather provided some sushi and good protein dinner. The storm kicked up around 3pm the following day with winds and swells lifting. We would later find out later our fisherman friends at home in San Pedro did not leave the harbor under these conditions. A little nervous at testing our skills in our first storm, Bret and I decided to stick together. Without the luxury of an autopilot, one person had to man the helm while the other attempted to get some sleep. In a storm with 20ft swells and up to 30 knots of wind, we could not afford to leave the helm for even a few seconds to awake the other down in the cabin. The result, on person captained 1 hour shifts while the other lay tethered to a cleat attempting to sleep with the occasional wave crashing over the gunnels. Makai was stationed in the cabin surrounded by pile of blankets pillows trying unsuccessfully to dodge books and other parcels flying around. During the climax of the storm and over the roaring winds, I heard clawing and whimpering in the cabin. Makai had climbed the three large steps to the kitchen counter and was perched at the door come outside. As Bret granted her this wish, she took off for the bow to her “poop mat.” Luckily, Bret caught up to with a rope to keep her on the boat. We experienced an accidental jibe which ripped the bracket holding the boom to the boat. I kicked Bret awake and I proceeded to lasso the wiping boom and take down the mainsail in 20+ and knots of wind. We rode out the storm with minimal damage and arrived safely in Turtle bay on the Thursday evening October 30^th. Tuning into the radio, we discovered others had not been as fortunate. One sailboat was struck by a whale during the storm and sank as their wet and cold crew was saved by the coastguard. Another boat issued a distress call after running into a crab pot that entangled the prop and rudder. Close to the harbor, they managed to limp their way in. It is now Friday morning. Makai is desperately seeking firm ground to step on and we have a beach party with the other boats to attend. We will depart for Santa Bajia on Saturday afternoon. It is a shorter leg we are all looking forward to.

Baja-Haha

Our adventure began before we left the US. On our way down to San Diego from San Pedro, we experienced thick fog through the night with visibility at about 200ft at times. We slowly sailed along unaware of what lie ahead except for the GPS map showing where land is present. Escaping the fog the next morning, we encountered another trial. On the phone distracted and in between a helmsman transition, the Broken Compass kissed a shoal and came to an abrupt hault in the San Diego Bay. Ingenuity and our oversized 'rescue' dighy named Firefox heeled us back to the safety of the channel. Luckily, the bottom was sand and it was merely a practice in problem solving. One port harbor down, lots to go!

We are setting sail out of the bay this morning as I write this. Chad is washing down the deck to 'pretty her up' for the departure parade. Makai seems anxious, apparently sensing something new is on the horizon... or she may just be waiting for breakfast. Either way, we are all excited and feel ready for the rough seas and 350 nm initial leg of the Baja-Haha.

Two steps forward...

Currently surrounded by an inverter, batt monitor, alternator, 3 disconnected batteries, and half a pot of Idahoan mashed potatoes, we have been tying up loose ends in the last week before we head off to San Diego. Waiting for updated passports to come back in the mail, vaccinations/drugs, saying goodbyes, putting junk in storage, testing equipment, and adding final touches to the boat has taken up most of our time. Makai just got her puppy vaccination pack #1, but will have to wait till Mexico to get #2 and rabies shots. 'Broken Compass' name was sealed on the back of the boat yesterday, and we started the tedious process of tying cones to our braided line for our 'save me' Jordan Series Drogue.

Today Chad went up the mast to attach a new wind vane onto the VHF antenna. Hanging 60 ft in the air, he demanded I send a camera up on the halyard since it was a "beautiful sunset view." Having climbing experience, we know the value of checking all harness buckles and knots. We forewent the same scrutiny with the knot holding the bucket to Chad's harness, which took the long fall from the mast top to the dock and into the drink.

Lost items: our last digital camera, VHF antenna, and our brand new wind vane.

Tomorrow's projects: buy new camera, VHF antenna, wind vane, and send myself up the mast to reattempt installation.

Compliments of the iPhone, here's a picture of Makai hard at work on the battery bank

California Sunset

To articulate the past weekend in a few paragraphs will be difficult.

On Thursday we sailed down to Mission Bay with Chris Pike and Troy Grasinger, two guys Chad worked with at Union Bank of California. The 19 hour sail went well, and early morning porpoises and pilot whales made for some good sightseeing.

We met up with friends in Pacific Beach to relax, hang out on the beach, and watch an upcoming band Inside Switch (www.myspace.com/insideswitch) record their first album. We left San Diego Saturday evening with a crew of 7: Myself, Chad, Patrick Tell, Christina Damiano, Sejal Patel, Tony Crowell, and Nate Barnard. Sejal and Christina whipped up some amazing chicken stirfry, Nate and Tony kept watch like nighthawks, and Patrick crewed like a seasoned sailor. We arrived in Emerald Bay at 8am for breakfast on the boat and dighy assembly.

Todd Miller telescoped the crew's arrival from his castle overlooking Emerald Bay. We breached the shoreline at noon. In true Miller form, the beach was lined with activities and beverages. Joselyn Miller introduced Makai to her new best friend, a 3 month old english bull dog named Twiggy. The two battled tit for tat the entire afternoon as we reunited with old fishing friends from an Annual Sea of Cortez trip that Joselyn's father had chartered for almost two decades. A short sail partially convinced the elite athletes and adventures of Southern Californina we are ready for our voyage. The evening continued with a feast and toasts of farewell and blessings up at the castle. Armed with platnum patron and a dighy of 7 (including Makai) we shoved off for the Broken compass at 9pm. The darkness cloaked a small breaker on the way out which nearly swamped the tender and crew. Wet, cold and exhausted the crew pulled anchor and endured the 6 hour trip back to San Pedro.

We couldn't have imagined a better weekend.