March 21, 2016: We really do try to hang out in places for a while. We'd planned to slack around Bahía Concepción for several days with all our new-found friends. However, both the USB forecast on the AmigoNet at 0730 and the LSB forecast on the Sonrisa Net at 0745 called for good weather for just 48 hours more, then winds increasing throughout the Sea of Cortez for the foreseeable future. Our friends all opted to drift over to the anchorages further south in Bahía Concepción, assuming they would be more protected when the weather turned foul.* Being the contrarians we are, we decided to cross the Sea immediately, intending to make landfall on the mainland in Bahía Algodones, 87 miles away. We had listened to two weather forecasts, so our 0915 departure would put us in Algodones at about midnight.
I do not recommend arriving in any anchorage after dark, no matter how experienced a boater is nor how confident they are with their electronics. Darkness alone places one at greater risk. Reliance on electronics to keep you safe is a good plan…right up until one or more of them fail. I am continually amused by people who are not surprised by crashes on their laptops and tablets, and connectivity issues with their SmartPhones, but have no concern whatsoever that their boat's chart plotters and the tracks they have made electronically, will never-ever fail them. So, kids: never make a habit of approaching an anchorage at night.
Except of course when you must. Or when you can get as many variables in your favor as possible.
We felt Bahía Algodones was an OK choice for a night landfall, because (1) we'd been there before; (2) it is a wide-open bay with few rocky hazards; (3) depths and holding are such that if you couldn't make it into the main anchorage, you could drop an anchor in a couple of other spots and just stand watch until sunrise to stay safe; (4) we had a cruising guide for the anchorage that we'd previously verified was reliable; (5) we had a good pair of binoculars that we knew worked well in darkness; and (6) we would check chart plotter and visual cues against our radar. Disadvantages: (1) It had been about 8 years since we were last in this anchorage; and (2) our Navionics chart plotter was terrible – showing hazards where there obviously were none, and ignoring hazards that were actually there. No me gusta Navionics. So it was radar + cruising guide + binoculars for us.
The crossing itself was flat-calm and uneventful – a fair current with no more than cats' paws and less than 12 knots north winds until we were 12 miles offshore of Algodones and closing. Protip: this often happens when approaching this area of the mainland in late afternoon or at night. Winds can increase from zero to 20 knots or more, the closer you get to shore. Be prepared.
Critter count: on the Baja side, between Punta Concepción and the Santa Inez islets, we spotted about a dozen gray whales, moving very slowly and presumably grazing on whatever gray whales graze. Several sea lions were doing the backstroke nearby.
During the crossing, no other vessel appeared on radar nor was any voice heard on the VHF. Breeze increased to 13-18 knots from the north and NNE as we closed with the shoreline, and our cats' paws transmogrified into a 3-foot chop on the port beam. However, upon entering Bahía Algodones the breeze settled to about 8 knots. Our radar, combined with the chartlets in Om Shanti's cruising guide (first edition) led us safely to the main anchorage where we anchored deeply and well off of 4 other sailboats in 35'-36' at 2310 exactly.
And so to bed, for a flat-calm night.
* We later learned from our friends who had stayed in Bahía Concepción that the weather there turned…suboptimal, no matter which anchorage they'd chosen. And that their later northern crossings were rather less comfortable than our own had been. "So, ladies and gentlemen: take my advice! Pull down your pants and slide on the ice!"
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