Isla Isabela east anchorage – very rolly – we were here for three days..
We left Mazatlan on a Friday – which is notorious as a bad luck day for departures. Are we superstitious – well – there was good wind, or so we thought, and dead calm predicted for the next day. Reluctantly, MS agreed to leave that day. Being safe in a marina, in such a cool resort, among friends, made it really hard to leave. After we got the bill though – about $1,900 for moorage and electricity for our 2 and ½ month stay, I realized that we should have left about two months ago….
We made it out through the somewhat narrow entrance jetty dodging a panga returning, and powered through a four foot building chop – this was a bit different from when we had arrived, when it had been flat calm. The seas had not really laid down from the heavy conditions of the previous three days – there had been a major storm and wind conditions off the Baja, about 500 miles to the west and north. We raised sail in about a 12 knot northwest breeze, and started broad reaching towards the south. The boat was very rolly as the breeze died down to about 9 knots and the waves seemed to build to about 6 feet with about a ten second period. This was not wind chop – just steady swells left over from the big wind to the west.
We both looked at each other and said – “are you sick” – not yet, but I soon was to be. I tend to get sick very fast and then get it over with – MS just seems to sit there and suffer – probably wondering what she should do to me to pay me back for subjecting her to this misery. Four hours later, after making about 20 knots good of the 90 we had to travel under sail, the wind died completely and we started the engine. Motoring at about 2100 rpm, since we were not in any hurry, we made about 5.2 knots headed towards Isla Isabela.
This was a very pleasant overnight trip – the swells died down, the stars were out, and there were few targets on the radar. We switched watches three hours on and off – which seems to work as a good schedule for us. We kept pace with a single boat about four miles ahead, heading to the same destination. We had spoken to them earlier on the radio. This seems to be a bit of the protocol – if you are making an overnight passage in the same direction, contact the boat ahead or behind. It makes a bit of sense, since it is nice to know who the target is. Also, if there are problems, there is someone close at hand to lend assistance. I never used to think about things this way – every man for himself you know – but there is a bit of an ethic out here about helping out. Also, you have a legal and moral responsibility to lend assistance to a boat in distress out here – there is no “vessel assist” except for the Mexican Navy – and they may not show up in time. The radio thing always bothers me though – just don‘t like to talk on it – “Me no understand voices coming out of little black box!” – MS is in charge of the radio. Anyway – some folks love to talk to their friends on the radio – they hail so much and so frequently you get to remember their boat names. This guy we were traveling with was cool though, – we made contact once or twice and that was it. We spoke to him at the anchorage the next day and was a very pleasant fellow – you really do meet nice people cruising…
We got to the island about 0530 the next day – just like MS planned. There is something about coming up on an island at dawn in Mexico – it is quite a bit different than in the Northwest. The dawns are this very long grey period, then the sun springs up and is quite bright. Usually, there is no fog or marine haze to create that sort of grey misty overcast associated with most Northwest summer dawns on the water.. Only this was the middle of winter here in Mexico, 35 miles offshore. Anyway the island was quite grey looking at this time, we were about five miles off its northern shore. At dawn, it looks quite small, just a grey hump next to the water. Actually it is only 281 feet high, and is a volcanic cone left over from some past geological event. I was on watch at this time, so I got MS up and said we are here – “estamos aqui!” (my how my Spanish is improving). She had previously determined that there was not a lot bad stuff to crash into here on our approach around the northeast side of the island about 1-½ miles off. We slowly motored into the eastern lee of the island, and dropped anchor about 200 feet off the surf line in about 23 feet of water. We had not even turned the engine off when some fisherman in a panga came over and told us we were in an unsafe place once the afternoon surf had a chance to build. Well – local knowledge trumps anchoring information received from a friend, so we upped anchor and moved out a few hundred yards, and reanchored in about 65 feet of water. It was a bit rolly, but a magnificent setting. With these Mexican anchorages you are always sitting out in what seems like the middle of the ocean. We were going to be here for about three days. I am sure MS will follow up with a big report of the bird life here – there were a lot of birds – since this is a national sanctuary for frigate birds and boobies and who knows what else. Now it was time for a bit of a nap – no matter how easy, these overnights tire you out a bit.
Munas Rock – we anchored behind it…
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