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Go West
by Capt. John E. Rains
Exploring Mexico’s West Coast -- by trawler
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It’s no wonder that the west coast of Mexico and the Baja California peninsula are so popular with American boaters. They are studded with scores of extraordinarily scenic anchorages, friendly ports and exotic cruising areas where you’ll find the kind of welcome solitude you won’t find even in the most isolated regions of the United States.
I recently had a chance to explore these wondrous cruising waters again -- and got paid for the privilege. My job was to deliver Husky, a 62 foot Nordhavn, from the new marina at Barra Navidad near Manzanillo, up the mainland and into the Sea of Cortez, where the boat’s owners wanted to do a bit of sightseeing. Then, we came up the Baja California coastline to another fairly new marina at Ensenada, just 60 miles south of the U.S./Mexico border.
Many of the motoryachts I deliver are designed more for cocktail cruising around the bay on a sunny Sunday afternoon than for crossing oceans -- no matter what the brochures may say. If they are too lightly built, making a voyage of several thousand miles can be an uncomfortable experience -- and an extremely challenging one.
Not so with this one. The Nordhavn 62 is ruggedly built to go far offshore to distant destinations -- and to do so comfortably.
Our canoe-stern trawler offered a raised pilothouse aft, over the main saloon, and a large flush foredeck. Amidships, Husky’s main deck had a ship’s crane for tending two skiffs. A high bullnose rose over the bulbous bow. Walkways around the aft half of the boat were enclosed in high, solid walls, relieved by huge scuppers.
Husky has the seaworthy lines of a North Sea fishing trawler -- and during our two-week cruise, it more than lived up to our expectations.
Prepped for the Journey
I had taken Husky down to Barra Navidad from Ensenada early last December, where its owners, Peter Beuret and Esther Ammann, had prudently spent the coldest months of the year. They asked me what time of year would be best, weatherwise, for a return trip to Ensenada. I chose early April.
Most cruisers return in May, in order to get out of Mexico before the start of hurricane season on June 1. Unfortunately, that’s when the northwest winds are at their steadiest and strongest, making for a wet, bumpy and uncomfortable “bash” of a ride home.
Early April is better, because the deserts around Yuma haven’t heated up yet. When they do, it creates the notorious Thermal Low, into which all that wind feeds. Thus, June 1 can be quite uncomfortable when you’re northbound.
In late March, I just happened to be delivering a boat up from Panama to Marina Isla de la Navidad, the large new marina in Barra Navidad. So, upon our arrival at the marina, my entire previous yacht delivery crew and I just jumped off one boat and onto Husky, docked a few slips away, and continued heading northwest the next day.
Peter and Esther wanted to anchor for the night as much as possible -- and still get up to Ensenada in 14 days. Good anchorages aren’t always spread out that conveniently, so on a couple of long stretches, we would be traveling all night. But overall, it was a treat for me, because as a delivery skipper I’m used to “steaming ahead” day and night -- sometimes for several weeks on end. This was going to be a real pleasure cruise.
On our way out, we filled the tanks at the marina’s new fuel dock. It is located just inside the back lagoon, and it is easy to get on and off the long floating docks. Our full tanks would hold much more fuel than we needed to make this 1,100-mile run back north -- but the marina’s fuel price was just about the best in Mexico, so we didn’t mind “stocking up.” Furthermore, this marina accepts credit cards, adding to the convenience of refueling here.
With provisioning, fueling and last-minute errands accomplished, we got under way late in the day. That was fine, because our first night’s destination was only 10 miles northwest of Barra -- at Tenacatita.
Jungle River -- and More
Tenacatita is famous for the “Jungle River” cruise visitors here can enjoy, but it’s also a large, picturesque bay with plenty of anchoring room. That was a good thing, because we found a fleet of about 20 other boats already anchored here.
The nest morning, we put the launch in the water and crossed the river bar to begin the Jungle River trip. It’s really not something out of Disneyland; it’s just a 5-mile-long waterway meandering through dense mangrove forests. However, it is well worth exploring.
We departed Tenacatita at midday and pulled into Ipala just after dark. Ipala is a small indent with an anchorage a few miles south of Cabo Corrientes. A couple of boats were already anchored in the calmest spots, so I dropped the hook a ways out.
Husky had an ideal ground tackle setup: a heavy plow anchor and 300 feet of chain. A remote digital readout in the pilothouse told us exactly how much chain was out. All of this helped me sleep better while on the hook.
Ipala anchorage was a bit rolly, but tolerable. We were glad to have a saltwater washdown pump plumbed into the chain hawse: The powerful jet did a great job of cleaning off the muddy chain when we weighed anchor early the next morning.
We rounded Cabo Corrientes and entered Bahia Banderas, staying close to shore in order to do a sightseeing tour of the entire bay. We passed Yelapa, Las Animas, Mismaloya, Los Arcos and Puerto Vallarta, then went around Rio Ameca Shoal, the inlet at Nuevo Vallarta and La Cruz.
Flopper Stopper Stop
We dropped the hook at Punta Mita, on the northern arm of Bahia Banderas, to spend the night. Punta Mita is a huge anchorage, but a slight swell was coming in, so we decided to deploy the boat’s flopper stoppers for the first time. We lowered the rigid outriggers on both sides of the boat, then fed out cable until the floppers were in the water.
Our “floppers” were large stainless steel trays with wire mesh in the bottom. A rubber sheet with an “X” cut into it was attached atop the mesh. When the boat rolled to the downward side, the rubber mat separated and dropped deeper with little resistance; however, on the uphill side, the rubber sheet stayed closed, causing great resistance and dampening the roll.
I was amazed how well the flopper stoppers worked to dampen the rolling motion. From then on, we deployed them every night we anchored. In marginal anchorages where everybody else was rolling badly, our boat remained steady as a rock.
Seeing the Sea
Isla Isabela was to be our next destination -- our first stop after entering the south end of the Sea of Cortez.
We departed Punta Mita at sunrise and fished the entire 70 mile leg -- catching several dorado along the way. You probably wouldn’t call a Nordhavn trawler a “sportfisher,” but our boat worked fine in that capacity. The aft deck has an overhead, so we couldn’t do any serious casting -- but we were glad to have it, because that overhang provided welcome shade.
We pulled into Isla Isabela about an hour before dark and anchored just south of Las Mońas, curvaceous rock spires named for dressmaker’s forms. Again, several boats had already anchored in the best spots, so we set up in deeper water -- but with our ground tackle, that was no problem.
Frigates and boobies mate and nest in a wildlife preserve that encompasses the entire island. The nests and an observation station are on the southwest corner.
The next day, we made our run to Mazatlán. In the afternoon, the wind came up to about 20 knots from the southwest on our starboard quarter. It wasn’t a nuisance until we got into shallow water between the four tiny islands, a few miles offshore of Mazatlan, and tried to enter the breakwater of Marina El Cid.
Waves were breaking right across the entrance, so I turned around and went south to Mazatlán’s municipal harbor anchorage. Unfortunately, it is downwind of the sewage disposal plant -- and it reeked, until the wind turned offshore and blew the smell away. That didn’t happen until around midnight.
Crossing Over
In the morning, we set out on our first run that would include an overnight crossing of the Sea of Cortez to the Baja California peninsula.
Early on this leg, we overtook two sailboats that had just come out through the marina breakwaters. They reported over VHF radio that they’d had great difficulty getting out, because breakers had frothed clear across the entrance. I was vindicated for my decision not to enter, because surfing in with wind and swell behind is always more dangerous than breasting your way out.
The wind gods gave us flat calm weather for crossing the Sea of Cortez -- until we made our landfall on the north end of Cerralvo Island. Here, the wind came up right in our teeth, creating very sloppy seas that steepened the closer we got to the end of the island. I pulled back the throttles.
Our intention was to go into La Paz for the night. However, Peter and Esther weren’t interested in experiencing “Victory at Sea” weather, even though the Nordhavn could handle it quite well. Instead, we turned tail and ran down the Cerralvo Channel to Muertos anchorage.
Muertos is a pleasant little bay, which is handy as a transit anchorage for boats moving between La Paz and Cabo San Lucas. Trailerboaters often launch over the hard sand beach. The area is scheduled for future development.
We all remarked at how much cooler the air temperature was here, compared to the mainland. It was calm when we arrived, but in late afternoon the wind came up out of the east and blew straight into the anchorage. It wasn’t strong enough to make us leave, and our flopper stoppers prevented any roll -- but the other half dozen boats anchored here looked like they weren’t having any fun.
It calmed down around midnight.
Cabo Corner
In the morning, we trolled our way down to Cabo San Lucas. This East Cape region is famous for spectacular fishing, but we didn’t see a bird or any signs of fish. The water temperature was 63 degrees and nobody had been catching anything for days.
We came into Cabo San Lucas and picked up a mooring in the outer anchorage. That Sunday afternoon, lots of zooming PWCs made for a noisy, wake-plagued anchorage until sunset.
Abreojos, our next destination, required another overnight run. We tried to anchor first off Abreojos village, but too much swell wrapped around the point. I moved to Campo en Medio, the small cove just northeast of the village -- and although a slight swell still made it into this cove, our flopper stoppers again saved the day (or rather, the night).
A brand-new hotel rises behind the lovely beach at Campo en Medio. Part of Mexico’s latest push to develop eco-tourism, the hotel was built to accommodate whale watchers at nearby Laguna San Ignacio. For boaters who want to hire a naturalist guide and a panga to get a close-up view of the whales while they’re breeding or calving, Campo en Medio is the anchorage closest to Laguna San Ignacio. You aren’t allowed to take your own boat or dinghy inside the preserve.
Bahia Tortugas is the halfway stopover for boaters heading up or down the west coast of the Baja peninsula. The town is definitely down on its luck, looking less prosperous each year since the packing plant closed. The rickety fuel dock is the only industry here besides local fishing.
A walk around town showed us many abandoned houses. Bahia Tortugas would be a great place for at least one marina, because the bay provides great shelter for visiting boats. As usual, Bahia Tortugas gave us a nice calm overnight anchorage.
By noon the next day, we anchored close into the Middle Island (Isla del Centro) of the San Benito islands group. Rookeries of seals, sea lions and elephant seals on the beach provided excellent through-the-binoculars entertainment.
A group of curious young sea lions amused us, playing close to the boat. However, the enormous number of critters ashore makes such a racket that this calm anchorage is too noisy for sleeping overnight. From past trips, I know it’s quieter near the village on the West Island (Isla del Oeste).
We pushed on, for another overnight run toward Ensenada. North of Isla Cedros, this passage is normally the roughest leg of the whole cruise up the Baja California coast. However, it was calm for us -- proving again that early April is a good time for a trip north.
At Marina Coral, we ended our picture-perfect cruise -- uh, I mean “yacht delivery.”
Capt. John E. Rains, a professional yacht delivery skipper, writes Sea Magazine’s monthly Mexico Report column.
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This article first appeared in the January 1, 2002 issue of Sea Magazine. All or parts of the information contained in this article might be outdated. |
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