Southward Ho, Eventually

The crew of Anduril become sometimes easily bored of an anchorage and seek nearby alternatives.  Strongish north winds had for 3 days prevented any talk of relocation from Santispac to nearby El Burro Cove, but windy days then turned to mild ones and for a change of scenery off we went on a 3 mile neighborhood cruise. 

El Burro Cove is home to a beach lined with thatched cottages, built cozily right up tight to the shore - at high tide there being barely enough room to walk past their beach decks.  Occupants are mostly gringos of retirement age, nice middle class, alternative-lifestyle sorts of people who have discovered that they can live the winter good life here, without spending a fortune on the glitzy living found in fancier Mexican locales.  El Burro is home to Bertha’s restaurant. On Saturday nights all the tourist denizens from the nearby beaches of Bahia Concepcion and also the town of Mulege jump in their cars and arrive to party at Bertha’s with the gringo blues band.  Never ones to turn our noses up at a party, we joined in the dancing with all the others:  grey hair, no hair, paunchy guts and loosely swinging arm flesh, all whooping it up wild. Our kids would be proud of us, even if they might feel a little sick seeing what the future of partying beholds when their own cohort ages out.

One change of scenery soon caused us to wish for another and we decided it would be a shame not to see more of the Baja coast, heading north, not south.  The problem with this plan being that winter is coming here and the wind are now consistently blowing from the north, so that meant more uphill track and lumpy seas to crash into.  We have gotten lazy and soft about sailing, so naturally we complained to each other as we spent 9 or 10 hours of sailing spread over 2 days to get to what proved to be a great decision to travel to the coastal mining town of Santa Rosalia, a town of mining, not tourism. It is a welcome change for once in Mexico not to be the personal font of local wealth development! 

The copper/poly-metals mine here was first established in 1885 by a French concern. Like most mining towns it has seen its historical fortunes rise and fall with the fits-and-starts-economics of mining.   But today the mine is operational and this is a relatively prosperous community with newish cars and trucks driving the streets.  The old and the new stand in sharp contrast though, as the waterfront is littered with the wreckage of abandoned mill works and still standing in the harbour are the rotting timbers of the concentrate load-out plant that formerly loaded German sailing ships with ore. 

Building architecture is “French influenced wild west”, with turn of the 20^th century western USA timber framing and traditional wood siding that was shipped from BC and Oregon to build the mine.  The local church was quite interesting to Greg, as it is an early example of pre-fabricated steel construction, designed by no less an engineering alumnus than Gustave Eiffel (of Eiffel Tower fame). It was first exhibited in France in 1890 and won a design award before being disassembled and shipped to Santa Rosalia in 1897. 

The configuration of town commerce is very different from a tourist stop, and we could find only one good restaurant within walking distance of the harbour district.  Coffee shops servicing workers needing caffeine to start their day were far more numerous, as were hardware stores and auto parts supply shops.  The role played by the Mining Company over the years as economic patriarch is plainly evident all over the town.  Children’s playgrounds, old locomotives and mining hardware restored for display on the streets, community parks and handicap access improvements are all initiatives of the sort of good works that mining companies like to show off as stewards of the community. 

To a mining history buff this place is no doubt some sort of Mecca. Historical artifacts are everywhere. After visiting the old mine administration office turned Mining Museum we strolled over to the Hotel Francis, which is still operational.  The furnishings of the lobby and dining room of this quiet and unassuming historical gem made us think that a night’s lodging here would be an epic experience in “boutique hotel” adventure.  Drivers making their annual trek south to Cabo San Lucas and wanting to make an interesting road detour, take note.

Dwellings for wintering gringos at Playa El Burro.

Petroglyphs or Not?

Kayaking at Playa El Burro.

 

Collared Forest Falcon

Snowy Egret

American White Pelican

Great Blue Heron

No icy cold margaritas at the abandoned Hotel Posada de las Flores, Punta Chivato.

The 9/11 house never completed.

The best shell beach at Punta Chivato.

Punta Chivato.

 

Three lovely days at the Fonatur Marina at Santa Rosalia.

Hotel Frances built in 1886 is still operating.

The mining museum was the original admin building for Compagnie du Boleo.

Remains of the old copper processing buildings.

 

Ore Loadout Building at the harbour.

Santa Rosalia main plaza.    All our meals and drinks were consumed on this corner at El Muelle Restaurant.

Pre-fabricated steel church, Iglesia Santa Barbara, designed by Gustave Eiffel and shipped from Belgium.

French architecture and buildings built from wood imported from Oregon and Canada.

Back in Mexico - Troubles Getting Started

There is no complaining.  Other morons have it far worse. 

Mexico is good at a lot of things and one of them is delivering heat.  The kind of heat we are talking about is of the melting sort. Modern society’s hard-working chemists virtuously toil away in their labs, experimenting with exotic hydrocarbons and then suddenly, voila! a wonderful new plastic or glue is born. It looks good in the lab and of course all the MBA types have heady visions of a new product with profits flowing. Then the marketing folks learn of the fantastic new adhesive invented by the clever chemists and work on developing a sharply memorable slogan suitable for the masses, such as “living better through chemistry”. 

But the heat that creates things can also un-create them.  A summer-stored boat in Mexico is something like a demented chemist’s kiln that has been continuously engaged for 6 months in un-creating all things made of hydrocarbons. Soft glues soften.  Hard glues harden.  And all glues fail.  Adhesive backed Velcro holding cushions in place? Ha! No match for Mexico.  Glued veneer strips on millwork? Peeled.  Plastic window surrounds? Crumbles. Rubber gaskets and pump seals? Just-get-a-new-one-dammit.

Suffice it to say that on returning to the boat after its summer storage there were a lot of annoyances in the way of things that don’t work anymore, or that need special parts ordered.  Five sweaty days were spent working on the boat in the yard making it ready to sail away.  Then we splashed the boat and worked for another two days.  Leaving Puerto Escondido at last, the “to do” list was longer than would make for a happy skipper Greg.  Leaking diesel engine fuel injectors, non-functioning wind instruments, a balky refrigerator, and a misbehaving outboard carburator headline a longer list of some 34 items.  But the freezer still works so we can make Margaritas with ice!

As with most sea-going boats, our “to do” list will never be completed.  So, ready enough, we chose to get ahead of some weather and bolt north to minimize potential troubles from 4 coming days of strong northerlies.  Our trip destination: Bahia Concepcion, which we expect this year will be our most northerly latitude in the Sea of Cortez.  Our first stop was Isla Coronados, where after sunset a panga full of marauding Americans visited our anchorage, setting off fireworks and flying their buzzy drone around the anchorage trying to film unsuspecting naked sailboat cruisers as they cavorted on deck.  Lucky for us, because we confine all our naked sexy cavorting to below decks, we are safe from red-necked voyeurs with flying-cameras.

Punta Pulpito was next, anchored under a picturesque tall cliff veined with a heavy bolt of black obsidian and providing protection from north winds.  A mabula ray used our boat lying at anchor as a stealth tool to mount sneak attacks on fish schooling on the opposite side, transforming as it circled the boat from an underpowered bi-plane into a hungry-for-prey-turbo-charged-jet-fighting fish chaser.  The next day we kayaked over to the cliffs and swooshed through a cave-arch as the incoming swell powered us through on the surf. Above, lounging on the cliffs were families of nesting boobies and a magnificent predatory falcon.  At anchor we were in solitude, save for one boat, Dolce, whose husband and wife crew we chatted with after recognizing them from last year’s group of Baja Ha Ha boats. 

Cruising further north, we saw flying fish, porpoises, other unidentified small whales and were entertained by another circling boobie who was determined to land on our boat, but failed in her mission. We also hooked a small tuna that was promptly gulped up on the line by some larger fish.  The smaller of the two pescados was a sad sight when still on the line she was reeled into the stern nearly completely skinless from head to tail. Unlucky little fish had been ravaged by the ripping teeth of said larger fish, who obviously had been unsuccessful in hanging on to their prey against the pull of our fishing line, thus providing another gruesome reminder that being a prey animal in nature really sucks. 

To make Bahia Concepcion from Punta Pulpito, a long day motor-sailing was required against a building northerly. Eventually turning the corner into the larger Concepcion bay, we gybed and headed towards our first choice anchorage but found it was too weatherly, so we carried on to anchorage at the better-protected Playa Santispac, where for three days we now swing . Yesterday was a hitch-hiking day trip into the nearby oasis town of Mulege. There we visited the Mision Santa Rosalia de Mulege, built in 1766, enjoyed tacos, shopped for hardware odds and sods and stocked up on groceries. 

Back at our anchorage, Ana’s Restaurant provides a satellite connection for 25 pesos/hora, with welcome connection to news of family, world affairs and other business underway back at home.   We are two boats, the other a small 29 footer called Amazon Moon, with Larky and Bruce from Oregon aboard.  On the beach a steady traffic of RVers and campers drive in and park for a night.  Santispac is right on the main Baja highway and a regular way stop for tourists driving both south and north.  The drawback to this spot is the sound of heavy trucks whose engine brakes percuss loudly as they descend down the hill to the beach, changing their weighty tune as they then grind up the other side.

Finally relaxing with una cerveza in Loreto after a long trip from Vancouver and overnight in LA.

 On the hard at Puerto Escondido

 Five days at the lovely Hotel Tripui while working on the boat.

 Sierra de la Giganta early in the morning.

 Margaritas!

Walking Dead on the loose at Puerto Escondido.

Look!    No shoes required!

 A clear calm anchorage at Isla Coronados.

 Anchoraged at Punta Pulpito beneath the cliff with black obsidian.

Ana's Restaurant, WiFi and Bakery at Playa Santispac in Bahia Concepcion.

Spending time at Armando's Bar.

 Catching a ride to Mulege.

Mision Santa Rosalia de Mulege, built in 1766.

Bahia Concepcion