Greetings from Cabo! Leslie has done all the previous Newsletters, so I guess it's time for me to do one.
We made it around the cape one day before New Year's Eve. I can see why people like this place so much: the scenery is spectacular, but I do sincerely wish it were open season on ski-doos. I will always think of the sound of moss-ski-toes and the smell of 2-stroke engines when I think of Cabo. Les has said that the Town has doubled in size since she was here 4 years ago, and she doesn't remember ever hearing or seeing the infernal devices. They are driven around loudly and at high speed (to impress the beach bunnies, of course ... I've only seen one driven by a female.) The wakes make the water in the harbor look like the "agitate" cycle in a wash machine; I sincerely wish we could use stain-remover on the noisy little beasties.
The good news is that the water is finally warm!!!! We have been diving off the boat to cool off, take salt-water baths, snorkel, etc. It's FUN!!! I've been doing various in-the-water boat projects since Morro Bay, but up to this point I've always had to put on my wet-suit. Juck.(My Spanish is showing) We were planning on rowing over to the rocks this morning & snorkeling, but the wind is up right now & rowing would be too much work ... maybe this afternoon, if we can con somebody w/ an outboard to take us over there. We're re-thinking our "no outboard" stance; the little buggers are a massive pain in the butt, but there are sooooo much easier than rowing. We brought along an electric trolling motor, but I haven't yet hooked up a system to charge the batteries. Electricity is a major hassle: our refrigerator sucks up a lot of electrons, so when we're at anchor we have to run our engine ~2 hours every 3 days or so to re-charge the batteries. Right now we have 2 huge blocks of ice in the fridge, and it's been wonderful that we don't have to listen to the compressor using up the batteries. If I add the batteries for the trolling motor to the circuit it would mean running the engine even more.
We spent x-mas in Bahia Magdalena (known as "Mag Bay" to us cruisers), which is about 2/3 of the way down the left side of Baja. It's similar in size and shape to San Francisco bay, but there are only a couple of thousand people there, as opposed to a couple of million. We anchored near the small town of Puerto Magdalena, pop of maybe 200. A cute little town, fairly tidy by 3rd-world standards. The Port Captain, Gregorio, was our main contact in the town (everywhere we go, we have to check in & check out w/ the Port Captain, if there is one. Mexican bureaucracy is very casual in the little towns, though, so they don't care too much if you kinda skip the formalities every once in a while.) Since I have more Spanish than most, I became the Unofficial Interpreter for Gregorio: he would call me up on the radio and ask me to tell all the gringos to turn on their anchor lights, for instance. It was kind of fun, being important and all, but it became a hassle after a while because it seemed like I was spending half my time on the radio, as opposed to laying out in the sun or walking on the beach -- which was the reason we were there.
No boat projects in Mag Bay, though. We were in San Diego for a whole month, doing boat projects the whole time. Then, on the trip down from San Diego we got slapped around a little, including a rogue wave off Cedros Island which put us on our ear. Little or no damage (the bow light is broken and we have a little tear in our spray skirts, but we don't know if those happened at that time or not). Anyway, by the time we got to Mag Bay it was time for a break, so I declared a moratorium on Boat Projects, and for 2 weeks we simply relaxed.
For x-mas there were approx. 20 other sailboats anchored off Pto. Magdalena, and we started calling ourselves the "Mag Bay Yacht Club;" Leslie and I were elected co-commodores, supposedly because we had been anchored there the longest, but I suspect the fact we were not present when this was decided had something to do w/ the outcome. But the only thing we really had to do as commodores was decide when and where the x-mas party was going to be held, so the duties weren't bad. We decided that noon was a good time, and the beach closest to our boat (so we wouldn't have to row too far) was the best place.
The pot-luck x-mas dinner was a great success, ~50 people from many different locations and backgrounds got together to share food, stories and camaraderie. There were moments of sadness and melancholy: Rob, aboard the boat Calypte, had learned a week before that his mother had passed away, and he had been unable to get transportation back to Toronto to attend the funeral. This kept us thinking even more than usual about how separated we were from our families and friends, and how you can never know when will be the last time you will see a love one. But Rob and his wife Patty brought along a bass mandolin and penny-whistle, and their playing and singing brought us all back to good spirits. No x-mas carols -- traditional Irish songs and sea chanteys prompted those who knew the words to sing along, and everyone else tapped their bare toes in the sand. Many commented how it didn't feel at all like x-mas, although several of the Canadians noted that the white sand looked a little like snow. The only real x-mas decoration was a woven, roll-up x-mas tree given to me by my Mom. We stuck an oar into the sand and tied the tree to the top, and the tree was featured prominently in several "Mag Bay Yacht Club" group photos.
After leaving the big money-vacuum of San Diego, we've actually been able to stay below budget. If you stay away from stuff imported from the states, most everything in Mexican stores is very cheap. December was the first month we came in under budget, and that includes 7 days in S.D.! Even restaurants are within our budget again, so long as we stay away from the Tourista areas. Dining w/ the natives is a lot more fun, too. In San Carlos (a larger town near Pto. Madgalena) we had a delightful meal in a little open-air restaurant ... although "restaurant" is a little pretentious: it was basically a kitchen in an empty lot with some tables in front of it under an awning. We never remembered its name, we always referred to it as "The Place with the Blue Poly Tarps". But what was lacking in furnishings was more than made up in warm friendliness and good food. It is a family restaurant: the daughter took the orders, the mother did the cooking, the father welcomed us and presented the bill with great warmth and dignity... and the granddaughter's job was to sit around and look cute. At one point we asked for more salsa -- we had been served 2 different kinds of the delicious stuff, and wanted more of the one with the bits of tomatoes, onions and cilantro. When we got the other kind, we asked what the difference was between the two. The daughter said that both were salsa, but then the Mother chimed in with the fact that our favorite was "Mexican Salsa": the tomatoes, onions and cilantro were red, white and green, just like the Mexican flag. Mom gave a delightful smile at this point, and I realized I *really* like this country!
There have been some low points, too, but it's much too pleasant of a day go into them at this time: I don't want to think about the engine right now and Leslie doesn't want to think of gales and big waves!
Our plan is to leave Cabo in a day or 2, and take our time rounding the corner and heading up to La Paz. Two weeks sounds about right, and when we get to La Paz, Leslie has promised me a night in a hotel room (one with a Jacuzzi, we hope!) for my birthday.
Communication via e-mail is definitely possible in the larger towns in Mexico: we know for a fact that there is at least one place in La Paz where we can get on-line and we found the place in Cabo. Please keep your messages coming -- we love to hear from you, and will be better about replying in the future.
So, from the bottom of Baja (and from the bottom or our hearts), Feliz Navidad y Próspero Año Nuevo!
Jay & Leslie