Turtle bay

We arrive in Turtle Bay in the late afternoon. I peer through the binoculars and spot a few masts bobbing around in front of the tiny village. As we near the anchorage we discover the masts all belong to derelict boats. I wonder about the fates that befell them before they were salvaged and dragged here to be stuck on moorings and turned into slowly rotting seagull hotels. There are a few Mexican shrimpers anchored near us. Their boats are hulking, rusted out vessels that look like something out of Mad Max or Waterworld. It's a long way from our posh Marina in MDR where everyone is decked out like an ad for West Marine! The fisherman themselves look as tough as their boats but they smile and wave "Buenas Tardes, Pura Vida!" as we motor in between them and find a spot to drop the hook.
We all crash hard for ten hours and when we get up I make pancakes and black coffee and we crawl into the chilly sunshine on deck to have a look around. Two more sailboats have come in during the night and are anchored behind us. I think I recognize one and a peek through the binoculars confirms it is the little 20 ft. Pacific Seacraft, "Nomad". We had met Bill and Saba in Ensenada, they are also are from MDR. They left a day and a half ahead of us from Ensenada and we are eager to touch base and see how their trip down was when they wake up.
Jon and the kids go ashore and I opt to stay aboard and tidy up the chaos from the last passage. I putter around and decide to make a feast using our fresh food before it goes funky. Cooking on board has the added challenges of quickly fading fresh produce, constantly moving seas and a finicky oven that is determined to burn everything on the bottom. Plus, where we are cruising you can't just restock whatever you need. Which reminds me, it's time to turn those eggs in their cartons. Six cartons have been stowed in a bilge, below the water-line, unrefridgerated. I crack one to check and they are perfect and fresh.
Jon and the kids return from the village. It was dusty and poor and the people were lovely- a recurring theme, here. They bought a couple of fresh baked buns from a shop in someone's house and stopped by Nomad on the way back to the boat. Saba was sleeping but Bill was up and he and Jon compared trips and current weather reports. Bill said they had quite a time on the way down. Seas which were no big deal for our sturdy girl were a lot for pretty little Nomad and their self steering arm was struggling. Like us, they had run into quite a bit of swell and wind North of Cedros Island and found it pretty tiring. They had tried to anchor at Cedros but were boarded by the Mexican navy and told they could not stay. They were given no other explanation and had to continue on to TB. I remembered hearing over the cruiser's net before we left Ensenada that a ship had been lost with six people aboard in the rough waters to the North of the Island. A Mexican official in charge of fishing was among the missing and the Mexican Navy had been called in to help with the search. When we left Ensenada it had been two days since the tragedy and there was little hope of finding anyone. I had tried hard not to think of that incident as we passed Cedros on a night watch. We were safely reefed and our boat was steady and the sun would rise within the hour but I was haunted and whispered a silent prayer to those who were lost.
The forecast was predicting winds 12-20 NNW for the next three days. Then it was supposed to blow harder for a few days after that. Bill and Saba were opting to wait through the week and regain their strength before continuing on to Mag bay. We were eager to set for Magdelena Bay before Kai's b-day. We had read that migrating grey whales spend the months of Feb and March in the bay having their calves and thought there was really no better way to spend a tenth birthday than looking for grey whales in a bay in Baja.
We sat down to a feast of roast pork with grilled corn and jalapeño relish and coconut pinapple rice and apple and romain salad. A welcome fresh dinner after the canned tuna salds and cheese and crackers of the past two days.

fishing boat in turtle bay

marking down a whale sighting in the whale log