Los frailles

We motored into the beautiful white sand arch of Los Frailles by late afternoon. This was the most "off-the-grid" we have managed to get so far. There was no cell service and no 3-g. There were other boats and a small hotel on one end of the island but the bay has a desolate and windswept feel. The water was aquamarine and the coast dropped steeply into the sea in a tumble of boulders at the end of a bluff. We dropped the hook and it set immediately-oh, the happy happy joy of anchoring in sand.

The wind was picking up a bit from the South-not what we were expecting from our forecast and the anchorage had a bit of wind and small swell to the lee shore. We sat on deck, checking out the scenery for awhile and pondering our set. The sun would go down soon and we didn't want to be forced to move by a bullying South wind and swell. There used to be a good southerly holding spot around the point in the charts but we had heard that it was no longer useable as it is now protected marine park. Well done. It should be off-limits. The largest coral reef, Acreiffe Pulmo, in the entire Gulf of California, lies just North of Los Frailles, and it's a no-go. Our concerns were soon squelched as a dingy from the salty sailboat close to us stopped by on their way home from the beach.

"don't worry, this slop will tone down and the wind will come around in an hour...

where are you from?".

We chatted for awhile with yet another couple of veteran cruisers, Brown as berries and fit as fiddles, they too were headed "across the pond" and to the Marquesas...7th time across the Pacific!!!

They had built their boat themselves.

While we were anchored there Los Frailles filled up with no less than SEVEN boats, most were finishing up the cruising season in mainland Mexico and had made the crossing from Mazatlan to Los Frailles, before umping off and for further South....French Polynesia.

 All of them had done it before, most MANY times.

I met the wives, first mate's all, and got tips on what to shop for in Mexican markets and how to stow produce and how to avoid pickpockets and what schools close to the cruising grounds badly needed supplies and I watched Jon's face as he listened to the other Captains' tales of engines and spare parts, variations on theory of fiberglass strength and where a good hurricane hole was and how to rig a temporary fix out of a plastic bottle if your fuel pump goes south.

I have been married to Jon for fourteen years. I know when something holds his interest...

I watched as he nodded and grinned and listened to these tan, bright-eyed Professors of Everything, with their bare-feet and calloused hands...and I KNOW....They have him.

THIS has him.

That night, as we lay in our bunk with the warm, chaparral scented desert breezes wafting  through our open hatch and a nearly full moon shining down on us, I turned to look at Jon as he read next to me.

I can see he;s reading the book Mike from Beau Soeliel gave to us, the one he wrote about sailing around the world while raising their wonderful son, Falcon.

Jon is very tan now and his hair and beard are totally blond. He looks like a Norweigan prince. He looks wild and amazing and totally switched on, like he could be wrestling sharks or fighting Marlin's with a ten pound filament.

"whatcha reading about?" I ask.

Jon turns to me, with a look I have seen before...

I saw it when he asked me to marry him.

I saw it when my water broke ( both times).

I saw it when we bought our first house.

I saw it when he said we should buy a boat.

"Chagos" he said....and smiled.

The next morning, it was flat clam and perfect. Something we will apparently have to get used to here in the Sea. Oh poor us.

We spent the next few days reading and fishing and baking-something that DOES NOT come naturally for me but I am determined to overcome my actress-induced fear of flour and become a wizard with it.

We took the dingy around the point and had a close encounter with some fur seals, we followed a shy sea turtle and chased a couple of giant parrot fish. Kai and Jon hiked the bluffs and Hunter and I built a babrbie-opolis in the sand, in the architectural style of ancient rome -complete with a miniature colosseum where Kai's Hulk toy would do battle with Barbi-zon's. We learned about aqueducts, as we supplied our citizens with running water for their "hair-saloons"...always popular in ancient Rome.

The water was warm and we swam and swam. In the evening we watched literally HUNDREDS of baby manta rays leap and frolic in the water. It amounted to what pretty much looked like an epic Manta-frat-party-belly-flop contest. Whole pods of them would LEAP out of the water and flap their wings like crazy and SPLAT down on the water or backflip or frontflip. Maybe it was to slough off microorganisms. Maybe it was to practice mating rituals. Maybe it was the full moon. Maybe it was just fun.

We did things too. Things resembling work. There were school pages and Spanish ( which is more like fun) and things to fix and things to stow and bake and clean and make water and power and make sure we didn't sink.

And there is always boat-gym. Where Jon must hoist the dingy up and down and the engine by hand-when we lost our generator, we also lost our dingy engine hoist- now it is Big Daddy and it's not so easy on a moving sea!

One afternoon, the wind and current had picked up considerably so we had opted NOT to beach and play and explore but to attend to more important matters onboard.

Mommy and Daddy were NAPPING.

We were awakened to screams.

Hunter and Kai had been playing some version of sibling torture on the afterdeck. We were ignoring it-a learned skill -when clearly things had bumped up a notch in the fear department. Hunter was hollering and crying and her voice sounded strangely distant. Kai was shrieking something about "ROW! HUNTER! ROW!"

"I got it" I said and climbed out of bed.

I came on deck to find Kai on the swim stairs with a pale face and a haunted look.

"I untied her...BY ACCIDENT!" he yelped. " She's going out to SEA!"

Hunter, in the dingy was actually shooting away from our boat and directly out to sea. She was already a good 500 feet from the boat and moving-down current at an amazing speed.

"Go get her" I said.

"I CAN'T!" tears were actually streaming down his face.

I could see why. The chop was considerable and the wind no less so and to catch Hunter, at this point, you would have to be FAST. Then you would have to get in the dingy and either start the engine or row back against the elements-which, at this point, were plenty for a grown-up and WAY too much for Kai, never- mind Hunter.

This was clearly no time for lectures, I dove in and swam for Hunter, before she became the first 7 year old to solo the gulf of California in a 10 foot dingy.

When all were safe and sound aboard again, there was much shivering and wailing and atoning for fraternal sins and all in all an excellent lesson was learned with no harm done to person or property.

"Well, jump in and swim for her next time" I said.

"I will" Kai agreed.

This is why one can loaf around in the Sea of Cortez without feeling like a total deadbeat.

Death lurks around every corner. It may be 86 degrees and no wind but you still have to watch your shit or you are screwed if you goof around mindlessly.

Like when we left the water hose stay on and it leaked all forty gallons of our hard earned water-maker water out and we awoke to bone dry tanks.

It's a learning curve...for all of us.

I'm just glad I'm a fast swimmer.

Kai climbs over Los Frailles

Fur Sea Lion colony

serious crew

Sea of Cortez

Fruit tarts

The Captain cuts loose

Can you see the sea turtle?

A ray tries to fly