After reaching Bahia de Los Angeles it was time for the meat and potatoes section of the paddle where I started to feel the grind. The excitement of the first two weeks had worn off and the realization of how far I still had left was starting to sink in. The other thing I learned quickly in this section was that the information I had gotten off the Internet was wrong and that I had 40 miles further to go then I had thought initially. Between these two facts and some rough wind/wave conditions coming around Punta las Animas two days out of LA bay put me in a bit of a mental funk for Week 3.
The coastline in this section was a staircase down a series of bays. I would go south for a bit but then would have to go to the east and sometimes a little bit north again before I could get to the next section of dropping south again. The wind conditions would determine whether I would shortcut across the bay sometimes up to 2 miles off shore or if I would take the long way around and stick closer to shore.
I started passing larger fish camps where the fishermen spend part of the year chasing the fish. Life looks rough here. No electricity or running water. Basically they were shanties of scrap wood and tarps. Sometimes there is part of a camper, RV, or truck incorporated into the structure. The fishermen do have houses in town and are only in these camps for part of the year. They work in open boats that reminded me of the type of lifeboats you see in movies for the Titanic. Some of them look like they are not far from sinking.
Two days into this section I had my first real rough day on the water. If you get water swamping into the cockpit at launch it is a good sign that you are in for a rough ride that day. Big waves were reflecting off the cliffs making clapotis or "washing machine water". Confused seas with white caps and no rhythm or pattern to the water. I was not happy with the situation I found myself in as I traveled around Punta las Animas. It didn't go knucklehead on me but I kept getting hit by waves and was pretty wet. I was in a bit of a bad mood for several days after this. I had told people I wouldn't take risks and felt like I had pushed it when I shouldn't have.
When I reached the village of San Francisquito I saw further evidence of the hard times Baja is on between the economy collapsing a few years ago and the decreased tourism from the bad media about the drug war. Many restaurants and stores are closed due to lack of business. In San Francisquito it was somewhere in between. Part of the resort there had collapsed in an earthquake the year before but the kitchen was operating so I was able to get food, beer, and they even had Wifi when the generator was running. This ended up being a cool night of entertainment. As I screwed around on my phone checking emails and Facebook, the locals gathered for a night of drinking beer, playing guitar, and singing.
It was in this third week that I started feeling the cumulative effect on my body of paddling approximately 17 miles a day. I would crash hard in the afternoon when I would take a siesta and my rib cage muscles were really sore. I had to start balancing going long distance on days when the wind was calm versus the sustainability of being able to paddle day after day. I was trying to avoid the red zone while still making up the extra 40 miles that this section unexpectedly had.
This became the time of the full moon. It was one of the brightest moons I have ever seen. You could hike through the desert without a flashlight. I saw evidence of coyotes at almost every beach I stopped at. At night I would hear them yip and yowl, often very close to my tent. Between the bright light and all the noise it was amazing I was able to get any sleep. When I had first started the trip it had been the new moon. Without any electricity being used nearby it was the opposite at the start. It would be so dark at night that you could see an amazing amount of stars. I did notice that the North Star and the Big Dipper were lower on the horizon then I was used to since I was so far south. The entire trip lasted two full lunar cycles - 2 new moons and 2 full moons. This meant that the tide cycle also changed. Some weeks the tide was helping me but this was a week where the currents were running against me.
The landscape started to change some. I began to see palm trees and these were to become more numerous the further south I went. I continued to see whales but they were never that close. The loudness of their blowholes would alert me to their presence from a long distance off. I saw a 2 mile long parade of over a 100 dolphins all leaping out of the water at the same time. I started to see crabs on the shoreline. Turtles also began appearing but I would only see their heads. They were very shy and as soon as they saw me they would dive away. It was also in this section that I passed Isla Tortuga. I decided this must be the island from the TV show "Lost". It looked similar and seemed to be floating along with me. For days I would look to my left and it would be there, never moving. It also seemed to be creating a vortex of strong current against me.
I started having some success trolling a line behind my kayak to catch some fish for lunch. It is delicious when you can catch it, go straight to shore, and fry it up in some oil with some salt, Cajun seasoning, or garlic. It would be so fresh that the muscles would still have energy in them and try to curl and move away from the heat. Pretty much if you drag something shiny that wiggles through the water then you could catch something, especially in shallow rocky water. Silver spoon lures worked great. I didn't have a fish guide but I think I caught sand bass, trigger fish, and barracuda. The one thing I would do different "next time" would be to use a heavier test fishing line. The 15 pound test didn't cut it and I lost a lot of lures when the fish would first strike.
My mood improved as I neared Santa Rosalia. The weather/winds had gotten better, I had some nice camping spots, I realized that I wasn't going to run out of water, and I started to hit some milestones. I crossed from Baja Norte into Baja Sur and changed to the Mountain Time Zone. I also passed the halfway point a couple of days before I reached Santa Rosalia. Santa Rosalia was where I could start looking forward toward the finish instead of looking over my shoulder to see how far I had come.
Santa Rosalia was the best day of the trip. I went to the marina first where I was able to get a nice Canadian couple Russ and Gwen of the sailboat A-Train to watch my boat and gear while I ran into town. I didn't realize it until I got there that Oh Shit! it was Easter which is a huge holiday in Mexico. I met a guy in town who helped my find the supplies that I needed. Turns out that he was not from the town because he had just been deported from all places, Tacoma, Washington. Since he didn't know where anything was he just kept asking every pretty girl he came across where things were and his system seemed to work. I was able to restock on food and water, get a real meal and some cold beer, and found a WiFi connection so I could contact Kathleen and the rest of the world. It was a beautiful warm day with very calm water. I paddled out of town about 3 miles to Morro el Fraile which my research had told me was a place to camp. What it didn't say was that it was one of the coolest camping spots in the world.
I camped on a flat sandstone ledge with shells and fossils visible throughout the rock. I would jump off of the ledge and there was great snorkeling around it. From the rock there was a 270 degree view of the flat super blue water with several islands offshore and light yellow sandstone bluffs continuing to the south. The calm water created mirages where the land seemed to stretch between the islands and the mainland. Mexican families would come down to the beach and fish from the ledge by twirling weighted hooks and throwing them as far out in the water as they could.
A Mexican by the name of Javiar introduced himself. He was with his brother and their families. He caught some fish and then the wives made ceviche right there which they shared with me. The sunset that night was breathtaking since the water was so calm. The horizon turned dark topped by a layer of red and yellow. The clouds turned to various shades of crimson while the water took on a multicolored sheen that looked like when there is oil in a parking lot puddle but this was all natural. A swirl of purple, red, and yellow. I have never really seen water turn colors like this. I slept that night to the sounds of whales breathing as they passed by the ledge. One of the most magical outdoor experiences of my life.
From Santa Rosalia it was a three day paddle down to Bahia Concepcion. There were small towns along the way. I also began to see other types of boats besides pangas and Navy gunboats. I started to see lots of sailboats and some commercial fishing trawlers. The first day out of Santa Rosalia I was driven to shore early by the wind. The best place to stop was next to a house. When I went and asked if it was OK to camp they said (In Spanish), "No problem, and do you want some food and beer?". Turns out that they had a little clam shack restaurant so I got to eat well that night.
The next day I arrived in Punta Chivato which I have been calling the Beverly Hills of Baja. It is a rich American community. I stopped at the first house on Shell Beach which is so named due to the thick layer of shells on it. There I asked the owner, Russ Blackman, if there was someplace where I could find a restaurant, cold beer, and Internet. He replied that there was no restaurant but that he had plenty of cold beer and Internet. Once again the Baja Way blew me away. We hung out all day until after dark. He even found some white gas for my stove from one of his neighbors. He had been there for 30 years so he was able to fill me in on the changes that had occurred there over the years. He had all sorts of information from the history, to wildlife and fishing, and the local gossip.
From Punta Chivato south for the rest of the trip the amount of seabird life dramatically decreased. I have to guess that this had something to do with the increase in commercial fishing that I saw. Russ said that they even use helicopters to spot the schools of fish. The amount of stingrays in the water here and continuing into Bahia Concepcion was impressive and a little scary. I definitely shuffled my feet when I waded in the water to scare them away.
It was between Punta Chivato and Mulege that I saw a whale shark. I was short cutting across the bay instead of following the coastline and was about 1 1/2 to 2 miles off shore. Suddenly there was a double fin (a dorsal fin and a tail fin) sticking out of the water a short distance ahead of me. It spotted me and came over slowly doing Figure 8's around my boat. It was about 25 feet long and moved fairly slow but it did come within 6 inches with its tail and it would swim under me. I sat there for about 20 minutes watching it with my mouth hanging open in amazement. I knew they were in the Sea of Cortez but I never expected to see one. This days paddling got me to Mulege and the start of the southern section.
In Mulege I took my first full day off. My camp on the beach was literally next door to the El Patron bar. Mulege is a scenic town along a river estuary that has been hit hard by hurricanes twice in recent years (2006 and 2009 I think). It seems to be half Mexican and half American and had an international flavor to it. I met Mexicans, Americans, Canadians, Germans, and Belgians. Mulege confirmed to me that if you want to move to Baja then you need to love alcohol and fishing.
I had now been paddling for 27 days and had covered 422 miles.
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