Bahia de Los Angeles Part 2

So with little sleep and much travelling we arrived in the little town of Bahia de Los Angeles on December 19. It was noon. We fueled up the boat, ate lunch at a local Mexican restaurant, and then visited a mercado for the rest of our provisions.

At the docks the air finally left our tire as we were filling the boat with gear and putting up the main. The winds were high but we were hoping they would die down before launching. Tourists draw other tourists, so at the docks we met a couple from California and a family from British Columbia. The family from British Columbia had also pulled their boat all the way; theirs was a powerful, new motor boat. That was the guy God provided to help Bruce get the boat into the water at low tide and in windy conditions.

But I am getting ahead of myself. The older couple from California was my God send. She was a talker and told me her life's history while she helped carry the water and gear and luggage from the car to the boat. She even helped change the tire on the boat trailer, knew what tools were needed, and how to use them properly. She was some kind of engineer and you could tell with the way she stepped in and became the motherly figure I needed at that moment. Plus she sent her husband to their hotel room to make me a strong cup of coffee. I asked her secret to being married 40 years and she said it was because she learned to take charge without him knowing it. Hhmm... I think this doesn't go very well with the book I am writing about relationship in marriage.

Bruce found a man with a fenced in yard to store our vehicle and trailer while we were at sea. For a small price we left it with this man; the people really were very friendly and seemed trustworthy. At this point, we were in the water so it was time to trust that God had the details covered...hopefully when we returned we would still have a way to get back home.

It gets dark early in Baja. As soon as we were on our way, the winds got even stronger and it got dark. Completely dark. Earlier as we were packing the boat, I fell from the top into the hatch, something I managed to do while helping Bruce set up the main. I simply backed off the roof into the cabin. Anyway, now that we were underway and the wind was banging us around I was feeling it.

Then, the dinghy that was tied to the front of the boat started flopping around. While Bruce maneuvered the wind and waves I held ropes and hugged the main while trying to get the dinghy back up where it belonged. I finally gave up and told God he could take care of our little dinghy and that I wanted to live to see my children again. I safely made it back into the cabin and began to pray even harder than before. Almost immediately the wind stopped and after a long time motoring we anchored on a sand bar under a lighthouse and went to sleep. And look! We still had a dinghy. Bruce took it from the front of the boat and tied it behind us. There it remained the rest of our trip.

The next morning I discovered Bruce had motored us through the storm to almost the farthest point of where we intended to go on this trip and then because the wind was so bad and because it was so dark, and there was no way to safely anchor the boat, he turned around. He said the minute he turned the boat around and headed back toward the lighthouse the wind stopped. When I awoke the following morning I looked across the water and saw town. So yes, it was a pretty rough start. I was so thankful for a man with good sound judgement and knew that this was a big sacrifice on his part to deviate and go to plan B.

Day two we sailed as long as the wind would let us, then finished our leg of the journey by motor... That night, we anchored in a lagoon under a volcano. Bruce hiked this barren landscape and took along the Go Pro...He said the volcanic rock was so crumbly and unsteady that he was glad I had not attempted it with him. He came stumbling into camp all beat up looking and prick points in his hand where he had gotten bit by the cactus on his hike. It was pretty much straight up and down and super dangerous. Poor wife in the boat did a bit more praying and making plans for what she would do had he not returned before dark. And the wind....Terrible wind and so unfriendly...and squawking seagulls...every time I stepped off the boat they would shriek curses at me.

The habits of seagulls are quite interesting if one has nothing else to do...

That night we hunkered down in the wind and waited for morning, determined to find our elusive, sunshiny beach and seclusion where all our dreams for this trip would come true.

Day 3... And we found it! Though it was after a gimpy day of sailing, then motoring because of no wind and a down pour. We did finally manage to reach an anchorage that showed promise. At least we had hope. We spent that night drying up drips and listening to the rain. I started reading aloud a book I had taken from my mom's bookshelf and we made campfire popcorn. We finally felt safe and protected because the wind was gone.