Santa rides a Hammerhead Shark.
Christmas tables set out on Las Gatas Beach.
Santa in a Mexican
Poncho.
Alvin and the Chipmunks
movie poster.
Las Gatas Beach on Christmas Day.
A Christmas serenade on Las Gatas Beach.
Cool bongo players.
Zihuatanejo's "Parthenon."
Overgrown
streetlight.
Driveway leading to the Parthenon's gate.
The center of this mammoth gate housed vicious guard dogs.
Elegant parking area outside the gate.
Durazo loved ancient ornamentation.
The columned facade pokes out between the weeds.
Wow - we get to go in!
The cage for the guard dogs...
The cage for the tigers.
Approaching the Parthenon.
Statues fill the yard.
The Parthenon's entrance.
Looking through the front door.
Lifesize sculptures line the foyer.
The view from the foyer.
Staircase to the second floor.
Looking down at the open-air party room from the balcony.
Views of Zihuatanejo Bay.
Mirrors on the walls and ceiling of an upstairs bedroom.
Bat guano covers the jacuzzi tub in the master suite.
Marble-topped bar outside the library downstairs.
Marble dining table, murals and columns outside the kitchen.
View from the top steps of the Parthenon.
Looking back up at the mansion.
The pool bar.
Would you like a cerveza or a Margarita?
Arturo Durazo's Parthenon.
Arturo Durazo's "Parthenon" of Zihuatanejo, Mexico
Christmas, 2011 - After an easy overnight passage from Manzanillo Bay we
arrived at Isla de Ixtapa (Isla Grande) outside Zihuatanejo where we were quickly
swept up in the wild pre-Christmas beach scene. The island's three tiny beaches
were packed to overflowing with vacationers whooping it up.
A few days later, around the
corner in Zihuatanejo, we
found Christmas festivities
were revving up with just as
much enthusiasm. All the
waterfront restaurants were
decked out for the holidays,
and Christmas movies were
playing at the little cinema.
Zihuatanejo Bay is a mile-
wide bay surrounded by four beaches with lots
of options for anchoring. Last year we stayed
right next to the town, but Groovy's hull got
such a thick layer of barnacles in just 10 days' time that this year
we decided to anchor on the far side of the bay by Playa Las
Gatas where the water is cleaner.
In past years we've dreamed of a having white Christmas,
but this year our Christmas came in lovely shades of blue
water, blue sky and green palm trees. We
kayaked through throngs of people playing in
the ocean, and as we swam it felt much more
like July than December.
We hung out on Las Gatas beach all day
long on Christmas day and watched families
playing on the beach. Musicians wandered
by to offer entertainment for a "propina" (tip).
These guys hike over a challenging rock path
from the larger La Ropa beach half a mile
away. They carry whatever it is they play,
from guitars to drums to huge double
basses, as they walk on the precarious
rocks. Two of the most intriguing musicians
were a couple banging on bongos and
singing Caribbean sounding tunes. They
were from the nearest major inland city, Morelia.
Back on Groovy the following day we kept staring at a very strange
building that was perched high above the condos on the point that
juts out between two of the bay's beaches, Playa La Ropa and
Playa Madera. The building looks like a miniature Lincoln Memorial,
and last year we found out it was called "The Parthenon" and was
cloaked in a dark, mysterious history.
Built in the early 1980's by Mexico City's infamous Chief of Police,
Arturo Durazo Moreno, it stands today as a striking monument to
his excesses and wickedness. We had heard rumors that he had
ordered it built with hidden doors leading to secret tunnels that
snaked down to the sea, just in case he ever needed to escape.
Totally tantalized, we decided to go check it out.
There's no sign saying "This way to the Parthenon," but we knew
we were on the right path when we trudged up a very steep winding
road of crumbling concrete lined with ornate streetlights buried in
overgrown weeds. It was obvious the road had once been carefully landscaped and very
imposing.
Suddenly the heavy canopy of trees above us opened up and
the road approached an enormous gate. I was dwarfed by the
gate when I stood next to it, and I mused on the rumor that the
gate had been stolen from the Chapultepec castle in Mexico
City. That would have been quite a theft, but Durazo was an
impressive man fully capable of such things.
When his boyhood friend José López Portillo became
president of Mexico in 1976, Durazo's fortunes soared.
Portillo was one of Mexico's most corrupt presidents, and he
turned to loyal Durazo for his own personal security. He
appointed Durazo to be Chief of Police in Mexico City, despite
knowing that he had been under investigation in the US for
almost a year for drug trafficking. Portillo set him up to report
directly to himself rather than to the Mayor of Mexico City.
During his six year tenure Durazo turned the police force into
a racketeering empire.
What remains of the empire was buried in weeds all around us. Ornate
greco-roman architecture surrounded us, but the overgrowth was so thick
and the beauty so faded that it seemed like some cursed castle in a
children's fairytale.
We peered around the
edge of the huge gate and
could just glimpse part of
the mansion's columned
facade. Until recently, this
property was owned by the
city of Zihuatanejo. Unlike
the city leaders of El
Ajusco, home to Durazo's
other outrageous mansion
that was built at the same
time outside Mexico City--a country estate complete with artificial
lakes, a dog racing track, a clone of New York's Studio 54 club, and a
23-car garage--the city of Zihuatanejo did not turn the Parthenon into
a museum. Instead, they recently donated it to the Universidad
Autonóma de Guerrero. It was private property, but we thought it
would be so cool if we could somehow get inside to take a peek…
Suddenly the guy who had been sweeping the stone flooring
outside the gate invited us in to have a look inside -- for a
fee. We negotiated the fee to something reasonable, and lo
and behold he opened the door and let us in. I doubt he
has any kind of official relationship with the abandoned
property, but he seems to have appointed himself the
gatekeeper, for profit, and he does have a key to the
padlock. He gave us a lively tour -- in Spanish. Fortunately
a large Mexican family arrived shortly after us, and their
visiting cousin from San Diego provided us with
translations when we couldn't grasp the nuances of what
our guide said.
Just inside the gate we had a close-up
look at the cage that housed Durazo's
ferocious guard dogs. Durazo built his
empire on intimidation, and large
growling dogs were just the first stage of
welcome he offered to his arriving guests.
Next to the dog cage was the tiger cage.
We stepped inside. In its now decrepit
state fantastic roots have crept under the
walls to cover the floor, looking like a
snarled tangle of snakes. On the far side
of the yard was the crocodile pit.
A driveway leads up to the mansion, passing
several Romanesque stone sculptures on the
way. When the statues were set in beautifully
landscaped grounds, this must have been a
dramatic entrance, but now the brown
vegetation and decaying sculptures give the
place an eerie air.
Much of Durazo's fortune was made from
bribes paid by the rank-and-file police officers
under his command. He also used them as
his personal construction labor force to build
both the Parthenon and his country estate
outside of Mexico City.
He was admired worldwide for lowering
the crime rate in Mexico City and was
even honored with a prestigious award
in the Soviet Union for doing so. But his
methods were discovered to be beyond
brutal when the tortured bodies of 12
twelve Columbians suspected of bank
robbery turned up in a river.
An investigation into his practices began which ultimately
revealed his elaborate pyramid scheme of bribes and payoffs.
Entering this palatial building is like stepping into another world.
As I passed through the foyer I was so drawn to the view in front
of me that I almost missed the six recessed marble sculptures
lining the walls on either side of us.
The architecture is fantastic for a cliff-top seaside palace in a
temperate climate. Two rows of massive columns soar upwards
to a height of two tall stories to support the ceiling above,
creating a vast breezy Italian marble "patio" with stunning views
of Zihuatanejo Bay beyond.
The view is spectacular
from the ground floor,
but we knew it would be
even better from the
balcony upstairs.
Looking down at this wide marble "porch" it was
easy to imagine sumptuous parties filling the
immense, breezy, open-air room. A huge marble
dining table stands to one side, backed by yet
more columns and an expansive mural.
All the bedrooms are upstairs, and each one has
windows onto this porch that could be left open to
the fresh air or closed during bad weather. At
one time the bedroom ceilings were lined with
ornate mirrors, and the walls were covered with
painted murals and more mirrors.
This design gives each bedroom either privacy or
an open window to the lovely columned sea-
breeze room below. Now, however, groups of
bats hang from the ceilings in the corners of every
bedroom, bathroom
and closet in the
house. As we
entered each room
we heard a flurry of
bat wings as they
woke up and flew
off. Bat guano
covered every floor
and smelled terrible. At first all of Durazo's furnishing were
sold, but now it seems the building was eventually stripped
by looters. Toilets are gone, leaving gaping holes in the
floors. Electrical outlets are missing, chandeliers have
disappeared, and all that remains in the kitchen is some
broken wooden lower cabinets. Anything that could be pried
off, detached, unscrewed or removed has been taken.
Back downstairs a large marble topped bar is tucked up against the shelf-
lined, once elegant library.
You have to use your imagination a bit to picture what
life might have been like here during Durazo's reign.
From 1976 to 1982 Durazo held his police chief post
and built his empire of corruption. He extorted money
at every turn and lived a lavish lifestyle. However, upon
the arrival of a new presidential administration whose
campaign theme was Moral Renewal, Durazo fled.
An international manhunt ensued, and after charging him
in absentia with racketeering, Mexican and US authorities
tracked him down to Costa Rica in 1984 and brought him
back to trial in Mexico. Long referred to as "El Negro" or
"The Black One," Durazo was sentenced to a long prison
term (I've seen it reported as 11, 16 and 25 years) on
charges ranging from corruption to extortion, tax evasion,
smuggling, drug kickbacks and possession of illegal
weapons. He was released after less than eight years in
1992 due to ill health and good conduct. He lived out his
final days in Acapulco, redeeming himself a bit by working
with recovering alcoholics. He died of cancer in 2000.
In the mid-1980's
Durazo's chief
bodyguard José González wrote a
runaway bestseller about his evil
boss entitled "Lo Negro del 'Negro'
Durazo" or "The Black of 'the Black
One,' Durazo." A movie quickly
followed. Never allowing himself to
be out maneuvered, Durazo won a
defamation lawsuit against his
former aide from behind prison
bars.
Stepping out from the vast patio I
stood at the top of a grand stone
staircase that leads down to a
swimming pool and spacious pool bar.
The stagnant brown water in the pool
had been there for years, but it was
easy to imagine delicious days of
relaxing poolside next to the
ornately columned rotunda bar as
all of Zihuatanejo Bay stretched
towards the horizon in the
distance.
Returning to the main building our
guide led us down into the
basement where he thumped on a
large section of the floor to show
that it was hollow. He pointed to
irregularities in the flooring where it
had been sealed and explained that this was the entrance to the secret
tunnels that go down to the sea. Durazo had indeed built himself an
escape route, but he had been caught while abroad and had never
used it.
We left the Parthenon with our heads spinning. We had had no idea that the intriguing looking building on
the hill harbored such secrets. The enthusiasm of the Mexican family who toured with us also made us
realize that the legacy of Arturo Durazo is well known here. "Haven't you read the book or seen the
movie?" they asked. We had never even heard of the book or the movie, but within a few days we had the
movie in our possession from one of the bootleg DVD sellers at the Mercado Publico. The book may be
harder to find at a reasonable price because it is out of print.
Besides this cool, mysterious palace, Zihuatanejo/Ixtapa has many other charms that kept us in town
until mid-January.
Find Zihuatanejo on Mexico Maps
Visit Anchorages on Mexico's Southern Pacific Coast to see more cruising posts from this area!
PV: Paradise Village – The Lap of Luxury
Two of Carlos Slim's three megayachts, "Tulley" and "Ostar," at Marina de La Paz.
Mariachis cap a perfect evening.
Waiting out a Norther in Bahía Falsa.
Clipped in while crossing the Sea of Cortez.
Coconut palms!
Banana trees!
Wendy grinds his yummy
French Roast.
Welcome to Paradise.
One of the swimming pools.
Eggs Benedict or Huevos Rancheros?
Grady the Cockatoo says "¡Hola!"
Tiger mom.
The Welcome Event was a colorful spectacle.
Future Flamenco dancers.
Baja Ha-Ha mothership Profligate
Crocodile Zone!
Iguana sunning himself.
Wild coatimundi in the grass near a bus stop.
Beach chairs at Paradise Village.
Paradise Village.
Playing in the surf.
Cartwheels: the essence of
little girlhood on the beach.
A snowy egret high-steps it out of
the waves.
Vallarta Yacht Club.
Bougainvillea on the docks.
This place gets a grip on you.
Paradise Village
Late November/Early December, 2011 - We returned to La Paz from
the nearby anchorages to find ourselves suddenly caught up in the
lives of the rich and famous. Two megayachts were parked at Marina
de La Paz: the 140' Tulley and the 182' Ostar. Both belong to the
world's richest man, Carlos Slim (his other 200+ foot megayacht is in
the Caribbean!). Excitement filled the air the day Carlos arrived.
"Which one is he?" I asked as the entourage appeared. "The one with
the sunglasses." "But they all have sunglasses!"
A friend of ours is the captain of a neighboring megayacht, and he
invited us to his birthday party along with his buddy, the captain of
Ostar and his wife (who is also a captain but is currently enjoying the
high life on Ostar instead). Wow. How often do you get to peak in the
door of the world of the ultra rich? The stories these captains could
tell -- but can't due to contracts they've signed! The wine flowed, the
food was divine and above it all the music of the mariachi singers soared.
Out in Bahía Falsa a few days later, Mark played mellower tunes on his
guitar as we waited out a series of Northers that were blasting down the
Sea of Cortez. This was the ideal location to sit out these vicious storms.
We had tolerable winds and flat seas in our safe little nook, but the radio
crackled with chatter as one unattended boat dragged into another back in
the main La Paz anchorage. Helpful cruisers around the anchorage
located the owner of one of the boats in the US and relayed messages
from him to get the combination to the padlock, the location of the ignition
key, and the location of the battery switch for the anchor windlass.
It pays to wait for
a good weather
window when
crossing the Sea
of Cortez, and
we got the perfect slot. We romped along close-hauled for 15 hours
at a blistering 7.5 knots and we motor-sailed the rest of the way,
zipping from Los Frailes to La Cruz five hours faster than we'd
planned. The seas were calm and the wind was warm on our faces,
and when we weren't on watch we each slept well. What an
incredible contrast to last year's roller coaster ride from hell on these
same waters where the teapot took a nosedive right off the stove and
the waves bore down on us like frothing beasts hissing at us from
above. Now we realize we crossed during a Norther last year.
The downside to our lickety-split speed was that it put us in port in the
wee hours of the morning in the pitch black. Fortunately, we knew the
La Cruz anchorage from last spring, but the twelve mile approach was
littered with small fishing pangas. Mark kept his eyes glued to what he
could see of the horizon through the binoculars while mine were glued to
the radar. The pangas kept materializing out of nowhere. They would
flash their flashlights at us frantically as we drew near and we'd flash
ours back to let them know we'd seen them.
We got the anchor down without a hitch,
43 hours after leaving Los Frailes, and
fell asleep almost before our heads hit
the pillow. Next morning as we
wandered around La Cruz it slowly sank
in that we were no longer in desert of
Baja California any more. We were in the lush, verdant, moist
tropics. The palm trees sported coconuts and the bananas
were thick on the trees.
The most important stop for us in La Cruz was at Garleria
Huichol in Octopus's Garden where a Frenchman named
Wendy roasts the most delicious French Roast coffee. We
stocked up and enjoyed a cup under the shade of a
cuastecomate tree.
The real reason we crossed the Sea to Banderas Bay (home of Puerto Vallarta) was to treat
ourselves to an early Christmas present with a stay at the incomparable Paradise Village
Marina. It is just a few miles from La Cruz, and we waited until we were fully rested from our
crossing before we headed over so we could make the most of every minute of our stay. As we
tied up at the dock a neighbor came over to greet us. "Are you here for good?" He asked. I
hesitated, puzzled. "Um, no, just five days… Are you here for good?" "Oh yeah!" Then we
discovered another neighbor had just signed up for his fifth year. As soon as we started walking
around the resort we began to understand why these guys weren't leaving. It's that nice.
Paradise Village is a huge complex of hotels, shops, villas, condos,
marina, golf course, beach, pools, spa and hot tubs located in Nuevo
Vallarta some 10 miles from downtown Puerto Vallarta.
The grounds are lavish, and lush, the dining areas are elegant, the
pools have a view of the expansive beach, and the spa can deliver
every possible body treatment you could dream of.
To keep the kids happy there is a building where vacationing
parents can drop them off for a day of supervised activities, and to
keep everyone happy there is a mall with all the favorite fast food
eateries from McDonalds to Starbucks.
After two months of living on the hook in a salty,
rolling home, I was dumbstruck when I went into the
women's showers in the spa and discovered a
candle-lit hot tub waiting for me. And boy, was I
ever clean when I finally emerged!
In the mornings the eager joggers ran around the
extensive grounds and up and down the miles long
beach. In the evenings couples strolled the paths hand in hand under the
stars. A small flock of macaws and a cockatoo added a tropical note to the air
with their raucous cries, and a pair of tigers in the middle of it all nursed a pair
of month-old cubs, the latest two of 76 that have been raised at the resort.
When we checked into the marina we were told
there was a "Welcome Event" that night with free
food and drinks at the amphitheater. What a
surprise to find rows of margaritas, piña coladas
and rum punches next to endless platters of finger
food and a huge crowd of vacationers taking seats
in front of an outdoor stage!
An emcee appeared and the colorful
show burst into action with all kinds
of dancing, audience participation
games and laughter.
We were treated to a special show
right in front of our seats as a little
girl and boy did their own dance
moves.
The marina has a cool layout
where all the boats are lined up
against the shoreline as it curves
along an estuary.
We took the kayak out one day
to explore the estuary a little
further, and were shocked to find
that our friends on Ostar had
followed us from La Paz and
parked at the end of the dock.
They must have liked our Groovy
travel plans.
Another boat in residence was
Profligate, the catamaran
mothership of the Baja Ha-Ha
cruising rally that takes boaters from
San Diego to Cabo San Lucas each fall.
Unfortunately its owners had returned
to the US and it was closed up tight.
Paddling down the estuary we passed many beautiful boats sitting out
in front of equally beautiful homes. Eventually we passed under a
bridge and turned away from civilization into the crocodile zone.
We didn't see any crocodiles but there were lots of exotic birds in the
trees and quite a few iguanas sunning themselves.
Unusual animals seemed to be the theme at
Paradise Village. Even when we took the city bus
to go provision at the supermarket we passed a
group of coatimundi scavenging in the grass.
So far we had explored only the
back side of the resort where the
boats and the estuary are. Out
front is an enormous beach that
stretches to the horizon and
seems to go on forever. Resorts
line the beach as far as the eye
can see, and each resort has a
collection of beach chairs and
thatch shade ramadas out front.
We took some wonderful, quiet
early morning walks along the sand. Later each day the beach would
be hopping with vacationers catching rays and playing in the surf.
Canadians and
Americans weren't the
only snowbirds enjoying
the warm air and warm
water. Several snowy
egrets were fishing along
the water's edge too.
The Vallarta Yacht Club
is an active social club
for all kinds of winter
residents, both boaters
and non-boaters alike. Visitors to the marina can enjoy the
yacht club's amenities too, and one afternoon we strolled down
for a beer and some free wifi. After an hour or so we noticed
the place was getting very busy. A woman came over and
asked, "Are you new members?"
We explained we were
"temporary" members through the
marina. She welcomed us warmly
and headed over to a large table
of delicious looking hors
d'oeuvres that had magically
appeared. We followed her
example and loaded up a plate
full of delicious goodies.
The crowd kept getting bigger,
and then another woman
asked us if we were new
members. "We must really
stand out!" Mark chuckled.
Just then a fellow with a microphone stood up right next to our table and said to the crowd,
"I want to welcome all our new members to New Member Night!" Suddenly we were in the
middle of a round of introductions and a microphone was thrust in my hand so I could
introduce Mark and myself to the group. "Gosh," I said to all the grinning faces, "We just
came down here for a beer and to get our email -- and then the party showed up!"
Another day we ended up on a timeshare tour of the nearby
Villa del Palmar resort. The freebies on offer were 1,300
pesos in cash ($100), a certificate for a week's stay at one
of their resorts for $249 when redeemed, and a one-week
pass to enjoy all the amenities of the resort here. It's not
that we couldn't find enough to do at the resort we were
already staying at, but we'd seen the
sister resort of Villa del Palmar in
Ensenada Blanca in the Sea of Cortez and
we were intrigued. A delicious gourmet
breakfast with a salesman, a resort tour
and an hour on the hot seat was all it took
to pocket our cool cash. This cruising life
is paying off.
It was really hard to tear ourselves away from Paradise Village, and we
envied the cruisers who had tied their boats up there semi-permanently.
But the warm air that had blown us across the Sea of Cortez had turned
cool in the evenings and the water that had been 80 degrees at the
beginning of the week had suddenly dropped to 69. It was time to go
south to Manzanillo Bay.
Find La Cruz, Puerto Vallarta and Banderas Bay on Mexico Maps.
La Paz: Doing The “La Paz Waltz” and Hiding from Northers
Breaching whale on the malecón.
La Paz cathedral.
Hilly streets of La Paz neighborhoods.
Carrying meat to the market.
The Mexican Navy checks us out.
It was an easy boarding.
Cruising Mexico
Off the Beaten Path
Mark opens up the hot water heater on the dock.
The offending stainless steel tube that needed
a bead welded around the sleeve joint.
Super Burrito, home of great carne asada tacos.
Real coke and yummy tacos for two, all for $8.
Wind travels in the direction of the arrows.
Green=14 mph.Yellow=18mph. Red=24mph
Wind travels from the hook of the hockey stick.
White is light wind and dark blue is heavy wind.
The La Paz Waltz causes anchored boats to collide.
Boston, Massachusetts tides.
La Paz, Mexico tides.
The new Comercial Mexicana Mega supermarket.
Mega is big enough to
require an escalator.
Mega claims to be cheaper than Walmart.
Plenty of fresh produce.
A channel buoy was blown ashore in
the Norther.
Playa Bonanza: tents for kayaking
guests on the beach.
Kayakers get ready to leave.
Off they go.
Sunset at Playa Bonanza.
A ferry heads into Bahía Pichilingue next to Bahía Falsa.
Bahía Falsa has a small beach bar in the sand.
Bahía Falsa.
Bahía Falsa.
Come finish this developer's dream!
A pelican pretends he's a heron in
the mangroves.
Beach bar at Bahía Falsa.
A fun spot to get a beer, barefoot.
Richard, Volker and Petra on a
transcontinental cycling tour of the
Americas.
Pedaling off to the ferry.
La Paz, Playa Bonanza and Bahía Falsa, Mexico
Mid November, 2011 - This is the time of year in the Sea of Cortez when the winter
weather patterns begin to dominate, and a Norther was predicted to blast us with a
few days of brisk north winds. That was enough to send us out of the exposed
island anchorages outside La Paz and into the safe refuge of the bay of La Paz for
a while. We walked the now-familiar malecón while the wind whipped up the seas out
at the islands, as unconcerned about the sea state as any breaching whale might be.
After a month in the small remote
anchorages of the Sea of Cortez, it was great
to walk the urban streets of La Paz and
gather all those provisions that only a city can
offer. Our daily walks took us all over town,
past historic churches and up and down the
steep hilly neighborhood streets. Many of the
streets were now filled with memories from
our visit last spring, and we knew exactly
where to go to find our favorite bakery, the
bank, the marine chandlery and the
supermarket. It felt good to know our way
around town.
On our way into La Paz
we were boarded by
the Mexican Navy for
the first time this
season, our fourth time in two years. Now it is a familiar and
easy affair. This boarding was conducted while we were
underway, and we didn't even need to stop motoring. One
man nimbly came aboard Groovy to review our paperwork and
fill out his forms while his crewmates putted alongside our boat
in their panga. Once he was done he climbed back into their
boat and they were off. Fast and easy.
Not quite so easy was the leak we had developed in the hot water
heater. Marine hot water heaters use the heat of the engine to
heat the boat's fresh water by sending the hot antifreeze from the
engine through a hose to the hot water
heater where it envelops the tank and
heats up the water. The steel pipe supporting the connection between
our antifreeze hose and our hot water tank had developed a leak and
needed to be welded. Mark took the hot water heater to the dock in the
dinghy and handed it off to the highly recommended La Paz stainless
steel expert, Sergio Galindo.
He repaired the leak, but
in the end, we paid more
for him to weld the joint
than it would have cost
to buy a brand new hot
water heater and have it
shipped from the US to
Mexico. Ouch.
Without a doubt, Mexico's finest marine stainless steel fabricator is the creator
of our solar panel arch, Alejandro Ulloa, in Ensenada. His exquisite and artistic
craftsmanship is not only clever and functional, it was very affordable and
enhances the look of our boat. He was a pleasure to work with and his
polished welds are a thing of beauty.
We put the frustrating water heater repair behind us, and enjoyed
being return visitors to La Paz, seeking out our favorite haunts.
The colorful restaurant Super Burrito has terrific beef tacos, and
we had a feast topped off with "original" Coke in old style glass
bottles and formulated with sugar rather than high fructose corn
syrup.
We kept an eye on the developing Norther on the two weather
websites we use in the Sea of Cortez: www.sailflow.com and
www.passageweather.com. Northers appear in the Sea when high
pressure builds in the "four corners" area in the US (the juncture of
Arizona, Utah, Colorado and New Mexico) and low pressure builds in
southern Mexico. This causes the wind to get sucked down the Sea
in a wild blast.
We were anchored in the well protected large bay in front of town. It is a long,
skinny, shallow bay and the tides sweep in and out creating very strong currents first
in one direction and then in the other. In light winds all the anchored boats face one
way for a few hours and then the other way in an orderly fashion as the tides turn.
However, when the wind pipes up during a Norther, some boats respond to the
current while others
respond to the wind.
This results in the La
Paz Waltz where each
boat does its own
dance steps to the
tune of either the
current or the wind,
depending on
its hull design and the
state of the tide. They
all end up facing in
different directions.
Sometimes boats actually sail into each other, usually in rather slow motion.
We watched our neighbors fend off an unattended boat that kept pursuing
theirs like a hunter chasing its prey.
The tides in Mexico -- and all of the west coast -- are very
different than the tides I grew up with in New England. On
most of the east coast the tides march along in a steady
procession, going all the way from one extreme to the other
every six hours. Here the tides do a little blip at the mid-tide
between the extreme high and extreme low, producing a
kind of false high and false low tide on the way in and out.
This is confusing, as a high tide may or may not actually be
"high." Also, the maximum range of the tides in La Paz is
just over 5 feet whereas in Boston it is almost 15 feet.
Although we were getting a kick out of
already knowing many of the hot spots in
town, La Paz had one amazing new
addition that had arrived since we were
last here six months ago. The
supermarket chain Comercial Mexicana
had the grand opening of their Mega store
the week we were there.
We grabbed a grocery cart on the ground
floor and rode the escalator with it up to
the main shopping floor. Two stories and
an escalator -- that's a pretty big store!
Strutting their stuff against nearby
Walmart, they displayed two identical
shopping carts to prove Mega is about 10%
cheaper.
Inside the store the produce section was very
large, and the special Gringo area featured Costco's Kirkland brand products
in their signature oversized containers. Peanut-butter pretzels -- yay!
When the weather settled down we went back
out to the pretty anchorages that lie within a two
hour sail from town. Getting to the open ocean
from La Paz requires going down a long narrow
channel. It is several miles long, dredged to a
good depth and marked with large buoys. As
we were leaving Mark carefully noted each pair of buoys when we
passed between them and searched for the next pair up ahead.
Accidentally slipping outside the channel here would put us hard
aground. Suddenly he said, "I can't find the next green buoy!" We
looked and looked and it just wasn't there. Then we spotted it -- on the
beach. The powerful swell from the Norther had uprooted this huge
buoy and tossed it on shore.
Playa Bonanza is a long white beach
that is deserted except for a small eco-
tourism camp at one end. Five canvas
tents for guests are tucked into this
corner and two tents are reserved for
the guides and for cooking. When we
arrived a colorful collection of kayaks
and kayakers was lined up at the edge
of the water. Within a few minutes
they all took off and disappeared
around the point, and we had the
beach to ourselves.
Later that evening the guides returned
without the kayakers and relaxed on
the beach with a small fire and some
fresh caught fish. The next day they
vanished for a while to return with
another group of kayakers and the
pattern repeated itself. That's not a
bad gig: hosting vacationing kayakers
for a few hours each day and kicking
back on the beach in between.
Another day we sailed
over to Bahía Falsa, a
large bay with several
beaches, some
mangroves and a beach
bar under some thatched
shade ramadas. A pile of
kayaks lay to one side
waiting to be rented.
Bahía Falsa lies next to Bahía Pichilingue which is the big commercial
harbor and ferry dock outside of town. Ferry boats cross between
Mazatlan on the mainland and La Paz every day, and we watched lots
of ferries and other large ships going in and out of the harbor.
Around the corner we found an unfinished and abandoned building with
a steeply pitched round roof over an arch-encircled room or patio. It is
on its own private beach, just begging for someone to finish the dream.
At the far back of the cove there is a
cluster of mangroves, and sure enough
lots of mangrove types of leggy birds
live there. We snuck up on a few in the
kayak and caught them on camera, but
most of the pictures were a flurry of
flapping wings and blurred legs and
feet as the birds flew off.
One afternoon while relaxing at the beach bar we noticed three German
cyclists enjoying themselves a few tables down. Their heavily ladened
touring bicycles were leaning on a fence nearby. We went over to talk to
them and discovered they are on an epic cycling adventure.
"Where are you coming from?" I asked. "Anchorage,
Alaska." My eyes got wide. "And where are you going?"
"Argentina." My jaw dropped. It turned out these guys
had left Anchorage in the spring of 2011 and planned to
get to Argentina in the winter of 2013. Volker and Petra
had started their adventure together. They met Richard
on the road and he decided to merge his cycling
adventure with theirs as far as Puerto Escondido
south of Acapulco.
The trio were on their way to the ferry dock to catch
the overnight ferry to Mazatlan. They climbed onto
their bikes and we watched them ride up the long
grind towards Bahía Pichilingue.
A while later, while pedaling our kayak towards
Groovy, we saw their small forms high on the ridge,
pedaling towards their South American dreams. Soon
we would be continuing our travel dreams across the
Sea of Cortez in Paradise Village.
Find Playa Bonanza, Bahía Falsa and La Paz on
Read about our experiences in the La Paz area in
April, 2011 here.
La Paz: Isla Coyote, Isla San Francisco & Isla Partida – Remote Islands
Salt mine ruins at Bahía Salinas.
Isla Coyote framed by the mountains of Isla San Jose in the distance.
Statue on Isla Coyote.
Manuel, 50-year
resident of Isla Coyote.
The "Whale Museum" on Isla Coyote.
Whale spine.
Every house has a view.
Looking down from Isla Coyote.
Groovy waits patiently.
View from Isla Coyote.
The community chapel.
Solar panels provide electricity to each building.
Isla San Francisco beach.
Baja mountains as seen from Isla San Francisco.
A yellow-rumped warbler visits
us on Groovy.
Mark buries our feathered friend.
Charter boat - life of luxury.
A cocktail party on the beach.
Mark dives for Euros.
20 Euro note.
20 Peso note.
The dramatic cliffs of Islas Espiritu Santos.
Puerto Balandra - turquoise beauty amid towering mountains.
Sunset in Puerto Balandra
Isla Coyote, Isla San Francisco & Puerto Balandra
Early November, 2011 - Continuing south from the Loreto area, we enjoyed some
downwind sailing and stopped for a brief overnight at Bahía Salinas at the base of
Isla San Jose. This is a small bay that used to be home to a salt mine. The ruins
of the buildings and even some old vehicles are scattered just up from the beach.
The Sea of Cortez has many abandoned structures, from buildings once used in
small industries like salt mining and fishing to tourist hotels and housing
developments that never got off the ground.
There is one unique, tiny island, however,
that is covered with dollhouse-sized buildings
that are still lovingly maintained. Just a tenth
of a mile or so across, it is clear even from
out in the anchorage that every possible
square inch of Isla Coyote sports a small
building or patio.
Sculptures, sea shell
arrangements and
other creative
decorations are
scattered about the
grounds.
As we motored ashore
towards the two-
dinghy-sized beach,
we were met by a man
who introduced himself
as Manuel. He
graciously tied up our dink and invited us to
walk around the island and explore.
He told us that he had lived on the island for
fifty years and had raised his kids here.
A few steps from the beach he showed us
the "Whale Museum," a collection of whale
bones with a little sign listing the kinds of
whales: sperm, finback, pilot.
Only the sheer cliffs on the east side of Isla
Coyote are bare. The rest of the island is
packed with the homey signs of a simple life
well lived.
Isla Coyote is tall enough that
each one- or two-room building has a
wonderful and unobstructed view.
A little trail snakes up the hill
between the buildings. It is a
three minute walk from the
beach to the bluff at the peak.
There is a whimsy and
charm here that speaks of
a happy group of families
that made a life here on
this miniature island for
many years. At one time
this tiny island was home
to 30 people.
Manuel told us his wife was
currently living in La Paz while
his son attends university
there. He stays out here on
the island to keep an eye on
things. "It's just me and my
dog Luna here," he said to me
in Spanish, although he did
have a friend Roberto staying
with him when we visited. His
only other company is occasional cruisers that drop by and daytripping
tourists that take a four mile boat ride out from the tiny seaside village of
San Evaristo on the Baja mainland.
He keeps in touch with the
world via VHF radio and cell
phone, but he doesn't have
a TV.
Each building has a solar
panel on a stick outside,
and down on the beach
there was a collection of
large drums that held the
fresh water he had just
received from San Evaristo.
San Evaristo is also the source of most of his provisions.
A tiny chapel has a commanding view of the bay, and another building is covered
with a pretty mural depicting the undersea world.
Around the corner from Isla Coyote is a favorite cruiser
destination, Isla San Francisco. We had loved this
classic anchorage last spring and thoroughly enjoyed
visiting it again this fall. The water was amazingly
clear, and when I went snorkeling I saw several large
brown eels cruising around under the anchored boats.
They had mouths like moray eels and they swam with
them wide open. I kept my distance! A beautiful
mobula ray also flew past me slowly under water.
The mountains in the distance cast dramatic shadows in the morning light,
and we sat in the cockpit in the mornings and evenings, mesmerized by
our surroundings.
Up on deck one afternoon I heard a faint
chirping and watched a tiny bird land in
our cockpit. We were in the midst of
moving Groovy from one end of the
anchorage to the other, and when I
started the engine the bird vanished.
Once we dropped the hook again he
suddenly reappeared in the cabin. He
had taken the cross-harbor ride with us down below. He seemed
unsteady on his feet and kept closing his eyes and nodding off as he
perched on our table in the cabin. I offered him a dish of water and
some bread but he kept his eyes closed while I looked him up in our
bird book. He turned out to be a female yellow-rumped warbler, a
migrating bird that spends summers between northern California and
British Columbia and winters in Mexico. This tiny fluff of a bird had
just flown 1,200 miles or more. No wonder she was tired.
We went about our business that evening, but our little bird friend got weaker and weaker. Finally she
stretched out on her side and closed her eyes for the last time. We were both very sad. We had
hoped a good night's sleep on Groovy would revive her spirits. Mark made a little coffin from a yogurt
container and the next day we went ashore and buried her on a ridge with a beautiful view.
Ensenada Grande (on Isla Partida, the northern island of Las
Islas Espiritu Santos) had been another favorite stop on our
way north last spring, and we dropped in for a few nights on
our current trek south. We had been seeing more and more
charter boats in the last few anchorages, and at Ensenada
Grande we parked right next to a beautiful big power boat in
the middle of the turquoise bay. We watched the crew get out
the snorkeling gear and launch the kayaks and mix the drinks
and break up the bags of ice and all kinds of other things
while the guests kicked back on a high deck with a view.
A crew member dinghied
ashore and set up some
beach umbrellas and beach
chairs. Soon the guests were enjoying a shaded cocktail
party on the beach. What a life.
That evening we saw the same beautiful sunset from our
cockpit as they did, but we'd had to launch our own kayak
and dig out our own snorkeling gear earlier in the day.
Mark and I snorkeled along the rocks, admiring the many
brightly colored fish. They come with all kinds of trim, from
stripes to polka dots to loud, flamboyant patterns. All of a
sudden Mark pointed at the sand and I saw the corner of a
blue 20 peso note waving slowly from under a rock.
"Cool!!" I thought, "That's enough for a beer at a beach
bar!" (20 pesos is about $1.50). We grinned goofy grins at
each other through our masks. Mark reached for the
money and then pointed excitedly at the corner. It was a
20 Euro note!! Wow. Make that beers and dinner for two!!
(20 Euros is about $27). Cruising is paying off.
A swell came in overnight, making the boat prance in the waves and keeping us up all night. In the forward berth
you were tossed in the air as the boat jumped and fell in the waves. In the aft berth you were in a perfect
soundboard that magnified the crashing thunder of the stern pounding the water.
In total frustration we
got up at 3 a.m. and
watched the movie
Terminator with the
volume turned way up.
It is an interesting
experience to get
absorbed in a movie
like that while your
theater seat and movie
screen are flying all
over the place.
The weather was
getting iffy, and we didn't want to risk another sleepless night, so we continued south along
the spectacular cliffs of Islas Espiritu Santo.
We made one more stop at
lovely Puerto Balandra as we
continued towards La Paz. This
bay is the quintessential tropical
anchorage that lies at the heart
of most cruising dreams. The
water is an exquisite shade of
aquamarine, the white sand
beaches are truly white and
almost powdery, and the rocky
mountains undulate around the
bay in a snug embrace.
More charter boats showed up to enjoy an
afternoon of perfection in paradise, and we sat in
the middle of it all with binoculars, cameras, drinks
and snacks in arm's reach. This was our delicious
prize, our reward after a sleepless night. The thing
about these moments of bliss in nirvana is that you
can earn them from the workaday world and jet
down to the tropics where a crew or resort staff
caters to your every need. Or you can slog it out
on a small rolling boat, at the mercy of the weather,
snorkeling for Euros, and repairing the many things
that break on board. Either way the price is paid
and the handsome reward of a few precious
moments in paradise becomes emblazoned in your
memory forever.
Those moments are brief, however, and an impending Norther sent us into safety and the urban thrills of La Paz.
Read about our experiences in Isla San Francisco, Ensenada Grande
and Puerto Balandra in April, 2011 here and here.
Find Isla San Francisco, San Evaristo, Ensenada Grande, and Puerto Balandra on Mexico Maps.
Sailboat Solar – Installing Solar Power & a Solar Panel Arch on a Boat
Groovy's solar panels.
Happy panels in full sun, Sea of Cortez.
Full sun & no shade (3 panels working): 22.5 amps
One panel partially shaded (2 panels working): 15 amps.
Shade straddles two panels (only 1 panel working): 9.5 amps.
Polished welds and drilled/tapped/screwed joints.
Liquid Metal
Comparison: Factory weld on our Hunter arch.
The arch extension arrives for a fitting.
Alejandro tie-wraps it in place.
Mark helps hold it up.
The extension is in place -- without its legs yet.
Jose checks if it's level.
The arch extension returns -- now with support legs.
It's maneuvered into place.
Telescoping davit arm (marine solar panel arch)
Held in place with tie-downs.
Looking good!
Alejandro drills and taps holes in the arch.
The solar panels are ready!
Arch extension removed from Groovy while Alejandro drills
and taps the arch on the boat.
Heave ho!!
The second panel is installed.
Three panels - yay!
Alejandro and Mark test the strength of the arch extension.
Mark begins the big job of wiring it all up.
Component layout: 3 panels, combiner
box, controller & 4 batteries
Combiner box (upper left) and controller (lower right).
Wiring the panels.
All done.
In use 18 months later in Puerto Vallarta.
Sailing in Huatulco.
Sailboat Solar Power & Solar Panel Arch Installation
This page describes the solar power setup we installed on Groovy, our Hunter 44DS
sailboat. This was our third solar installation. Our two RV solar installations are described
here: RV Solar Installations, and we have a boatload of info here: Mobile Solar Power
.We learned a lot from those installations, and have written lots of details about solar power on
this website, including a multi-part Solar Power Installation Tutorial for beginners. Going
into far more detail, we have a 4-part primer on battery charging which includes:
-- The basics of multi-stage charging
-- How converters, inverter/chargers and engine alternators REALLY work
-- How to optimize a solar charge controller
-- What happens when TWO systems (like solar/alternator) operate at once?.
The company Kyocera
Solar liked our solar
panel installation so
much, they featured
OVERVIEW
For comparison, our solar power installations have consisted of
the following:
(1) 130 watt/12 volt Kyocera solar panel
(1) Morningstar 10 amp charge controller
Various 150 watt to 800 watt portable and
semi-portable modified sine wave inverters
(2) Energizer 6 volt batteries in series (220 amp-hours).
(1) 130 watt/12 volt Kyocera and (3) 120 watt/12 volt Misubishi solar panels (490 watts total), wired in series
(1) Outback 60 amp MPPT charge controller
(1) 2,000 watt pure sine wave inverter permanently mounted
(4) Trojan 105 6 volt batteries wired in series and in parallel (440 amp hours).
(3) 185 watt/24 volt Kyocera solar panels (555 watts total), wired in parallel
(1) Combiner box (combines 3 panel wires into 1 going to the charge controller)
(1) Xantrex 60 amp MPPT charge controller
(1) 600 watt pure sine wave inverter
(1) Xantrex 2500 watt modified sine wave inverter/charger
(4) Mastervolt AGM 4D batteries, (1) Group 27 AGM battery (710 amp-hours)
Notes: (1) Our odd collection of panels on the Hitchhiker was due to the Kyocera 130 panels not being available at the time of
our installation (we brought one over from the Lynx). (2) Our switch from the Outback to the Xantrex charge controllers between
the Hitchhiker and the boat was due to the Xantrex being cooled by non-moving fins rather than a fan. In hindsight I would
probably use the Outback charge controller in the future only because it displays more information on its screen rather than
having to scroll through multiple screens to get the voltage, amperage, watts and charging stage. (3) Our Group 27 start battery
on the boat is isolated from the set of 4D house batteries only when the voltage of the bank drops too low.
The boat has a DC refrigerator and a DC freezer which together eat up some 100-130 amps or more every 24 hours, depending
on ambient temperature. In addition we listen to music on the stereo with multiple speakers and a large subwoofer, we watch
DVD's many nights on a 22" TV, we use two laptops for several hours everyday. We also have a water pump, electric flush
heads and VHF radio which we use at anchor. Our cabin lighting is a combination of fluorescent and LED, and our anchor light is
LED. So our typical daily amperage use at anchor is between 180 and 250 amps.
In December, around the winter solstice, on the southern mainland of Mexico (Zihuatanejo) our solar setup collected about 170
amp-hours per day. In June, around the summer solstice, in the middle of the Sea of Cortez (San Carlos) our solar setup
collected about 250 amp-hours per day. In hindsight, it would be nice to have at least 750 watts of solar power to meet our
power demands in winter.
PARTIAL SHADE KILLS SOLAR POWER PRODUCTION
The biggest problem with installing solar power on a sailboat is accidentally getting a little shade on the panels. While swinging at
anchor, the mast, boom, radome and other things high up all conspire to throw pockets of shade on the solar panels and make
them quit working. It is quite shocking to find out just how little shade is needed to reduce the panels to zero output. We had
experimented a bit with partial shading issues on our fifth wheel solar installation (see bottom of Solar Setup), but we never park
near shading objects so it is not a problem on that moveable home. A sailboat is a whole different story.
An interesting paper Shade Effects on Conventional PV (5th article down) from the Physics Department at the University of
Arizona describes how shading just half of one row of "squares" on a solar panel -- as often happens in the morning or afternoon
hours on a commercial installation if the rows of panels are placed too close together -- the panels shut down or reduce their
output significantly. The opening sentence says it all: A panel that is 8% shaded loses 94% of its productivity." Deep down in the
meat of this paper the math lost me (sigh), but for a layman's explanation of just how devastating shade can be on solar panels,
this website delivers the skinny.
We placed our panels as high and as far back from the boom as we could. We also pull the boom aside while at anchor, but the
panels still get shaded by the mast/forestay/radome when the sun is forward of the shrouds and they get shaded by the sails
when sailing. As an experiment, we took some notes about how partial shade affects our panels. This data was taken on
February 3rd at 10:00 a.m. The shade was caused by the mast, forestay and radome (affixed to the front of the mast). The
shade moved slowly back and forth across the panels as the boat swung at anchor.
Panels in full sun:
22.5 amps
One panel partly shaded:
15.5 amps
Two panels slightly shaded:
9.5 amps
As another experiment we sailed and noted the amperage
produced by the solar panels as we sailed on two different
tacks. On one tack the mainsail shaded one entire end panel
and half of the middle panel. On the other tack the boat was
heeled away from the sun but there was no shade on any of
the panels. It was far better to be heeling away from the sun
than to have the panels shaded. This data was taken at 11
a.m. on January 31.
1½ panels fully shaded by sails:
10 amps
No shade, tilted away from sun:
24.5 amps
So it seems to me that shade is the number one enemy of solar panel power production on a sailboat, and orientation towards
the sun is a lot less important. If the solar panels are installed in such a way that a nearby radome or wind generator is always
partly shading one panel in the array, as too often happens in solar panel installations on sailboats, the result will be dramatically
reduced power production.
THE ARCH EXTENSION
Our boat came with a fantastic arch that supports the traveler. We used it as a base for an elegant stainless steel extension that
supports the three panels. We hired Allejandro Ulloa of Ensenada, Mexico to create this arch extensions. Alejandro is an artist
and a master craftsman. And he is extremely professional. We gave him a sketch of what we were looking for, he responded
with a written quote for half of what it would have cost in San Diego, and we were off and running.
Alejandro prides himself on the beauty of his work. He polishes the welds and installs tubing that
seems to flow like liquid metal as it rounds corners and changes thicknesses. In our opinion, his
arch extension dramatically increased the esthetics of our boat. It also added functionality
besides just supporting the panels. It makes a great spot for hanging on when you're sitting in
the rear jump seats, it has a
telescoping davit system,
and the panels provide
much needed shade.
If you need to have an arch
or any kind of stainless steel
structure fabricated for your
boat and you are heading to
Mexico from the US or
Canada, spend some time in
Ensenada and look up
Allejandro Ulloa (email:
alejandrossw [at] hotmail [dot] com,
Mexican phone: (646) 171-5207). He can
be contacted through the excellent Baja
Naval boatyard as well. There are other
stainless steel fabricators in Mexico but we
haven't seen anyone nearly as skilled or
as professional in their approach.
Alejandro built the extension in his workshop and then brought it
to the boat to size its supporting legs. This was a thrilling process
for us, as we began to see it taking shape on the boat. The entire
arch extension was wrapped in plastic for this phase to protect
the finish.
Mark helped wherever he could and I took endless photos.
Alejandro returned on another day with the finished arch extension.
Now it had tabs for the solar panels, and the supporting legs had
been cut and welded at the right length.
We wanted the arch extension to double as a davit system.
Alejandro designed clever telescoping tubes that snap into place in
an extended or contracted position, and he fabricated two beautiful
cleats. We have found that we use the davits in the contracted
position most often because they hold the porta-bote tight to the
swim platform where it fits perfectly into the swim step cutout in the
transom.
We anticipated
mounting the solar
panels ourselves,
as the quote
Alejandro provided
was for building
and installing an
arch extension,
not for installing
panels. We
weren't sure how
we'd get them mounted, but we knew
we'd figure it out.
Meticulously adhering to the
"measure twice cut once"
philosophy, Alejandro
dismantled the whole thing
for some adjustments and
then mounted it one last
time for the final installation,
tapping and drilling and
screwing each of the arch's
feet into place in a bed of
3M-4200.
Then, to our amazement,
Alejandro and his assistant
began mounting each of
the panels. Mark quickly
jumped in. These are not
light panels, and it was
quite a stretch to get them
in position. Alejandro was
concerned about possible
corrosion due to the
dissimilar metals of the
panels' aluminum frames
and the stainless steel arch
extension, so he placed a
plastic insulator in each
attachment point.
When it was all
finished, Alejandro
wanted us to be
confident that the arch
could support a dinghy
and engine. He and
Mark swung from the
davits. Both are
lightweights, but they
were still twice the
weight of our
dinghy and
outboard.
WIRING
Alejandro's work was done, but we still had a big project ahead. We ran the wiring
inside the arch so it wouldn't show (it wasn't easy snaking it through!!), and we placed
the combiner box and charge controller in a transom locker.
The installation
looked beautiful
and it worked, but it did not work as efficiently as it
could have. The whole system produced about
20% less power each day than it was capable of
doing. We learned we'd made two vital mistakes.
One advantage of using 24 volt solar panels is that
we had half as much current in the wires as we
would have had if we'd used 12 volt panels. Rather
than 36 amps (at 12 volts) at peak production we
had just 18 amps (at 24 volts). This allowed for a
smaller wire size, which is much easier to work with
as it is a lot more pliable, and it's cheaper to boot
(marine grade electrical wire is exorbitant). Our
salesman at Northern Arizona Wind and Sun had recommended we use 10
gauge wire throughout the system. This turned out to be inadequate
because the distance between the panels and the batteries is so long --
about 50'. For wire gauge sizes, amps and
distances, see this chart.
Our second mistake was placing the charge
controller in an aft transom locker. Our batteries
are next to the centerline of the boat at the lowest
point above the keel in the main salon. The
charge controller needs to be close to the batteries
as possible. The distance from the charge
controller in the transom locker to the batteries
was about 30' -- too far. The combiner box was
fine back there, but the charge controller had to be
moved.
Although most of our circuit runs at 24 volts -- from
the panels to the combiner box to the charge
controller -- allowing for smaller wire, the portion
between the charge controller and the
batteries runs at 12 volts. Therefore, the
cable between the charge
controller and the batteries
needs to be not only as short as
possible but very large as well.
We moved the charge controller
into the cabin in a hanging
locker about 10' from the
batteries and and switched to 8
guage wire to connect it, and we
saw a dramatic improvement.
When the distance between the
charge controller and the
batteries was 30' and we were
using just 10 gauge wire, the
resulting resistance in the wire created a large
voltage drop between the charge controller and the
batteries, artificially raising the voltage at which it
thought the batteries were operating. The charge
controller would see the batteries at 14.4 volts whereas when we measured the batteries with a volt meter
they were actually at 13.2 volts. This threw everything in the system way off, and ultimately resulted in a
daily loss of some 10-30 amp-hours that never made it from the panels to the batteries. Once we moved the
charge controller to within 10' of the batteries and installed bigger wire, the resistance dropped. The
controller saw the batteries within 0.2 volts of their actual voltage, and our daily power production increased.
Note: In three years of cruising Mexico, our boat was plugged into shore power for a total of 6 weeks
while it was in in-water storage in San Carlos. It was never plugged in while we lived aboard (even during
the 3 months we stayed at Paradise Village Marina in Puerto Vallarta).
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In addition to living off the grid on solar power on our sailboat, we have also lived on solar power in our RV since 2007. As of February, 2016, we have now installed solar power on two trailers and a motorhome as well as our sailboat, as described here. We have a huge library of solar power and battery charging articles on this website that draw on all of our experience:
SOLAR POWER OVERVIEW and TUTORIAL
- RV (and Marine) Solar Power Made Simple - An overview of how solar power works on an RV or boat
- Which Solar Panels To Buy? - What's Best: Flexible or Rigid Panels? 12 or 24 volt? Mono- or Polycrystalline? And WHY?
- Is RV Solar Power Affordable? - 3 solar power solutions for RVs and boats, including parts lists and actual costs
- Installing Solar Power on a Sailboat - How to overcome the unique challenges of solar power on a sailboat
- RV Solar UPGRADE that TRIPLED our Power - An EASY upgrade to a factory-installed baseline RV solar power system that TRIPLED the power output
- Solar Power Tutorial 1 - Basics - What makes up a solar power system and how does it work?
- Solar Power Tutorial 2 - Weekend/Vacation Systems - Everything needed for small "Weekending" and "Vacation" systems
- Solar Power Tutorial 3 - Full-time Systems - Describes the design of a "Full-time" system
- Solar Power Tutorial 4 - Solar Panel Selection & Wiring - Design considerations for choosing solar panels PLUS wiring tips
BATTERIES and BATTERY CHARGING SYSTEMS
- RV and Marine Battery Charging Basics - How do batteries get charged and what is the best charging method?
- Converters, Inverter/Chargers and Engine Alternators - No two battery charging systems do the job the same way.
- Solar Charge Controllers - How to optimize battery charging from the sun
- Solar Power and Shore Power Combined! - What happens when you're on solar and you plug into shore power?
- Wet Cell vs. AGM Batteries in an RV or Boat - Why we upgraded our RV house battery bank from flooded to AGM!
LIVING ON 12 VOLTS
- Inverter Selection & Installation - Choosing and installing the best inverter to support all our lifestyle's 120 volt AC needs
- RV Electrical System Upgrade - Which converter, inverter and batteries we upgraded to after 8 years off the grid, and WHY!
- How Much Inverter is Enough? - What happened when we accidentally killed our big inverter
- Clean Technica: Solar Power Installation on Sailboat Groovy - An analysis of our boat's solar power setup
- Kyocera Solar Showcases our Sailboat's Solar Power Setup - Sailing Groovy on Kyocera Solar Power!
The solar power setup aboard Groovy has inspired stories and articles all over the internet. Here are a few of the websites and online magazines that have featured stories about Groovy and our marine solar power installation:
- Kyocera Solar Power – Sailing “Groovy” on Kyocera Solar Power
- Clean Technica – Solar Power Installation on Sailboat “Groovy”
- Earth Techling – Solar Sailboat Shows How “Groovy” Off-Grid Life Can Be
- One Sun For All – Solar Power Installation on Sailboat “Groovy”
Where do you buy solar panels, charge controllers, inverters and such? Surprisingly, Amazon offers solar power kits and more. Click the following links for a wider selection of:
- Solar power kits (all sizes)
- Go Power Full-timer Kit (Complete kit!)
- 10 Amp Charge Controllers (for small systems)
- MPPT charge controllers (for big "full-timer" systems)
- Modified Sine Wave Inverters (for "small" systems)
- Pure sine wave inverters (for big "full-timer" systems)
If you click through to Amazon from anywhere on this website, anything you put in your shopping cart or wish list immediately after that results in a small commission to us at no cost to you, no matter what you search for and no matter when you finalize the purchase. This is a wonderful way that you can "help us help you" with detailed and carefully researched articles. Thank you!
New to this site? We have more info on Solar Power and tons of other great stuff for cruisers. Please check out our Home page and our Intro Page for Cruisers to learn more about us and discover what’s where on our site.
Our most recent posts:
- Buckskin Mountain State Park – Fun on the Colorado River! 01/31/26
- How to Install Starlink Gen 3 in an RV? Use the Speedmount! 08/07/25
- Escape to Paradise – Rocky Mountain Magic! 08/01/25
- Is Forest River a Good RV? Well Built? Here’s Our Experience 06/20/25
- Sunset Crater Nat’l Monument – Lava & Camels at Bonito CG! 06/06/25
More of our Latest Posts are in the top MENU above.
Loreto Area: La Ramada Cove, Isla Coronado & Puerto Escondido – Gifts From and To the Sea
Bahía Concepción: the islands, mountains and peninsulas blend together.
Leaving Bahía Concepción the orange islands are inaccurately
charted. The purple radar image shows the correct locations.
The red triangles identify accurate GPS locations of the islands.
Our boat is the size of a city block.
Dangerous pinnacle rocks.
Pinnacles dot the Sea of Cortez landscape.
La Ramada Cove.
Strolling the beach at La Ramada.
Perfectly clear water.
Caleta San Juanico.
San Juanico
Groovy catches the wind and
heads south.
Dolphin swims underwater next to Groovy.
Brightly colored cliffs near Loreto.
Hidden beach at Isla Coronado.
Vivid colors at our private beach.
It's just us and the
herons.
Isla Coronado.
Private islando oasis at Isla Coronado.
Waterfront civilization just outside of Loreto.
Walking towards Loreto's town square.
Inside the Hotel Posada
Hotel Posada de las Flores.
Loreto's "Misión de Nuestra Señora."
Inside the cathedral.
Capturing the antique cathedral on
an iPad.
Puerto Escondido's marina docks.
Groovy waits at the fuel dock.
A boat is lost on a pinnacle rock.
Mark catches a Skip Jack Tuna.
La Ramada, Isla Coronado, Puerto Escondido, & Loreto
Late October, 2011 - It was hard to leave Bahía Concepción, but the time finally came and we headed out of the bay to
continue our trek south. Looking back over our shoulders we were reminded once again what a miracle GPS and electronic
marine navigation systems are for sailors today. In his Log of the Sea of Cortez, John Steinbeck talks about how hard it was to
navigate these waters in 1940 when the only tools the captain had were some sketchy charts and a coastal pilot book. The
islands are often indistinguishable from the mainland mountains and peninsulas, and the rugged coast often becomes a
bewildering mirage.
A glance at our chartplotter shows just how confusing this
landscape can be even today, but for different reasons.
Unlike navigating in the US where electronic charts are
accurate down to individual slips within marinas, the
survey data used in Mexico's modern electronic charts
was collected not long after Steinbeck's voyage. Although
it gives a general idea of the layout and depths, it is often
inaccurate by a half mile, mile, or more. Islands that don't
exist feature prominently on the charts, and islands that
are a true threat in the water are nowhere to be found on
the charts. Fortunately the boat's radar tells the story as it
really is, and the electronic chartplotter overlays the radar
image onto the chart. You get used to sailing through
charted obstacles that aren't actually there.
The thing about the Sea of Cortez is that there are lots of pinnacle rocks
that stick up out of nowhere. Most are fifty feet or more in height, making
them easy to spot with radar and with bare eyes. But you still have to stay
on your toes, as many of them don't appear on the charts and can loom
up unexpectedly.
Fortunately, the guidebook Sea of Cortez by Bansmer/
Breeding lists the GPS coordinates of every danger and
destination in the Sea, so for a boat equipped with a GPS
chartplotter, navigation is actually an easy paint-by-
numbers affair.
The prevailing winds in the Sea of Cortez generally blow either from the north
or the south, and in autumn you get a few days of one direction alternating
with a few days from the other as the summer's predominant south winds give
way to winter's predominant north winds. We caught a ride with a big north
wind that swept us south to our next destination, La Ramada Cove.
This picturesque
spot is protected
only on its southern
side, but we got
lucky and the winds
shifted to the south
for the next few
days.
So we were able to enjoy the isolation, peace and quiet of this idyllic
anchorage while staying just out of reach of the south wind that howled
outside the cove.
The water was beautifully clear and warm,
and sitting on the edge of the cockpit we
could see fish of all kinds swimming under
our boat, flashing in the sun as they zipped
this way and that.
One night we came on deck to see the most unusual bioluminescence. Brilliant little sparkling "eyes"
seemed to be looking up at us from the black depths all around the boat. One at a time they would
wink a few times and then suddenly burst and fade away into the black depths. As each light
exploded and dispersed it seemed to take on the shape of a jellyfish, but our flashlights revealed
nothing but ordinary fish around the boat. After a while the glittering stars disappeared. We still don't
know what they were.
One afternoon we hiked the
short distance from our beach
at La Ramada Cove to the
scenic cove of San Juanico on
the other side of a small hill.
We had spent several
languorous days at Caleta San
Juanico last spring, but now the
anchorage was deserted
because its mouth opens to the
south, which would have made
it very uncomfortable in the
current south wind.
However, the osprey were still
there, perfectly content with nature's unpredictability,
not worried in the least whether the wind was from
the north or south.
We caught the next north blow to carry us a little
further south to Isla Coronado outside of Loreto.
A pod of dolphins spotted us underway and came
leaping over to greet us. The water was so clear we
could see them perfectly as they swam under the
water alongside the boat.
Our route followed the contour of the mountains that make up Baja's
shoreline, and in places they were dramatically striated in shades of
red, black, brown and grey.
This is the magic of the Sea of Cortez. It is a rugged, remote, barren,
harsh land, but if you look beyond the surface it reveals a dramatic
beauty and is teeming with life.
Last spring Isla Coronado had been the scene of some of the
worst conditions we had experienced in seven months of cruising
Mexico when an unexpected post-season Norther blasted the little
north-facing anchorage. Fortunately, when we arrived this time
the bay was tranquil and inviting. We shared our island oasis with
just one other boat, Valkyrie, a small sloop captained by a friendly
singlehander.
There is a
private beach
away from the
anchorage,
and we took the
dinghy over to
explore.
Lush green
vegetation stood
out in sharp relief
against the
burgundy carpeted
rocks in the
distance.
We felt like we were standing on our own
private island, a world away from reality.
Our footprints joined those of
the herons that had been
walking on the sand earlier.
But there were hints of
civilization. After several
days without contact, we
were now able to get internet
access via the cell phone
tower at Loreto just a few
miles away from our island.
Soon we were lured across
the water to visit the town in
person, and we anchored outside
Loreto's tiny harbor.
It was a great feeling to
return to a town we had
come to know and love
last spring. We saw it
now with fresh eyes.
The town was celebrating
its 314th anniversary
when we arrived, and a
portion of the town
square was decked out
for the weekend's festivities.
We returned on the big night,
and the place was hopping
with music, fun, food, and stage events. If that
is how Loreto celebrates turning 314, imagine
what will happen when they hit a round
number.
The ornate Hotel Posada de las Flores and the Mission
of Our Lady Church dominate the town square.
In a wonderful juxtaposition of the modern and the
antique, I watched a man lining up a photo of the
historic cathedral on his iPad. After he got his shot, a
group of us all stood around and admired his wonderfully backlit 8x10
photo. It was beautifully accented by the iPad's white frame and
made me realize what a long way we've come since the days of
Polaroid.
A few days of big north winds and accompanying steep waves sent
us into hiding nearby at Puerto Ballandra, one of the few truly
protected anchorages in the Sea. Last spring it had been nicknamed
"Bee Landra" because of the abundance of fresh water seeking bees
that harassed all the boats. We decided a few bees in a peaceful
anchorage would be better than rolling around in big seas and winds somewhere else. As
it turned out, the bees were few and manageable, due, in part, to the really good fly
swatters we brought down with us this season! With the Sea of Cortez bees we have
found that the best defense is an aggressive offense. None of that pansy "leave the bee
alone and it won't bother you" stuff. We go all out in our attacks, swatting the air, the boat
and each other to kill the scout bees. They are slow moving and must be a bit delicate, as
they are easy (and very satisfying) to kill with a swatter. (I tried asking them nicely to
leave, but they refused).
While in Puerto Ballandra one
afternoon we were idly watching
a boat sailing towards the entrance when we noticed that by dusk it
still hadn't made it into the anchorage. Mark hopped in a friend's
dinghy and they motored out to see if the boat needed help. It turned
out that along with a broken engine and a sail that was stuck partially
raised, the fellow sailing the boat could not find the entrance to the bay
and had been drifting back and forth looking for it all afternoon. He
was confused by the mirage of rocky peaks, and didn't have any
electronic navigation gear on board. Darkness fell, and Mark and his
buddy guided the boat into the anchorage, nudging it forward with the
dink, and helped him find a place to drop the hook.
When the north wind diminished to a manageable scale we
continued moving south, making a quick fuel stop at Puerto
Escondido, the only place with fuel for a hundred miles or so
in either direction.
As we sailed towards Puerto Escondido there was a lot of
commotion on the radio about a boat that had gone up on the
rocks nearby. There were no injuries, but the singlehanding
captain was rapidly unloading all his belongings onto the
rocks and examining a six inch wide hole in the bottom of the
boat to see if there was any way to salvage it. We listened as
a group assembled to lend assistance and bring out sheets of
plywood, bilge pumps and moral support.
The next morning as we left Puerto Escondido we could
see something glinting in the sun on the horizon ahead of
us. Soon it morphed into a sailboat on its side in front of
a towering pinnacle rock, and we realized this was the
boat we had heard about the day before. This pinnacle
rock was one of several in the area called "Los
Candeleros" ("The Candlesticks"). We later sadly
discovered the boat was Valkyrie, the one we had
anchored with at Isla Coronado a few days earlier.
Tragically, the captain had driven straight into the
pinnacle rock and nailed it head on. Ouch. Thank
goodness the only loss was material.
Taking a deep breath and forging ahead, we made our way south
towards Agua Verde. With no wind and nothing to do on board as
we motored along (just one pinnacle rock for 40 miles), Mark threw
out a fishing line. Last year all the cruisers complained of bad fishing
up and down the entire west coast of Mexico. So we were stunned
when within half an hour Mark had landed a fish. Wow! Yikes!! What to do? We were totally unprepared for a fish actually
biting the lure. I ran around excitedly, trying to be helpful, "Are you going to stun it by pouring alcohol in its mouth like our
friends suggested? What kind - rubbing alcohol? Where do we keep that stuff? Are you going to slit the gills to kills it? Do you
need a knife? A cutting board? Gosh, you gotta do something with that flopping fish, and quick!" I must have run up and down
the companionway stairs six times. At least I didn't cry this time.
Mark was much more level headed. He calmly threw some ice in a bucket and put the bucket and
the fish in the dinghy off the back while we continued on to Agua Verde.
One of the weird things about
fishing is figuring out what you
caught. Fish don't come with
labels and a lot of species don't
taste good and need to be
thrown back. Mark looked up his
catch in a book, and it was a Skip
Jack Tuna, rated as "good
eating." Sure enough, once we
were anchored he filleted it like a
pro and barbecued it. We
enjoyed it for three absolutely
yummy meals over the next few
days as we made our way south
towards the beauitful island anchorages near La Paz.
Read more about our adventures in the anchorages near Loreto during our previous visit in May, 2011, here and here.
Find La Ramada Cove, San Juanico, Isla Coronado, Loreto, Puerto Escondido and Agua Verde on Mexico Maps.
**While in Acapulco we read an article in their yacht club magazine about the salvage and recovery of the yacht Valkyrie!
Bahía Concepción & Punta Chivato – Great Sea of Cortez Anchorages
Punta Chivato's elegant hotel.
Shipwreck?!
Osprey
Shells on Punta Chivato's "Shell Beach."
We're not alone -- Mark
found Wilson!
Stairs leading up to Punta
Chivato's hotel
Charming outdoor bar. Too bad it's closed!
Interestingly landscaped grounds at the hotel.
Playa Coyote in Bahía Concepción is like glass.
Heron on watch.
A perfect day for a lazy kayak ride.
Playa El Burro beachfront ex-pat homes.
Each home is a little different.
Some have a removable front wall to bring the
view all the way in.
Snoozing on the water is the only way to beat
the heat.
Geary Ritchie's home is totally wired to help with
his weather forecasting.
Geary, the Sonrisa Net's Sea of Cortez
weatherman himself.
Playa Coyote.
The lunch room for the staff at NOLS.
NOLS houses a complete commercial kitchen...
…extensive provisioning for the students...
…and a mini-REI right here on the beach.
The entire campus, like every building in this bay, is
run on solar power.
Kayaks ready to go to sea.
The centerboard yawls used by the sailing
portions of the classes.
We catch a NOLS class on the water and see
the yawl in action.
Punta Chivato & Bahía Concepción
Mid-October, 2011 - Once the effects of hurricanes Jova and Irwin
way down south had stopped churning up the waves and wind in our
neighborhood near the middle of the Sea of Cortez, we ventured
across from San Carlos on the mainland to Punta Chivato on the
Baja side. There wasn't enough wind to sail, and we had an easy
70+ mile crossing under power.
Punta Chivato is a small community of vacation villas fronting a long
shell-strewn beach. The point is dominated by a sprawling hotel. But
what really caught our attention as we approached was an apparent
shipwreck of an older sailboat resting on its side along the rocks.
Although this anchorage was very peaceful when we arrived, it could
obviously be quite nasty at times.
The temperatures were still hovering near 100 degrees
everyday, so the whole community was closed up tight.
The only sounds were the raucous cries of gulls and the
shrill whistles of a pair of osprey.
We wandered along the beach,
admiring the endless array of
seashells.
Adding to our sense of remoteness,
Mark suddenly found Tom Hanks'
best friend, the basketball "Wilson" of
Castaway fame, sitting among the
rocks and shells.
We had heard that the hotel at Punta
Chivato was a perfect place to spend
some relaxing afternoon hours sipping
cool drinks while perched high above
the sea with a sweeping view
around the point.
Unfortunately the hotel and it's
charming outdoor bar were
closed until December. So we
wandered around the lovely
grounds and imagined how
much fun it would be if
the pretty, shaded
outdoor bar were filled
with happy vacationers
enjoying sundowners
along with us.
From Punta Chivato it is an easy 25
mile or so daysail south to the broad
bays and anchorages of Bahía
Concepción. A long channel
separates this bay from the rough-
and-tumble Sea of Cortez, and the
water where we anchored at Playa
Coyote was like glass.
We could see schools of yellow and
black striped sergeant major reef
fish below the surface, while an
occasional giant angel fish would
glide by and look up at us in the kayak. The
herons, gulls and pelicans
watched the motion of the fish
with as much interest as we did.
A happy couple floated by us in
a tandem kayak, looking very
kicked back…
Then a large fish began leaping
out of the water, almost dancing
on its tail as it darted across the
surface. A gull flew in to try to
catch the fish in mid-air, but a
heron beat him to the punch and caught the stunned fish mid-leap. The heron quickly
dropped into the water, fish in beak. He wasn't nearly as graceful a swimmer as his web-
footed companions, but he managed to stay afloat. Just as he was angling the fish in his
beak to swallow it in one gulp, a pelican swooped by and snatched the fish right out of his
mouth. In a flash the pelican threw his head back and ate the fish. Yikes. The heron
was stunned, we were stunned, and the whole thing was over in an instant. The gull flew
off, scolding everyone as he rose above the water.
We took the kayak around the corner to next-door Playa El Burro. This intriguing ex-pat
community had perked my interest when we were here last June, because the beach is
densely packed with small thatch-roofed houses built right in the sand. Many are closed
up tight for the hot summer months, but a few were open and we could see the inhabitants
milling about inside.
Each house is unique. Many have a porch
out front or a removable front wall that opens
the interior of the house to the view of the
bay. They are cute, although very rustic, as
there is no electricity, town water or sewer
service. Everything runs on solar power and
water is brought in to each house by truck.
All of the homes are owned by ex-
pats, and it struck me as very odd
that such wonderful vacation living
would be the exclusive property of
foreigners rather than Mexicans.
The heat at this time of year is
pretty much unbearable, and
lots of people spend their
days submerged in the 80+
degree water. One fellow was
on his floating bed for several
hours!
At the end of the beach is the
distinctive home of Geary
Ritchie, an avid amateur
meteorologist who provides
sailors with Sea of Cortez
weather forecasts every
morning via SSB and VHF
radio. His home is covered
with antennas.
Geary was at home when
we stopped by, and he
graciously invited us to sit
on his front porch with him
for a while. What a spot!
He explained a little about
how all these tiny homes came to be sitting on the water's edge here. His
was the first home on the beach 15 years ago, and at the time the Mexican
government charged him $30/month for his bit of sand. He built a little
beach palapa home, and he has lived here ever since. Nowadays the rent
has gone up nearly eight-fold, but is still a phenomenal bargain for a
bungalow in paradise. And the beach has filled in with similar homes.
Folks like Geary provide an invaluable service to sailors worldwide, and
they achieve legendary status among cruisers for their dedicated volunteer
efforts. Geary has been told his radio voice is similar to his fellow
forecaster in South Africa. I was intrigued that he got his start by providing weather reports for a friend in the States who had
left his boat in the bay one summer.
Back at Playa Coyote around the corner we visited another
intriguing shoreside property. The National Outdoor Leadership
School ("NOLS"). They have a "ranch" on this beach, one of many
worldwide campuses that provide bases for student wilderness
excursions into our planet's wonderful outdoor classrooms.
We had met the assistant director David and his young family out on the
water. They were camping on the deck of one of the boats in the bay to
escape the excruciating overnight heat in their home on shore, and they
rowed past us on the mirrored morning water on their way "to work."
They invited us to visit the school, and what an eye-opener that was.
We arrived on the beach to find several staff members having
lunch under the huge mesquite tree that shades their strip of
sand. Becca, the director of trek provisioning, gave us a
delightful tour and explained the essence and nature of the
school.
Something of a cross between Outward Bound, the Boy Scouts and an
elite college, the school offers classes ranging from a few weeks to a full
year, many of which accrue college credit at universities around the world.
Classes are conducted in the wild and include kayaking, hiking, rock
climbing, horseback riding and sailing between remote destinations.
Students learn skills ranging from biology to environmental studies to
backcountry survival to group leadership. Most classes are about 15
students with 3 or 4 instructors, and all camping is open air: no tents and just a few shade tarps.
Becca's job is to make sure everyone is well fed on the
expeditions. The kitchen and store-room she oversees are
enormous. The recipes use gallons instead of cups.
This particular campus in Baja California was established around
1990, and its ultra-smooth operation is thanks to the two Mexican
families who have become an integral part of the school. Initially
they provided the land and buildings for the "ranch," but now the
operation of the school and campus is a family enterprise.
This was the first place I had ever been in Mexico where every
Gringo was fluent in Spanish, and Spanish was the default
language for everyone. As Becca said, "The ladies here do all the
shopping and food preparation, and if I can't converse in Spanish I
can't do my job."
The tuition for classes here is similar to a private college, and the education is on the same level. Students are told what to
bring, but just in case they can't find a particular item, the school has a small store that looks like a mini-REI or Cabella's
camping store. What a surprise to see all this high-end Patagonia clothing for sale in the middle of a community made up of ex-
pat beach bungalows.
Just like everyone else on the beach, the school runs without city
water, city sewer or city electricity. The grid of Outback solar charge
controllers was very impressive. We have an Outback charge
controller in our fifth wheel, but just one, not six!
Along with a library filled with books on outdoor adventuring, the
school has a repair yard where the sailboats and kayaks can be
patched up between expeditions. The sailing component of the
classes uses small open centerboard yawls. Of course the students
sleep outdoors on the beach during the sailing portion of the class
rather than on the boats.
We picked up a beautiful 100-page glossy brochure for the school
while we were there and lusted over the stunning photographs of the
courses offered everywhere in the world from the Amazon to
Australia to Scandinavia to the Pacific Northwest. Each site has a
"ranch" campus like the one we had seen. What a fantastic
educational experience it must be, perfect for a "gap" year between
high school and college or before grad school.
Later, when we were daysailing at the mouth of Bahía Concepción, we
saw one of the classes on the water. Four yawls were tacking back and
forth near the entrance of Bahía Concepción, and we tacked back and
forth along with them. The next day when we left Concepción for La
Ramada Cove and the Loreto area, we saw the four yawls pulled up on
a remote beach. Two shade tarps and the four boats were all we could
see of their wilderness experience. Besides ourselves a sailing few
miles out on the water, there wasn't a sign of humanity anywhere to be
seen on the coast for another 25 miles.
Read more about Bahía Concepción during our previous
visit in June, 2011 here.
Find Punta Chivato, Bahía Concepción, Playa Coyote and
Playa El Burro on Mexico Maps.
San Carlos – A Gringo Party Town!
Algodones Bay, San Carlos.
Palms line the beach at Bahía Algodones.
Beachside villas on Algodones Bay.
Groovy anchored between the palms.
San Carlos harbor anchorage.
San Carlos Harbor
Marina San Carlos.
Marina San Carlos.
Marina San Carlos.
Raccoons raided the pantry on a
neighbor's boat.
Resort near the Soggy Peso Bar.
We are back in vacation land...
...back on the beach...
The "Palacio Municipal" in downtown Guaymas.
The cathedral in Guaymas.
The lighthouse outside the Fonatur/
Singlar Marina.
Marina San Carlos.
San Carlos, Sonora, Mexico
Early October, 2011 - After saying goodbye to the bugling elk and
Route 66 memorabilia in Williams, Arizona, we hustled down
from the mountains to Phoenix where we put the trailer into
storage, gathered a few things together, and took the overnight
bus to San Carlos, Mexico. Groovy was waiting for us in her slip,
and she eagerly welcomed us back.
San Carlos has special meaning
for us, as it was not only the end-
point of our cruise last year, but
is the place where our cruising
ideas were initially hatched
during Thanksgiving of 2005.
A friend of ours has a
lovely home at Marina
Real in San Carlos, and
he had taken us out in
his open fishing boat
that fateful Thanksgiving
weekend. Feeling the
wind in my hair and
watching the sun
sparkle on the brilliant
blue sea, I was
enchanted and suddenly
blurted out, "Hey Mark,
we could do this -- we
could go cruising!"
As a lifelong lover of the woods and
the desert, his feet planted firmly
between pines and cactus, he looked
at me in wonder. "Cruising?!"
"Sure!" I said, "We could live on a sailboat and sail the seven seas and
fish for our dinner and swim in tropical anchorages…" It was all so
vivid in my mind. He wasn't sure what to think, but he was very excited
to catch a yellowfin tuna during that little Thanksgiving excursion.
As we motored along the rugged shore with the fish on ice in a cooler,
I spent the next several hours painting a colorful picture for him of us in
our swimsuits living on the sea and sailing from one exotic port to the
next. I realized I had made an impression on him when we returned to
the dock and he suddenly said, "Well, if I'm going to be fishing for my
dinner, I'd better see how this thing is filleted." He closely watched
every flash of our captain Carlos' fillet knife, studying the way he
expertly carved up the
fish. "Wow," I thought,
"Maybe we really could go cruising…"
A long long time had passed between
that little fishing trip and our cruise of
the Mexican coast on Groovy last
winter, but when we pulled into San
Carlos this past June we felt like we
had come full circle. We sailed by the
island where Mark had caught his
yellowfin tuna on our friend's fishing
boat, and we anchored just outside the
entrance to Marina Real where we had
seen a Beneteau anchored way back
in 2005.
This past summer had given us the chance to revisit our home in Phoenix and run
away in our trailer to the Utah red rocks for a few weeks. Now we were back in San
Carlos with a new cruising season ahead. For us San Carlos seemed to be a point
of intersection, the juncture of past dreams and present transitions.
A lot of the boats we had traveled with
last season were on the docks in San
Carlos, and the air was abuzz with their
various plans: Central America, Panama
Canal, South Pacific, Caribbean.
We didn't have any concrete plans beyond
sailing the Sea of Cortez for October and
November. We took the kayak out into the
harbor and enjoyed the early morning light,
slowly getting used to living a water-based life
again.
One morning a couple told us they had had
returned to their boat after a night ashore to
find that otters had wreaked havoc aboard.
They had seen webbed footprints, but it
wasn't clear if otters were really the culprits.
After a little sleuthing, it turned out that a family of raccoons lived in
the bushes next to the marina docks, and they had taken advantage
of the boat's open hatches to get aboard and raid the pantry. Food of
all kinds was strewn throughout their cabin.
Mark was returning from the shower one night and saw the raccoons
up close. It was a little family of five, and they were very cute,
although one parent hissed in annoyance at having its photo taken.
San Carlos is a gringo
vacation town, and one
afternoon we joined some
friends to check out the
Soggy Peso Bar. This
breezy little beachside bar
sits on the edge of the white
sands of Algodones Bay,
and it has a fantastic view
looking back towards the
Marina Real enclave of
waterfront villas.
The beers were ice cold and
the beach scene was hot,
and in a flash we realized we
had left the US along with our
life in our trailer, Route 66
and Utah's red rocks far
behind. We were in our beachwear once again,
back in the land of sand and sun, back on the
Mexican coast.
The village of San Carlos is a small vacation
community that was built on a single rancher's
ranch land a few decades ago.
Ten miles down the road is the
much older city of Guaymas,
complete with a historic city center.
We took the bus there and strolled
around one afternoon. A
"Municipal Palace" building
dominates a huge, open plaza, and
the cathedral lends a touch of
charm to the otherwise gritty town.
A lighthouse marks the entrance to the
municipal marina, and there is a nice
"malecón" or waterfront boardwalk for
strolling.
We had dashed down to
San Carlos in hopes of
resuming cruising while the
water was still warm at the
very beginning of October.
When we arrived it was reportedly 91
degrees. Fantastic!! We couldn't wait to
get going. But two hurricanes showed
up on the radar down south--Jova and
Irwin--and although we were far from
their path, the weather promised high
winds and choppy seas in our
neighborhood for a while.
So we waited in the marina and
watched the water temperature slip
down to 82 degrees over the course
of a week. Finally our window of
opportunity came, and we left the
marina for Bahía Algodones around
the corner where we got the boat
prepped for this season's first
crossing of the Sea of Cortez. Punta
would be our first stops on the Baja side.
Red Canyon Utah is an Overlooked Treasure
Red Canyon Tunnel
Bike path through Red Canyon
The bike path is almost 9 miles long.
Afternoon rainbow.
Early morning visitor.
View from the Red Canyon visitors center.
Hoodoos.
A peephole on Pink Ledges Trail.
Burnt orange and forest green
backed by blue sky are the
colors of Red Canyon
Pink Ledges Trail.
Storms roll in every afternoon.
Utah's red rock answer to
Easter Island.
Bryce Canyon
Rim Run.
Ken and Marcia Powers,
exceptional long distance hikers.
The road through Red Canyon.
Bird's Eye View Trail.
Tunnel Trail.
Mormon hand-cart in Panguitch.
Mark helps commemorate the Quilt Walk.
Downtown Panguitch.
Historic brick pioneer
homestead.
Perhaps the site of the
infamous jail.
Home of Ebenezer Bryce, of "Bryce's Canyon."
Storms approach Arches Trail.
Our one and only arch sighting.
Red Canyon, Utah
Late August, 2011 - We were on a roll uncovering the many gems that make up
America's finest crown jewels in Southern Utah. Leaving Cedar Breaks, we pointed
the truck down the hill towards Red Canyon. Most people on this road are headed to
the more famous Bryce Canyon National Park which lies just a little further on, and few
are aware that their path will cut right through the fabulous rock formations of Red
Canyon on their way there. It's amusing to watch the steady stream of international
tourists flying through this five mile stretch of road, because as soon as they get into
Red Canyon the car windows fly open and heads pop out as the driver swerves into
the nearest pullout. It is that beautiful.
We did that too, years ago. And just like
everyone else, each time we have been back to
Bryce we've breezed through Red Canyon
without sticking around long enough to see it up
close. All we had ever seen was the fantastic
paved bike path that weaves through the canyon
walls for almost 9 miles of spectacular riding.
Years ago we had ridden this
path when the bright blue
lupines were in bloom, but
this year we came later in the
season and the color
trimming the red rock views
was bright yellow.
There is a delightful little
campground in Red
Canyon where we had
camped in a tent long
ago. It was there, in the
rain (which comes every
afternoon in July and
August), that we decided to get a trailer. While we were shivering and running around
looking for indoor activities during the rain, we saw people kicking back in their RVs as
snug as little bugs in rugs. Within two weeks of returning to Phoenix we had purchased
our first pop-up tent trailer and pickup truck.
This time we found a spot to
camp nearby and watched
the afternoon monsoon
clouds build and swirl The
sky would go from bright blue
in the morning to almost
black in the afternoon, and then
huge raindrops would fall.
Sometimes we were blessed with
a rainbow.
One morning we woke to the
sound of cows mooing, and a small herd walked into a
corral nearby and hung out for a while, as if they were
waiting for the rancher and his truck to show up and take
them to market.
Red Canyon boasts many hiking trails, but some of
the best are short ones right outside the visitor
center.
Pink Ledges Trail took us on a winding, narrow path
partway up the canyon walls. It led us back into a
vivid red backdrop of craggy rocks decorated with
rich green trees and then wound back out again
towards some hoodoos.
As usual, a storm was gathering in the
distance, and the sky got darker and
darker. The hoodoos -- humanlike,
almost sculpted rock formations --
resembled the giant heads of Easter
Island. But these were not crafted by
human hands and they glowed a rich
burnt orange.
We had found it extremely challenging to keep up any
kind of fitness regimen on the boat last winter, and as
soon as we got back to Phoenix, Mark had started
running everyday. I was a little slower to get going,
but by the time we got to Red Canyon I had put my
running shoes on a few times.
Mark found out there was a 5 mile race at Bryce
Canyon, and before I had a chance to say, "How far?,"
there I was at the start line. Luckily, the beginning of
the course wound along the edge of Bryce Canyon,
keeping my mind happily occupied with the views. But when the route turned
away from the rim into the woods and continued uphill for over a mile all I could
think was, "Why did we start this exercise program at an altitude of 8,400 feet?"
Thrilled to have survived the race, we were
inspired to keep training. One day I ran past
a couple walking down the road with walking
sticks and serious looking backpacks. There
was nothing up the road for at least 30 miles,
so I had to stop running and find out where they had come from. It
turns out they had walked 60 miles in the past three days to launch a
two month walking adventure. They planned to hike through Bryce
Canyon into Utah's canyon country towards Page, Arizona where they
would arrive around Halloween. Taking a breather at our trailer, they
told us their names were Ken and Marcia Powers and we discovered
they are celebrated hikers who have hiked not only the entire
Appalachian Trail and Pacific
Crest Trail but were the first
people to hike the entire cross-
country American Discovery Trail in one continuous hike
(it took 8 months). They have done all this since they
retired 11 years ago. "We didn't want to just sit at home,"
Marcia said. They have logged thousands of miles of
other long distance hikes, and they chronicle their
adventures at http://www.GottaWalk.com.
We continued ticking off the short hikes around Red
Canyon, very self-conscious now that they were all just a
measly mile or so. But they were spectacular. The Bird's
Eye View hike goes up around the backside of the canyon
and the Tunnel Trail Hike follows a series of switchbacks
up a steep hill until it deposits you at a fantastic viewpoint
overlooking one of the tunnels spanning the main road.
Taking a break from the red rocks, we
ventured into the nearby town of
Panguitch. A small city park
celebrates the town's mormon pioneer
history, and a hand-cart in the park
reminded us that whole groups of
people of all ages, some pulling hand-
carts, walked across this country
years ago to settle Utah.
Those pioneers were tough folk. In 1864 the new mormon settlers in Panguitch
were starving, and seven men set out to cross the snow-covered mountains to
get supplies from Parowan some 40 miles away over a steep pass. Unable to
make progress in the deep snow, they threw out a quilt and gathered on it to
pray. Noticing the quilt supported their weight in the soft snow, they began
laying quilts out ahead and walking across them. Amazingly, they walked all the
way to Parowan and back this way, lugging heavy loads of flour with them on
the return trip. Mark decided to help out the commemorative Quit Walk statue
with his quilt.
The downtown
area of Panguitch
is listed on the National
Register of Historic Places, and
I had a walking tour map that
pointed out certain historic
homes and buildings. The jail
intrigued me, but the location
on the map didn't correlate with
any buildings.
I began asking around, and
ended up on a wild goose chase as one shopkeeper sent me
to the next and I finally ended up with a group of little old white
haired ladies "who know all the history of this town." My jail
query started quite a discussion among them, but not one was
sure where this jail was or might have been. "It's down by your
house," one woman said. "A jail by my house? No, it was at
the other end of town…" We were all laughing by the time I
left, but apparently this historic jail in this historic town had
slipped from historic memory. Making one last stop at
Cowboy's Steakhouse Cafe on my way
out of town, the bartender said
thoughtfully, "Well, this building used to
be a jail. I think what you're looking for
is right here."
An easier landmark to find was in the
town of Tropic in the opposite direction
past Bryce Canyon. Back in the
mid-1870's, Ebenezer Bryce built a road through the woods leading to
a pink cliff canyon to make timber more accessible for the settlers of
the area. The amphitheater of red rock at the end of his road became
known as "Bryce's Canyon," even though he moved to Arizona just a
few years later. His wee home is on display in Tropic. Poking our
heads inside the tiny door, I couldn't imagine what winters were like for
a real family of full-sized people living in such a dollhouse.
Ready for one last blast of red rocks, we checked out Arches Trail at
the edge of Red Canyon. This trail boasts 15 arches, although a
couple completing the hike as we arrived said they had found only
five. We charged up the path, quickly deciding that this was by far the
best hike of them all. The path twists and turns as it climbs, and each
view is more enchanting than the last. We spotted an arch and
rushed up to it just as a huge thunder-boomer rumbled and lightning
flashed in the distance.
In no time at all the sky went black. We saw a cave in the distance
and hatched a plan to go hide in the cave until the rain ended.
What a terrific adventure that would be! But we couldn't find a
path to the cave, so we ran back to the truck instead.
Unfortunately, the rain wasn't the kind that would blow over any
time soon, and we were leaving Red Canyon next day, so when
we drove away from Arches Trail we realized we were leaving
most of it for a future visit to Red Canyon. But at least we now
know it is a hike that is well worth doing!
We hustled south along I-15 making stops for the Iron County Fair in Parowan, Utah and the Interbike bicycle trade show in Las
Vegas, Nevada, and we finally landed in Williams, Arizona on famous Route 66.
Dixie National Forest Utah – Caves and Hikes
Echo Cliffs, Route 89, Arizona.
Lake Powell, Arizona
Glen Canyon Dam, Arizona.
Vermilion Cliffs
Cool cave nearby.
Scenic Utah.
Mammoth Cave entrance.
Inside required a flashlight.
Looking out of Mammoth Cave.
Bowers Cave entrance.
Mark climbs in.
Lava flow.
Dirty snow in the Ice Cave.
Navajo Lake.
Wizened old guy,
2,000 years old.
Bristlecone Pine Tree.
Bristlecone branches
resemble bottle brushes.
Bristlecone pine cone.
Views on Cascade Falls hike.
The trail follows the canyon's edge.
Stairs make it accessible
for everyone.
Don't move or it might collapse!
Trail snaking along the edge of the cliffs.
Cascade Falls.
Horses and riders greet us on our
return to the trailhead.
Dixie National Forest, Utah: Deep Caves and Spectacular Hikes
Mid-August, 2011 - We left
Monument in Flagstaff, Arizona,
aiming for southern Utah and red
rock country. We got our first
glimpse as we passed Echo Cliffs
where we jumped out of the truck
for a few minutes and ran around
taking photos.
The climate in this desert area is
dictated by altitude, and we
watched the temperature rise
from 75 degrees in Flagstaff at 7000' to 100 degrees in Page, Arizona where we had
dropped to just 3,000' elevation. So our visit to Glen Canyon Dam and sighting of Lake
Powell were limited to viewings from the truck window as we drove by in the blazing heat.
Approaching Kanab, Utah we watched
the Vermilion Cliffs begin to loom on
our right, and once past, we set up
camp and started exploring an
unusual cave near our campsite. This
cave was just a drainage culvert
under a road, but it had cool patterns
in the red and white sandstone. Little
did we know that cave exploration
would become the theme of the next
few days.
We continued up the road to spend some time in the cool pines in Dixie National Forest where the altitude is 8,500'. We had
seen a little marker on the map, "Mammoth Cave," and were curious what was there. Like Sunset Crater in Flagstaff, this is
volcano country, and eons ago lava flowed as the volcanoes erupted. When the lava began to cool, in certain places the molten
lava on the inside drained out from the cooling, hardening rock around it, creating a cave or lava tube. Mammoth Cave is one
of these lava tubes.
From the outside it just looks like a big hole in the ground, but once
you are inside the cave the tube extends about 1/4 mile.
Bats live inside, using the cave for hibernation during winter. Because
lots of folks visit the caves in the wintertime, the bats get woken up
again and again with each intrusion, depriving them of the rest and
energy conservation they rely on to survive the harsh winters. So the National Forest Service has placed a grate over the main
tube entrance with a little dog door-like opening for people to crawl through during the summer months. That way, by closing
and locking the "dog door" in the winter, they can prevent winter visitors from entering the cave and bothering the bats.
After watching a family ahead of us shake their heads and leave as
they decided they didn't need to explore the cave badly enough to
crawl through a dog door-like opening, we crawled into the yawning
darkness. Instantly I was really grateful that I travel with a man who
likes to be prepared. Mark whipped out a much needed flashlight and
then pulled a second one out of his pocket for me. For some reason
"cave exploration" and "flashlight" hadn't connected in my mind ahead
of time. I guess I was expecting lighted tunnels!
As we walked, the tube angled slightly, the bright light of the opening
disappeared, and suddenly everything was pitch dark. I mean, inky
blackness surrounded us and I couldn't see my hands in front of my
face. Mark's flashlight got a little dim and he teased me that it might
go out and then we'd be relying on my flashlight… and what if mine
went out too? I stumbled at that thought, because you could get disoriented so easily in there. I sure didn't want to look away
from the little circle of light I was casting ahead of me as I walked. It was really eerie.
Eventually we reached the end and turned back. Only afterwards, when we saw the
photos we took, did we really get a sense of what the inside of the tube looked like.
Other parts of the cave are
shorter in distance and
shorter in height too!
Leaving the cave I noticed
some really exotic patterns
on the roof. Finally we
crawled back out into
daylight.
We were in a quiet and remote
part of Dixie National Forest,
having driven down several small
dirt roads to make our way to
Mammoth Cave. As we left we started checking out what was down some of the other dirt
roads. There were boondocking spots galore, and lots of people with ATVs and
toyhaulers were set up for a few days of fun.
Suddenly we saw a tiny sign that said,
"Bowers Cave." Mark spotted the cave
opening -- a small hole in the ground. Like
Mammoth Cave, this is a lava tube that
was formed ages ago. Someone had put a
tree trunk down into the hole to make it
easier to crawl down in. A National Forest
Service sign outside the entrance said,
"Bowers cave is an undeveloped 'wild'
cave." The sign went on to explain that
caving is a risky activity for those who
aren't knowledgeable or prepared.
Mark shimmied down into the darkness while I watched from a safe distance above ground, deciding I was neither
knowledgeable nor prepared. He yelled up reports of what he saw. He said it was a good sized room but he couldn't find the
tube leading out. Apparently it travels some 950' but he returned to daylight without finding the path. That was fine by me.
In the era when the volcanoes were active, flowing lava didn't leave
just vacant tubes behind, it also left enormous piles of sharp, jagged
black rock. This stuff is razor-edged, and climbing on it is extremely
difficult. We passed a large lava flow on our way out to see our last
cave: the Ice Cave.
Like the other caves, the Ice Cave appears to be just a dark hole in the
ground on the outside, and you have to do a bit of scrambling to get in.
Here on August 19th we found there was still a large pile of dirty snow
leftover from last winter.
Granted, we had been told
that winter didn't really end
here until mid-July this year,
but still, a snow pile in August
is impressive. Something about the
orientation, elevation and thickness of the rock
above keeps this cave very cold so the snow
doesn't melt. A ranger told us that the man
who owned the land before it was acquired by
the National Forest Service had used the ice
cave to keep food cold over the summer
months, like a huge refrigerator.
After all this cave exploration we had had
enough of underground tunneling and were
ready for some above-ground activities. We
drove past the scenic Navajo Lake overlook on
our way to the trailhead for the Bristlecone
Pine Trail.
This mile-long trail wanders through some
wonderful woods on a soft dirt path, and we
breathed deeply, filling our lungs with the rich
pine scent. The Bristlecone Pine Tree is
considered to be the oldest living thing on the
planet, and we couldn't wait to see what it
looked like.
It turned out that there were quite a few of these
ancient trees on this trail, and the oldest ones
were about 2,000 years old. The bristlecone
pine grows only in Utah and Nevada on high,
barren windswept slopes. You'd think that the oldest
living thing in Nature (some trees in Nevada have
been measured at over 5,000 years old) would prefer
a fairly cushy existence, like a comfy retirement home.
But perhaps achieving that kind of extreme old age
requires a kind of gritty toughness that scoffs at any
but the most rugged lifestyles.
What makes the bristlecone pine tree able to live as
many as 60 human lifetimes is its ability to stop
growing all together when things get ugly. When the
going gets tough -- drought, wildfire, etc. -- this old
tree just stops. Maybe there is some wisdom in
that strategy.
What I liked about these guys is that they have a
fantastically wizened appearance, bent and twisted
into gnarled shapes. Most of the tree is dead
wood, the heart of the tree seemingly laid bare to
the elements, the grain of the barkless wood clearly
visible in striated colors. But a thin thread of life
snakes through the tree along a vein just under the
dead wood, and branches that resemble bottle
brushes hang in clusters from the living parts.
The Bristlecone Trail Hike had been one of two that a
forest ranger had recommended to us, and a day later we
tried his other suggestion, the Cascade Falls Hike. "It has
a nice view and a waterfall at the end." Hmmm… it might
be okay, but it didn't sound all that unusual.
When we took our first footsteps at the trailhead our
hearts leaped. What an incredible view! It turns out this
spectacular 1.6 mile roundtrip trail meanders along the
edge of a stunning red rock canyon. You are positioned
about halfway up the cliffs, wandering along the contours
of the red rocks on a perfectly groomed gravel trail.
Our cameras clicked along at full speed. Every
view in every direction was gorgeous. A little
brother and sister, about 3 or 4 years old, walked
along with me for a while. They couldn't wait to
get to the waterfall, but all along the way they
were saying "Wow, look at this! Look at that!"
I felt the same way. The
whole trail was a feast for
the eyes.
Forest rangers have
installed really solid stairs in
certain places, so people
young and old can enjoy this
rare hike. From the little kid
on dad's shoulders to the
oldest grandma with a
hesitant step, everyone on
the trail wore a grin from ear
to ear.
Utah's canyon country is full of surprises like this. This area would no doubt
be a national park if it were located in any other state. But Utah is so
overloaded with national parks that a little gem like this is just that, a special
gem to be enjoyed by the public without the fees, hype, extensive literature,
crowds, "do's and don'ts" lists and the roaming rangers that are so often a
part of the national park experience.
It was a Saturday afternoon, so Dixie
National Forest was teeming with Las
Vegans escaping the heat for a few
days. But the trail, although busy and
loved, was not overcrowded.
We turned a corner and suddenly the
sound of rushing water filled our ears. It was crashing down
the rocks through the lush greenery far below us. A few
more twists and turns along the canyon walls and suddenly
there it was, Cascade Falls, in front of us.
The little boy I had seen earlier was
standing on the viewing platform
staring at the falls. "Look at that!" he
said to me.
"Wow, that's awesome!" was the only
response I could come up with.
We hiked back out vowing not to take any more
pictures. But the cameras wouldn't quit. Even at
the parking lot at the trailhead the cameras kept
going as two horses and riders showed up at the
edge of the woods.
We had come to this neck of the woods to see
Cedar Breaks National Monument, but we'd
already spent a week in the neighborhood without getting there yet!