Northerlies for Navidad

Into the Sea, we were greeted by the expanse of white sand beach and turquoise waters that is Playa Bonanza.  In sheer bliss, we paddle boarded to shore, dug our toes into the sand, delighted in new shells, swam; then realizing we had brought neither water (nor beer) to shore; paddled back to the boat, then swam some more.  A calm day, anchored in only 14 feet of water, we could follow our anchor chain’s serpentine trail through the sand.  It was December 23 and we knew the Sea’s notorious northerlies were on their way, digging in our anchor for the holiday week.   A few kayak camps on beach were settled and they found, as we did, that they were “stuck” in this glorious place for the next 5 nights. 

The Sea of Cortez (Gulf of California) is roughly 800 miles long, on average 95 miles wide dotted with about 922 Sonoran desert islands and islets.  These islands are an evolutionary treasure, home to the largest number of endemic plant and animal species in North America.  Some have called these islands “the Mexican Galapagos” and Cousteau referred to the surrounding bountiful sea as “the aquarium of the world.” 

We woke on Christmas Eve to the expected building northerlies howling, but our anchor holding firm, and went to the beach with our friends from SV Kamala to find the “trail” across the island to Bahia san Gabriel.  The recent hurricane’s effects were obvious in the landscape of flooded still-moist arroyos and brilliant greens choking the desert “trail” to the other side.  Eventually, the tease of intermittent sand trails petered out and we decided that a beach adventure was a better idea.  Off we went to the distant end of the sandy beach to touch the cliff, which ended up being a 6 mile beach walk of shell and dune exploring, our calves sore and feet pumiced smooth.  We had our first run in with the wily Sally Lighfoot…stay tuned.  Christmas Eve dinner was tuna steaks.

Christmas morning, woke to stockings full of Mexican treats, as well as dark chocolate for Jen and an IPA (a real beer!) for Chris.  Our palm frond tree was decorated with shells and lovely lights from our dear Petersburg friend Julie, standing tall in a bucket of beach coral. 

We talked to family and friends (thank you Starlink), felt a bit homesick, ate a big pancake feast, made some fresh water and fresh bread, did laundry (Cora’s request for clean clothes for Christmas!), and hung out on a pocket beach for a bit. 

The northerly winds howled on, as we had Matchbox car races on the table with the cars only moving from the ocean swell and waves!  I made a big dinner of chicken, gravy, potatoes, stuffing, cranberries, and even pumpkin pie (no whipping cream could be found, but kids excited to find a can of Redi-Whip!). 

Woke to more howling winds, off to the shore to explore the other direction, finding ourselves in a pocket beach all to ourselves!  The cardon cactus and rocks arranged like a professional garden, we meandered past turtle trails from earlier this year.  Then, we tried to catch a brilliant red and yellow colored Sally Lightfoot to no avail.  Steinbeck’s words rung true, “These little crabs have remarkable eyes and an extremely fast reaction time…If you walk slowly, they move slowly ahead of you in droves.  If you hurry, they hurry.  When you plunge at them, they seem to disappear.”  We tried sneaking around them to no avail.

The next day, the crew of SV Kamala and SV Terikah were determined to hike the trail to the other side, despite our prior failings.  We set off with renewed hope, pushed through brush, covered ourselves with prickles, darted around bee-filled desert daisies, jumped through rocky mountain fringes, and sloshed through mangrove puddles.  The hurricane and its effects had obviously obliterated the first part of the trail.  Then we, almost comically, found a cairn…we had found the “trail.”  About 3.5 miles later, we plopped ourselves on Bahia san Gabriel for lunch and enjoyed its turquoise waters before the trip back. 

I declared myself “over” these howling winds and ready to move along and, after consulting the weather, charts, and the crew; we decided we would take advantage of a bit of next morning’s calm to move along.  To bed we went, I found myself awoken at 3am by the bright full moon overhead, happily rolling gently with the swell… without any howling.  I was ready to go by moonlight, but my crew wanted to wait, so we pulled anchor at 7:30am to leave our lovely Navidad week anchorage.

This Christmas season, as we miss our family and friends back home, my friend Julie reminded me that we move from one bit of Holy Ground to another.  Our families take off our shoes, dig our bare toes into the sand; for this earth we stand on and share together is indeed holy ground.  We wish you all a Merry Christmas.