SMALL BOAT ADVENTURING — T
his month marks the unofficial end of the cruising season along the Pacific Coast of the Mexican mainland, which means many boats are now returning to their US or Canadian homeports for the summer. Meanwhile, plenty of others will choose to linger during the summer months in the spectacular Sea of Cortez, a vast, sparsely developed wonderland for sailors and adventurers. As Latitude reader Derek Rice discovered, though, you don't have to own a fully equipped 50-ft cruising boat to enjoy the Sea. As you'll read in his excerpted report below, he and a buddy recently had big fun tapping into the region's magic aboard a 44-year-old Catalina 22 daysailer.
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ALL PHOTOS DEREK RICE & JIM PALERMO
or a long time I'd felt the allure of sailing in the Sea of Cortez, but my enthusiasm for trailering a small boat there was not well received by family and friends, as they perceived the idea as being too dangerous, and my sailing skills too inadequate. But last December, when a colleague met an unfortunate fate — an unlucky fall that ended his life — my resolve to achieve my adventurous goals quickened. From then on I could not be deterred. My longtime plan had been to trailer my 1974 Catalina 22, which is equipped with a swing keel, down to Puerto Peñasco and sail along the northern shore from January through March, then sail down the east coast of the Sea, approximately 280 nautical miles, to San Carlos. To crew on this adventure, I'd recruited Jim Palermo, who'd served as my sailing mentor — an adventurous guy, he'd been willing to sail with me on the small reservoir near my home during Arizona's summertime monsoon storms. By November 2017, I had completed the American Sailing Association's Advanced Coastal Cruising course and had done several hundred sails on our local lake — some days in the lightest of air, others in 20-knot winds while sailing solo with both the jib and mainsail
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reefed. It had been a mix of good experiences and those that likely "developed character." The boat had been equipped with a jib on a furler, an asymmetrical spinnaker, and an old mainsail with its halyard, downhaul, and a single reefing point all led aft. Before moving C22 — the boat's only name — to Puerto Peñasco, seals and mechanical latches were added to the forward hatch and the pop-top to help mitigate water intrusion and maintain a dry cabin. We also installed an EPIRB, a VHF radio, a new fire extinguisher, a gimbaled oneburner stove bolted to the stern pulpit,
and two 15-lb anchors on 30 feet of chain, plus 250 feet of rope rode.
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aters in the northern reaches of the Sea of Cortez are shallow, ranging from roughly 30 to 60 feet deep at high tide. We thought of the two anchors as significant insurance should we encounter unfortunate circumstances.
Northwest winds of 15 to 20 knots were at our backs, pushing us along easily. Provided the boat was not holed, we figured we could let out our anchors and a total of 600 feet of rode, enabling us to anchor the boat almost anywhere within the vicinity of our planned coastal sailing routes, in order to ride out a storm or make any required repairs. There is no anchor locker on an old C22, however, so one anchor was assembled, ready to use in an instant, and stored in the cockpit's starboard side storage bin. The second anchor was stored unassembled in the port side bin — the large cavity under the cockpit.
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n mid-January this year we delivered C22 to Puerto Peñasco, a fourhour trailer haul from Phoenix. Left: If you expect to have edgy adventures on the water, you'd better trust your crew. Derek's mentor Jim Palermo was the perfect choice. Below: Golden light precedes a surreal sunrise.
