sea of cortez

This 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. and two 15-lb anchors on 30 feet of chain, plus 250 feet of rope rode.

For 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 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, Waters 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.

In 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.

Although we'll spare you the details here, researching the importation of a boat into Mexico yielded a mixed bag of results, as all the information we received from various sources was incorrect. That said, if you plan to import a boat into Mexico, the most important thing to know is that a mandatory Temporary Import Permit (TIP) can be purchased online from the Mexican government for $52 US, and believe it or not, you'll receive it by FedEx at your home address within 48 hours. Trailering the boat to Puerto Peñasco was uneventful: a beautiful drive from Phoenix through Gila Bend, down State Route 85 through Ajo, and on to the border at Lakeville. Along the way we picked up Mexican car insurance at one of the numerous roadside outlets, but on future trips purchased it online to save time on the road. At the border, the Mexican authorities pulled over our rig and I turned the engine off, expecting to be there for a while. Let me interject here that regardless of what you hear and read, regardless of your biases and preconceived notions, regardless of the political climate in the US, and whichever politician is using Mexico and her people as a scapegoat for whatever issue is being discussed — or to distract you from our real problems — the people of Mexico are awesome. Actually, the Mexicans I've met remind me of the Irish Catholic: well-meaning, here to laugh and enjoy family. At the border I stepped out of the truck with a folder full of documentation in hand for the boat, the trailer, the truck and myself, plus the all-important TIP. I was prepared for anything and everything. But the Mexican customs official only requested C22's Arizona state boat registration. She walked back to the boat, verified that the form matched the boat, and sent us on our way. Like I said — as if she were Irish. In Puerto Peñasco the boat was kept in dry storage on its trailer at a great place called Safe Marina (011-52-638-3831144). Getting there from the border is a straight run on Highway 8 from the town of Sonoyta to the coast. (It cost $100 US per month to store the C22 and $24 to launch the boat and retrieve it upon our return.)

Our first sail in Mexican waters was out of desperation. Almost a month had gone by since Jim and I had staged the boat at Safe Marina, and we'd been unable go out due to scheduling

conflicts and weather warnings for the vicinity of Puerto Peñasco. By mid-February we felt that we simply had to go sailing, even though there was a small craft advisory, with winds projected to be 25 knots. So on Saturday, February 10, we drove four hours to the marina and launched the boat. Taking every necessary precaution, we reefed the sails while still in the slip, set up jacklines, sealed the hatches, put on our lifevests, then motored out into the Sea of Cortez for the first time with smiles on our faces. It turned out to be an excellent day of sailing with consistent wind. After four or five hours, we'd traveled 16 nautical miles northwest to Bahia de Adair, adjacent to La Choya. There, we set anchor in a stiff breeze. The next day we were treated to another excellent day of sailing on the return trip to Puerto Peñasco. After hauling C22 back onto her trailer for storage, we drove back to Phoenix feeling rewarded for having invested our time in Mexico. Although it had only been a short and sweet weekend cruise, this had been some of the best sailing I had experienced. A pproximately 20 nautical miles southeast of Puerto Peñasco, rocks disrupt the surface of the sea, creating an isolated refuge which was to be our second sailing destination. Although barren of vegetation, Isla San Jorge finds purpose in housing nocturnal seals and a variety of birds, and providing safe anchorage to fishing boats. The water is not deep. Filled with organic materiDerek Rice doesn't own a als, it is emerald big comfy cruiser, but that in color. While didn't keep him from having we were there, high times sailing the Sea of seals swam beCortez aboard 'C22'. neath the boat, and birds floated by on a gentle breeze.

Although small, the island resists erosion, refusing to surrender its jaggededged facades.

On Saturday, February 24, we sailed to Isla San Jorge (aka Bird Island), returning the next day. Again the sailing was excellent. On the first day of this weekend cruise, the northwest winds of 15 to 20 knots were at our backs, pushing us along easily. C22 rode the surf well and seemed to sail with purpose, never giving us a moment of doubt. We sailed around the south and east coast of the island, then dropped anchor under sail letting the rode drift out, then hauled in hard to set the hook before securing our sails. That night, we ate dehydrated Neapolitan ice cream, the dessert of astronauts, while anchored adjacent to a local fishing boat, with a symphony of seals for company. We awoke before dawn the next morning, as the seals insisted on our presence, while curious birds hovered above the boat. To the east the sun rose in a brilliant mass, as if it were an incendiary device. By about 8 a.m. we'd raised anchor, hoisted sail, and set a course around the top of the island. The wind was again blowing from the NW — virtually

straight out of Puerto Peñasco — so we At times like this, Derek says his Catalina 22 were forced west and out to sea. So it was in her element: "She was a joy to sail, and goes. After roughly five hours we tacked I wore a grin from ear to ear." north toward the coast, not wanting to board jibe. be so far out that we couldn't reach the After arrival, we had some serious coast before dark. We sailed as close to issues with the anchorage: the wind shore as practical, but since the water howled from the southwest, while the was shallow, we were eventually forced waves arrived from the southeast. Then offshore again. as the sun set the wind increased, as if Our well-laid plans having been de- protesting the day's end. By that point nied, we were still well offshore late the oncoming swells ranged from four in the afternoon when the boat bucked and I suddenly went overboard. I figure there was too much load on the sheet winch combined with the energy of a large wave — • Phoenix • Phoenix it happened so quickly. We had been at it for hours, it was getting dark, and the wind was unabated. Our small but sturdy boat was stretched to her limits. Twice the Puerto Peñasco Puerto Peñasco wire rigging came un-pinned, but by heaving to we were able to replace the cotter pins. By this point the sun was deep in the western sky. For me to change into dry clothing required staying below for several minutes, and in an instant I was seasick. As we motored the final miles to Area of Derek's Cruises safe harbor, we became acutely aware of the limited amount of gasoline we had on board, and the rate it was being consumed.

Our third weekend trip out of Puerto Peñasco, March 17-18, stretched the limits of our small boat's potential. After the long drive from Phoenix, a quick transit of the border, a sprint to the coast and an expedient launch, we sailed northwest (280° true) to the western shore of Bahia de Adhir, a distance of about 31 miles. With the SE wind barely blowing 10 knots, we left the jib furled and hoisted our asymmetrical spinnaker on star-

Mexico's Baja Peninsula & the Sea of Cortez

to six feet high. We set, then re-set the anchor in attempts to make the boat lie at the best angle to handle the wind and waves. But she refused. The wind speed increased, as waves arrived from a perpendicular angle, causing the swing keel to pivot on its pin while relentlessly knocking the side of the well. All night long the hammer swung, like a 700-lb Goliath testing the tensile strength of C22's 40-year-old fiberglass, which is only an eighth of an inch thick. Needless to say, we did not sleep due to the pounding and wave action. When the predawn light arrived, we skipped breakfast, prepared cold coffee, hauled up the anchor, and began the trek back to safe harbor before sunrise.

What began as an ambitious idea — the hope of sailing from Puerto Peñasco to San Carlos — yielded lots of adventure and memories that will last a long time. Little C22 sailed well, even in six-foot seas and 25-knot winds. However, that last night at anchor, with the keel swinging on its pivot pin tested the limits of the boat. When we got back to Puerto Peñasco we saw that there was water in the cabin adjacent to the keel box. Since then, C22 has been hauled back to Phoenix, the keel pin mechanism replaced, and the keel box inspected and repaired. Luckily, I am an engineer, so this type of work is interesting to me. The future of C22 is daysailing on our local lake, where afternoon

August storms offer excitement — an acceptable retirement for an old boat.

Sailing her in the Sea of Cortez was thrilling, with excellent wind and surf. The people at Safe

Marina where great; very helpful, honest hard-working folk. In fact, all the people we encountered in

Mexico were friendly and courteous. No complaints. What will be my next sailing adventure? I recently purchased a 1988 Beneteau First 235 with a fixed wing keel that should be perfect for the shallows of northern

Mexico's coast. She needs a lot of work, but by next winter I hope to have her sailing south of the border, comfortably heeled over in a stiff breeze. So hopefully there'll be a sequel to this story. There is no better pastime than messing around in small boats. — derek rice

Editor's Note — We're always thrilled to hear about Latitude readers from nontraditional sailing venues. Derek normally sails on Lake Pleasant, a small reservoir near his home in Cave Creek, Arizona.