March 10, 2013. Our
sail today is a hoot. We leave Isla
Isabela about ten a.m. thinking we will take 24 hours to sail to San Blas. By one p.m. the wind is blowing 18 knots
right over the stern. I steer by hand
for several hours with the full main and no jib. This is one of the few situations where my
steering is better than the electronic autopilot. By seven p.m. we drop anchor at our destination
just before the wind dies. The palm
trees lining the beach at the western end of this bay are silhouetted against
the blood red sunset; what a beautiful sight.
This was the first time I can remember that we arrived somewhere ahead
of schedule. The hillsides here are
green, a sharp contrast to Isla Isabela and the area near La Paz.
Oooo, Ahhhh
March 9, 2013. We
have a great day ashore walking the northern trail on Isla Isabela &
visiting with the naturalists. We meet a
dozen young people camped at the best spot for us to land in our tender. They are all biology students from Mexico
City. The leader is a male PHD candidate
who speaks excellent English and is doing his thesis on the blue footed
booby. Their camp is surrounded by nests
where the boobies are incubating their eggs and raising their young. These people are interested in our journeys
and our way of life. We, in turn are
happy to learn something about their lives and about the natural wonders of
Isla Isabela.
Here is what I saw during our two day visit. The island is about two miles long and half a
mile wide with predominantly steep shoreline of volcanic rock. There is enough rainfall to support stunted
trees reaching a height of no more than 30 feet. The island is thirty miles or so from the
mainland and because there are few predators it is a rookery for three varieties
of boobys. Did you ever think a blue
footed booby was anything other than a fairy tale? They are real. These ducks make their nests in shallow
depressions on the ground where the parents alternate keeping the eggs warm and
flying out to sea to catch small fish.
When the chicks hatch, the same pattern continues with the adults
guarding the nest and foraging for dinner in shifts. The mating behavior for the male consists of
a series of whistles, wing postures and lifting a bright blue foot high off the
ground to show off that unique feature. Females
act coy and aloof. In early March, there
are mated pairs incubating eggs and still others raising chicks.
Other birds found here include white tropic birds, the ones
with the impossibly long thin tail feathers, pelicans, the ones that like to
perch and poop on our boat and the “Magnificent Frigatebirds.” In my informal census, the frigates outnumber
any other species on Isla Isabela. The
boobies are concentrated along the shoreline and the frigates nest in trees in
the interior. The frigatebird is a large
black bird with long thin wings and a deeply forked tail. Though often seen far from land, they cannot
take off from the water, so they return daily (?) to rest on land. Well, their captivating feature is a red
throat which the male develops in mating season and inflates like a balloon to
attract attention from females.
Impressive?
On Isla Isabela Gregg has his lifetime first encounter with iguanas. These are brown and blend in well with the dead leaves along the trail. They generally wait until we get close then run with a great deal of noise and scattering of leaves until they dive into their hole. Once in a while, we find a bold one who just sits there in the sun in the middle of the trail and ogles the funny looking biped.
Iguana on Isla Isabela
After describing one more creature from this amazing island,
I will fold up my laptop and go home.
Thank you for your patience, dear reader. We know from the guidebook that this island
is home to something called the Mexican milk snake. I certainly never expect to see one, but Deb
spots one in the trail. It is a tiny little thing but very brightly
colored. It apparently is not poisonous
but imitates the coloration of the highly poisonous coral snake. This one wriggles among the leaves for a
minute or two, finds its hidey hole and disappears.
March 5, 2013. It is
three a.m. on a calm night at sea. It is
the kind of calm that drives cruising sailors crazy. The sails are up to catch any wind that may
come, but the boat rocks in the swell slamming the main sail from side to side
and, in this case, causing an insufferable squeal at a fitting on the boom.
I boil some noodles and bullion and make a pot of soup that
missed the flavor mark worse than usual but it is filling and the few fresh
vegetables make me think it has vitamins.
As I sit on the steps spooning soup from the bowl on the companionway
hatch, I search the darkness for any sign of ships or a light from the island
“Isabela” which is our destination for this three day passage. Then I hear it. The forceful breath and soft splash of a
dolphin surfacing – then another and another.
How many sailors have been fascinated and soothed by the companionship
of these gentle creatures? Well, it has
been a long watch, but my belly is full, I am surrounded by friends and life is
good!
February 10, 2013. At five we leave for the La Paz Mardi Gras parade. It starts an hour late but we have fun
watching the vendors and their customers.
There is a dance team of five scantily clad girls on the stage sponsored
by Tecate beer. I think: “This is out
of place in this conservative Roman Catholic society.” But, when the parade files past, there are
lots more girls and guys in brief outfits so the Tecate performance was not too
far out of line. The 20 large floats
with elaborate decorations and dancers and marchers and music for each one are
impressive. The shoulder to shoulder
crowd five deep on the roadside is enthusiastic and sometimes throws eggs which
break on the floats scattering confetti.
I think the only float throwing things to the crowd is the Fresca soft
drink float. There is a substantial
police presence and lots of drinking in the crowd but neither rowdiness nor
crime is evident. Deb takes lots of
pictures and visits in sign language with a family next to us on the curb. After the parade we walk in the dense crowd
for over an hour just observing the food, beverage, performance on multiple
stages and the people themselves. It is
easy to see from their dress who is foreign and who is at home. Less than one percent are foreign and less
than one percent of the spectators are in costumes but it is a different one
percent. Eventually we walk a mile and a
half home to tuck our tired selves into bed.
Spectators in spectacles
Photos by Deborah B.
January 21, 2013. Sailing north from Bahia Agua Verde in light winds, we find ourselves ready for a rest with no harbor nearby. As we approach the north end of Monserrate Island a panga speeds toward us with the crew waving a dirty gallon water jug. I gesture for him to come over and am happy we have water to spare. He must have burned almost a gallon of gas to make the two mile trip from his camp to meet us. Fishermen spend weeks camped on remote islands in conditions that would have to improve considerably to be Spartan. There is no fresh water and they occasionally approach yachts requesting resupply. These two are very dark skinned, not very talkative, but appear grateful. Leaving the fishermen with their fresh drink, we are still without a harbor so we drop anchor near an exposed shore with a sand beach. We’ll be fine if the winds do not exceed the forecast.
In an area known as Tembabiche, we spend a day ashore hiking
through the sparse vegetation admiring the tide pool creatures and scrambling
over the rocks. Some of these rocks have
dramatic color and shapes apparently resulting from wind and wave erosion. Also in this area we see the same fisherman several
times over several days. “Manuel” approaches us to sell fish of course, but on
days he has poor luck fishing, he offers embroidered placemats his wife made
and even old fishing lures.
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