Baja Part One
“If it were lush and rich, one could understand the pull, but it is
fierce and hostile and sullen. The stone mountains pile up to the sky
and there is little fresh water. But we must go back if we live, and
we don’t know why.” -Steinbeck
About this time last year we began talking about the rest of our lives.
We had the chance to move to the city, live in our small condo there,
and make a lot of money, while pursuing our chosen careers. Kate had
just earned her masters in mechanical engineering from Berkeley, and
I had completed the requirements for my administrative credential in
education. Kate held a job at a rapidly growing carbon capture start
up, and was making a healthy salary.
Later that spring we made the choice to abandon ship. We sold everything,
and decided to become homeless, and live in our van and accelerate our
‘retirement’ plan of sailing around the world. We didn’t know exactly
what we would do, but we knew that wintering in Baja would be part of
the plan. On November 15 we crossed the southern border again.
We had a leisurely start, and spent our first night in Puertecitos, near
the hot springs there. This is kind of an interesting spot, as the hot
springs are tidepools, filling up with hot water on a low tide, and then
welcoming the cooler ocean water back in as the tide comes back up. Timing
your soak for the right moment to get the desired water temperature can
be a challenge. On this occasion we hit it perfectly, and had a nice soak
as the rain absolutely pounded down. Sitting in the ocean, feeling the
small swells go by as I cooled off from the hot water, I began to feel
at peace being back in Baja, which feels more and more like home each time.
The next day we got a slow start, still considering stopping along the course
of the Baja 1000, which was going on this week. In the end we decided to keep
driving, and rolled up pretty decent sized waves breaking in the bay, with
gentle offshore winds. I increased the pressure on the accelerator slightly,
bouncing over the final miles perhaps a little faster than strictly appropriate
for the size of the rocks and depth of the mud. Getting to the point, there were
perfect peeling waves that looked to be about chest high. I jumped into my
wetsuit, slammed some fins into the 5’10 and paddled out. As usual, it was
slightly bigger than I initially thought, maybe a couple feet overhead. Feeling
slightly undergunned, I paddled into the pack of three other guys. What a first
session. When this wave is on it is almost machine like. As my confidence grew
I kept taking off further and further behind the peak, and having so much fun
with the grinding walls all the way down the point. Unfortunately my upper body
was fat and flabby from a summer of hiking and biking. I came in exhausted and
found camp in a great spot on the bluff above the break.
We spent the next 40 days in exactly that spot. Some days were better, some
were spent sitting around. I found a nice piece of driftwood, and buried it
in the dirt near the van so I could hang my hammock. Flat days I went spear
fishing and managed to get a halibut which was delicious. Other people have
been much more successful with the fishing than I have, and I find myself
wishing I had brought a pole for days when visibility was not so good.
On the good days I pursued the lifelong goal of getting better at surfing.
I feel like I am finally beginning to recognize what I am doing wrong.
The click that occurs when something goes right on a wave is such that it
makes the pursuit of the next one that much more imperative. It’s an
addiction, and the mornings when there are four of us out trading absolutely
perfect walls make memories that I will never forget.
We fell into a life of surfing, running, and riding our funny little e-moped
around on the maze of dirt roads. We bought a new 600 watt foldable solar
panel for this trip, and watching the amount of power we can generate in a
day has become a hobby. Even in late December, close to the solstice, we are
able to bring in three kilowatts, charging our bike, running the starlink,
and fueling our tea habit.
This time has been sort of a dry run for our sailboat. One of my dreams is to
sail the boat to a remote atoll in the Pacific, and stay there for months.
Being self sufficient in regards to food and power is an obvious prerequisite.
Spending 40-50 days on one trip to the store has been fun, and keeping track of
our power consumption attunes us to the attitude we will need to adopt as
sailors. Our boat, an Outremer 4x, should come out of the boatyard in September
of this year. We are very excited to make the transition from vanlife to boat life.
Boat decisions have also consumed much of our time, and also a large reason why
we made the decision to have starlink on this trip. We need to have connectivity
in order to correspond with Outremer via email and zoom. It has also been very
useful to research some of the decisions that need to be made on the new boat.
As we come closer and closer to the final spec sheet she begins to take shape
in our mind, which is exciting. In nine months we should be close to stepping
aboard and taking her out for sea trials. Aside from that, starlink has been a
mixed blessing. Being connected in one of the most remote locations in North
America is a bit silly, and it is easy to get sucked back into the vortex of
the internet.
