We started to miss La Cruz even before we left.
After firing the dufus who botched some of Moonshadow's interior varnish, we immediately resumed plans to sail north to the Sea of Cortez. So those last few days with friends and the friendly townspeople of La Cruz were a bit melancholy.
Here is a town filled with happy and hard working people who love their Mexican heritage and really seem to enjoy life.
La Cruz has attracted many talented musicians who love to play at the dozens of night spots that feature live entertainment, like La Britannia where open mike night always includes a beer holder on the mike stand...
...and through the evening, you're likely to see five or six singers, three bass players three drum players, a half dozen guitar players, and if you're lucky, Leon the washboard player, or Chris Bouchard, another friend of ours (with the mic in the photo below) who has a beautiful boutique Inn just down from the casita we lived in called Villa Amor del Mar. Chris can really sing!
We will always remember friends we've met in La Cruz and hope to see them again soon. Like Ed and Connie of the sloop Sirena, whose dismasting was discussed in a previous blog post, and who introduced us to their favorite restaurant...
... and drove us in their car to a cool little town up the coast named Chacala for lunch where the shore break was epic.
Speaking of driving, we rented a car to do our last minute provisioning and learned the hard way how the light signals control the "lateral" traffic lanes. Nothing 800 pesos couldn't fix.
Finally Moonshadow put Banderas Bay in her wake beginning a 43 hour passage to the Baja Peninsula. We never had enough wind to sail but were treated to flat seas...
... a golden first night's sunset...
... a stunning sunrise...
... and another beautiful sunset, this time sinking behind the rugged mountains of the east cape of Baja...
... and finally we were greeted by some of the locals at Caleta Partida, a cove between the islands of Isla Partida and Isla Espiritu Santo.
As usual, we celebrated with an "anchor down" libation.
We had to rub our eyes to get used to the unusual juxtaposition of the turquoise water and brown Baja desert landscape. We are used to seeing palm trees and lush greenery where the water meets the land. But here, well it's Baja.
Baja is a geologist's heaven with multi colored striations of sediment thrown onto an abstract artist's canvas by the violence of volcanic activity.
A rainbow of earth tones...
...framed in the blues of water and sky.
If these colors were viewed in a painting the critics would call it exaggerated or stylized because nature is never this vivid.
It is!
A few days later we found ourselves alone in the cove created by a long sandy spit swinging southwest from the southern end of Isla San Jose called Bahia Amortajada.
Through a narrow and shallow entrance behind a sandbar is a canal that leads through mangroves to a large open lagoon that can only be explored by dinghy.
This place is surreal.
The turquoise water here is contagious. This soaring vulture's white feathers have been transformed into green from the water's reflection.
Even our dinghy caught the green disease.
The feast for the eyes seems to be everywhere you cast your gaze.
When you glance away from the blues and greens of water and sky, the undulating remnants of volcanic tumult are everywhere you look.
It's easy to imagine how the tribal indians that once roamed here saw spirit's work in everything around them.
Then you're jolted back to reality...
... or is this reality? Do boats like this really exist?
Sure they do.
Doesn't everybody have a four story inflatable water slide they can bring along to remote Baja?
1 comment:
Wonderful post and thanks for the shout out! Wow, the colors are amazing! BIG (((HUGS))) to you both!
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