With the calm winds and waves we departed La Paz. After twelve weeks in La Paz, it was a bit of a shakedown cruise to Ensenada Grande on Isla Partida.
Motoring out of the La Paz channel
We were the first boat to pull into the anchorage but before long we were joined by four other boats. A bit of down time after the La Paz social calendar meant we kept to ourselves that night and enjoyed a great meal before calling it an early night.
Evening on Ensenada Grande
The following morning we were beat out of the anchorage by a charter monohull, not by much but enough to see they were headed to check out the sea lion colony. The water temp was more than 20 degrees cooler than November, ouch. So we’re biding out time before attempting to snorkel.
Morning departure north
The sail, rather motor across to Isla San Francisco we found a north wind that began at 10 knots and grew to 21 by the time we arrived in Punta San Evaristo. Not horrible, but we put up with a long stretch of pounding the bridgedeck gave us a minuscule 4.5 knot average. It felt good to drop the anchor in the protected bay and get to shore for a bit of exploring.
Looking out on the San Evaristo anchorage
There are salt ponds a short distance away following a dirt road.
Salt ponds
Along the way was a shrine carved into the wall for Saint Mary. Exploring the salt pounds we drifted over to a cemetery.
Seemed like an odd place, as it was very exposed to storms from the North but the dozen or so plots seem to have take more abuse from time rather from storms.
Wandering back we headed over to Lupe’s restaurant. A cold cerveza after a hot walk, perfect. Only problem, once we arrived the music was on but the place was all closed up. Bummer, but we have beer on board so no biggie.
Sunrise for our early departure
With a longer passage (47 nm) to Agua Verde we pulled up the anchor before the sunrise and made our way out into the lake that was the Sea of Cortez. Nearly no swell and a few hours of a small speed boost from the jib got us settled in at Agua Verde before two in the afternoon. By sunset the anchorage swelled to six boats, the last being the charter monohull (with a captain) who plopped down nearly on top of us. What an ass clown.
Said Assclown squeezed between Strikhedonia and the small yellow monohull
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