Rumiko's Maiden Voyage

Well, we survived our first sailing trip on our own boat. Rumiko performed beautifully – from what we two novices could tell. We were out for 12 glorious nights. We buddy-boated the entire time with Isis, and were accompanied most of the way by Monsoon.

We sailed 60+ nautical miles north of La Paz, and ended our northern journey in a quiet fishing village called Nopolo. Village is a bit of a misnomer – it is, more specifically, a cove with a couple of houses in it. We met the folks who lived there and traded some beer and gin for a fish called Pargo, which is a snapper-like fish.

Our trip was filled with great hikes, swimming, snorkeling, shared meals with friends and, of course, sailing.

Lisa has created a googlemap of our journey, which you can view here. On the map you can click on the various places where we anchored, and view photos and descriptions of our activities. Or you can visit our Fotki site to see just the photos. We'll hopefully be posting more photos of this trip on Fotki in the near future.


We had only one slightly scary incident on the trip. On Day 2 of our trip we were sailing downwind (i.e., the wind was from the south, at our backs). The winds were light enough that we felt comfortable hoisting the spinnaker. Up it went, the big circus-tent sail filled with wind – poof! - and we were, well, sailing! Our mistake was thinking that we could sail into our anchorage at Caleta Partida with the spinnaker still raised. As we turned the corner into Partida we were hit with a strong wind from the east, and we had to fight to lower the sail. Not knowing the proper technique, we were trying to lower it while it was still filled with air. The force was too much, and both of us got rope burns out of the ordeal. Luckily, it was only Day 2, so we still had ice on board. Ice, and a stiff gin and tonic after anchoring the boat, helped soothe our pains.

The rest of our sailing was quite smooth. We were able to play with our sails while heading downwind, upwind and with the wind coming at us from the side. We became quite well-practiced in raising and lower our four main sails (the main, the staysail, the jib and the spinnaker). And, as Dan liked to quip, we greatly enjoyed sailing with “three sheets to the wind.”

Ruminations from our maiden voyage

Light
At times, the light coming through Rumiko’s sails was incredibly beautiful. We also spent a lot of time admiring the quality of light through Isis and Monsoon’s sails (because they tended to be in front of us).

The play of light on the ocean itself was at times blinding and at other times mesmerizing.

After just two weeks of sailing Lisa is beginning to really appreciate Bruce Cockburn’s lyrics “All the diamonds in this world that mean anything to me are conjured up by wind and sunlight sparkling on the sea. . .”

Life

Oh my goodness! The Sea of Cortez is full of life. During our trip dolphins, fin whales and sea lions visited Rumiko. We spent a great deal of time oohing and ahhing at the acrobatics of the dolphins, which would leap in pairs or threesomes, sometimes seemingly hurtling themselves 8 to 10 feet above the surface. Sometimes we’d be sailing along and hear the pffffff pfffffffff and know that there were sea critters in the vicinity. In many of the anchorages we had schools of fish surrounding our boat. Isla San Francisco was notable – beneath Rumiko's hull we saw a very dark cloud, which we assumed was sea grass, but then the entire cloud moved and we realized it was composed of fish. Millions of tiny silver, sardine-like fish. Sometimes part of the cloud would jump out of the water and drop back down like rain.

The best sea-critter encounter, however, occurred while sailing from Isla San Francisco to Ensenada Grande. The wind completely died at one point, so we found ourselves bobbing like a cork on the sea. The sun was beating down on us, so Lisa decided to go for a swim. She dove in and within a couple of minutes was joined by half-a-dozen dolphins. It was very exciting.

Land
We knew we were going to enjoy the fact that our little boat is both a home and a vehicle. Our little mobile home took us to some remote anchorages. We were able to row our dinghy to shore, put on our hiking shoes and head off into canyons and up to ridges with spectacular views. (View some photos from our hikes on our Googlemap of Rumiko's Maiden Voyage)

So far, the terrain reminds us very much of the high desert regions in Arizona, Nevada and Utah. But the one difference is that in addition to the cacti, it is almost a certainty that one will come across many many seashells carried ashore by birds.

Dan did one hike at Nopolo that took him into country that no other human would really want to traverse. He came back from that hike slightly dehydrated and scratched up from the prickly vegetation.

Nopolo was also where we did a hike with Isis and Monsoon, and where Quinn found buried treasure.
Water
We’ll not expound on sea water right now. This paragraph is devoted to fresh water, and its increasing value in our lives. Rumiko has a 20-gallon storage tank for fresh water, as well as jugs that hold a total of 24 gallons. We calculated that in the 13 days that we were out, the two of us used 46 gallons of fresh water. That’s just over 3.5 gallons or 13 litres per day (less than three flushes of a low-flow toilet). Fortunately, we flush Rumiko’s toilet with salt water, so our fresh water is only used for drinking water, rinsing clothes and dishes, and showering. We showered (using a portable solar shower) every day, because otherwise we would have tracked salt into the living space of the boat. This is something to be avoided, as salt retains moisture and will soon make the living space feel very clammy. Or so we've heard.

Onward into the Sea
In a few days we shall be leaving La Paz to begin our journey deeper into the northern Sea of Cortez/Gulf of California. We will be in the sea for about two months, with the intention of keeping within a day or two of places where we can find safe anchor during hurricanes. The hurricane season starts any time now, and will last through September.

Our loose plan is to sail until mid-August, then put the boat somewhere safe while we take a month or two to move our belongings from Reno to Durango, and visit friends and family in the States and Canada.

Our communications will be scant for the next two months as internet services are sporadic in the northern Sea. But we will try to blog whenever we have a connection.