Beautiful Pacific Coast Baja Bays

February 19 to 28

Hipolito to Bahia Ballenos and Laguna San Ignacio to Bahia Santa Maria, Pacific coast of Baja

We head for Mexico’s Pacific coast Baja bays so that we can each rest full nights long and drink in a piece of paradise where desert meets the sea. At last the high-population umbilical chord is cut and I can feel a sense of freedom. A weight is lifted. I want to anchor out where the road is less travelled and where the spirit can soar. Where the frigate birds chase seagulls and the surf breaks and wind is heard. Where at night a deep stillness comes about when stars penetrate the black skies.

We’ll take what bay emerges as each day dawns: Hipolito, Bahia Ballena and Laguna San Ignacio, and Bahia Santa Maria. Here are my pictures taken along the way.



Isla Natividad and Islotes Chester virtually penciled in across from Isla Cedros, 29 miles from Turtle Bay on a glassy silver sea day.


Holland America Line cruise ship, Oosterdam, passes through Canal de Keller between Isla Cedros and Russ’ fishing rod on a no wind no breeze day as we head toward Turtle Bay.


The ship brought Dutch luck with a shiny tuna on the hook for dinner. Marinate in ginger, garlic, olive oil, a touch of soya sauce and white wine, and pop it on the grill. I understand I will be dining with the ship’s captain tonight.


Zulu luncheon menu: smoked salmon and cream cheese with Italian parsely on olive oil-toasted-seeded bagette slices with avocado and tomato salad, Organica white wine from Argentina, and red seedless grapes on deck with an accent of mainsail sheet.


The breeze picks up and the gray sky cracks open to reveal baby blue late in the day. We pass Cabo San Agustin, the SW corner of Isla Cedros, and contemplate anchoring off of Black Tooth in south Bahia del Sur, but get a reality check when we come into kelp from depths of 300 ft to 35 too late in the day.


Sunset comes upon us as rapidly as does the shallow water. We won’t anchor in Bahia del Sur nor make Turtle Bay in daylight where fuel and a good night’s rest lay in waiting. We’ll cast our lot that winds will come and sail on through another night preserving fuel.

Hipolito: 26 degrees 57’N, 114 degrees 00’W

Hipolito is an ear-shaped bay about 18 miles long with Table Mountain rising in the background. The name Table Mountain pulls on a heart string as I remember climbing the mountain with the same name in Cape Town, my native South Africa.

We round Punta San Hipolito giving it a 1-mile margin as black reefs still carry the pieces of shipwrecks from time gone by. This is a windsurfers dream spot. We tear in under sail. A small village is nestled along the NE side of the point and the beach is a helter skelter of tumble rock. Come into the wind. Drop the sails. Drop the anchor.

Slowly the light show starts with the setting sun. The village houses are golden against the dry desert backdrop. Shadows—then bursts of light that cast a soft glow on the mountains. Rose-colored clouds, blue sky. The color spectrum turns its hues on the earth as we swing in circles in the wind.

Night comes and the wind howls across the bay. Zulu tugs at her anchor and the rigging clatters. I cannot sleep so step into the cockpit. Before me the universe is at large. The stars are innumerable, infinitesimal, beyond comprehension in scope, yet so close and so bright without moonlight.

I imagine I’m le Petite Prince and the universe is my umbrella and the sole I stand on rests on a blue black sea that breaks on the reefs at the Punto San Hipolito. I spin around and around and the anchor holds in a world of my own.

The lights of the small fishing village shine. A spotlight shines on the gravel beach where the pangas are readied for fishing. Listen to the wind. At last I fall asleep.


We arrive as the last light of pastel pink on baby blue is cast on the mountains that rim Hipolito’s east bay, the end of another day. The winds have died down temporarily.



I think about my Table Mountain of Cape Town, South Africa as I look out onto Hipolito’s mountain of the same name. The winds howl in the night. At last I go to sleep.

Bahia Ballenos (Campo En Medio): 26 degrees 43.99’N, 113 degrees 32.63’W

Sarah e-mailed me warning of the reefs around Punta Abreojos. She had found the route of sailing bloggers who stopped here on their way down the Pacific Baja coast and on to La Paz. We see why she warned us and note that Abreojos means ‘open your eyes’! We do just that. Give the point a wide, wide berth. Thankful for the wind, we sail in to the second anchorage around the point called Campo En Medio in Bahia Ballenos, away from the village. Into the wind we come. Drop the hook.

Early morning we row a good distance to shore, avoiding the reefs and haul the dinghy up the beach a long way. Up on the dusty desert road a gentleman stands in front of an old truck. A yellow T-shirt and khaki pants. Sunburned face and bluest of blue eyes. His name is Ed, a gringo from Huntington Beach, CA. He’s built himself a sweet house in what I call Gringo row. We take him up on his offer to drive us to town. Into the truck we go and the dust flies.

Ed helps make proper connections for us to get a panga (open boat) to Laguna San Ignacio to see the whales spawning. I wish we could have spent more time with him. He ran operations for ski resorts in his younger days and sailed an American built schooner named, Thales, up in Seattle waters to Alaska, Hawaii, and Mexico. Now in his later years he’s found his perfect spot overlooking Bahia Ballenos.

Take a photo walk along the beach of this beautiful bay.



I call this Gringo row, down from the village of Abreojos. It is really Campo en Medio. The early morning sunlight shines on the shore. Ed’s house is the butterscotch one, second from the right.

Close up of Ed’s house.

See the snazzy deck on top of this beach caravan. No-one is home.

Cool digs.

Fishing boats in for the day in the village of Abreojos.

The catch will go to the co-op. Fishermen cannot sell out of their boats.

A woman meets incoming fishermen. She has oranges and limes in the bag.

I could walk for miles and miles and miles. Am heading back from the Village to where we met Ed. I don’t ever want to stop walking.

Somebody thinks America is 100 percent bueno. Smile. It sure is.

The bay off the village of Abreojos. Long way to walk to Zulu.

Zulu anchored behind the reefs.


Zulu anchored at Campo En Medio. No sharks. Nothing to bother you, except watch for stingrays when you walk into the water. Shuffle your feet.



Russ rows back after retrieving my ‘lost’ glasses found on the floor of Ed’s truck. He stayed awhile to have a beer on Ed's verandah and talk of days gone by.


I have to show you the sunset as it progressed off Campo En Medio, Bahia Ballena.


The sky lights up the water


It intensifies. You can see Ed’s house - second from the right in silhouette.


A paler light show to the east.


More that is different. I cannot let these moments go without recording them.
Over and over again, day after day.

Laguna San Ignacio, off of Bahia Ballenos

I don’t have words for this experience. So, pretend you are with us in the panga with Jose, who is taking us from Abreojos to Laguna San Ignacio. This is a biosphere reserve and thankfully well protected. We cannot take Zulu there or our own dinghy.

This is where the gray whales come to court, mate, and train their yearlings from December through February-March. The mothers give birth to calves here and stay ever so close to them, and suckle them, and then in April or so they make the long journey north as far as Alaska. For now, this is their world and their passage cannot be altered. We are guests in their world.

This experience is equated to being in the Okavango Swamps in Botswana, where what you are surrounded by, in the animal kingdom, is greater than I, by far. Where humans become humble.

Once in the lagoon, Gabriel is waiting for us and we transfer to his panga. His eye, ever watchful, he whistles softly to the whales, splashes his hand in the water to beckon them closer. And they listen. And we smile. Come with us now.

Russ and Jose on the way at 7:00 AM from Abreojos to Laguna San Ignacio.


Mother Gray

See those blow holes?

Gabriel lightly splashes the water beckoning mother and calf to the boat.
See how close they are?

Mother and baby right by the panga.

Russ’ hair is bristling. He is in awe.

He touches the mother whale. I can’t imagine how it felt.
I had to keep looking through the camera’s eye.

A little one is curious. Where’s his mama?

Russ takes a quick shot of Gabriel and Marilyn. The lens is splashed by a whale spout, through which a rainbow temporarily shone. So amazing.

Big mama whale looks like she could be a hippo without ears.

The patterns and color of their skin.

So close. So beautiful. So amazing.

Another set of spout holes. See the barnacles on her back?

Where’s this little one going?

Gabriel is ever vigilant - looking hip with those glasses and ear ring.
He is so in tune with the whales. So calm with presence.

Jose is waiting for us. We’ve been with the whales for two hours.

Russ looks for more whales. We’ve only seen about 50.

Bahia Santa Maria, 24 degrees 46.27’N, 112 degrees 15.52 W

We come into this beautiful bay formed partly by Isla Magdalena and a low spot between it and Bahia Magdalena. It was windy. We round Point Hughes and rip to a scary halt as we point into the wind and drop the sails at a clatter. There are shrimp boats and two sailboats anchored.

By the next day all but one sailboat and Zulu stay. The other boat has no name. But it has 4 young people on board who put us geysers to shame. They surf the reef break, snorkel, hike the ridge up Point Hughes, dinghy over to the low dunes that lead to Bahia Magdalena. All we have done is gone for a boat paddle, not able to land because of surf, and I have jumped into the water and out in a hurry. Caldo.

See the beautiful colors of this bay.

Cabo San Lazaro lighthouse to the left. The land is almost lilac against bluest of blue water. We are 155 miles from Cabo San Lucas.

This was a close one. As Gral Alberto raises their anchor they come ever so close to hitting us. Russ let anchor chain out and tells me to gun it in reverse. See the chap with his arms crossed over his chest.

More shrimp boats in the last of Santa Maria’s sunlight.
They all leave the next day.

Home delivery by panga: fresh lobsters for $2.00 each.

Gotcha! Poor little thing has to face water in a pot.

Hey! Do you spot the Beluga? The water is cold!

Looking out to Point Hughes, Santa Maria Cove: Daylight

Looking out to Point Hughes, Santa Maria Cove: Dusk

Looking out to Point Hughes, Santa Maria Cove: Night
with the crescent moon and Venus.

Where are we going now?

Where are we going now? The view changes each day as "stuff" happens. Our outboard motor gave up after $700 work on it in Seattle. We have not used the motor since Seattle gave us green light all was well. THANKS!

Also, one of the solar panels have quit putting out energy since Russ switched it off to see if the alternator put more energy out without it while running the boat's engine. Life on a boat is not all frills, rather drills!! Plus a heaping tablespoon of beauty.

We either have to slow things down and spend the hurricane season in Banderas, which Russ does not want to to, or speed things up if we want to avoid the rainy season in Costa Rica May through November: torrential downpours and lightning strikes.

I would like to head out to the Galapagos in April from wherever we are and then continue to the Marquesas. The South Seas and its clear aquamarine water is calling strongly and I don't want to cut the season there short. Russ still thinks to continue down to Ecuador, skipping Panama, and then head out to the Galapagos and on to the Marquesas. But this thinking might be waning now the outboard is kaput. We can't do any side adventures without it.

The bays of Baja have truly been beautiful. The Mexican people, too, have been so polite and giving. We want to continue the road less travelled. The cities and big towns and tourist traps and trapping we could leave behind. Happy to leave Cabo for La Cruz and places south!!

Arrived in La Cruz seeing whales, dolphins leaping and bounding and virtually hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of Booby birds.

It will be awhile before I can post further blogs. Until later, keep checking shiptrack to see where we are.

It is muchos caliente. Hotter than the dickens!!! I want snow!! We think of you all with love.