Turtle Bay

Early in the morning of October 31st, we started the first leg. It consisted of 360 miles from San Diego to Turtle Bay. After only a few hours we lost sight of most of the 130 boats in the fleet. Another thing we did not have much contact with was wind. Reluctantly, we motored most of the way after only about 8 hours of sailing. There were only two boats that patiently sailed the entire leg! This would be a two night sail and the night watches were split amongst the six of us so that we did two hour shifts at a time. I was responsible for the 6 p.m. to 8  p.m. watch but found myself keeping the others company in the hopes of viewing the glorious sky full of shooting stars. We constantly checked the radar for any boats in the vicinity. We possibly had a near collision when a boat appeared not to realize that their lights were off and did not respond to our calls to them on the VHF. About 2 miles out from us, they finally responded, and at that point we were forced to change course. We were thrilled to find, in the early morning, porpoises that arrived in the wake of our bow as if to welcome us to our destination at Turtle Bay.

Upon our arrival we were on the lookout for lobster traps with buoys made of plastic coke bottles, as their lines could easily get entangled in the propeller. As we sailed into the bay, the colorful cemetery high above on the cliffs and the long pier, where the locals eagerly awaited our arrival, came into view. Young boys also greeted us in their dinghies, seeking to collect our garbage in exchange for US dollars. The Baja Ha Ha had made this stop for its 12 years of voyages and we were welcomed with open arms. Our fleet arrived in waves filling up the harbor with their majestic boats. The small village consists of a few dirt roads, a couple of markets, a few restaurants and recently, Internet Cafes. The Baja Ha Ha was the event of the year for the village. Upon arriving, we loaded up on diesel gasoline at the pier where a number of the local boys assisted our crew. We looked for Ernesto who the Captain recalled from his previous Baja Ha Ha voyage, but he was no where to be found. Then, I located the new jefe, Enrique, who turned out to be Ernesto’s brother. It appears that Ernesto enjoys his beer a bit too much and so Enrique, thankfully for all, was now pumping the gas.

The first of many parties during our journey took place at the Vera Cruz restaurant, high up on a hill overlooking the harbour. The owners of the restaurant decorated it in balloons, welcoming this windfall of business that had landed their way. The various crews gathered at their tables, sharing tales of the first leg. Shots of tequila were the favorite choice amongst the group and there was no shortage of it. There were folks jamming with instruments they brought along with them. In the back of the restaurant was a large room with a bar and disco ball hanging. Apparently, this is the main destination for locals to get dressed up in their finest outfits for a night on the town. There was an air of excitement to the evening. Many in the crowd had prepared for months, possibly years to do the Baja Ha Ha and now they had officially arrived. It was quite a thrill to be a part of this unique group who can claim they have sailed the Baja Ha Ha.

The following day, the Sumatra crew gathered after a scrumptious breakfast cooked by Libby that consisted of scrambled eggs with spinach, tomatoes and feta cheese along with coffee and tea. We slathered on the sunscreen and all piled into the dinghy to go to shore. Awaiting us were children everywhere competing to assist us in bringing our dinghy ashore. As they completed the task, they would stare at you with their big brown eyes in the hopes that we would dole out US dollars to them; and we happily did. The night before, we gathered in the saloon with every type of candy imaginable spread out on the table. We tied them into red tinted, saran wrap baggies. When Libby passed out the candies to the children on the beach the next day, it was quite a scene. They gathered around her as if she were Peter Pan; gleefully jumping and pulling at her to get their share of the loot.

Miguel, one of the locals, recognized Jerry from the 2002 Baja Ha Ha. Bursting with happiness, he shouted out,"Geronimo," as he recognized Jerry from the t-shirts he had given him during the previous rally. He appointed himself our personal guide and chose to take us on a tour of Turtle Bay. The dirt streets were dusty and the houses were modest, but he proudly brought us around as if it were his kingdom. We were escorted from one end of the village to another and we were introduced as his good friends. Our tour started at the new mercado, supermarket, that was squeaky clean and full of food and merchandise that one would not have expected in such a small village. Then, we were escorted to a new bakery where Pinatas hung everywhere, and we feasted on delicious pastries. Then off we went to the opposite end of town where we ate at a Mexican restaurant that blared Spanish soap operas, as our not so relaxing background music. At last, we visited the local cemetery that consisted of the best real estate in the village; high up on the hill overlooking our sailboats in the harbor. The Mexicans treat their dead with respect and it was apparent from the colorful wreaths and flowers gathered upon their graves from the recent el dia del muerte celebration.

We started the next day with a potluck party on the beach that was strewn with huge tents, a volleyball court and DJ's spinning tunes. Each of the 130 boats brought a dish for the potluck and included anything from Swedish meatballs to ahi tuna straight from the ocean served sashimi style. The two DJ’s spinning tunes included one that played more traditional Mexican music, while further down the beach another DJ played more upbeat techno and dance music. Beers were readily available although at different prices. At the traditional music, the beers were $2 while down the beach they were only a $1. Leave it to the logic of us being in Mexico! We had a blast feverishly dancing to the beat on the pristine beach with the desert and cliffs looming in the background. Many of the cruisers brought along their children and lucky for them, Owen, who crewed on Scarlett, was available. Armed with a degree in recreation, he kept their kids occupied while their parents partied on. Many others kept busy with other activities such as playing volleyball or taking hikes in the hills. I eagerly raced up the hills with a few from my crew only to find that my fear of heights kicked in when I foolishly looked down and found myself on a ledge, seemingly only 3 inches wide. I had to sit down and crawl to where the cliff widened again. Although I was disappointed not to get killer aerial photographs, I was thrilled to dance again with my feet firm on the ground. We stayed at the beach until it was sundown. The six of us reluctantly piled into the dinghy and made our way back to Sumatra to get ready for the next leg to Bajia Santa Maria.