This morning we took off early, but still behind three other boats, headed north. Weather was predicted to be nothing. And since the channel we’d be going through is known to be an occasional boat buster with strong currents, funneling winds, and steep seas, we were as eager as the rest of them to slide through unscathed.
It’s kind of funny actually just how many stories I’ve heard of terrible crossings between Mazatlan and La Paz, and yet we’ve never had any weather issues to deal with in any of our four crossings of the Sea. The reason must be that we’re just really, really good sailors. Or maybe it’s that five or ten minutes a week I spend studiously dissecting the weather. Whatever it is I am happy about it.
So anyway, we made the forty-odd mile run up and around the corner, eventually anchoring in one of our favorite spots, Puerto Balandra. Twenty-five feet and we can see the anchor sitting on the bottom—that’s always nice. Then there is the beach where the water is so shallow and clear that the kids can just run amok. And maybe, just maybe, fish tacos from the big yellow truck tomorrow. Fingers crossed.