Shiver me timbers

I'm sure those fortunate enough to have explored Baja Mexico from the Sea of Cortez would agree with me when I say it's wild arid beauty is an absolute feast for the senses.
Whether sailing a boat, paddling a kayak, or even for those navigating dusty old roads to get to the coast, most who end up there discover a rich spirited land that speaks in volumes.
Bright warm sunshine, the turquoise water caressing long unoccupied stretches of white sandy beaches, wind sheltered bays lined with flowering dark green cactus, yucca, and other small shrubs,
and everything seen with a back drop of burnt almond and mustard colored mountains that reflect shades of pink and crimson whenever the sun comes up or goes down.
This tiny spot on our little blue planet has an energy that reminds me of a Sergio Leone movie where it's always high noon, always enchanting and if a person is looking to stir up a quieter sense of adventure it becomes an easy choice.

I had the opportunity to travel there in 2008 and give a friend a hand working on his sail boat.
Oceans Ark the 37 foot Challenger Catch had been in dry dock for a number of years and our plan (a loose plan) was to get the boat sea worthy and go sailing afterwords.
I'd never sailed before much less worked on a boat so this undertaking was completely new, and also strangely exciting with the promise of a good sailing adventure yet to come.
There was lots to do, much to learn, and Captain E and I were both up for the challenge.

Now writing a play by play on everything that happened preparing Oceans Ark for launch day could make for a long story, so I'll keep this part brief. For a full month E and I worked a steady eight hours a day. We replaced, refitted, repaired, cleaned sails, and wiped everything down (more than once).
Painted, stained, buffed, travelled to other towns to get things needed, downloaded sailing charts,  packed gallons of water, dealt with holding tanks, and in between doing all this there were those smaller cosmetic jobs that also take time but never get mentioned.
Just staying hydrated and healthy in the intense San Carlos Guaymas heat was a full time job.
Getting the boat ready was a lot of hard work so the morning Oceans Ark was slowly wheeled down and placed in the water we were both more than just a little happy about what we'd accomplished, we were ecstatic like giddy children on Christmas eve or the last day of school before summer holidays. We were also exhausted from the hours of work leading up to this day and anxious for the next stage of the adventure.
The decision was made to push off as quickly as we could, as there were a number of other boats being launched that morning and unless renting a spot to berth, the space we were holding could become an
issue.

                                                                    Oceans Ark


We were preparing to make our departure when an old sea faring gentleman walked down the dock and as he came along side our boat he stopped and inquired "are you going out or coming in"?
E replied "we're just leaving"! With an odd look and a slight hint of concern in his voice the man told us the winds were going to be a strong north westerly of 25 to 30 knots, he then slowly turned and made his way back up the dock. E had checked the conditions earlier and didn't seem all that troubled because we weren't going to be doing a major crossing. The plan was to anchor in the shelter of an island that was an hour away if we sailed and half that time if we used the engine.
We slowly motored out of the marina into open water beaming from ear to ear happy to finally be away on our journey and after ten minutes cut the engine and hoisted the main sail to get a feel for Oceans Ark under wind power, it had literally been years for E and never for me.
Tacking in a wind that was up and blowing hard was difficult and after a couple unsuccessful attempts to bring the boat to the starboard side E decided to hoist the head sail or jib to help get some speed up and asked me to take the helm. OK why not, I had to learn so may as well get to it!
I put myself behind the wheel, he got busy rigging up the jib, and this is when everything took a turn for the worst and went sideways.
While E was on the bow being tossed around like a stiff legged drunk I was working at tacking the boat to the starboard side. Everything was going well until the loud heavy "THUNK" and the sound of something letting go inside the binnacle stand.
That deep "THUNK" sound seemed to drop straight into the pit of my stomach and the feeling that surfaced screemed whatever just happened wasn't good!
In the next moment I realized it was worse than not good, we'd lost our steering!
I shouted "Hey E we've just lost our steering" and to elaborate I gave the wheel a quick spin like I was running a casino game out of Vegas. Only this wasn't a game!
E looked at me with eyes that I swear grew to the size of silver dollars.
He raced the length of the boat ducking and weaving around shroud cables and turnbuckles and in the five seconds it took him to cover the distance the realization we actually didn't have any control and were in big trouble set in.
Black jagged rocks jutting out from the coastline like gut crunching teeth, the strong relentless wind, and the deep dark waves all of a sudden seemed much bigger, stronger, and deeper.
In a wave of panic E jumped into the galley and called the marina with "Mayday, mayday!" (We didn't have a secondary source for steering). I ran to the bow only now it was me who was the stiff legged drunk grappling and hooking myself onto things trying to bring the headsail back down and not get thrown into the drink in the process.
While on the radio E thought to drop the anchor and once it grabbed hold and the boat stop drifting he cancelled the mayday.
We were in a bad spot unable to move and anyone coming into or leaving the marina would have to make sure they gave us a wide berth. It was a good thing the weather conditions were keeping most boaters off the sea which in itself begged the question - what exactly were we doing out there?
The waves and wind pounding the boat tossed us like a dog picks up a mitt and shakes it around and those brave smiles for adventure that had stretched across our faces only thirty minutes earlier disappeared completely.
Personally I wanted E to radio back to the marina and ask for a tow to a safe stable place and suggested it. There was resistance in him to doing this as he felt this could be a rough tactic to perform at the time but he did phone the marina and asked for a berth for the following morning.
A couple hours of being in those conditions is one thing especially for a guy who's never sailed before but being in it for one complete afternoon and night made it a very challenging experience.
It wasn't as though we just sat there either.
We got busy right away trying to understand what happened and what was needing to be fixed.
After a number of hours of wrestling with overly tight screws and bolts snapping tools in the process  we discovered the steering chain (much like a motorcycle chain) had broken and couldn't be repaired until we were back on shore where we could get the parts (links) needed. It would have been almost impossible to re jig everything into place in those conditions even if we'd had the parts.

                                                     The binnacle without the Helm


So there we were the next morning two very tired discouraged sailors still anchored in the throws of strong N/W winds accompanied by good size rollers, heads heavy from very little rest, hungry because we were unable to eat, (probably a good thing) feeling completely unbalanced and out of sorts.
E changed his mind about being towed into the marina, instead his new plan of action was to put the dingy into the water, tie a tow line to Oceans Ark and pull us the distance to the safe shelter of the Island.
It would be an assumption, a total projection on my part as to why E didn't want to return to the safety of the marina to repair the steering but it had become quite evident he was really wanting to avoid going that route. I had voiced what I thought we should do the day before and left it at that.
I can't say I was happy with this new plan. No in truth I was quite uncomfortable with the way the picture was unfolding.
STRONG WINDS, BIG HEAVY SEAS, TWO NOVICE SAILORS = IMPENDING DOOM!
Pulling/towing a 37 foot sailboat in a 25/30 knot headwind with a 7.5 horsepower outboard strapped to the back of a feather craft of a dingy was unsettling to say the least.
We dropped the dingy into a very choppy sea, and E nervously made his way over the side and down into it.
After carefully passing him the outboard he tied the dingy in where he wanted it, I pulled up the anchor and E turned the throttle on full to try to get things moving.
Well everything began moving alright, straight towards shore and those jagged shiny black teeth jutting out of the water.
Even at full throttle the wind and waves were far too strong and because E was facing open water and couldn't see how close we were getting to the rocks, the panic of being powerless to the elements had once again taken hold reminding me just how quickly things could get out of hand.
The situation was quickly slipping into complete and utter pandemonium when a large sports fishing vessel came cruising out of the marina. Not sure if it was taking a charter out or where it was going,  didn't matter to me. It was a big white fiberglass angel and we were floundering big time and needing help.
So there I was first waving one arm then frantically waving both my arms to get their attention and just like that they were motoring up beside us and within a couple minutes we were hooked to their stern being towed to the protected bay of the Island two miles away! Yes believe it or not, E asked that they drop us there.
At that point it didn't matter which way we were going, just getting away from those grinning jagged black rocks, the driving wind and the pounding waves was a huge relief.
Once we arrived in the protected waters of the Island, it was with huge gratitude we thanked and said our goodbyes to the charter boat owner,  dropped anchor and rested quietly for the rest of the morning absorbing the calm and processing everything that had happened in the past 24 hours.

The raw reality of what can happen on a sail boat, and how quickly things can spiral out of control was very fresh and left me unsure, giving serious thought what the next month on the Sea of Cortez might look like for E and myself.
We'd only just started this journey and having to deal with such extreme conditions straight away took me way past the edge of my comfort zone. You could say I had the wind knocked out of my sails!
Funny now snicker, chortle, not so much then!
Being in the sheltered safety and comfort of the Island was literally euphoric and over the following week we continued to relax and eventually found our rhythm again.
We enjoyed the sun, E fished, I swam, and the steering was eventually repaired, which I might add was a lot more work than first thought.
As the days passed so did the nervous residue from our first day out, we found our confidence again and started discussing the open water crossing to the Baja.
Everything was ready, we were ready, it was just a matter of waiting for the right weather conditions,
the right day.

I think this might a good spot to end this segment (part one) of my Baja Adventure.
I'll continue with part two in a couple days.....  you'll never guess what happens!