Sailing Mexico’s  Forgotten Coast: West coast from San Carlos to Barra de Navidad

San Carlos to Altata




San Carlos Marina and Tetakawi in Background

This is such an unusual adventure I’ve decided to document it, letting our friends know what we experienced. This may also provide important information for anyone else contemplating sailing the little-visited west coast of mainland Mexico from Guaymas to the very popular Mazatlan.

After three years of sailing within the Sea of Cortez, I was looking for something new as well as warmer water. Last winter, 2014-2015, almost everyone was snorkeling in wetsuits.  I decided that we should explore the southern coast of Mexico below San Carlos, our starting point each winter in the Sea of Cortez. I knew that there would be a tradeoff – I would have to accept hotter air temps to get warmer water. It would remain to be seen it I could handle it. Keep in mind that I left California because it was too hot.

There is a very good reason that this area is not included in many cruisers travels. I read all I could get my salty little hands on and thought surely there would be great things to see and discover. Being an estuary junkie, I was excited to see so many estuaries along this stretch of coast.

We crossed the border at Lukeville, just south of Organ Pipe Nat Monument and east of Nogales, on the 1^st of November this year. For the first time since we purchased Gitana, our Cal 34, we were able to have her go directly from the storage yard into the marina. Since the coast from San Carlos to Mazatlán isn’t considered good for cruising, it isn’t covered in any cruising guides. The best cruising guides for the Sea of Cortez and the west coast of Mexico are published by Bansmer and Breeding and their “Pacific Mexico” guide doesn’t start until Mazatlan. So I immediately started putting out the word that I was looking for anyone that had first-hand experience sailing this section of the coast. I announced this on the morning net and Margie responded that she had done it and just happened to be visiting the boat next to us that very day and would be willing to share her knowledge with us. Margie provided us with some great insider info and I felt that we were ready to start our new adventure.

Of course everything we do hinges on the weather. A “blow” was coming in three days and we wanted to set sail before it hit. We left Marina San Carlos on Friday morning and made it about half way to Guaymas when Greg turned on the manual bilge pump. In no time, the saloon floor was awash in smelly, oily bilge water. Thinking that there might be a slight chance of sinking, we decided to head back to Martini Cove, just outside of the San Carlos Bahia.

Martini Cove. The Mexicans love to party on the water. The "bow babe" above was having a special day complete with floating orchestra. It was quite entertaining.

After an extensive search for possible sources, Greg discovered that a bilge hose that ran under the cockpit had cracked at a 90 degree turn. The water had flowed back along a ledge into the cabin and leaked out onto the floor and into the lockers under the after berth and settee. Now, we have washed the floor with a lot of unusual things such as balsamic vinegar and sour dough starter, but I have to say, the oily bilge water was the most difficult to clean up. We couldn’t replace the hose, but Greg found a piece of hose with an inner diameter that matched the outer diameter of the cracked hose. He slipped it over and tapped it in place. So far, no more leaks.

I have to point out at this point, that I do not like over-night sails so I insist on looking for a place to anchor. Early the next morning we were on our way again, under full sail, in search of our next anchorage. The wind started to build and we were making good SOG (speed over ground) on a starboard tack when Greg noticed that the starboard headsail sheet (line) wasn’t attached anymore. I quickly pulled it into the cockpit to avoid having it wrap around the prop and we continued on (a mistake).


The wind continued to build and it became clear that we had too much sail up, as usual. Gitana jibed and with a loud crack the boom came across. It happened with so much force that it knocked the stop off of the port side of the traveler track and the main sheet tackle flew free of the boat. The boom swung from side to side with the triple block flying past our heads and smacking the tops of the solar panels. I eventually managed to grab the main sheet assemble as it flew by (without injury) and miraculously, the solar panels weren't damaged. After securing it, I turned the boat into the wind and Greg attempted to furl the headsail. The wind wrapped it in the wrong direction and the sail and lines became hopelessly tangled. The waves had grown to 6 feet and controlling the boat became very difficult for me. Gitana has a tiller that is not well balanced and it is hard to control it, see the bow and watch the wind indicator at the top of the mast at the same time. Gitana also has very low freeboard, meaning I have very little distance between me and the water. The waves were not in line with the wind and they were slapping at the sides of the boat. Cinnamon, our 19-year-old cat, has started getting sea sick in his old age and he was in bad shape. At the worst time possible, he came out of the cabin. A large wave swamped the boat and he was drenched along with me. I was afraid that he might get washed overboard and there was no chance of recovering him. I had no choice but to grab him by the scruff of the neck and fling him back into the cabin, soaking wet and scared.

Time and again, Greg tried to untangle the sail and lines. By the time he gave up I was shivering uncontrollably from the cold, wind and stress. Sailing with the headsail puckered up allowed the wind to get a grasp and cause it to start snapping; a situation that we have seen often in our marina when boat owners don’t secure their headsails. It always led to damage and it did again this time.  First one rip, than two and finally three rips spread from the leach in the top third of the sail. There was nothing we could do about it. Fortunately we had the Sailrite sewing machine with us and Greg might be able to repair it.





 

We were totally exhausted at this point and all I wanted to do was anchor. All those great estuaries? You can’t get near them. The shore is so shallow that you're miles away in only 10 feet of water. We ended up anchoring in a roadstead off of El Tanque and spent a very restless night in the rolly anchorage. Anchoring anywhere along the Pacific coast, other than a very protected anchorage, will expose you to the constant swells of the Pacific Ocean. When the winds finally die at night your boat turns parallel to the waves and you get rolled from gunnel to gunnel. Having a stern anchor to align the boat will be on our list.


The next morning as Greg was putting the main sheet back on the traveler, the top triple block dropped to the floor of the cockpit. Upon examination, the through bolt had developed crevice corrosion and the head had broken off. Fortunately, we had a replacement.

We motored to our next anchorage next to the Topolobampo Marina, which is reached via a long circuitous route. Using the coordinates that Margie had provided, we worked our way in, only touching bottom once briefly.  We relocated to the marina so that Greg could refill our fuel jerry cans. During our brief stay in this very minimalist marina, Greg replaced our damaged head sail with a used spinnaker he had purchased in San Diego.

Topolobampo with Marina at far left.

 
No one spoke English at the marina and no one responded to our calls about a slip. Our new friends on s/v Hooroo, home port Australia, hailed us and told us to come on in. The gal in the office was full of smiles regardless of what was said. I had just enough Spanish to handle the check-in procedure and get directions to the banos and ducha (shower).

The shower was an experience in itself. It was in the general restroom that the yard staff used. After locking the door I looked for a way to hang my bag and clothes - nothing. As I tried to adjust the water temp, the hot water faucet fell off in my hand. As I showered I noticed the water rising; when I opened the door the whole room was flooded and my bag was wet! When I tried to explain this to the “smiling lady” she just wasn’t getting it. She turned her computer screen around and offered me a translation program which worked quite nicely. She smiled as she read what it had translated and said “yes, we have no hot water”. It wasn’t clear that anything was going to be done about the drain, but later we saw someone working on it.

Shrimp boat at anchor outside of Topolobampo

The marinas in this area of Mexico are much cheaper than in the US, and WAY less than we paid in Canada. Topolobampo wasn’t the greatest value. This marina is scheduled for expansion, but anchor out if you can.We did have a cerveza store across the highway and the music from the adjacent high school band though (which I enjoyed). We walked over to the cerveza store and asked for an 8 pac of Pacifico. The very nice young Mexican fellow told us in English 2,000 pesos. That’s $125. When I started pulling out 500 peso notes, I hadn’t stopped to figure the conversion, his eyes got big and he apologized. It was 200 pesos – he was struggling with his English. We all had a good laugh over that.

Gray whale and future fountain in public area outside of marina.

The colorful fishing fleet adjacent to the marina.

We left Marina Topolobampo at high tide and carefully watched for the entrance buoys. We got a little off course and got firmly stuck! I managed to flag down an API boat (official agency) and they very kindly diligently worked to free us. We waved as they departed and then discovered that the transmission cable had broken and we were at the mercy of the current and wind. I was very concerned but Greg calmly verified the problem, and removed the companionway steps to access the lever. Forward and reverse would take more planning now since he would have to go below and adjust the switch.

By this point we had decided that we were going to try to reach Zihuatanejo by December 17 and rendezvous with friends that would be staying there. Deadlines are always the downfall of sailors; they cause you to make stupid mistakes.

We studied the maps and decided that if we were really careful we could anchor in the estuary to Altata. I found an aerial photo of the entrance to the estuary and it showed extensive shoaling at the northern edge. Shoals aren’t stationary and the recent storms had most likely rearranged them. We approached the opening way after dark and we were exhausted. One important rule in sailing is never enter an unknown anchorage after dark. I wanted to anchor and get some sleep and we figured we were experienced and we would be very careful, so we decided to give it a try. We were way off shore and couldn’t see exactly where it was so we cautiously approached the shore. It got shallow very quickly and before we knew it we were right where we knew we shouldn’t be – in the shoaling area. Within seconds we were in less than 6 ft of water in pitch black conditions. The breakers began pounding the boat, rocking us violently from side to side and we couldn’t tell which way to go. We hit bottom hard but had enough speed to plow through it. Then we grounded and came to a dead stop. Gitana began to move a little each time a breaker crashed into us. I had no idea which way to steer and kept asking Greg where he thought we should go. Somehow, the boat turned, began to float and we started retracing our track in. We were incredibly lucky. There may have been a little skill involved, but it was mostly luck. Within a few minutes we were back in deep water and couldn’t get away from Altata fast enough. We sailed through the night on adrenalin to our next anchorage.

Boats that ground and battered by waves frequently end up being torn apart. Later we learned that a 65’ Beneteau yacht had entered the shoals outside the entrance to the Altata estuary. The boat’s keel was shoved up into the hull and it was a total loss. Someone also told us that they entered during day light and had to have a pilot boat guide them in. We have definitely learned our lesson. We will NEVER do that again. We may never visit Altata.


Cinnamon on the night watch.

Topolobampo Sunset

On to Mazatlan....