Sailing Cabo to La Paz, November 9-15, 2013

Monday, October 28, 2013 was one of the scariest days of my life. On that day I made the decision to give 2-weeks-notice at work in order to go sailing around the Baja peninsula. When I was first approached with the idea, I didn't think there was any way that I could make this sailing dream a reality. I had my 8am-5pm job, my dog to take care of, bills to pay, and a pathetic excuse for a savings account. Dropping everything to go sailing was a ludicrous idea... but so far, it's been the best decision I've made in a long time.

Flying into the airport at San Jose Los Cabos was an adventure in itself! Every other time that I've flown into a Latin American country the plane is packed with native Spanish speakers, and many times I've been the only white girl on the plane. This time the plane was glowing with white faces belonging to bodies adorned with Tommy Bahama-esque clothing and giant sun hats.

After landing and walking through the terminal, I was swarmed with men in polo shirts asking which hotel I was going to, which shuttle service I had booked, did I need a taxi, and did I want to buy a time-share. It was a bit more than overwhelming, so I clung to the nearest gringo, and while the salesmen assumed we were together, I managed to squeeze by with minimal harassment. While standing by a counter trying to figure out the shuttle situation, a man approached me and started speaking in Spanish. I was able to make out "muy fuerte" as he reached for my arms. I just laughed and kept looking for the shuttle schedule, but then another little man approached me, again only speaking Spanish. The few words I could make out were "por favor.... abrazo". Abrazo! I know that word! He wanted a hug! So I gave the little man a hug, which turned into a bit of a domino effect -- it seems many of the employees wanted un abrazo from the fuerte gringa. 

Once the hug-fest was over, (at least they are friendly people!) I found the shuttle going to Los Cabos Marina in Cabo San Lucas and was on my way.

I was the absolute last person in the shuttle, other than the driver, who conveniently spoke ONLY Spanish, and had no idea where the marina was. I finally saw an area that looked touristy, even though all of the shops had closed by his time. There was one building open -- an office for booking tours! He MUST know where the IGY Marina is! So I told the driver in my best Spanglish, "aquí está bien. Puedo caminar." With my giant dry-pack, I stumbled into the tourism office, smiled, and asked "Habla inglés?"

If he didn't answer yes, I don't know what I would've done. 

The Marina I needed was nearly a mile away, but at least I was going in the right direction now. I went to the dock and slip number that Gaël, the skipper and owner of the boat I was to be sailing on, had told me the boat was docked. There were so many boats packed into the docks, raft-up style, that I couldn't find the 40 ft X-Yacht, GravlaX. Luckily, a nice gentleman saw the confused look on my face and offered to help. Captain Mike Harris, delivery boat captain currently living in La Paz, let me keep my bag on his boat while I searched the Baja Ha-Ha awards ceremony for Gaël and his crew, which didn't take much time at all. 

After the awards ceremony, I wandered up to the bar (which consisted of 3 giant ice chests filled with Modelo, and a 'help yourself' service system) where I met many crew who had sailed in the Baja Ha-Ha Rally. Then 'last call' was made for the drinks, so I recruited Alan, crew member of s/v Diamond Girl, to help secure as many Modelos as possible -- our version of provisioning :-)

With my bag and everyone's pockets filled with cold beers (I'd managed to wrangle a few more crew members: Peyton, Kevin, Erling and Donovan), I returned to Captain Harris's boat to retrieve my dry-pack and drop it off at GravlaX. Captain Harris gladly joined us for a round of drinks (or 3 or 4...) while we hung out on the dock drinking our Modelos. After a few cold ones, Captain Harris turns to me and asks "How is it that you leave here, not knowing where you're going, not knowing where your skipper or boat are, and manage to come back with a bag full of beer and 5 guys?!"

My first night in Cabo was epic, from drink specials at The Drinking Team Sports Bar to synchronized dancing at Squid Roe, this town sure knows how to party. While the rest of the crew decided to continue getting their party-on, I decided to end the evening with tacos al pastor en la calle and a swim in the Marina.

After a night of getting acclimated to Mexican culture (sarcasm...) it was time to embark and do some actual sailing. The first day the skipper and I made our way from Cabo San Lucas to the Marina at San Jose Los Cabos. This turned out to be my favorite stop of the trip. The Marina is relatively new so there is not much development around it, which I love. The people are very friendly, the weather was perfect, and the area was a beautiful mix of ocean and desert.

It seemed that Montezuma decided to unleash his revenge on skipper Gaël, so we stayed an extra night while he battled with his insides. I, however, felt just fine ;-)

Over the next few days, Gaël gave me instruction, lessons, and even quizzed me on the sailing knowledge I was gaining on the trip. It was a great experience, and I'm happy to report that by the end of the trip, I successfully flaked the main!

I still have a lot to learn, and I definitely need (and want!) more experience being out at sea. The more that I learn about sailing and the more time I spend on a boat, the more I realize how much I love it.

We made our way to La Paz, where we rented a car and drove back to the airport in San Jose Los Cabos. I got my flight back to San Diego with only 3 days to prepare for the next leg of my Latin American adventure: Nicaragua.

 

this can't be it. is it?

The desk I sit at is an odd shape, making it uncomfortable and sometimes difficult to move from one task to another. My computer screen sits at a jaunty angle, the keyboard slides out on a tray that is just a little bit too high in relation to the height of my chair, and my elbows are constantly hitting the backrest of the chair as I type. Despite all of this discomfort, these are not the things that distract me and prevent me from being productive while I am here at work; instead, it is the constant day-dreaming of world travel that persuades my mind to neglect my priorities and obligations.  

 

 

My interest in travel began when I studied abroad in college – I know, how cliché and common. I had a terrible first year at University, which acted as a catalyst for me to get out of California and see what this world had to offer – because there HAD to be more to life than the constant demolition of hopes and dreams that I was experiencing at that time. I enrolled at the University of Queensland in Brisbane, Australia. It was great; I moved into a co-ed college just off campus (colleges in Australia are equivalent to dorms in the US). I made some great friends, had some awesome experiences (and some not-so-awesome ones as well), and came home a year later with a better knowledge of the world, an appreciation for other cultures, a smile on my face and newfound optimism for life. 

 

Australia Zoo

 

I went back to Australia, about 4 years later, after I had completed my BBA, but the real “travel bug” hadn’t hit me yet. I still enjoyed traveling, but my desire to travel didn’t develop until September 2012; 5 years after returning from my second Australian visit.

 

The little plane from San Jose to Tambor, Costa Rica

 

The bug was planted in March 2012 when I went to Costa Rica for a surf camp package that my Mom had bought for me as an early birthday present. I hate to admit it, but I was terrified to be flying to Costa Rica alone! I was a victim of social stereotypes and skewed government hype. In my mind, Central America was a hostile, scary, dangerous, and dirty place, full of drugs, guns, and kidnappings. I pictured me, a little blonde, white girl, stepping off the plane, welcomed by banditos pointing rifles and semi-automatics at me. Regardless of this perception, I packed my bags and flew south. When I arrived in Tambor on the Nicoya Peninsula of Costa Rica, the warm, humid air hit my face and from that point on, the smile upon it never disappeared.

 

The view from inside the plane of the "airport" landing strip in Tambor, Costa Rica

 

I fell in love with Central America and its diverse cultures. I have since returned to Costa Rica, taking my Mom down for Thanksgiving 2012, celebrating the holiday at a beach party, complete with bonfire. I have also visited (twice) Bocas del Toro in Panama. The last time I was there, I almost didn't come back to California. I was determined to find a way to not only return, but create a sustainable life for myself there. I wanted to live in Central America... or so I thought.

 

Thanksgiving, Costa Rica style

 

I came home, completely infected with Wanderlust. I sat at my desk and instead of running the constituent reports that I was tasked with, my internet browser was open to a dozen tabs, each with more information and blogs about traveling in Central and South America. This then spread to the Caribbean... and then the South Pacific... and Asia...

My viral desire to get up and go was unstoppable.

 

Our living room in Bocas del Toro, Panama

 

I began planning another surf trip with the girls I had met from the camp in Costa Rica, and we made arrangements to rent a house in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua, for Thanksgiving week 2013. I was so excited to be visiting another country in Central America, but then I remembered how hard it is to leave at the end of the trip. It is truly heartbreaking, and each time I go back there, it is more difficult to leave.

 

Ticos & Ticas in Costa Rica

 

So, two weeks ago, I took the plunge. I quit my job.

 

Sunset in Santa Teresa, Costa Rica

 

I leave tomorrow for a week-long sailing trip from Cabo San Lucas to La Paz in Mexico, fly home with 4 days to do laundry, repack, and prepare my house to be rented before I head back to the airport to board my flight to Nicaragua. After the surf trip, I will be making my way from San Juan del Sur to Cartagena, Colombia (that's the plan, anyway).

I hope to keep this journal updated (I hate the term blog) to document the inevitably numerous adventures that will come.

 

Rope swing at Montezuma Falls in Costa Rica

Thanks for reading :-)

 

Hangin' with the locals