We reluctantly left the lovely anchorage at San Quintin around
In the lee of Cedros, the waves had calmed enough for me to get out my lovely, way-too-expensive rod and reel. I didn’t expect to catch anything—I mean, how many people do on their first try? Two minutes. That’s all it took after the lure bounced in about 50 feet astern. I thought at first that I’d hooked kelp, but that baby was running with my line. I finally had to call Michael to help haul him in as I don’t yet have anything like a fighting chair.
He was beautiful. Novice that I am, I pulled out the books to try and identify him. It wasn’t until I started to clean him that I finally determined he was a bonito. Grilled, it was like eating steak. Even Michael enjoyed it.
M added rpms so we’d get to the anchorage before dark. We pulled in around
And didn’t sleep much at all. It felt like being at sea, rolly and smelly from the bird rocks. This morning the grib files showed the wind clocking back to the west and then northwest, so we moved in closer to town.
Now we’re floating in pelican bay, with a cormorant squadron off out starboard side, keeping watch as the big guys circle, plunge, and plop. Quite a show.
We bought diesel from a young man named Rogelio who has lived here 18 years minus one in Cabo, which was not his favorite place. $2.55 a gallon plus $20 service. Might have been cheaper at the dock, but this was much, much easier. Besides, he took the trash.