Sailing Baja California

By Roberto Vargas Saenz

Why We’re Sailing North to Puerto Peñazco to Go South to Costa Rica

While it may seem counterintuitive, our goal is to eventually bring this boat all the way to Costa Rica. But before we can make such a long and demanding voyage, the boat needs to be properly prepared—and that requires time, space, and resources. Instead of starting the journey south immediately, we made the decision to first sail north through the Sea of Cortez to Puerto Peñasco. Why north? Because Puerto Peñasco offers significantly more affordable dry dock services and skilled labor than other ports like Mazatlán. It’s the perfect place to haul the boat out of the water and carry out the upgrades and maintenance it needs. This trip is just the first leg of a much bigger journey: bringing the boat home to Costa Rica.

The Launch: Days in Mazatlán

We spent our first six days docked at the beautiful Marina in Mazatlán, carefully preparing our boat for the long-awaited expedition. Though some tasks took longer than we expected, we were proud to complete every item on our checklist.

The only complication came from the engine’s mechanical fuel pump, which began acting up. After discussing our options, we decided to install an electric pump—despite the risk of pressure imbalance. We did everything we could to ensure it would perform well.

Other than that, everything was in order: a new power inverter, USB chargers, Starlink internet up and running, a clean boat, engine maintenance including an oil change and seawater filter cleaning—everything was ready.

On the afternoon of day six, we set sail.

Day 1: The Expedition Begins

We left the marina at 3 PM, heading for La Paz. One hour in, the inverter started acting up. For a moment, we considered turning back—but I suspected a loose battery connection. I tightened the cables, and it worked.

We resumed course and settled into night watch shifts: Erick from 9 PM, me from midnight, and Fi from 3 AM. Smooth sailing into the night.

Day 2: Engine Failure in Open Water

By noon we had crossed over 100 miles. Suddenly, an engine alarm forced us to shut it down. Initially, we suspected a loose alternator sensor, but fixing it didn’t stop the alarm.

Then we noticed—no water from the exhaust. It likely meant a broken seawater pump impeller, and we were far from shore.

Then I remembered seeing a spare impeller onboard. Erick dug it out—and incredibly, it was the correct part. We removed the pump, confirmed the damage, swapped the impeller, and brought the engine back to life. It was a huge relief.

Day 3: First Landfall – Cerralvo

We spotted Baja California at dawn. Dolphins joined us—though I missed them, having just finished my shift. Later, we encountered a massive cargo ship off our port side. Though we had the right of way, we called them on VHF. First they told us to cross in front, but when they saw our distance, they firmly changed their minds: “Do NOT pass in front of us.”

We quickly corrected course and passed safely behind. Sailing and motoring combined gave us excellent speed.

Later that day, the fuel pump faltered again. We stopped to refuel and let it cool down. It started up just fine afterward. We made it to Bahía de Ventanas and thought the coast guard was shadowing us—but it was a tour boat searching for mobulas.

The ocean was alive: leaping rays, sea lions, flying fish everywhere. We anchored near a deserted beach. As usual, we dove in to check the anchor and hull—a brief freedive in cold water. Back on deck, we rinsed off with sun-warmed water and grilled chicken while watching the sunset. A perfect end to a wild day.

Day 4: Coastal Exploration

We awoke to glassy seas and a stunning sunrise. Our dinghy engine failed, so we rowed to shore, flew the drone, and explored on foot. By the time we returned, the outboard had started, and we made it back in a minute.

Later, we snorkeled near the boat and ate a hearty breakfast. The sandy bottom wasn’t great for diving, so we resumed our course to La Paz.

The coastline was breathtaking—desert cliffs plunging into the sea. We saw dolphins hunting and leapt in with snorkel gear, but they ignored us and moved on quickly. No hard feelings.

Approaching La Paz, the fuel pump gave out again. Luckily, we had a spare. Still, it was clear we needed a full engine check.

It was Saturday during high season, so no marinas had space. We anchored two miles out in a safe spot. Strong winds picked up overnight. I set an alarm every two hours to make sure our anchor held. It was a rough night’s sleep.

Day 5: Diving with Sea Lions

We woke to strong winds and cold air. Skipping our morning swim, we brewed coffee and waited for calmer conditions. It was Sunday, so we planned a nearby dive before seeking repairs the next day.

We arrived at Roca Lobos, where sea lions lounged on the rocks. The current was too strong to anchor properly. For a moment, we thought the dive was off—but then a dive panga dropped divers without issue. We mimicked their strategy, and it worked.

Erick and Fi dove first. When they returned, grinning, I couldn’t resist and joined Fi for a second dive. Fi acted as our divemaster. We circled the rock and encountered sea lions halfway through—playful, curious, and unforgettable. We surfaced elated.

We still had no marina space, but a restaurant let us moor 30 meters from shore. We had a great Mexican dinner while keeping an eye on the boat. Beers and stories followed back on board.

Day 6: Marina at Last

At dawn, I called Marina Fonatur. Good news—they had space for two nights. We navigated through a narrow channel flanked by grounded sailboats. Finally, we docked. Electricity, Wi-Fi, hot showers, and even an Oxxo—paradise.

I reached out to mechanics for engine repairs. Nearby, I discovered a dive shop. To my surprise, the manager, a Catalan, knew about our dive center in Costa Rica and Marta Cambra. We connected quickly.

The owner, Nacho from Madrid, told us Tuesdays were quiet. I proposed: “Two dives for $100 each.” He agreed. That night, we prepped gear and grilled dinner.

Day 7: Observing Other Dive Ops

We did two dives with Nacho’s operation. As a dive professional, I’m always curious about how others run things. It was fun, though unremarkable. First dive with sea lions again, second a shallow site that felt like a filler.

Water was a steady 20°C. Staff were nice, our Australian guide did well—though she seemed new, and we’re hard to impress.

Still, for $100, it was worth it. We spent the afternoon washing gear and cooking outside again. The grill was becoming a favorite.

Day 8: Fixing the Engine Ourselves

The morning began with uncertainty. The mechanics couldn’t solve the problem, so we decided to handle it ourselves. Erick went to AutoZone while I prepped the tools.

A small saltwater leak from the exhaust hose was dripping onto the engine—just a few drops, but enough to cause trouble. Disassembling the part revealed corrosion damage, so Erick took it to a welder. It would take a full day to fix.

While he was gone, Fi and I headed into La Paz for a beer at a local bar. It was a quiet evening—no drama, just boat chores and good company.

Day 9: The Last Fix

We were anxious to move on. Time was slipping away, so we made it our mission to finish everything. Last-minute Walmart run, filled fuel tanks, and finished the engine repair.

But then—we hit a snag. The last hose had a small leak and needed a special fitting. It was 5:30 PM. I thought we’d lose another day. A quick Google search led me to a possible shop. I sprinted to find a taxi, and the driver went full hero mode to get us there.

By 6:00 PM, the piece was repaired. I installed it, and it worked perfectly. We were ready to leave the next morning.

Day 10: Grounded at the Channel

We left before 10 AM toward Espíritu Santo Island, aiming to dive the sunken ship.

We were steering just outside the marked channel, feeling confident given the boat’s shallow draft. I had a slight concern and mentioned it, but as a crew we agreed to continue. Moments later—we ran aground.

Luckily, it was just a sandbank. Full reverse and some effort got us free, though the dinghy line was cut by the propeller. Lesson learned.

We reached the wreck and started our dive. Fi and I went first—conditions were perfect. At 20 meters, we found the wreck: large, well-preserved, and with wide-open interiors. Inside, a massive turtle swam among large fish. We even surfaced briefly into an air pocket inside the ship, laughing like kids.

At 30 minutes, an alarm sounded from above. Without a park permit, we feared rangers might be approaching. We surfaced—nothing. Just an unexplained alarm and an empty sea.

Erick and I did a second dive. He loved it. We ended the day with a spectacular sunset, full moon, and a calm, desert landscape. I flew the drone, we cooked, and we tried to sleep.

But the wind picked up at 11 PM. Waves rocked the boat all night. I woke up every 30 minutes to tie things down and adjust the dinghy.

Day 11: Farewell to Espíritu Santo

With the rough night behind us, we decided to continue sailing. We were behind schedule.

It was a smooth day of navigation. I napped to recover, and by 3 PM we reached Las Ánimas, a small island with a towering islet nearby. A deep channel separated the two.

Fi and I dove while Erick stayed onboard. We explored a narrow underwater cave—light at the end, but too tight with tanks, so we backed out. Sea lions were everywhere, playful and curious. The dive was a total success.

We sailed through the night, switching watches as usual, aiming for Loreto.

Day 12: Discovering Loreto

The sunrise over Loreto was surreal—still water surrounded by dramatic cliffs. I took pictures and sent them to my mom.

As we approached shore, we found a tiny marina and anchored outside. Erick dropped the anchor, and we took the dinghy in. Locals pointed us to the best spot to tie up.

We met David, a friendly pangero who offered us a ride to get fuel. We explored the town—a gorgeous, historic place full of colonial architecture. I even stepped into a Sunday mass, drawn in by the church’s art and solemn beauty.

Later, we had lunch by the sea, then searched for David but couldn’t find him. So we walked to the gas station. Ramón, a teacher fueling his red pickup, offered us a ride. He stayed with us while we filled up and refused payment—a truly kind soul.

Back at the boat, we cleaned the hull, snorkeled, and prepped for an early departure. Before sunset, we took one last walk through Loreto—live music, cobbled streets, and barefoot memories under moonlight.

Day 13: Diving at Punta Púlpito

We left at dawn. The sea was calm and coffee was brewing. I refilled our tanks and made breakfast.

We first scouted Isla Coronados, but the dive site was too shallow. We continued on and found a steep underwater wall near Isla San Ildefonso.

Fi and I flipped a coin to see who would dive first with Erick. I won—twice. Erick and I dove, following our plan. We hit a current but managed.

The dive wasn’t spectacular—mostly sand and little structure—but we worked hard and stayed safe. After 20 minutes, Erick was low on air, and we had to surface.

The current was brutal. We swam hard but made no progress. Eventually, we signaled for Fi to rescue us with the dinghy.

Later, Fi and I did a second dive—this time deeper and better planned. We saw nudibranchs, large moray eels, and unfamiliar feather-like organisms.

We ended the day with grilled meat and salad, and due to nitrogen fatigue, we cut our night watches down to two-hour shifts.

Day 14: Welcome to Santa Rosalía

I woke at 6 AM and navigated through shallow waters near Isla San Marcos, where a massive industrial barge was loading construction material.

Later, we encountered a large pod of striped dolphins. I dove in, but they sped away. As I swam back, a massive sea lion appeared beside me. Startled, I climbed out quickly—it’s mating season, and I didn’t want to be mistaken for a rival.

Fi had better luck. I maneuvered the boat over the dolphins and signaled him to jump. He got a short but sweet encounter.

We reached Santa Rosalía and were greeted by Marco Antonio, a humorous and warm marina host. He explained the port’s mining history, tied to the French and the copper boom.

After fueling, showering, and chores, we explored the town. The Eiffel-designed metal church was a highlight—shipped from Belgium to Mexico by a wealthy French mining magnate.

We visited the mining museum before returning to the boat.

Day 15: Toward the Midriff Islands

We left at 10 AM, aiming to dive the Midriff Islands. Erick cast a small lure and, bananas onboard be damned, caught a dorado big enough for dinner.

As the wind picked up, I set the sails. By dusk, we were doing 6 knots under wind alone. It was pure sailing joy. We sailed until midnight, then the wind died suddenly.

Day 16: Salsipuedes

We reached Isla Salsipuedes and decided to dive there. Erick stayed aboard. Fi and I used the dinghy and dove at 14 meters. The water was cold—17°C—but rewarding: unknown rays, strange nudibranchs, and 12 curious sea lions.

We sailed on to Puerto Don Juan, a perfect natural hurricane refuge. Two other boats were anchored, but it could fit fifty. We spun 360° on anchor during a 40-minute tidal shift—an unforgettable sunset.

Dinner and backgammon ended the night.

Day 17: Hiking Puerto Don Juan

This place was too magical to leave. We hiked the hills, reaching 260 meters of elevation with no trail—just rock and desert.

Back onboard, Fi and Erick dove a nearby rock. I tracked their bubbles from the dinghy. Visibility was low, and the water was cold, so we called it after one dive.

Dinner and backgammon again—Erick had taught me, and now I was winning.

Day 18: Bahía de Los Ángeles

We began with our usual cold dip and coffee. After backgammon and breakfast, we sailed to Bahía de Los Ángeles.

It would be the last town before our final crossing to Puerto Peñasco. We stocked up on provisions and used the internet one last time.

Day 19: Crossing to Isla Ángel de la Guarda

The channel between the island and mainland was narrow and brutal. Wind and waves battered us for five hours straight. At one point, we considered turning back.

Once through the channel, everything calmed instantly.

We reached the island’s northern tip and found a perfect anchorage—quiet, protected, and wild. We stayed for the night, planning a dive the next day.

Day 20: Diving with Hope (and Sea Lions)

Morning brought a choir of birds and sea lions. I launched the drone but was chased off by aggressive birds.

Erick and I dove first: a rocky slope to 27 meters, full of glowing green algae, white coral, and colorful sponges.

After warming up, Fi and I went deep—38 meters. Dark and cold. No sharks, but we stood face to face on the sandy bottom, laughing through hand signals.

A third dive followed on a separate rock. Fi and Erick dove while I stood watch.

Then, just as we were leaving, six whales surfaced near us. We jumped in for a swim—no good footage, but an unforgettable experience. The sound of their spouts echoing around us in open water was enough.

Day 21: Puerto Peñasco

At dawn, buildings appeared on the horizon—Puerto Peñasco. We’d made it.

The marina was industrial, surrounded by fishing vessels, but we felt proud. We tied up and turned off the engine. Mission accomplished.

The boat was hauled out by crane. We spent one last day in town, said goodbye to Erick over a special dinner, then boarded a bus to Mexicali to fly home.