Sayonara Sonora and Hola Sinaloa

Wednesday 19th May
Did you see what I did there…
Yes I said goodbye to Guaymas and the state of Sonora and sailed south to Topolobampo, on my way to Mazatlan. I’m now at anchor outside Topo, in the state of Sinaloa. Sinaloa could be famous for its crops, it’s amazing coastline, but I think it’s most famous for its world beating drug cartel. In particular, a certain Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán who is now serving a long sentence in a US prison. I’m hoping to avoid having to become a mule or any other awkward moments with the cartel, and I believe Mazatlan is one of the few places Americans are allowed to visit here if they follow their governments advice. I havent checked with mine.

Sunday 16th Guaymas Fonatur Marina
I cleared out with the marina ready for an early departure on Monday morning. If I want to get to Topolobampo before dark on Tuesday I needed to leave here around 5am on Monday. I prepared the boat, which mostly meant stowing stuff away, I poured 40 litres of fuel into the tanks from cans, then failed to get them topped up. Popped to the shops and after an extensive hunt, found some cheap non slip plastic material I could use to keep things from moving on passage.
While out shopping I checked the tides and found that at 5:30am on monday the tide would be very low so I made the decision to leave now and go to anchor locally so that wouldn’t be a worry. If I went back to the bird island I could also shave an hour off the next day’s journey, and sleep in an extra hour.
So back on the boat, it took 30 minutes of work and the lines were cast off and I headed out.

I was soon near the bird island, but decided to push on as I still had an hour of daylight left and headed for a small bay called Catalina, not to be confused with the californian island.

The stench of fish factories was awful on the way, and after one big shrimper passed me I found myself motoring through some horrible sludge, dead fish, and lots of waste, which I presume had just been dumped by the ship. Its big business here and the normally picturesque coves that line the coast were full of big factories with steam/smoke rising from them. My destination was the last cove, and upwind from them, so it was a relief to pull into a calm bay, that smelt ok and drop the hook just as the sun went behind the mountains. Stienbeck wrote about this area back in the 20’s, nearly a hundred years ago, and described the huge fleets of shrimpers dragging their nets along the seabed destroying and killing everything in their path. He wondered how long it might go on for, well sadly I have to report, it’s still going on, probably to a lesser extent.
It looked like I was rather close to a big rock, but the chart had me 100 metres away so I had to trust in the anchor and science.

Monday 17th
Up at 5:15 for a 5:30 departure, a last minute call to Kathy, but she’s out so up comes the anchor and were off, it’s 185 nm which at 5 knots average speed will take me 37 hours , or 24+13, which means now +13 hours tomorrow, or 18:30 arrival. The light is good until around 20:00, so we have a little bit of time to play with. I motor out into the open sea, and a bit of wind has started, I get the mainsail up and as we clear the land the wind picks up. I unroll the heasail and we are soon racing along at 6 knots. what a great start.

The wind is on the beam (Side on) which is the best for speed, but in a big open sea like this, that also means you can have big rollers hitting the side of the boat, which we have, so we are rolling a lot as well. This time the monkey has been tamed, and that’s not a euphemism, it’s just everything is stowed properly now. As the hours pas I’m pleased to be not using any fuel, if it carries on like this I won’t need anymore before Mazatlan. sadly as the sun sets, the wind goes and the engine comes on and stays on until I’m almost at Topo. Except that after about twenty minutes of running the engine I notice the oil pressure and engine temperature are not normal. You see the temp needle intersects the P of Penta on the display just before the stem meets the round bit of the letter, it’s been like that for 5 years now. and the oil pressure is bang on the vertical number, 60 maybe?, anyway the temp is now just slightly lower, maybe 2% and the oil pressure is just slightly lower. I ponder what on earth this could mean. The engine is working and sounding just fine, the readings are only slightly out, but why are they out at all. I don’t like mysteries. So I stop the engine, I want to be on top of things before it gets dark.

I take the engine covers off and check the oil level, it’s a little low, but still within the normal range. I examine the engine for leaks, nothing found, so I top up the oil, start the engine and examine for leaks with it running flat out. Nothing, covers back on, and back in the cockpit the dials are back to where they belong. I don’t understand what that was all about, but watch this space, I’m sure all will be revealed at some point soon. Losing the engine is not likely to be a big safety issue, I have sails, it’s more of a costly thing that can take a long time to solve. Generally they seem to get old and smokey and inefficient, or just stop dead in their tracks. The latter seems to just happen sometimes, people talk about piston failures, con rods breaking etc. How or why they break is beyond me, and how to prevent it seems a mystery. For now I will keep changing the oil and hoping for the best.
The motor runs great for the next 24 hours, devouring half my tank of fuel. I sleep for 30 minutes then the alarm wakes me up. I check the engine gauges, the course, the AIS display and once my eyes are adjusted to the dark I have a good look around. Then the alarm is set for 30 minutes, and I go back to sleep. There’s sod all out here and I see no traffic at all. I do however gaze at the amazing stars out, and the water is very luminescent tonight with the prop making a silver trail in our wake.
Tuesday 5:00 AM
I watch the sun rise, have a few more 30 minute naps then I get up around 8 and start the day. Checking around I see I’m just sailing into a small fleet of fishing boats, crikey, where did they spring from,

I quickly grab the binoculars to work out how they are fishing. I’m worried there might be nets stretched out that I need to steer around. I soon spot the fishermans arms flying in rapid jerking movements, that tells me they are hand line fishing, and they attract the fish to their bait/hook with rapid movements by jerking the line. I have watched tuna being caught this way, but I don’t know what they are after. We are in 75 metres of water here. I’m quite a long way offshore, so it’s a little boring, I can’t see much of the land, but I do see some amazing groups of jellyfish, in strings maybe 6 abreast, with glowing fluorescent centres, a little ‘finding nemo’ ish.
I see a group of sea lions lying down, in a circle, with their fins sticking up, it looks most odd, and later I see a great display of jumping mobula rays. About 3 hours before I should arrive the wind pickups and I kill the engine and get the headsail back out. The wind is behind and it takes a while to get the sails to set, especially given how much we are rolling. The speed drops to to an average of 3 knots, putting my arrival time into the dark, but I’m so happy to have the engine off I don’t care.

As the day is reaching its end I can see my destination. Topolobampo is a port some way inshore, from the channel entrance marker buoy to the docks is about 8 miles, and for a few miles from the land it’s all just a few feet deep. A long channel leads in, dredged to 20 metres, but stray just a bit to the side of the channel and your doomed.

As I come level with the chanel I haul in the headsail and start the engine. I’m able to reach down the channel, but the engine helps push us along. I’m a little startled when I see huge breaking waves maybe ten feet high just a few boat lengths to starboard, it was probably more, just felt that close. It could be very dangerous here in bad weather. I had checked the tides and we are near high water so that’s good.
I can’t make the town in daylight, and hadn’t planned to anyway, halfway up the channel I hang a left into a lagoon area and drop the hook. As I turn into the lagoon I spot something in the water, at first I think it’s a big buoy, but as I get closer my heart sinks, it’s the bow of a big boat, and it’s almost vertical in the water.

You can see the bow/anchor roller on the right, someone has stuck a light on a stick in it. Going left is the stem, then it turns down to the keel. As I write this I remember hearing of a shrimper that sank here just a week ago, after a near miss with the ferry, that must be it, it was right next to the ferry route. It also explains why it is vertical, and not on the charts. How very sad. News Article

The light is going fast now, but I’m aware I’m in a very beautiful place, and the wildlife is making itself known. There must be thousands of birds here. Plus no shortage of smaller flying creatures that seem happy to have a new visitor arrive for dinner, that is to be their dinner.

All in all nothing exciting on this voyage, just some good sailing, and I’m happy that I can do a 40 hour passage solo without any problems.
I will soon head into Topolobampo properly and get some provisions, I think I have another good window to head south for the final mainland leg of this trip on Sunday, so I should be in Mazatlan Monday evening, or maybe Tuesday morning

Paul Collister