Buckle up Amigos! You’re in for a wild ride, minus the wind, waves, rain and lightning. But I’ll leave you with the drama. Without further ado, here starts Chubasco 201!
Brad and I had our ideal “cruisers” kind of day. We first went for a morning snorkel with our pals at the nearby sea lion colony. We enjoyed their playful company and were happy to see the males weren’t territorial or aggressive. Later we departed for a spearfishing excursion. Brad managed to spear a 7 pound cabrilla along with a triggerfish for ceviche. He is so good with that gun. 2 shots, 2 fish! Brad filleted both fish and gave half to our neighbor boat (it’s his way of guaranteeing a spearing session the next day). We had delicious BBQ’d fish and salad for dinner. We cleaned up and tuned in to the SSB Chubasco report as we usually do. Despite only being 8pm it was a stretch to stay awake as we were feeling exhausted from our time in the sun and water. The report mentioned some convection but nothing in our area. It would be a quiet night in Baja. Brad and I bid each other a good night and crawled in to our cabins. Yes, cabins. The temperatures here in the Sea of Cortez are stifling and the humidity is high. The only way to get a night of rest and keep general harmony is to split up and sprawl out with multiple fans directed at our bodies.
I was fast asleep in the forward cabin when suddenly I felt a gust of wind come down the hatch. Feeling a bit traumatized from the Chubasco we received a couple nights prior, I shot out of bed yelling “Chubasco!” I ran on deck to 20kts of wind and wrestled our wind scoop down. Lightning was flashing, lighting the sky up in all directions. This was the real deal! Brad was still asleep so I ran to the aft cabin hatch and shouted “Chubasco, wake up now!”. Startled but comprehending, Brad got out of bed and came on deck. We worked together to secure all remaining loose items and started the motor. The wind was increasing in to the 30’s and the sea state was picking up. Feeling satisfied with our work we hunkered down in the cockpit and watched our boat position on the chartplotter.
The boat was holding position as the winds increased in to the 40’s. Brad went to the stern to check on the dinghy which we had bobbing behind the boat. He decided to pull it closer to the stern to protect it from the larger swells. While he was back there he witnessed Sydney’s beloved shore car flip over, tossing all loose contents into the ocean. The good news is that we could see the motor was still attached along with the gas can. There was nothing we could do about it at that moment so we went back to the cockpit to check on our position. The intensity of the storm increased as the winds howled to the 50’s with a high gust of 64kts (73mph). The anchor was holding.
I kept thinking to myself how much worse is this going to get? Kind of similar to the thoughts I had during earthquakes while living in California. As a child growing up in the Pacific Northwest the schools were constantly doing earthquake drills in case “the big one” finally reared it’s ugly head. Around this time I resorted to staring at the cockpit floor. Why? Because everywhere I looked was downright scary. Seeing the high numbers on the instruments was scary. Seeing the waves pass the boat was scary. Watching our solar panels was scary as I could visualize them ripping off at any moment. Knowing that one of the other boats in the anchorage was dragging towards another boat was scary. The floor was quite boring indeed and it helped calm me down. In retrospect I could have stared at Brad’s face as he was quite calm and stoic through it all. His mind was already in problem solving mode.
Pretty soon we started to hear louder booms of thunder and decided it was a good time to hide down below. Inside the noise was much quieter which helped me relax even further. Sitting at the table near the mast I could feel noticeable vibration from the rigging. I could see water dripping on our chart table from an unidentified leak. I could see Sydney glaring at me as she did not understand why she could not go outside. We could hear the water in our tanks sloshing and churning. Bottles in cabinets were banging and glasses clinking as the boat jostled in the wind and waves. Then we heard a new sound. We looked outside to find our bimini flapping in the wind as its old stitching could no longer hold up to the high winds. The stainless that once held the bimini up had collapsed in defeat. Again, there was nothing we could do and if we did, there was a possibility of injury from the flapping material. We waited for things to calm down before going back out for further inspections.
After an hour and a half of feeling as if we were in a nonstop earthquake/tornado, things started to mellow out. When the wind was blowing in the 30’s it felt calm. It’s amazing how the mind adjusts as wind in the 30’s is typically quite a bit for us. The wind mellowed even further and we took the opportunity to flip our dinghy right side up. Brad volunteered to crawl on top of the dinghy to secure a line to be used for the flipping. We pulled the dinghy along side the boat and tried to muscle it up to flip it over but that did not work. Brad the problem solver came up with a better idea. We attached our main halyard and used the winch. While I ground the winch Brad guided the dinghy and flipped it over. With the dinghy right side up we could finally think about going back to bed.
While my feelings and story may be dramatic…I think it is important to mention that we were in no real danger when all of this was happening. It was purely uncomfortable. It’s hard to see our home get beat up. At the end of the day things are repairable and replaceable. It really puts it in perspective. I am grateful that we kept our minds clear and made safe decisions so no one got injured. On the bright side we got a free boat wash out of the deal!
The next morning we commiserated with the 5 other boats in the anchorage. We shared stories about what got lost or damaged and a scavenger hunt ensued. Some items were retrieved but our dinghy wheels are still missing in action. Offers for tools and help were communicated across the fleet despite everyone having their own problems to fix. Amongst the fleet there was one broken hatch that came unhinged and flew off, a broken chain plate, 2 flipped dinghies, 2 unhappy dinghy motors from being submerged, 2 torn biminis, 1 bent bimini frame, and Sydney lost her favorite beach stick!!!
Having learned our lesson we vow to remove the motor from the dinghy every night and hoist up the dinghy on the davits- at least during Chubasco season. We will keep our fingers crossed as these Chubasco storms are difficult to predict. At least we now know the majority of our gear can stand up to winds as high as 64kts!
P.S. As an aside and lesson on wind, every time the wind speed doubles, the force of that wind quadruples. So, going from 30 knots of wind to 60 knots of wind is 4x the air pressure pushing on you… 40kts to 60kts is twice the wind force…
Sitting here in my little house doing the laundry on a Sunday. I sit down to read your post and I’m taken to a wild ride and that in the night no less! You are sailing on the perspective and it certainly is giving you just that. Thanks for the thrill I’m happy here on land! Best
Reading both of your messages this morning gave me chills. It was the first time I was concerned for your safety. I’m glad you’ve met so many wonderful friends out there and it’s comforting to know your sailing support system is alive and well and you’re looking out for each other. Stay safe and I will say extra prayers for your safety during Chubasco season. I hope the worst is behind you.