Thanksgiving in Turtle Bay, Baja California Sur, Mexico

We're at anchor just off the shore of a small, dusty town known as Bahia Tortugas. The area used to be known for turtles but, sadly, none remain. There are, however, plenty of pelicans and gulls, and a few osprey, whose nests are visible on the local electronics tower and other high spots along the shore. The terrain is desert-like, reminding us both of Nevada. Hills barren of vegetation (at least from this distance) undulating in variegated shades of beige to brown, ending at the blue water's edge.

Fishing appears to be the town's main economic engine, with a half-dozen or so boats manned with three- to four-fishermen casting nets and pulling in by hand. Last night we watched them haul in and weigh their catches, rock stars to the birds that followed, screaming in their wake.

We arrived at 1:05 p.m. yesterday, thankful to be setting the anchor and having earned our rest. We left Ensenada at 11:00 a.m. on 11/21, expecting good tailwinds; however, we were disappointed. With headwinds from 6 to 16 knots, we motored down the coast, taking three hour watches, regardless of mal de mer, which hit me (Celeste) quite hard. My buddy the bucket was never far away. It was a fairly uneventful trip, otherwise, our spotting only one other vessel along the way and that a sailboat that had left the same marina around the same time as us. They radioed over to check our status when they saw us stop, but we had only run over some kelp and were taking time to back it off the prop. The sailor soon passed us, and it was a lonely trip from then on, though Nereid didn't seem to mind. She handles well, and it's really, I realize, her crew, that we need to worry about. Around 11:00 a.m. on 11/22, we pulled into Bahia San Carlos, a strip sheltered from the winds that make its northernmost point a famous destination for windsurfers. We set our anchor and rested for 24-hours, letting me get my stomach back under control. (The cats have done remarkably well.) At 10:30 a.m. on 11/23 we pulled back out, thankful for NE winds that allowed us to travel along at 6.5 knots with just the mainsail, double reefed. We saved a lot of fuel and didn't take down the main until we set our anchor here in Tortuga, at which point we found that we'd lost a batten. Otherwise, she's shipshape. Not so lucky was the sailor coming in just behind us who reported "a hell of a trip" and was coming in "with no prop, and a broken mainsail - under jib alone." At 1:05 11/23 we set the anchor here in Tortuga, put things aright and got the dinghy over the rail. George had read of a restaurant where we might get showers - hot ones if we're lucky. He pulled us into shore, where a nice little wave swamped over the back of our dinghy, Galatea, and wetted my stern - but what's a little salt water to us now? We hauled her up on the sand, tied her to a stranded tire, and set off in search of the Restaurant Veracruz. An hour later, having trod through the unpaved town with its fine, pale dust, we arrived at the place, looking like Pigpen from the Peanuts comic strips. Luckily, they were open. We managed to get across the idea that we were seeking food and showers, and we got the food - quite good too. We recommend it. The showers must just be a rumor. Luck was with us. We returned to Galatea at the magic hour, able to watch the birds and fishermen in the golden glow, then pull back to Nereid for an evening's rest and half a game of Scrabble. Today, we've cooked turkey and mashed potatoes, baked fresh bread and brownies, and enjoyed them all with cranberry sauce. It's been a lovely Thanksgiving.