SO MANY FISH - TOO MANY TO EAT

We are stuck at Punta Cobre! Not as literally as last week when we hit the reef here but we like this place so much we can't find a reason to leave. I would be hard pressed to design a more idyllic anchorage. The only boats we've seen during the last week are those on the horizon headed north to the more popular El Gato and Agua Verde anchorages.

The white sand beach goes on forever, the Sierra Giganta Mountains provide an everchanging backdrop to the west, the weather is perfect, and the sealife is overly abundant. The seabreeze keeps the air in the low 90s during the day and the low 70s at night. The water temperature is still in the low 70s so it helps moderate the heat from the very intense sunshine. The sky seldom contains a cloud; it has now been five months since we saw a drop of rain.

We have found a couple of arroyos on shore that lead up into the foothills of the mountains. The desert plant life is fascinating. There are literally forests of Cardon catci which reach heights up 75'. They bear fruit that look like fuzzy pineapple.

There are jackrabbits and quail to watch and beef cattle to wonder about. This area is a severe desert, receiving only about 4 inches a year of rain. It is hard to understand what the cattle eat in such an inhospitable environment. A local fisherman says there is a watering station about 4 kilos up the arroyo.

Arlene is convinced that we can butcher one of the cows but I am not quite sure how we are going to bring down a 700 pound range cow with big horns that is used to fending for itself in the desert. She also wants to try to set traps for the rabbits and to net the quail. I had no idea this cruise was going to turn into a big game safari.

We are now fishing at sunset almost every night and catching our dinner with ease. Two nights ago we caught three yellow snappers, (Pargo Amarillo in Spanish and Lutjanus argentiventris in Latin), and a Mexican Barraccuda in 20 minutes. Last night it was six Leopard Groupers (Cabrilla sardinera and Mycteroperca rosacera) and yet another Barracuda in 30 minutes.

All those fish are really fun to catch since they all hit the lure very hard and then really fight the line as we reel them in. The fish are all in the one to three pound range and are from 14" to 20". We throw the smaller ones back when we are catching so many. One of the groupers was a "Golden Grouper." About 1% of Leopard Groupers turns a bright gold color and look just like a giant aquarium goldfish.

Most of the fish are caught while trolling along the rocks and reefs in 10 to 30 feet of water. We use Rapalla lures. The 7 cm brown jointed rapalla is a true fish killer. We catch about one fish every fifteen minutes with that guy.

The Leopard Groupers are named for their spots that make them look like Leopards and for their ferocious behavior toward other fish. They are very aggressive and quick, gobbling up a lot of small fish. Many of the Groupers we catch still have small fish in their mouths when we catch them on the lure. Now that's greedy or hungry - attacking another fish before you can swallow the first fish.

The biggest grouper gave me more than a five-minute fight on our medium-spinning rod. He must have gotten under a rock cause I pulled the dinghy backward about 20 yards while trying to reel it in. After a while I gave up thinking it was a fish cause there was no play in the line, just a solid dead weight. I manuvered the boat to the opposite side of the lure from where we started and pulled straight back to free the lure from the rock. I was surprised when the lure took off for deep water again. When Arlene saw the size of the fish I thought she was going to jump out of the dinghy to subdue it.

We have had no success catching lobster. Actually what we chase around here are Pinto Spiny Lobster (Panulirus inflatus). They have no claws but do have enormous antenna. They can get to be up to 8 pounds and we have seen some moulted shells that were 24" long and five inches wide.

We can now find lots of these critters. I frequently find six or ten of them under a single rock or ledge. The problem is I don't know how to catch them. Actually, the real problem is that it is illegal for non-Mexicans to take any kind of shellfish so all we can do is admire them.

A couple of days ago we found five lobsters, yes 5 - count them - 10 big feelers, all peering out at us from under the same rock. I was wearing heavy mesh gloves with reinforcing fibers so I just reached under the rock and grabbed a lobster. I wasn't in much danger of being pinched because they don't have claws like normal lobsters. I could get a hold of them but I could not pull any of them out from under the rock. Each time I would go back to the surface to get some air, they were about 8' down; a lobster would jet away to another rock. After a couple minutes of this - they were all gone and I was annoyed.

The day before the same thing had happened. I had my hands on a 14" lobster but it got under a rock. I had a firm grip on it but there was no way to pull it free.

Today I participated in another lobster rodeo, actually two of them. I found a rock that had more than a dozen lobsters under and around it. Some of them were over 14" long. I still couldn't figure out how to subdue them. I can grab them but they won't come out of the hole. If I try to poke them with a stick they just disappear back into the hole. When I force them out of their hiding place they take off like little jets and disappear into the grass and weeds that are never more than five feet away.

An old time Sea of Cortez guy warned me on the radio this morning about sticking my hand into holes or caves that contain lobsters. Apparently a lot of those dwellings are shared or sublet to Moray eels with teeth.

The water yesterday was still very cold. After snorkeling for an hour, around 3 PM, I was shaking from the cold. I laid in the dinghy in 88 degree air temp and blazing hot sun, with my shorty 2mm wetsuit on, for 30 minutes and still didn't warm up. I tried to dive again but started shaking as soon as I went back in the water. The water today was a lot warmer and clearer.

It is hard to believe that the water is still so cold here during the first week in July.

Last night at 10:30 PM I was standing on the bow of the boat watching the cars, trains, buses, and trucks motor by on the bottom of the sea, under the boat. At least that is what it looks like. Fish swim by in schools and in single file. When standing on the bow and looking down into the water it is like being in a 10 story building at night and looking down on the surface streets that have a thin layer of fog on them. You can't see the vehicles but you can see the headlights as they move along. There are some really BIG, fast, and bright things swimming around the boat at night, either that or they have 55-watt headlights.

We have lots of food, beer, coke, and fish. What we are now lacking is gasoline. We carry two - 2.5 gallon gas cans, two 1 gallon cans, and a 3.5 gallon tank in the dinghy. We had used the entire 3.5 gallon tank and both of the 1 gallon tanks.

Then one of the Panga fisherman came by and pleaded for some gasoline so he could get home. He had a 90HP outboard on a 25' Panga and it was 10 miles home. He said he would pay us back manana. That was last Friday and this afternoon, five days later, he came by to say he would bring us gasoline manana. We are down to just two gallons of gasoline and we use about 1/4 gallon a day trolling so we'll have to figure out something soon.

Last night we experienced interesting local weather phenomena. The wind had blown lightly out of the SSE during the previous six nights we have been here and was out of the SSE last night at sunset. About midnight the wind started coming out of the WSW and slowly increased till it was 20 to 25 with higher gusts by about 4 AM. The temperature in the cabin of the boat went from 78 degees at 10 PM to 88 degrees at 4 AM.

What made it interesting was our stern anchor. Last week we set our 22 pound Danforth off the stern of the boat with a 3:1 scope, i.e. 10 feet of chain and 20' of nylon webbing rode. That anchor was intended to keep Mirador's bow pointed into the ever-present ESE swell.

Last night the wind was coming from the starboard quarter of the boat so the Danforth was resisting almost the entire force of the wind. Even with only 3:1 scope that little anchor never budged an inch. I was impressed with the power of a Danforth that is completely buried in heavy white sand.

We are trying to decide whether we should head out to Isla San Diego, which is about 12 miles SE of us in the Sea of Cortez, or should we head up to El Gato, which is 8 miles north of us. San Diego is a one-mile long island with another mile long reef extending off its SW end. There are no coves or anchorages on it but the NW side of the island offers good protection from the SE wind and swell

El Gato is supposed to be one of the most spectacular anchorages in the South Sea of Cortez but is often quite crowded. I suppose we'll decide in a day or so.

Today is the one-year anniversary of our leaving Tacoma Washington, which was our home for 21 years. I am surprised that I really miss the weather there. I had grown to love the mist, fog, cool damp conditions, and ever changing weather.

I'd like to offer a couple of observations after living on the boat for a year.

- Don't bring all that stuff with you!! About 1/4 of the stuff we thought we needed has not been touched in eight months since we left San Diego. Life on a boat, especially cruising in remote areas like the Sea of Cortez, is very very simple. You eat, sleep, swim, walk, read, fish, and tend the boat. Many of the gadgets we brought have no value in our current life. However, the coffee grinder is still essential.

- A watermaker is a wonderful device that offers us so much freedom. It is a joy to have little concern about water consumption.

- A HAM, or at least a Marine Single Sideband, radio is such a boost to morale and the sense of well being. We are now part of the "family" of several nets. I know it sounds corny, but when you're anchored in a remote spot like Punta Cobre where it may be a week before you see another boat, it is so reassuring to know there are people out there listening for you and caring about you. Additionally, thru the fantastic assistance of stateside HAMs, we can make a telephone call to anyone in the states at almost any time we want. Most often the calls are free. Staying in touch is important.

- Time takes on a whole different characteristic out here. It is so easy to just sit and watch the mountains for an hour or to sit in the dinghy and watch the crabs chase each other. You can take the time to read a book with care, work on a boat project with no sense that it has to get done cause you've got to go home, or just be with your partner since there is little else that is more important.

- You really are out here alone at times and you'd better understand your boat and all its equipment and systems. Your comfort and peace of mind depend on your ability to make things work so you'd better know how they work.

- An anchor that is too big is probably just right. We sleep so much better now that we hang off a 66 pound Spade anchor. When that thing buries in the sand we know Mirador is not going to move and that is a wonderful feeling at 4 AM when it is gusting over 30 knots.

- The first year on a boat requires a tremendous adjustment in the interpersonal relationship of those onboard. This has been the single most difficult aspect of our first year. Things that you could walk away from when living on land must be resolved since there is just no way, especially when living at anchor, to get enough seperation. Arlene and I had been together for 28 years when we moved onto Mirador. We then discovered that a lot of our behavior was quite annoying to the other. This is hard work making adjustments to our relationship.