Kayaking in Sea of Cortez: Hungry in Punta Trinidad Day 25

The wind at my camp at Punta Trinidad on the Sea of Cortez finally let up at about 11 PM but then it started again at about three in the morning. I didn’t get a chance to eat dinner last night and needed to eat breakfast, but there was a lull in the wand at about 5 AM. I thought this might be my only chance today to get around Punta Trinidad to a more sheltered area, so I quickly packed my gear and I was in the water at about 5:40.  The wind was building as I went around Punta Trinidad and into the wind shadow behind the point. The wind was still very strong as I came to the other side of the point so I stayed very close to shore, occasionally hitting the bottom of the kayak on rocks.  After getting around the point, I landed on the first sandy beach hoping to be able to cook a meal and eat something.  But it was too cold and windy and there was no protection in the wide-open plain that formed the backcountry here.  I continued to the far end of this beach where I finally stopped.  There was not much more protection, but I was weak and hungry and needed to stop and eat.  I pitched the tent, which was quite difficult because the poles were being bowed by the wind as I tried to put it up.  I had canned corn and Spam.  This was the first food I was able to have since the candy bar that I eaten at noon yesterday.  The kayak was full of sand and would take some cleaning before I would be able to get it all out.

I pushed on all day, and did about 20 straight-line miles, trying to get as far away from Punta Trinidad as possible. I landed about 3 miles from Punta Baja. 

Most of the coast in this area was unremarkable, a low coastline with few features.  There was another clump of palms at Punta Santa Ana, which has a small fish camp.  South of this area are some big cliffs.  I landed on a very rocky beach, too tired to go further.  I think I have about two days left, about 25 miles by my reckoning.  That would put me in Santa Rosalia on Sunday night.

I’ve been contemplating the various scenarios on how I would get back to my car which was about 340 miles north as the crow flies, but much farther on the route that I had to go. From Santa Rosalia I would have to cross the peninsula to Guerro Negro, then up to Ensenada, cross the peninsula again over to San Felipe (666 miles), then, after picking up my car, re-trace my route back down to Santa Rosalia (another 666 miles) where I could pick up my kayak. After picking up my kayak, it would be another 669 miles to get home, for a total of 2001 miles! I knew there was an evening bus that goes from Santa Rosalia to Ensenada where I could transfer to a bus to San Felipe. Catching the evening bus from Santa Rosalia could be a problem for me to catch if I didn’t get to Santa Rosalia early in the day.

I was also getting these uneasy feelings of ending the trip and going back to normal responsibilities, interactions, etc. I didn’t really like the thought of going back to work, home, etc., too complicated.  

I finally saw a Baja style feeding frenzy along the beach here when I landed.  There were large schools of anchovies that were 2-3 inches long that were being fed upon by large numbers of birds from above and from fish below.  The anchovies were pushed right up against the shore and the water was just exploding with anchovies as the larger fish drove them out of the water.  I stood on the rocky shore and right by my feet there was this massive feeding frenzy going on.  There were large grouper-like fish and some that look like barracuda attacking the schools of anchovies.  Farther offshore, the pelicans were diving in great numbers.

Although the tides down south of here were hardly worth talking about, I was concerned each night about being high enough above the tide. I think I have overestimated the last few days and pulled my kayak up too high.  I’ve given up referring to the tide tables that I had, which were only accurate farther north.

That’s weird. I just got this thought that I needed to take my wife, Ann, to a baseball game when I get back home.  I’m not really a baseball fan until the end of playoffs, but it just seems like a neat thing to do on a summer day.  I don’t know why, but right out of the blue it’s just something that I want/need to do.

There were long lines of pelicans heading south for the night.  All my life it seems that whenever I see pelicans, I think that there is nothing quite as beautiful as a flight of pelicans.  Along this section of the Sea of Cortez, I’ve seen up to about sixty pelicans in one line. Truly majestic.

Before drifting off to sleep at my camp near Punta Baja I thought about the trip. The kayak has been good, especially considering the rocky landings and launches that I’ve had.  I often found myself talking to various parts, like the rudder or the paddles, telling them to keep up the good work and that they were doing a good job.  I’ve also had some conversations with other pieces of my equipment. The other day I imagined the tent screaming at me “Don’t put me up in this wind, I’ll collapse under the pressure!”  I’ve used the duct tape to repair a few items: on my dry bag to seal a hole, on my hand to help with my paddling, and on a tent pole that was splitting.  Duct tape is handy for everything. How simple my life on the Sea of Cortez has been!

Next: Day 26 – Destination Within Reach

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