The invitation came from Martin Eggenberger, I’ve sailed with my friend on the Bay for many years now and he asked if I could come to La Paz and help bring his Hylas 46 back up to Ensenada. All of the boats that have spent their winter in Mexico must come to terms with the approach of hurricane season. Many return north.
An Oxnard sailor buddy forewarned that maybe this bringing a boat north against all manner of waves and wind might not be in my best interest. This the advice of a man who has tangled with this passage north more than a handful of times.
Facing the demon of volunteering to be crew on a 900-mile slog north, to earn my stripes as a veteran of the famed Baja Bash, not for bragging rights but to take measure of the skills I’ve honed in the five decades I’ve sailed suckered this sailor into giving my skipper a yes, by golly I’ll throw my lot in and give it my best.
The question I have asked myself in the years I’ve been sailing is whether I had what it takes to survive a bash? Could I bring a boat north? Could I survive the pounding? Would it be an unbearable beating and end what happiness I had found in my privileged sailing life here to the north.
There are only a couple of things you need consider when making this decision, first is whether the boat you’ll move is up to the task, is it well fitted out, has your skipper’s passion for maintenance outweighed his slothful nature, is the boat capable of taking the beating you are about to give the thing? Second are you constitutionally sound of body and mind? And most important are you mentally up to the ordeal you are about to put yourself through, do you have the grim grit and gallows humor necessary to withstand the bashing north? Well, we don’t know now do we, not until we give it a go—
A couple of technical aspects to the challenge. You’ll need a good motor, fuel and a sail plan for where you’ll refuel, in our case it was Bahia Ascension. Next, you’ll want the best weather window you can find, and it helps if you can keep updating your weather reports throughout the trip north. To that end the Hylas is fitted out with Starlink giving access to the latest and greatest information twenty-four-seven. That piece of equipment is worth its weight in Tecate, mescal and your finest bikini briefs.
Using an application called PredictWind was first on our viewing list. To confirm what information we received we’d jump over to the National Weather Service. I keep Navionics on both phone and iPad. I made it a habit to look over each leg of our trip for emergency anchorages we could fall back on if need be. There is no doubt in my mind that these technologies have tipped the advantage of making a safe bash north to the advantage of the boat and crew. My recommendation is do not leave port without some combination of these terrific tools.
I’m going to get a little geeky here for just a moment. The Hylas is fitted out with running backs, removable forestay rigged to accommodate a staysail, and and in mast furling main. Most of the passage was undertaken with a partial main and this small inboard rigged staysail. Yes, there was a genoa rigged ahead of the staysail. We unfurled the sail plenty along the way, but in total a mere fraction of the total. In the 130 hours we spent bashing north we encountered some 10 to 15 hours of what I would call crap sea state. Figure on spending most of the rest in conditions you wouldn’t wish on your mother-in-law, and perhaps a fraction of all your time at sea in the thrall of unrivaled mirror-pond like dream state. Our highest winds encountered while underway built to about 25 knots, most of the passage was completed in the adolescent pressure numbered in the teens. On one leg we sailed on one tack for ten hours in light wind without motoring while our boat moved at her optimal speed. The biggest swells came at the end and measured 11 feet at about 8 seconds, most days we saw swells to six feet or less. I’m not easily motion sick, can be, have been, was queasy here and there along the way, but never gave up my lunch. I think of seasickness as a completely rational response when a sailor finds they are in wretched conditions. We merely flirted with this misery. A straight line may make sense where it is my humble opinion that quartering the seas will serve your boat and crew best. This is just a my best advice and guess but severe pounding is tough on shrouds and stays. The famous Pottery Barn rule applies here— you break it, and the Baja Bash will ask you to pay, and pay a high price you will—
This was a two-man delivery, a third would have made overnight watches a little shorter, and if the third is equal to the task their supporting the skipper while he makes the final decisions on what strategy and tactics to use is a benefit. Good well thought through decisions will save much misery and miscalculation.
If you have a boat you know and trust, all the variety of weather and navigation tools and know how to use them, then the only thing you need to know— as Dirty Harry long ago once asked— “You’ve got to ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky?’ Well, do you, punk?”
