Feliz Ano Nuevo

From: Bob Galvan (kasplash@crl.com-DeleteThis)
Date: Tue Jan 07 1997 - 17:17:34 PST


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Date: Tue, 7 Jan 1997 17:17:34 -0800 (PST)
From: Bob Galvan <kasplash@crl.com-DeleteThis>
To: Wind Talkers <wind_talk@opus.hpl.hp.com-DeleteThis>
Cc: Patrick Hamilton <mycochef@aol.com-DeleteThis>, Hoover Chan <hchan@well.com-DeleteThis>, Clay Feeter <WTRACKSHQ@aol.com-DeleteThis>, Brian White <abksport@ix.netcom.com-DeleteThis>, "Galvan, Daniel CDT " <x01397@exmail.usma.army.mil-DeleteThis>, Lisa Bauer <recycqueen@aol.com-DeleteThis>, Turk Murguz <TMurguz@aol.com-DeleteThis>, Tony Dominski <twavo@aol.com-DeleteThis>, Stan Moravia <moravia@sprynet.com-DeleteThis>, "Tom M. Kroeger" <tmk@cse.ucsc.edu-DeleteThis>, T LLoyd <boardsports@unspoken.com-DeleteThis>, jmiller@advancedsurf.com-DeleteThis
Subject: Feliz Ano Nuevo
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                            Return to La Gringa
                               Winter 1996-97

We loaded the RV in the rain on the day after christmas. It seems like it
always rains when I'm loading up for a Baja trip. This time I'm taking my
wife Chris and daughter Marina (almost 13) to Bahia de Los Angeles, where
we will meet Tony and his wife Ahna in their identical rental RV. We
hit the road at 7pm in serious wind and rain, which gradually eases up as
we advance south. With a few stops for rest, food, and fuel, 30 hours
later we shut it down at 1am on Punta La Gringa.

Dawn is clear and calm. I climb a small promontory to check the camps
lining the bayshore for our friends and come eye-to-eye with a sea eagle.
A very good omen, I believe. I spy the Polish flag on an RV so we mosey
on ever there. Tony and Ahna had left San Francisco the Sunday before
Christmas and explored Punta Baja on their way down. They had just pulled
into LABay the previous night too. Good thing, because I had my heart set
on a different camp site.

We all moved over to the gravel bar that divides the Bay from the Canal de
los Ballenas on the Gulf. So we now have the protected flat water on one
side and the more open bumpnjump site on the other. Knockout views of
mountains, huge islands, water, and shoreline assault our senses in every
direction. The gravel makes it a very clean camp - no sand, dirt, dust, or
flies, and no close neighbors either!

So we unload and set up camp for few hours, then eat. Soon the sun is
getting low and it's fishin' time. Tony twiddles with rod and reel, but I
have a better way. I take my wetsuit, mask, and speargun down to the rocky
point and spend 20 minutes in the water. 3 shots = 3 fish = fish tacos for
dinner!

Then the lightshow begins. First a pink and orange sunset splashes all
over the mountains and the high thin clouds, then crystal clear stargazing,
and finally a big yellow moonrise over Isla Coronado. Then a spectacular
dawn that has us all up before the sun taking pictures...

by now it's
Sunday, December 29, 1996

We've had breakfast + coffee by 8:30, and El Norte starts to show. By 10am
I'm sailing on my 6.2 Naish Alana and a Bic Veloce 298 that I borrowed for
this trip. It's marginal for a while, but by noon the wind is solid and
I've switched to my main board, the 8'8" ASD Enduro. Tony is now out on
his thick, flatbottomed 9'0 Petit and a 5.9 Waddell Turbo Slalom. He
smokes me with that board. We play in the building swells, testing the
waters, looking for a jump. We land on Isla Coronado (2 miles away?) and
explore (on foot) an estuary that cuts through to the other side. We
return and set up the wives to sail the bay.

The flat water is like butter to sail on. So easy, so fun. The wind is
warm and steady. Chris and Ahna get dialed in and have a great time. 3
dolphins cruise through, not 20' from shore. Campo San Diego is out in
full force. My wife is so happy she cooks! After dinner we watch the
video that we've shot so far.

Monday, December 30, 1996

Another "must shoot" sunrise... Today is clam day. A short walk from camp
is a huge area of wet gravel just loaded with little butter clams. You
just dig down 3-4" inches with your hand and there they are. The shells
are beautiful with their patterns of black, white, and brown, each one
different. It's a very pleasant, meditative activity that's hard to stop.
We fill half of a 5 gallon bucket before Tony and I hike over the hill to
dive for his snagged fishing lure. We didn't find it, but saw so many
fish that I got all hot to go spearfishing again. So I did. Fish tacos
otre vez!

Before the evening meat hunt we had more intermediate sailing lessons in
the bay. In the dying wind Chris declared that she needed more sail than
the 4.7 she had rigged. I offered the 6.2, Tony said "No way, she'll hate
it". Chris took that as a personal challenge, and snapped it on the
Veloce. She was soon planing over to Campo San Diego and back!

Tuesday, December 31, 1996

Today we plan a town run for the perennial Baja shopping list:
Water, fuel, tortillas, + beer, so we use up the last of our fresh water
taking RV showers. A little digging and some strips of carpet get us on
our way - I let Marina drive. She's loving it but the washboard road is
really torture. First stop is water at the desal plant - 15 pesos to fill,
any amount. Next, search for fuel. The Pemex is a joke, you gotta get it
from one of several entreprenuers who truck it in from Guerrero Negro in
barrilles and charge you double the Pemex price. It's roughly $1.25/gallon
at Pemex right now. Then tortillas, t-shirts, and juice. We visit the
museum too. Finally the ultimate RV chore: dump the holding tank - you
don't want to hear about it... Marina drives back but the novelty is
wearing thin. I'm burnt out.

When we return to camp and settle back in, I suddenly feel really bad. I
hurt all over, my stomach is rumbling and I "don't really have my shit
together". I retire to the aft bed to digest some asprin and read "Into a
Desert Place", about a guy who WALKED Baja's entire coastline. The rest of
the campers spend a quite afternoon too. I improve by evening but skip
dinner. We have the Dominskis over to watch Marina's latest video shots,
and call it an early, quiet New Year's Eve. We're saving our strength to
sail tommorrow.

Wednesday, January 1, 1997

Another glorious dawn, but we sleep in this time. I'm powering through
this Baja book, just what I need to recover. By 10:30 El Norte is back and
Chris wants to sail. She rigs the 5.3 "for later" and takes out the 6.2
again. Go Mom! After a few runs and some strap adjustments, she really
relaxes, extends the arms, hangs in the harness, gets in the straps and
blazes across the bay. She even waterstarts this "huge" sail a couple
times. We're talking breakthrough here... by 1 she's exhausted but has to
go for more. You know the feeling!

Meanwhile, Tony and Ahna are slogging and squabbling, Marina's skipping
stones and I'm taking moving pictures of it all. I get to sail too, and
shoot some nice pictures with the waterproof disposable camera. You can't
miss with the scenery here. I'm really favoring "through the sail" shots
right now, they really convey a sense of action.

Evening brings a campfire, stars, and new set of neighbors. It was very
good day, while back home a major storm was flooding and busting up the
whole state.

Thursday, January 2, 1997

Today we leisurely break camp, hoping to sail, planning to roll in the
late afternoon. By noon it looks very not windy, so Tony and I go diving
on the north point. Things start off well as we immediately encounter two
naked girls sunning themselves amongst the rocks. Then photos, fish,
shells, and a big pismo clam that I crack and devour right where I find it.
Walking back to camp, I see the sea eagle again on his cliff top perch. It
must be time to go.

After the final fish taco lunch, we bid Adios to the Bay of Angels.
Marina gets to drive on the pavement until sunset. We spend the night in
the mountains a bit south of El Rosario, and do a side loop out to Ejido
Erindira in the drizzly fog on Friday. The coast there looks much like
northern Calfornia with a powerfull storm swell running. Afternoon finds
us back at the beloved Hotel Palomar chowing down crab tacos and
margaritas. We're home Saturday morning by 10:30am to watch the Niners
come apart in the mud of Green Bay.

The family is stoked - they want to do it again!

Bob Galvan
kasplash@crl.com-DeleteThis



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