FAREWELL TO “PUDGE”

As much as we wanted to explore Asunción, the forecast for two solid days of strong northwesterly winds offered us the chance to sail all the way to Bahia Santa Maria. We made an early start on Tuesday 14th February, exited Bahia Asunción and made for our distant destination to the southeast. At around 35 hours underway this was to be another overnighter, and with the wind just off the stern at 17 knots we were running under the poled-out genoa. Two hand lines were set off the stern and at 8am we caught our first Bonito, it was too small to keep and released.

Just after 8am on 15th February we made the planned eastward gybe towards Bahia Santa Maria and ran with the swell dead astern, a much more comfortable ride. Enjoying the more stable sail, our spirits were lifted further when we were joined by a massive pod of dolphins; they swam at us from all directions and rode the bow for about 10 minutes before, as is their way, they all took off at once towards whatever goal we’d diverted them from.

By 11am Cabo San Lazaro was in sight. The wind had dropped enough that the genoa began flogging in the swell, and we furled it to motor into Bahia Santa Maria, though not before we noticed some sun worn stitches failing along the foot of the sail – a repair we’d need to make before our next big passage. We caught and released one last small Bonito just before entering the bay, and as we passed the surf line off Punta Hughes we spotted whale spouts ahead. Rounding up towards our planned anchorage we had to dodge two Gray Whales playing: spy hopping, slapping tails and waving their fins. It was an amazing welcome! We dropped anchor at 2:35pm as the only boat in the entire bay, tidied up and toasted our latest whale encounter, topping off a successful 34-hour passage.

We spent the next few days exploring the shoreline near the boat, watching whales out in the harbor, and visited the fishing camp at the head of the estuary from which we’d watch the pangas emerge each morning, returning at sunset. The camp was very basic, a few cabins around a community hall on the bluff, overlooking fish processing huts along the waterline where we were saddened to see a table loaded with drying shark fins. The locals were very friendly, and we were able to buy lobsters off the boat a couple of times from passing pangas. We supplemented these with a rockfish speared among the rocks along the shoreline, so enjoyed tasty meals to accompany some spectacular sunsets.

On our penultimate day in Santa Maria, Andy got up and made coffee, and while doing the usual morning round of the boat with coffee in hand, noticed our dinghy “Pudge” was missing. He called Shan up and we discovered that both lines tethering Pudge to Tino Pai had been cut (we tie two secure lines with bowlines in case one fails). It was immediately clear that the dinghy had been stolen during the night while we slept. We were devastated as we’d discussed this possibility, but feeling safe in the remoteness of Santa Maria and believing that the bright yellow Portland Pudgy was less of a target proved to be a big mistake; we later heard that dinghy thefts from passing yachts are common here. It was a huge blow to lose Pudge, she was both our tender and lifeboat, and our main means of access to shore.

We flagged down a passing fisherman, who was kind enough to take us ashore to the fishing camp where we explained the situation and were told that outsiders had been coming into Santa Maria (likely from San Lucas in Bahia Magdalena) during the night to steal the local’s lobster pots. We were given a further panga ride into the mangroves past the camp, but there was no sign of the dinghy anywhere. On the advice of the locals – who dropped us back to Tino Pai – we radioed the port captain in Puerto San Lucas to report the loss, only to be advised that we’d need to report the theft to the local police in person. With morale low aboard we decided to wait one more day just in case Pudge was found – we’d offered a reward for its return, no questions asked – but sadly there was no news of her. We hoped we might have better luck at Puerto San Carlos, and on the morning of 21st February, with mixed feelings, we weighed anchor for the day trip to Bahia Magdalena. Despite the loss of Pudge weighing on our minds, we’d looked forward to “Mag Bay” for a long time and were determined to enjoy the day; we looked forward to seeing this famous whale breeding ground at last.