Boating in
the rain is not most people’s idea of fun, although folks who live in temperate
climates are typically well prepared and accustomed to inclement weather. In
this coastal Sonoran Desert region, rain is uncommon, especially in winter. Most
of Baja California Sur’s annual rainfall comes in the form of summer and fall
convective thunderstorms and the occasional hurricane. Winter rainfall is infrequent,
generally arriving as a Pacific frontal system that extends its reach down the Baja
peninsula.
On 27
February, we motored south from Isla Carmen to Isla Danzante under rare
overcast skies. A red sunrise betokened stormy weather (see inset below). There
were few or no birds on the water. Low clouds draped the steep Sierra La Giganta
on the Baja California Sur mainland, and a light rain began to fall. We felt as
if we had been suddenly transported back to New England, where Cilantro came from, and we put on our
little-used foul weather gear. The radar overlay showed a few rain areas (in red) in the area, including a strangely persistent blob right on top of Cilantro (like the dust cloud that follows Pigpen around in the Peanuts comic strip).
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| Curtis on a New England–like morning in BCS. He's actually happier than he looks. |
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| Low clouds draped over the Sierra La Giganta on the BCS mainland. |
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| Rain! A rare occurrence in BCS. |
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| Radar overlay showing nearby rain in red. OK, it's not much! |
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| Why is that "rain blob" following us around? |
We anchored in Honeymoon Cove on Isla Danzante, where we've been before and where it continued to drizzle all day and into the night. We went ashore for a hike, and Sue watched the desert plants soaking up droplets to store through the next dry spell. She also spotted a wet tarantula on walkabout. Curtis welcomed the freshwater rinse on our dodger and decks. (He loves free stuff.)
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| View of Isla Carmen from a ridgetop on Isla Danzante. |
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| Tarantula on walkabout in the rain on Isla Danzante. |
In fact, we very much enjoyed the unusual weather. Things could be much worse! As we were preparing to depart from Caleta San Juanico on 26 February, a nearby sailboat had also weighed anchor to leave. Unfortunately for them, they motored directly onto a reef. In the photo below, the reef appears as slightly darker water to the right of the perched keel and also a bit to the left. The tide was falling, so it likely took half a day or more before they could float off or at least "kedge off" by setting an anchor in a strategic direction and essentially winching the boat into deeper water. Worst case scenario (Sue’s specialty!), a full moon was only 2 days away, bringing with it an extra high tide.
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| Sailboat aground on a falling tide in Caleta San Juanico; the darker blue water to the right of the keel indicates the rocky reef. |
RED SKY AT NIGHT
The oft-repeated phrase, “Red sky at night, sailors’ delight; red sky at morning, sailors take warning,” appears in the Bible and Shakespeare, but it has its roots in science. In the mid- to upper latitudes, the prevailing winds blow from west to east. If the western sky is colorful at sunset, this suggests the sun (even farther west) is setting under clear skies, and the prevailing west winds will soon take away the remaining clouds. By contrast, if the eastern sky is colorful at sunrise, the prevailing west winds will probably fill the sky with more clouds and block out the sun.
Like a red morn that ever yet betokened,
Wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field,
Sorrow to the shepherds, woe unto the birds,
Gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds.
—William Shakespeare, Venus and Adonis
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| Red sky at morning in Puerto Ballandra, Isla Carmen, BCS. |
