Saturday night, approximately 60 miles North of Cabo San Lucas, back in the Pacific and Northbound.

23 knots showing on the wind gauge, right on the nose.  Double reef in the main, stays’l and yankee doing their job driving us through three to four foot swells.  Charisma is charging forward, rail kissing the water heading right into the setting sun, darkness sneaking up behind us. The stars are filling in, anxious to begin their night’s journey across the sky.

The masthead is cutting wide circles in the sky as we romp over the waves, the mast-light winking at the stars as if to say; “Time to play!”

Harness and lifeline on now because with just two of us, one is sleeping while the other is on deck.  Unlike the trip down, there’s no-one around to hear the lonely sound of the crew slipping over the side.

I’m listening to the anchors hanging from their mounts on the bow creak as we leap up and over the waves, spray flying in the impending darkness and I realize this is not just another random sound in the night.  This is Charisma squealing with joy, reveling in the wind and wave, as she lays her rail down to the nighttime seas.

The red glow of the compass is keeping me company while I’m mesmerized by the quiet transformation of twilight colors to darkness lit by 360 degrees of stars.  Horizon to horizon, North to South, East to West, everywhere I look I am surrounded by pinpoints of light that have traveled thousands of years to be here, right now, at this moment.

A very fine night.

Bittersweet to round Cabo because it means heading back North after so much fun and enjoyment.  Of course, there are all the good things about getting back home to look forward to, but this place is hard to leave.  However, we got a good send off around the Cape, as a dozen or so dolphins came over to say; “bye, bye for now” and a huge tuna jumped a good six feet in the air waving “goodby” less than a hundred yards away.

And, wouldn’t you know it, about four hours later, up the coast we hooked a large fish on our handline (basically a line with a lure on it that you pull in by hand).  I was off watch sleeping when Geoff called; “Fish On!”  I jumped out of my bunk and on deck to help gaff a 55 inch Wahoo and get him on deck.  Probably in the 60++ lb range, it took 1/3 of our bottle of Tequila to subdue him!  (Quite a contrast to a Norte Americano group we overheard at dinner one night who disgusted that they had caught nothing from their 70 foot luxury sport fishing boat, decided they needed to spend a few thousand more dollars on “better” fishing gear-we just smiled and they ignored the two grubby, bearded sailors who obviously knew nothing about how to fish).

After filleting Mr Wahoo, we ended up with 5 one quart freezer bags stuffed with huge fillets.  We’ve already had sushi about an hour after landing this majestic fish (with our evening Charisma of course!), fish sandwiches for lunch and just finished a fantastic ceviche dinner.

We left Puerto San Jose on Friday morning (the 26th) and 46 hours later arrived Bahia Santa Maria.  Quite a contrast to the trip down where there were over a hundred boats here.  Right now, we are the only sailboat anchored in this desolate bay.

We’re planning to visit the fishing villages at the end of the bay tomorrow and bring them some school supplies that we picked up in Cabo for their children.  The folks who live here are very isolated and basically have nothing that we (in California) would consider basic supplies.  They were so good to us on our way down, we’d like to repay the kindness.

A last little note:  Geoff and I have been sitting in the cockpit, anchored in the bay, listening to music (Taj Mahal) and watching the stars.  There have been quite a number of shooting stars and it’s hysterical each time one lights up the sky as we’re reduced to simply pointing and enthusiastically muttering; “ohhhhhhhh!” then laughing hysterically at ourselves and at how simple little things like meteorites are so cool and entertaining down here.  Entertainment is where you find it.