We moved on first thing this morning after another peaceful night broken only by a thirty minute gusting of twenty knots or so shortly after dark. I know Baja is notorious for these, usually much stronger, and that they have a name that completely escapes me at the moment. While twenty knots is usually no cause for concern, when we’ve been bobbing around for two days without once tugging at our anchor, we start to wonder if all of our anchor chain is just wrapped right up around the anchor.

Our trip today took us north up around the corner about fifty miles to Puerto Ballandra, a small anchorage just an hour or so away from La Paz where my mom is coming in for a visit in a couple of days. We dropped anchor and quickly got into the water. Ouest enjoyed it, especially floating around in the turtle meant for Lowe. Lowe was pissed at us for dropping him in such cold water. He lasted thirty seconds. And there lies the downside to Baja. Cold water.

Lowe loves this game. We can say, “Get her!” at any time and he starts to kick and squeal. We chase Ouest around the deck and he laughs and laughs the whole time. It must be so frustrating to be a crawler in a walker’s world.

Right along this beach there are a row of tiny restaurants, a string of palapas, and all the free camping you could want. Ali and I spent a few nights there in the VW Bus about three years ago and the entire time the wind blew like mad. Sailing by here today in a calm almost felt like we were closing another loop in our travels.