A Day with the Cephalopods

January 30, 2010

We hiked over to the sand flats and the nearby mangrove estuary and were witnesses to some amazing biological sights. We saw stingrays and blue sand crabs in the tidal mangrove estuary. Then we found that some huge Humboldt squid that had washed ashore or were trapped on the shallow sand flats. Hyo-jung also spotted what I think might be a blue-ringed octopus (though I'm lacking a proper invertebrate key of this region).

The Humbolt squid (Dosidicus gigas) or known locally as Diablo rojo (the red devil) is a very large super predator of the semitropical waters typically ranging from California to South America, but has been seen (by us earlier this year, and others) as far North as the BC coast during warm El-Nino years. Typically only found in deeper waters, these animals have been demonstrated to be particularly aggressive during feeding frenzies and when they occasionally coincide with recreational or commercial divers have resulted in several 'attacks'. Like all cephalopods, these squid have sucking discs on the ventral surface of their (in the case of squids, 10, not 8) tentacles that are used for prey capture and manipulation. However, unlike related species, and in tune with their aggressive nature, these animals have a serious lunate sclerotised structure covered in sharp teeth along the inner surface of each sucker. These are especially well developed on the two longer feeding tentacles. As you can see from the pictures, (will post asap) these structures are not trivial. And the fact that these beasties were about the same size as Hyo's torso, eeesh! I would not want to mess with one, never mind when they are typically found in schools of up to 1200.

The (blue-ringed?) octopus, while not aggressive and stunningly beautiful, is currently recognized as one of the worlds most venomous animals. This pan-tropical animal ranges from here to Australia and is one of the few dangerous venomous creatures that we may encounter while pursuing (hopefully) numerous tide-pooling activities. Of the genus Hapalochlaena, this beastie feeds on small invertebrates and utilizes a venom called tetrodotoxin that is a sodium channel blocker, that causes general muscle paralysis and, in humans, can lead to respiratory failure and suffocation. That's not good! Of course, they are not aggressive and would only attack for defensive purposes, but one wrong step and this adventure is over!

Fantastic.
Note: please believe that with the preceding information that I am in no way attempting to promote any biological sensationalism regarding so called "dangerous animals". With respect to the Squid, these beasties are particularly nasty and due to their increased geographical range which, has also been associated with the affects of global warming, have been speculated to have major current and future impacts on fish crops and other aspects of marine ecosystem stability in their expending range. I was just particularly stoked to be up close and personal in a relatively safe (for me!) environment with a creature that I have read lots about and to admire their size and efficient, if not lethal, feeding adaptations.

The day concluded by me catching 3 Mexican Barracuda (Sphyraena lucasana) while spin casting off the back deck. We did not keep any because we still had some yellowtail left, which, incidentally we have prepared in three different ways now, with the third being as sashimi (aged 1 day and chilled to perfection in our fridge). Turns out, having it as sashimi really brought out the subtle flavor of this fish and was just fantastic.

Barter Skills

January 29, 2010

After a delicious sleep we woke bright and early with the warm sun. Despite the fatigue from disturbed circadian rhythms in the last four nights, I feel refreshed and content. The boat is back into shape within two minutes. A Mexican fisherman on a panga (small fish boat) came alongside IO offering to fetch us fuel and water. After breakfast, Antonio was back with our goodies and aboard for a chat. We conversed about family, weather and any other necessities we might need using our broken but quickly-improving Spanish. The diesel cost us 200 pesos for 20 liters and the water was exchanged for some tradesies. Antonio made off with two shirts for his daughters and some crayons for the village kids. Let the bartering begin. We had expected this was a common occurrence and had come somewhat prepared, but we now have a new list of common items that we could use for trading with the locals. Perhaps we'll try to organize a care package to be sent down of used goodies that we can distribute to the fishing villages.

Man of War anchorage, Magdalena bay

January 28, 2010

Five days at sea: 99 hours, 39 minutes, 461 nautical miles, average speed 4.6 knots, max speed 10.1 knots. The best part: All but one of those hours involved turning on the engine. It's the best sailing we've done on IO so far. There was some routine to the days instead of just suffering and waiting to get somewhere: numerous sail changes, adjusting the windvane, learning weather patterns, navigation, reading, eating, and hoping for a good catch.
Sailing seems to be all about doing nothing for hours or days and then having everything happen all at once. Racing through the relatively narrow, mountain-bordered entrance to Mag Bay, we found the wind blowing about 20 knots on our nose. I could see the numerous spouts of at least a dozen grey whales that would provide moving targets for us to avoid. We were just discussing the plan to drop the drifter and raise the yankee (the sail we use for beating to windward) when I heard a hit on the line we were towing. I could see several gulls diving and jittering behind us and knew that we were dragging something large. I started to grind in the 250 lbs test line on our big Peetz reel that was mounted to the stern railing. Within about four minutes, we had a 30 lbs yellowtail (Seriola lalandei) clubbed in the cockpit, the drifter down and stowed, and the yankee up and pulling hard in the 20 knot headwind, all in a bucking chop that was rolling out of the bay. I mean seriously, I had been dragging a line for five days, and besides the two hits that broke my 80 lbs test line and lost me two hooks three days ago, we have not had even a nibble! But I'm not really complaining. I wish you could taste this; it's far more delicate than the bonito but delicious nonetheless.We spent the last remaining hours of the day tacking back and forth into the headwind when we heard our name being called out over the radio. "IO, IO, IO, this is Ceilydh". What a treat, to be welcomed to the big warm bay by our friends Evan, Diane, and Maia. Not long after the hook was dropped we were chatting over snacks and sharing huge fillets of yellowtail.

Life Raft

January 27, 2010
N26 21.67 W113 54.738

Day 4 at sea. It has been a fine couple of days sailing. Two days ago we had good wind and pushed our haul speed most of the day and well into the night. 121 miles noon-to-noon. Yesterday saw some light air and even calms for a few hours ruining our average speed and our 24-hour mileage count. Thanks to our good speed the night before we still managed over 100 miles.
We saw our first two sea turtles yesterday. Still no fish though!
Yesterday we also had a small incident that reminded us of how precarious our lives aboard IO really are. She really is a life raft.
During a calm spell, we were barely moving and making less than 1 knot. It was really sunny and warm and Hyo stood up and managed to drop her hat overboard. It slowly meandered away from the boat, too fast to grab but seemingly very slowly. I quickly stripped down and dove into the cold but not freezing water and swam the 50 meters to the hat. When I arrived that the hat and turned around I managed to inhale some water and began to cough. At the same time a little breeze just happened to pick up and I could see IO slowly begin to move away. There was no trouble as Hyo was standing right there on deck and abruptly dropped the drifter while is swam back to the boat, which was now about 75-100 meters away. We have always said "if you fall off the boat, you're dead" and held this as our working principle on this voyage. Yesterdays swim reminded us that even at such slow speeds one could never catch up to a sailing boat. Of course it does not help that I am negatively buoyant and without swimming I sink like a rock! I was also abruptly obvious how out of shape I am as I huffed and puffed my way back. We were at a depth of about 3000 feet and while swimming, the image of my ghostly-white naked body sinking to the depths below sent a chill up my spine.
This past leg has also been the first time that we have been able to relax on a passage. We are getting used to our routine aboard IO. The weather has been great and there are no adverse weather warnings for the foreseeable future. The nights have been warm and the waxing moon has accompanied our night shifts with its luminous presence. We have not run the engine in 4 days now. I have not felt the stress associated with sailing when there has been a rush or urgency (weather, timelines, etc.) to reach the next port by a certain date. As we had hoped and predicted, sailing in warmer climates is so nice. I have begun to enjoy the shifts and have even been daydreaming about the longer passages that we may undertake in the future.

Cathy's Birthday Stuck in a Bay

Not sure if the poetry is related to Robbie Burns Day, but here it is.... unedited, uncensored!

Jan 21, 2010

A poem for Cathy on Nordic V who celebrated her birthday while we were stuck in bahia de San Quintin:

Our time here at bahia San Quintin
Too soon for us, we'll not be forgittin'

Pitching and yawing, we're in for a ride
Itching to go, our boats wait to glide

Our ships are attached with anchors and plows
The grinding of chains, in my spine I feel now

Drips of water catch my attention
While tension takes turn with much apprehension

Each in our vessel, we incubate
There's seven of us, counts "Uncle Blake"

If it weren't for your birthday, on this day, oh Cathy,
Alone we'd have sat, miserable and unhappy

From Misty Moonlight came songs of delight
The three lovely girls made memories of pearls

Here in our bay, fond memories did form
To carry us in our way, to the land of the warm.

hyo-jung

Big Fish

January 25, 2010

N28 52.840 W115 36.553
At sea. Yesterday we said good bye to all the gray whales of Bahia de San Quintin. We enjoyed their constant presence but will not miss the stinky fart breath that we experienced with regularity. We have had good wind all night (10-13 kts) and it looks to keep up.
This morning at the end of her shift Hyo found her first squid on deck (Loligo sp.) and when I put the fishing lines in the water my first strike broke the 80 lbs test on the first hit; big fish! The sun is shining and the weather is pleasant and getting warmer. We are back to the sunglasses and sunscreen at 6-am routine.

m

Freezing is Bunk!

Its COLD here! We can see snow on the mountains and have used so many blankets last night and the heater was on. This is bunk. Now we have a good weather window, and are going heading as far south as the wind will allow! We have been getting good weather reports so we should have good wind for the next 3 days. We are planning on going strait for Mag bay.

m

Storm

January 22, 2010
Yesterday we were hit with sustained gale force winds, with even stronger gusting winds, and pelting rain here in the anchorage. During the height of the gale, one of the boats broke or lost its anchor and started drifting towards shore. Luckily, Simon from the Ozzy boat was able to get another anchor to it in time to save it from going on the beach. We spent the day inside hanging on trying to be comfortable. During lulls we had to go out to check the chafing gear on the anchor line or rearranging the backup anchors. I have never worked so hard just so we could stay in one place! The winds diminished to a mere 25 knots in the afternoon until about 10:30 pm when the squally lightning storms started up. When the wind hit from the first one, it had enough strength to lay the boat over 45 degrees. Rockaby baby, slosh around and be afraid...Lightning flashed and thunder roared but barely anything could be heard of the driving wind and pelting rain.
Today the storm is supposed to subside and hopefully our cabin fever along with it.

m

At Anchor in a Real Blow

January 21, 2010 9:35 AM Anchored in Bahia de San Quintin. Rain, heavy at times. Wind: 35 knots gusting to 40 or above. Breaking waves coming over the bow at times. We're pitching and yawing. I just paid out an extra 60 feet of chain, making the total chain length ~220 feet. Depth: 40 feet at high tide. Scope 5.5 of 5/16ths high test on the 35lbs Delta plough anchor. The CQR anchor is at the ready. According to the GPS, we did not move last night but the brunt of the 3rd low is expected tonight. We are anchored in a long narrow channel. When the tide rises, the water floods in a strong (4-5 knot) current heading up the channel. The wind is also coming from the same direction as the flood. When wind and tide are moving in the same direction, it has a noticeably calming effect on the water and life becomes more comfortable. However, when the opposite is occurs, when the tide falls and the ebbing current flows against the wind, a large and choppy sea builds and the boat rides uneasily. So twice a day we get a smooth ride and the other half, errr! Due to this current effect and howling wind, we slept intermittently last night, I want more tonight but that is very doubtful. This wind howling through the rigging has quite an un-nerving effect. It sounds louder than it should be and when IO is temporarily pitched to one side and a sea breaks against her haul, the sound is alarming, especially for the dozing skipper. In the darkness, I found myself awakened several times to a startle followed by a surge of adrenalin. I could hear my heart beat hard as I listen for any telltale noises that may indicate problems. I would usually get up and look at our position on the GPS, then take a line-of-sight on the other boats at anchor to make sure we were in the same relative position, that is, no one's anchor is dragging.

Here is Misty Moonlight, the boat anchored nearest to us, while you can still see it before the blow. This is the bay before the storm. Notice the Grey whale between us and the Trimaran.

Assured that all is well for the time being, I would crawl over the lee-cloth (canvas sheet that holds you in bed) into the bunk for another hour of restless dozing. There are seven boats holed up in here and several have formed a radio net to discuss weather and anchoring issues and to offer general help if needed. The three cheerful girls on Misty Moonlight sang "Happy Birthday" for Kathy on Nordic IV over the VHF radio. Time for the precious popcorn to cheer us up. We all wait.

Physis: the way of the world

January 17, 2010

Today, we felt life.
Underway at dawn, we motored on a calm sea. As always, the race is on, 10 miles to cover before high tide, before the entrance is blocked, before the storm arrives and threatens our precious IO. This coast is unforgiving; there are not many all-weather anchorages. We will need to be tucked away safely as we are about to be faced with a great storm. Approaching us are three successive depressions, each deeper and stronger than the last. We have one day before the first arrives. Turtle bay, which is considered the next safe harbor is over 2 days away, not enough time. The plan, to enter Bahia San Quinten, which should afford adequate shelter provided we can get past the entrance which is blocked by an ever moving shallow sand bar that cannot be charted and only the local fisherman (in shallow draft boats) know the correct channel through.
We arrived at high tide and began the approach. When waves enter shallow water they begin to rise and eventually break in crashing surf. We could see breakers in what looks like normal, deep water that was well over 2 km to sea, far from any beach. These breakers indicated shoaling sandbars that we must ovoid.
As our depth sounder began loose digits rapidly, my blood pressure increased steadily. 15 feet, now 12 feet, 10, 8, 7, 6, 5 feet of water beneath our keel. The old chart indicates there should be a channel, if only we could find it! The clock is ticking, we are currently at high tide and soon it will begin to ebb and if we get caught here, we could lose IO. To make matters worse, there are gray whales everywhere! They surface only meters from the boat, and of course directly in our path, rolling slowly, carelessly waving their fins. We wonder how thick a grey whale could be, and reason that if it can completely disappear under water, then it must be at least be deep enough for the boat, right? Three feet, 2.6, 2.1, 1.8 feet of water under our keel, shit I can't believe this, we are in a bad way here! To make matters worse, a current is beginning to run out of the bay, meaning the ebb has started and we are losing water! I tell Hyo to drop the anchor, I jump in the dingy with the boat hook. It's 10 feet long; the bottom of the keel is 5 feet deep. The water is murky so you cannot see depth. I madly row around, probing for the channel. The current is getting stronger. I pull with all my might on the oars and frantically probe. I paddle directly towards a whale in hopes she knows where the channel is, but it only gets shallower towards it. I back track and try closer to shore. With each probe the handle of the hook is still way too far out of the water. As I approach within several boat lengths of shore the handle plunges under. I take several more test probes and then dash back to IO, up comes the anchor and we slowly skim are way towards shore. 1.8, 1.7, 1.7, . 1.9, 2.1, 2.5, 4, 6, 9-feet. Huge sigh of relief. Stupid whales, what the hell?
With a very comfortable 35 feet of water under us we drop 125' of chain and feel the anchor bite in solid.
After lunch we rowed the dingy to shore and walked 2 km barefoot down the deserted beach to Punta Entrada (entrance point). As the tide receded we found many invertebrates and fish trapped in the tide pools. The highlight, in some exposed sea grass, we found numerous giant sea hares, (seaslugs, Aplysia californica) which were actually about the size of a rabbit! I think they are particularly interesting because much of the neurobiology of learning and memory was demonstrated on this species.
As we rowed back to the boat we were approached by a gray whale. Now I mean a 40-45 foot whale swam within ten feet of us while we bobbed around in our 9-foot dingy! Unbelievable!
We ate super and have spent the evening listening to the whales, at least 3, swim around spouting within meters of our 30-foot IO.

Again, today we lived.

P.S. the sunset was beautiful and the toilet is working just fine.
P.P.S I was just out on deck taking a leak under the starry sky, and a whale spouted so close that I felt the spray! It scared the crap out me and consequently I think I got a few drops on deck. I'm actually quite worried that one might hit the anchor chain, which would suck for all kinds of reasons.

m