‘No Reservations,’ Mexico or Bus(t) — and a Pair of Fluffy Kittens
I was faced with two unavoidable and coexisting truths as I prepared for the Baja Ha-Ha Cruisers Rally to Cabo: 1) I could not get off work in time to make the start, and 2) I would not miss the trip altogether. Thus began the journey of becoming the first known gringa — at least in the history of the Ha-Ha — to reach Bahia Tortugas overland.
I had met my captain, Matt Crews, about four months prior, at the raft-up party for the Commodore’s Cup (an epic story for another issue), and I said yes immediately when he invited me to join the Ha-Ha. From the get-go it was a relationship built on mutual trust. I trusted him to do 100% of the preparation; he trusted me to show up with the expertise I claimed to have, and to be a good cohabitor in his floating home. All I had to do was get to the boat in one of the most remote areas in all of Baja.
From the start I never doubted my ability to get there. It was one of those plans that just seem logical when you’re in your 20s. Everyone else met me with serious doubt. The people at Downwind Marine let me advertise for a ride, but in no way misled me to believe they thought it was realistic. Assistant Poobah Patsy Verhoeven told me plainly that she would never do it herself, but nonetheless forwarded me a contact number in Turtle Bay.
Getting in touch with Maria changed everything. She told me of a local bus that ran from Tijuana down the length of Baja California that would take me as far as Vizcaíno, a mere 100 miles from my final destination. I had little to no trepidation.
Even with Maria, the story would not have unfolded quite the same way without Audrey Fulk: highly skilled offshore sailor and my best friend. I had already nominated her to Matt, but we didn’t know if she would be back from her race across the South China Sea (another epic story for another issue) in time to make the start. Like me, she would arrive late. In the meantime, Matt had secured a backup plan in the form of Ocean Beach local Danny North (and two kittens, Daisy and Delilah). Thus the crew of No Reservations was set for the remainder of the rally. Audrey and I just had to get there.
Things in Tijuana started smoothly enough. The bus was only 90 minutes late. Everyone told us repeatedly that this was excellent by local standards. After 15 hours and 630 miles of Twilight in Spanish (no subtitles, no mercy), Audrey and I stepped off into the dusty town of Vizcaíno. There was nothing to indicate that we were at the bus stop other than the fact that the bus had stopped there.