Burro Bay to Getaway Cove, Oct. 30
Our time in Lake Mead was coming to an end. We had committed to visiting some friends from Oregon who were RV’ing in Yuma before heading south to San Carlos, Mexico. They were expecting us on the 31st.
Leaving the tight confines of Burro Bay
We headed on a leisurely trip back towards Temple Bar Marina, planning to spend the night at a cove near the marina for an early start the next morning. As we were sailing down the channels, seeing the views from a different perspective, the winds picked up and we enjoyed a fast, exciting sail. (click blue text for video) We were having such fun sailing, we traveled well beyond where we wanted to anchor for the night just to enjoy the sailing. I looked back at one point and saw the dinghy we were towing was spinning in the wind. With Chris’ help we righted the boat and tied it up closer to Enosis. Fortunately, the oars were still there, but the seat was lost.
The seat was a “treasure” found on Spencer Spit up in the San Juan's in early July. The original seat was broken and in the haste to leave Medford, we had not found a new one. Beachcombing at the Spit in July, Chris had found a board that would work. He sawed and sanded away at it to make it a little smoother and shorter, and that was what we were using for the seat, with the addition of two wool socks at the ends to keep the rough wood from abrading the rubber. Now that seat was gone.
Chris did gracefully acknowledge that my caution about pulling the dinghy with the oars it had merit. We are now careful to put the seat and oars on board when the wind is strong and the sea rough.
The seat was a “treasure” found on Spencer Spit up in the San Juan's in early July. The original seat was broken and in the haste to leave Medford, we had not found a new one. Beachcombing at the Spit in July, Chris had found a board that would work. He sawed and sanded away at it to make it a little smoother and shorter, and that was what we were using for the seat, with the addition of two wool socks at the ends to keep the rough wood from abrading the rubber. Now that seat was gone.
Chris did gracefully acknowledge that my caution about pulling the dinghy with the oars it had merit. We are now careful to put the seat and oars on board when the wind is strong and the sea rough.
With the winds as strong as they were, Chris found a tiny anchorage that would protect us from the wind. It had a small arroyo at the end and high rocks on either side. Where the arroyo met the water was a sandy beach free of rocks but thick with a patch of marsh reeds. We beached the boat in the reeds and went ashore to secure the bow anchor. We then took a line from each stern cleat and secured it to rocks on either side. So this time we had an anchor on the bow, and one on each side to the rocks ashore. Boy, this anchorage was closer to rocks than any one we had in British Columbia. And I thought those were scary.
We passed a quiet safe night in our tiny cove in spite of the rocks pressing in on 3 sides. (I think she is Petrophobic—Chris’ note)
We passed a quiet safe night in our tiny cove in spite of the rocks pressing in on 3 sides. (I think she is Petrophobic—Chris’ note)