Sweet Pea Cove, Isla San Marcos

27 14.039n 112 06.264w

Friday Aug 12, 2022

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Sweet Pea Cove: A Sailor's Delight

Sometimes the best sailing days are the ones where you let the wind decide your destination. That's exactly what happened when we left Punto Pulpito on what turned into one of those perfect days that make you fall in love with sailing all over again. The southeast winds were steady, pushing Thaalia along at a consistent 7 knots, and our original plan of heading to Punta Chivato evolved into something even better.

The Sea of Cortez was particularly playful that morning, with small whitecaps dancing across the deep blue water. As we adjusted our course toward Sweet Pea Cove, the distinctive white cliffs of Isla San Marcos began to emerge on the horizon. The island has been a gypsum mining operation since the early 1900s, and while the mining continues on the eastern side, the western coastline remains a pristine paradise for sailors.

Our journey took an exciting turn when the hand line suddenly went taut. "Fish on!" George called out, already moving to the stern. The distinctive gold and blue flash beneath the surface told us we had a dorado, and a good-sized one at that. George has developed quite the technique for landing these beautiful fish - a careful balance of giving line and pulling in, all while keeping the fish from throwing the hook. I still hold my breath every time he reaches over to grasp the leader, but he's become quite adept at the final grab-and-pull maneuver.

That first dorado was just the beginning. By the time we reached Sweet Pea Cove, we'd landed three! The last one put on quite a show, leaping completely out of the water several times before finally coming aboard. Local fishermen had told us that dorado often hunt in small groups, but this was our first time experiencing such abundant success with our simple hand line setup.

The approach to Sweet Pea Cove reveals why it's such a popular anchorage. The distinctive curve of the coastline offers excellent protection from most wind directions, and the water gradually shallows to a perfect anchoring depth. The afternoon sun illuminated the gypsum cliffs, creating an almost otherworldly backdrop to our anchorage. Despite the active mining operation on the other side of the island, this cove maintains an air of untouched tranquility.

We dropped anchor in about 25 feet of crystal-clear water, taking time to ensure we had a good set - a habit that brings peace of mind when you're planning to sleep soundly. Two other sailboats shared the anchorage with us: "Blue Moon" from Seattle and "Wanderer" from San Diego. In true cruiser fashion, friendly waves were exchanged as we settled in.

The late afternoon light brought out the stunning colors of the landscape - the white gypsum cliffs contrasting with the reddish-brown volcanic rock, all reflected in the turquoise water below. The geological history of Isla San Marcos is fascinating; the gypsum deposits were formed millions of years ago when this area was a lagoon that gradually evaporated, leaving behind the mineral-rich deposits that would later become so valuable.

As the sun began its descent, I fired up our little grill in the cockpit. There's something deeply satisfying about preparing a meal you've caught yourself, and dorado is particularly delicious when it's this fresh. We grilled the fish with simple seasonings - lime, garlic, and a touch of local chile - along with some vegetables we had picked up in Loreto earlier in the week. The sunset provided a spectacular backdrop to our feast, painting the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks that reflected off the white cliffs.

After dinner, we sat in the cockpit, sharing stories with Jim and Sarah from "Blue Moon" who had dinghied over for sundowners. They'd been cruising these waters for several seasons and shared tales of watching whale sharks feed right in this cove during the winter months. The conversation drifted from fishing techniques to favorite anchorages, and finally to the practical matters of provisioning - particularly the Saturday market schedule in Santa Rosalia, our next destination.

The evening brought a gentle cooling breeze, carrying with it the subtle mineral scent from the gypsum cliffs. The stars began to appear, incredibly bright in this remote location, and we could see the lights from the mining operation twinkling faintly on the other side of the island. It was a reminder of how this place represents a unique balance between industrial activity and natural beauty.

We set our alarm for an early departure to Santa Rosalia - the market closes at 1 PM on Saturdays, and we needed to replenish our fresh produce supplies. But for now, we savored the peaceful evening, listening to the gentle lapping of waves against Thaalia's hull and watching the nearly full moon rise over the eastern horizon.

Sweet Pea Cove had lived up to its charming name, providing us with not just a safe anchor spot, but a day full of successful fishing, stunning views, and the kind of tranquil evening that makes the cruising life so special. As we prepared for bed, we could hear the distant calls of pelicans settling in for the night, and the soft glow of anchor lights from our neighboring boats created a sense of peaceful community in this remote corner of the Sea of Cortez.

The day had been a perfect reminder of why we chose this lifestyle - the freedom to follow the wind, the joy of living close to nature, and the simple pleasure of sharing fresh-caught fish under a star-filled sky. Tomorrow would bring new adventures in Santa Rosalia, but tonight, Sweet Pea Cove held us in its serene embrace, a jewel in the crown of Isla San Marcos.

Sometimes the best sailing days are the ones where you let the wind decide your destination. That's exactly what happened when we left Punto Pulpito on what turned into one of those perfect days that make you fall in love with sailing all over again. The southeast winds were steady, pushing Thaalia along at a consistent 5 knots, and our original plan of heading to Punta Chivato evolved into something even better.

We dropped anchor in about 35 feet of crystal-clear water, taking time to ensure we had a good set - a habit that brings peace of mind when you're planning to sleep soundly. Two other sailboats shared the anchorage. In true cruiser fashion, friendly waves were exchanged as we settled in.

As the sun began its descent, George fired up our little grill in the cockpit. There's something deeply satisfying about preparing a meal you've caught yourself, and dorado is particularly delicious when it's this fresh. We grilled the fish with simple seasonings - lime, garlic, and a touch of local chile - along with some vegetables we had picked up earlier in the week. The sunset provided a spectacular backdrop to our feast, painting the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks that reflected off the white cliffs.