Tembabiche

Wednesday November 16, 2022

25º 30.188 N, 111º 01.062 W

Podcast

Tembabiche: Baja's Quiet Charm

Sailing from Isla Danzante to Tembabiche took the better part of the day, but the hours passed swiftly with a decent breeze from the north-northeast. The approach to Tembabiche is known for its rich shoreline, including a small, abandoned mansion famously called the “Casa Grande.” Local lore says it was built by a pearl diver who struck it rich in the early 1900s, but the dream collapsed when the pearl beds were depleted. Now, the shell of that grand home stands as a silent reminder of fortunes won and lost.

Coming into the anchorage, we spotted a long, sandy beach set against rolling desert terrain. A handful of palapas and small fishing shacks dotted the shoreline, suggesting a modest local community. Tembabiche is quieter than places like Bahía Concepción—here, fishing pangas rule, and cruisers only drop by in search of solitude and a peek into Baja’s storied past.

I took Thaalia to a slow crawl, scanning for any coral heads or sandbars. The charts in this part of the Sea can be off, so we trust our eyes as much as the depth sounder. George gave the nod, and we dropped anchor in about 15 feet of water, clear enough to see the anchor dig into pale sand. With another successful set behind us, it was time for our ritual “rum and yellow shit.” Only this time, we were out of normal juices, so we had to get creative- tried pomegranate juice. Surprisingly good!

We settled in, We resigned ourselves to a lazy morning on board, sipping coffee and chatting about the next leg of our voyage. In the afternoon the breeze picked up, rocking us a bit on the anchor, but we felt secure. Morning went by, and eventually we both grabbed a book and sat there doing pretty much absolutely nothing. It was fantastic. As the sun dipped, the shoreline took on a burnished glow.

Tembabiche might not have the dramatic cliffs or lush reefs of other anchorages, but it offers a different kind of beauty. There’s a stillness to the air, broken occasionally by the hum of a panga engine or the distant call of a seabird. By 8 PM, everything went quiet except for the soft rush of water against the hull. I read in the cockpit for a while, letting the gentle motion lull me.

We shared a simple dinner out on deck, bbq pork and coleslaw, watching the

sun set behind the desert hills. The stars sprinkled across the sky, and I leaned into George and drifted off to sleep. Another peaceful and relaxing day on our journey.