Islas de Todos Santos - August 21, 2002

We had fantastic weather for the crossing. Visibility was virtually unlimited, the swell was small, and there was virtually no wind. Jonathan's stopping for a drink.

George challenging Margo to race the crossing. Margo telling George to let her know how it comes out.

The south side of the Punta Banda Peninsula is breathtaking. It is really impossible to capture it with a picture.

Mike missed his career in movies. He seems to be very photogenic, and always in the right place at the right time. I must have taken 10 pictures of La Bufadora, but this was the only one that came out well.

We sometimes got closer than Mike is in this picture, but we never really did tease this monster too closely. We wanted to live.

Later in the day when the men went back out to play, we found a place I call the royal flush. This was another super fun spot where swell safely washed over some rocks creating a large wash-over, and sometimes a huge swirling suck hole at the bottom. There weren't many swells large enough to really activate this thing, so it was an exercise in patience. When it did go off, you had to be right in position or the currents would pull you off line.

At some point Mike lined up on this thing for the umpteenth time, but seemed to be hesitating when an awesome swell was coming. We had taken to urging each other: Go..Go..Go, when a suitably sized swell was on the way. This was no exception, but Mike still waited. Then when it was too late, he finally went, got turn sideways, flipped upside-down and then washed through the slot. I had recently gotten flipped in there and knew the forces under water were violent. I was barely able to hold onto my paddle long enough to roll up, but eventually it calmed and I did. I was yelling: "hang in there mike". Of course he couldn't hear me.

Then I saw the boat wash back through upside-down. I started to wonder if my "hang in there" advice was good. It turned out that Mike had gotten the idea that he had been royally flushed, and exited the boat on the other side where I couldn't see. Soon all the gear he had loose in his cockpit got flushed as well. George got Mike, Jonathan got Mike's boat, and I collected all of Mike's gear. I found the last few pieces with the help of a Seagull that was thinking of eating them.

Once Mike was back in his boat he went through a few more times, but he was careful not to hesitate anymore.

Mike put it this way: