Day 11    Tuesday, December 23, 1997

Ensenada - La Bufadora - Fishing Cove - Ensenada

Early in the morning, we cast off to motor down to the Bufadora blowhole. This is a thin crack in the rocky coastline capable of spraying water 20-30 meters into the air. According to the local brochures, it's quite the tourist attraction. When we come there, it looks more like 20-30 feet, although it's still a nice sight.

La Bufadora

After a few Kodak moments, we continue south along the coastline. We eventually find a little protected cove next to a fish farm that we decide to anchor up in.

Fish farm

Ashikin finds a seagull with a broken wing and feeds it a few pieces of bread...

Lame duck seagull

...something that the ship cat Wellington (Wellie for short) thinks is very interesting -- at a safe distance, of course.

Wellington plays it safe

Ah, mistress and feline -- aren't they cute!

Ashikin and Wellington

I take the dinghy and row ashore for some snorkeling. On the way in, one of the oar holders break and I have to paddle back as if it was a canoe. Fortunately, we have another set so I'm quickly on my way again.  The beach is nice and it's good to have some space again.  I snorkel for a bit, but the water is too muddy to be able to see anything interesting.  Instead, I relax on the beach for a while...  Until I notice that the surf is starting to build up.  Ugh.  My first two attempts to head back in the dinghy end up in miserable failure with me, the dinghy, and my bag tossed around like leaves in a storm.  OK, a small gust, then.  I finally make it by tying the dinghy rope around my waist and getting out as far as I can before I enter it.

I swim around the ship for a bit too. The water is a fresh 19°C (68°F), but no-one else ventures in. Deborah is cold and spends most of the time under a blanket.

Back in Ensenada, I go on an accidental shopping spree buy a blanket (USD 10), poncho (USD 16), hand painted box (USD 10-15), and a piece of round stained glass depicting a dolphin (USD 20).

In the evening, we had planned to do our big dinner out at the heavily recommended Mariscos de la Ensenada. Alas, to my great dismay, it is closed for a personnel party, so we find a backup choice of Casamar instead. The food is OK. Not great, but not too bad either. Deborah and Ray keep complaining about the salsa not tasting anything. Sure, it's pretty mild -- you might even say watery -- but making statements about "we'd better teach these Mexicans how to make salsa" is something I find even less tasteful. Deborah tries to get the waiter get something hotter, mas picante, and eventually a bowl of deep brown salsa picante arrives, but it's still not up to the visitors' standards.

A funny thing happened during dinner. My Spanish is basically non-existent, but I tried to pronounce things as best as I could when I ordered the food. Apparently, I did quite well because the waiter immediately responded with something in Spanish. Not understanding what he said, I looked apologetically at him and say (in English) Sorry, I don't understand. No habla Espaņol? he asked, or something like that. I responded no, which immediately made him say something that I think was are you sure, so I said no again. This, of course, just made him more suspicious. When he came back with our main meal and I produced the basic una mas cerveza, por favor, he really didn't believe that I couldn't understand Spanish and ask me again several times -- smiling, of course. Sometimes, a little knowledge really is a dangerous thing... ;-)