Excerpt:

Planning a Trip
So, it’s happened. You saw a photo of brightly colored kayaks floating on shimmering turquoise waters, or of a campsite set up on a cacti-studded isle. You listened to a friend tell tales about the Vermilion Sea, as the Cortez was once called; a place that has drawn explorers, pirates, profiteers and adventurers for centuries. Or perhaps you have your own memories of the Baja coast, and you’re looking for a few new spots to launch your kayak sometime in the future. The intricacies of planning a private south-of-the-border kayaking trip may seem daunting.

When I first launched at San Felipe, the northernmost city on Baja’s eastern coast, my only time spent in a kayak had been in a YMCA pool. Many people who kayak for the first time are surprised to find that it isn’t as difficult as they expected. Unlike riding a bicycle or ice skating, a beginner can manage (in this case, paddle) quite competently within minutes. After catching their breaths and gliding a few feet across the water, the first words out of most of my friends’ mouths have been: “It’s so easy!”

There’s more to kayaking than simply staying afloat, however. An inefficient paddlestroke leads to aching muscles, fatigue or injury. More advanced paddlestrokes become necessary to deal with waves and wind. Navigation and map-reading are additional skills to be acquired. Launching and landing in all but the most perfect conditions take a lot of practice and experimentation. Rescues and emergency situations are taxing even for the expert.

In other words, kayaking can be initiated quite easily, but mastering it requires much more. In this regard, books and articles don’t contribute as much as experience. Sometimes you have to paddle for a while first before you can even understand the specific skill or problem an article is describing.

I think kayaking Baja is a great way to get that experience, as long as certain precautions are taken. For that reason, I don’t think most routes in the Sea of Cortez or more sheltered routes on the Pacific are necessarily “off limits” for novices. On the other hand, some routes which are easy and safe on one day can be challenging or even life-threatening on another. Often, weather and local conditions more than the paddler’s experience level will dictate a given route’s difficulty, and the most important skill to acquire is knowing when you should stay on land to wait for bad conditions to pass.

From a 2-mile paddle on the lazy Río Rosalía, to a 20-mile island hopping tour in Bahía de Los Ángeles, to what some consider their “dream trip”: a 670+-mile voyage from San Felipe to La Paz, there are many levels at which one may kayak Baja.

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Commercial Trips
In my mind, the best thing about commercial trips is also the worst thing: they do most of the work for you. For me, a great part of the fun, adventure and challenge starts as soon as the maps and scratch pads come out. Figuring out where to go, what to see, how to overcome obstacles and handle the logistics creatively is as much a part of kayaking as the paddling. There may be more risk and work in planning one’s own trip, but also greater reward. It is an incomparable experience to be sitting on an island thousands of miles from home, several miles offshore, and to think: I got here. Back home, long after the tan fades, there is a serenity imparted from the knowledge that you made it happen.

To be fair, though, some people wouldn’t experience sea kayaking if they had to do it all. For them, it’s a great relief to be told where to go and to see what the brochure promises. Additionally, commercial trips have some other potential advantages. If you don’t know anything about kayaking, they’re safer. If you do know something about kayaking, you may be able to pick up even more skills with personalized instruction from your tour leader. Not having to buy, rent or transport kayaks and equipment on your own can be a time- and money-saver.

You’ll also be spared the process of obtaining permits, where permits are required. As paddling becomes even more popular and closely regulated, it may be easier to obtain reservations for campsites on Isla Carmen near Loreto, for example, by joining a locally-based tour that has already secured those sites. If you’re not sure how to practice no-trace-camping, you may be more comfortable joining a tour group that has already worked out waste-management solutions.

You may not have to cook or set up camp. Large, organized trips offer a great way to meet people. Experienced tour leaders often know a specific area well, and can point out plants and wildlife better than any guidebook. They can also answer a lot of questions. Having fellow group members nearby can be encouraging and can help make the time pass more quickly. In general, if your image of a great kayak trip is pulling up to a beach, being handed an ice-cold beer, and not having any responsibilities until the next day’s paddle, you are most likely envisioning a commercial kayaking trip.

Tours may or may not emphasize nature observation en route. Some have specific themes, such as all women, or the observation of a specific animal or event. You might also inquire if trip schedules include free time for snorkeling and exploring on your own. Other questions to ask: How many miles per day? How many paddlers and leaders per group? Average experience of each paddler? Single or double kayaks?

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Self-Planned Trips:
How Fast, How Long, How Far?
To start, the basic speed at which a moderately skilled kayak paddles is just over 3 miles per hour. (Although “knots” and “nautical miles” are usually used in sailing and boating, this book will use “miles per hour” and “statute miles” in referring to speed and distance. For reference, 1 knot = 1.15 statute miles per hour. This difference is negligible when discussing paddling speed, but significant when discussing high wind speeds or when translating long distances from nautical miles to statute miles.)

That average is helpful in computing daily mileages, but don’t take it too seriously. If you know your own average, good. If you don’t, you may not have paddled much yet and may go a bit slower. In any case, speed depends not only on changing conditions like wind and waves, but also how many breaks you take, whether you stop paddling periodically to snap pictures, set out a fishing line, etc.

Daily distance is affected by many variables, beyond both speed and simple endurance. Even if you are going strong and paddling rapidly, that wind that picks up nearly every afternoon may force you to land. Even if you’re going strong and conditions are perfect, you may stop short of your limit because you’ve reached the last good camping spot for the next several miles. Even if you’re going strong, the sea is glassy calm and there are great camping beaches as far as the eye can see, you may stop because there are other pursuits tempting you: swimming, snorkeling, hiking and so on.

Delays and distractions aside, keep in mind that endurance is not defined only by how long your arm muscles are willing to pump. On my first trips, I found that my legs got cramped and my back got sore before my arms tired, though this problem diminished with time. Additionally, as with all long-distance sports, the mental tedium of repetitive paddling may limit your daily mileage long before physical exhaustion occurs.

To generalize, a beginner might find 5 miles per day comfortable, while an expert might be able to handle 25 miles or more. 10–15 miles is all I care to do on any given day. For me, this translates to about 3–5 hours of kayaking when conditions are good, which I stretch out into a full day by stopping at intervals to hike, snorkel, eat, or rest in a shady niche.

Every few days on a long trip, you should expect a day either so bad (fatigue, illness or winds that prevent paddling) or so good (a cove, island or village you just don’t want to leave) as to make that day’s departure impossible. For me, this usually seems to occur one day for every three.

Planning plenty of rest days is always a good idea. You may not have the option of resting too long, however. Certain stretches are so remote that unless you can make good, consistent daily mileage, you may risk running out of water (count on at least one gallon per day, per person) before you can make it to the next well-populated area. At the hottest times of the year, temps in Baja can exceed 110°F.

Even during cooler seasons, it may take you approximately 5 to 7 days to become heat-acclimated. Take it easy, drink plenty of water, and be alert for signs of heat cramps, heat exhaustion or sunstroke.

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Cultural Acclimation
As in many places south of the border and around the world, time does indeed operate a little differently in Baja. If you know any Spanish, you’re probably already familiar with mañana (tomorrow) and un momentito (a small moment) or un rato (a while), the latter of which is suggested by the positioning of index finger and thumb about one inch apart.
Paddle as quickly as you may, set up and take down camp as efficiently as you are able, you will still run into the effects of Baja time at some point in your trip. You may be in a rush, but if you step foot in a camp or town where no one else is, be prepared.

During one trip, for example, my partner and I stopped at a camp in hopes of restocking supplies. There was one restaurant, but no store. We asked to buy some basics from the owner: rice, limes, sugar. She said “yes” immediately, but appended this with “un rato.” We waited “un rato,” which in this case meant 3 days. A party was in the works, and parties can (and probably should) take precedence over anxious, harried kayakers. The wait was fun, especially since we got to attend the party that was essentially holding us hostage. As soon as the last broken bottles and confetti were cleared away, we were sold the supplies we needed and headed south again.

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Where to Go
First, a brief look at geography. Baja California is one of the world’s longest peninsulas, 800 miles from north to south, flanked by two very different bodies of water: the Sea of Cortez (or Gulf of California) to the east and the Pacific Ocean to the west. A trickle of the Colorado River forms the delta at the Sea of Cortez’s northern limit. Separating the peninsula from mainland Mexico, the Cortez is more sheltered than the Pacific and dotted with islands, making it the primary locale for kayaking. Make no mistake, people have kayaked the entire Pacific coast as well; but for pleasure kayaking, only a few parts (primarily bays and lagoons) are of interest.

The Baja peninsula itself is dominated by several mountain ranges which form an almost continuous spine from north to south: the Sierra de Juárez, Sierra San Pedro Mártir, Sierra de la Giganta and Sierra de la Laguna. Most of the peninsula is desert, receiving less than 10 inches of rainfall a year. Some areas may go for several years at a time without receiving any rain at all. The exception is the northwest corner of Baja, near Ensenada, which receives more rainfall and is closer in climate to San Diego than to the rest of Baja.

Generally, the northern stretches of the Cortez experience the greatest extremes: cool in winter, but fiery hot in summer. The southern stretches are slightly less hot in summer with a bit more humidity. All along the Pacific coast damp winds and fogs contribute to a milder climate, even where actual rains are rare.

Mountains and deserts aside, Baja’s most important feature is its main highway, Highway 1. Officially dedicated in 1973, it carved a snaking path through rock and rubble, opening up a vast wilderness. In areas where it moves inland, such as in the middle of the peninsula and farther south, between Loreto and La Paz, the coast is left largely unreachable and untouched, except by boat, bush plane and burro. A few smaller highways and many poorly maintained roads also wind through the peninsula, but Highway 1 reigns supreme. You can’t see much of Baja, or even drive to your launching spots, without traveling its jagged course. And you can’t help but notice its presence nearby while paddling: where asphalt kisses the coast, tamale vendors, RVs and tourist motels abound; where the road can’t reach, there are only empty beaches or lonely cliffs looming overhead.

Baja is divided into two states, Baja California Norte and Baja California Sur, most of the population residing in the northern state. Tijuana, with a population of about 1,000,000, accounts for just under half of Baja’s total population. The rest is concentrated primarily in the cities of Ensenada and Mexicali, also near the border; as well as La Paz, the capital city of Baja California Sur. A short spur of inhabited and well-visited coast stretches between Santa Rosalía, Mulegé and Loreto in the middle of the southern state. Between these extremes, the border cities of the north, the capital city of the south and a few short stretches of developed land, there are great tracts of uninhabited coast.

Ultimately, where you’ll decide to paddle will probably depend on how much time you have, how far you’re willing to drive (or fly) to get to the starting point of your kayak trip, and what you’re hoping to do and see. A look at a map reveals where Highway 1 meets the coast, making it most accessible. A review of the routes section of this book reveals what features can be found at selected destinations. Most features and activities, such as whale-watching, snorkeling, island-hopping and beach-bumming, are available in more than one location. For example, many people believe that they must go to Bahía Magdalena, on the Pacific in Baja’s southern state, to see whales. Actually, there are great opportunities for whale-watching on the sunnier Sea of Cortez as well, especially near Loreto in the south and Bahía de Los Ángeles in the north.

There are great kayaking spots near and far: the starting point for this book’s first route, Punta Banda and the Islas de Todos Santos, is only a 2 1/2-hour drive from the border. The starting point for the farthest south route, Isla Espíritu Santo, is at least a 3-day drive. (Flights to Loreto and La Paz, in Baja California Sur, shorten the pre-kayak part of your trip if you’re planning to join a commercial tour or rent kayaks in Loreto.)

Finally, don’t forget that you can change your mind about where to go after you’re south of the border. The narrowness of the peninsula makes it easy to jump from one climate or weather system to another in less than a day’s drive. If it’s too chilly on Punta Banda on the Pacific, you can shuttle over to San Felipe and bask in the hot, dry climate of the northern Cortez.

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When to Go?
Whenever you can. Truth is, most people plan their kayak trips around other priorities, such as vacation time off from work or school. The good thing about Baja is that it does offer year-round paddling opportunities. The only time of year when kayaking is arguably impractical on the Cortez side, due to extreme temperatures, is mid-summer. Coincidentally, that is the time of year when I’ve logged most of my miles. With fewer fellow tourists on the beaches or islands, and a white-hot sun glaring down on a warm-to-the-touch sea, Baja seems even more the unconquerable, elusive land of extremes that has daunted men for so long. Of course, it’s also damn hot.

In general, to enjoy the most comfortable temperatures, kayak in late spring or late fall: April and October are particularly good months. To avoid crowds, try early summer: June is hot, but not unbearable. To see whales and birds on the Pacific, paddle in the winter. To see them on the Cortés, spring and early summer are good times. A more complete rundown on the seasons follows.

December-March
A mild, sunny climate beckons kayakers who have the winter blahs. Persistent winter northerly winds dictate caution and flexibility, however. Winter storm fronts bringing cold temperatures and wind from the southeast or southwest are also common on the Pacific. The northern reaches of the Cortez and the Pacific can still be a bit chilly, with both air and sea surface temperatures in the 50°s. Farther south on the Cortez, near Loreto and La Paz, temperatures are in the 60°s and 70°s. The gray whale arrives at Bahía Magdalena to calve and breed from December to March, instigating a flurry of whalewatching activity. Winter birdwatching in San Quintín and Bahía Magdalena is excellent. Many commercial kayaking trips operate at this time of year; particularly in Bahía Magdalena but also on Isla Espíritu Santo, you may see others on the route.

April-May
Avoid Easter Week (Semana Santa) if at all possible, especially in San Felipe and Ensenada; crowds swarm.

Northerlies start petering out in May, and temperatures ranging from the 70°s up to the 90°s make kayaking very comfortable. Seabird nesting activity starts up in winter, and is in full swing by spring. This is a good time to see birds in the Cortés, but also a time to be particularly careful about disturbing them; some island campsites and stopping sites should be avoided altogether.

June-August
If you can bear the heat of midsummer, you get the reward: many beaches and islands all to yourself. The northern Cortez is the hottest, with temperatures sometimes exceeding 110°. Farther south, temperatures are less severe, but the sea water can be a little too warm to be refreshing on the hottest days. Winds are generally weakest and more variable. In late summer and early fall, tropical storms visit the peninsula. Evening breezes in the La Paz area keep summer nights comfortable.

Tourists are less common, and even residents occasionally pack up and leave for the summer. Bioluminescence lights up the sea, particularly in the middle Cortez regions. Near Loreto, the quest for tuna and dorado heats up as well.

If it’s too hot on the Cortez, the Pacific is still comfortable. Cool temperatures and fewer visitors make Bahía Magdalena and San Quintín good spots; the Punta Banda and Islas de Todos Santos route also enjoys a mild summer climate.
September–November

Tropical storm season lasts until early October. Temperatures drop off quickly in October and November: down to the 70s and 80s. Commercial trips start up, particularly to Isla Espíritu Santo; you’ll probably encounter others on the route.

Good luck, stay safe, have fun, and drop me an e-mail if you notice any changes (environmental or regulatory) or have any information to share with fellow paddlers!

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