West Coast of the Baja Peninsula: Part II (Magdalena Bay & Cabo San Lucas)
- Abbey Seeley
- 7 days ago
- 14 min read
Updated: 6 days ago
Hello everyone, and thanks for joining me for Part II of our exploration of the western coast of the Baja Peninsula aboard the good ship Atlantean. At this point, I am recounting events that took place over a month ago, as we've reached our planned northernmost point in the Sea of Cortez and are now heading south again. That said, grab your snorkels, and let's dive into the juicy goodness of Magdelena Bay.
Leaving Bahia Asuncion
The sail from Asuncion to our next stop was 200 miles, which means we left in the morning, sailed through the night, and arrived the next evening. From then, it would be another nine days before arriving in Cabo San Lucas, which would officially conclude our trip from Los Angeles, California, down the Western Pacific Coast of the Baja Peninsula.
As we departed Asuncion, a curious and adorable seal swam in our wake for a considerable time, a sight that felt like a lucky omen for the miles ahead. Shortly thereafter, a massive pod of dolphins swam by, which would be the first of two pods that enjoyed swimming at the bow of Atlantean during this passage.
Bahia Santa Maria
Since we didn't want to enter Magdelena Bay in the dark, we anchored in Bahia Santa Maria and got some much-needed rest. After having our morning coffee and writing in our log books, we pulled up the anchor and started on a short, 19-mile skip to the famous Magdalena Bay.
During this time, I began to observe what appeared to be something like a blister on one of my toes, while another toe (one Adam had repeatedly stepped on) was swollen and purple. Although the condition of the squashed toe was understandable, I was puzzled about the cause of the blister, especially because I hadn't been wearing shoes. All I could think about was my feet being consistently cold or moist due to the weather and bad circulation. I didn't think much of it, figuring it would resolve itself with time...
Bahia de Magdalena (Magdalena Bay)
Back in Ensenada, Adam noticed two National Geographic vessels in Magdalena Bay on the Marine Traffic app. We were already looking forward to Magdalena Bay, but this observation piqued our curiosity even more. All this time, we were keen to discover what the National Geographic team was observing down there, and alas, we finally made it.
If you haven't heard, Magdalena Bay is the place for whale season. Grey whales start showing up in late December, but the real magic happens between February and March, when the bay fills with mothers and newborn calves. By late March, the whales begin their journey north, heading back to their Arctic feeding grounds, wrapping up the longest migration of any mammal on the planet. Pretty incredible, right?
Even before we reached Magdalena Bay, the sightings began — distant plumes of spray and the slow arc of backs breaking the surface. It was thrilling. Despite years of sailing near Los Angeles and the Channel Islands, Adam and I had only glimpsed whales once before, and even then, they were just shadows on the horizon.
We entered the bay on a beautiful, cloudless day. Off to the left, we spotted a cluster of small huts, and just a handful of boats dotted the vast water, which felt even larger than I had imagined. Adam was literally hooting and hollering with joy, declaring, "The trip has finally begun!" and repeatedly asking, "Aren't you stoked? I need you to be more stoked!" I was stoked, but matching his level of excitement was tough. In my mind, the trip had begun the moment we left Los Angeles, so I wasn’t exactly sure what he was on about, but I was happy to see him so happy.
Punta Belcher
After entering Magdalena Bay, we anchored at Belcher Point. There was no one else around except one anchored fishing panga that we initially thought was empty, but after a couple of hours, a man's head popped up, and he drove away. Must have been a nice nap!
Since leaving Ensenada, Adam and I hadn’t stepped off the boat once. Whenever people asked why we hadn’t gone ashore to explore, we each had our reasons. After spending sixty days on land in Ensenada, Adam was more than ready for a long stretch at sea — and honestly, we didn’t have much reason to go ashore anyway. Thanks to our water maker and extensive provisioning, we had everything we needed. The only real issue was trash, but when we stopped to refuel in Asuncion, the man who brought the diesel out to us also offered to take our garbage. Problem solved- and we stayed happily aboard.
Personally, I was hesitant to go ashore because, after battling seasickness for nearly six days at the start of our journey, I didn’t want to risk losing my sea legs. I wasn’t sure how long I could be off the boat before that happened, and I wasn't exactly itching to find out. Thankfully, I’ve since learned that quick day trips to land don’t seem to affect me. That said, when we recently spent a week tied up in a slip at Santa Rosalia, I was sick again once we set sail. It didn’t last six days -thank goodness- but it was enough to remind me that spending too much time docked or on shore can be risky business for this sensitive sailor.
In any case, we decided it was time to stretch our legs, so we lowered the dinghy from the foredeck of Atlantean and placed it in the water. After that, we used a pulley system that Adam built to move the outboard from the aft railing onto the back of the dinghy. From there, we retrieved the gas tank from our "garage," and our vehicle was ready to go.
Speaking of our dinghy, we are having a hard time coming up with a name for her. I like Apollo or Acorus, and Adam likes Antipodes (pronounced an-TI-pō-diz). If you have any suggestions, please leave them in the comments below. Bonus points if it starts with an A, to, you know, be on brand (Adam, Abbey, Atlantean, etc)
What should we name our dinghy?
Apollo
Acorus
Antipodes
Other (leave in comment section below)
You can vote for more than one answer.
Once we arrived at the shore, we walked along the beach and encountered many sea creature skeletons. Having noticed large pillars protruding from the water while on the boat, we decided to head in that direction to explore further. It was there that the following photos were captured.
It was such a cool and fascinating area to explore, giving off a somewhat post-apocalyptic atmosphere due to the absence of people. When we returned to Atlantean, our curiosity about the pier and its history led us to discover the following information online.
"The pier at Belcher's Point in Magalena Bay, Mexico, was historically a key facility used by the U.S. Navy and other maritime operations. During the early to mid-20th century, it served as a refueling and supply station, particularly during World War II when the U.S. military had a presence in the region for coastal defense and training exercises.
Belcher's Point itself is located near the entrance to Magdalena Bay, which has long been a strategic anchorage due to its deep, protected waters. Over time, the pier and associated infrastructure fell into disrepair, and today, little remains of the original structure. The area is now primarily used by fishermen and transient cruisers, with no significant facilities still operational."
Man Of War Cove
The following day, we made our way to Man of War Cove, where around five other sailboats were anchored. We launched the dinghy once more and went ashore. Man of War Cove is a charming fishing village with only one restaurant. There, we spent our remaining pesos on the most delicious fish tacos, reminding ourselves of the necessity of having pesos in small towns where they don't accept credit cards.
On the second night, one of the two National Geographic boats we saw all the way back in Ensenada anchored nearby us, looking massive in the darkness. It wasn’t until the next morning that we got a good look at it in the daylight and it was exciting to see it up close. Being anchored near a National Geographic vessel made us feel like we were in the right place, at the right time.
Another neat aspect of this area is that on the village's southern end, you will find a "glamping" campsite that features small tents scattered along the oceanfront. Each tent displayed signs at the entrance reading, "No shoes inside" and there was a small communal building equipped with hammocks and what appeared to be a kitchen area. The "shell and bone garden" photo below is located in front of the communal building amongst the spread-out campsites.
The next day, we took the dinghy over to a nearby stretch of white-sand beach. After landing, we walked across rolling hills to the opposite side, where we could see where we had anchored previously in Santa Maria. I didn’t snap a photo, but the water looked strange — almost rusty or reddish in color. We figured it must be red tide, a natural phenomenon caused by a large bloom of algae that can tint the water and affect marine life.
Upon returning to the dinghy, we cruised around the bay, observing whales alongside other chartered boats filled with groups of people doing the same. Whales were nearby and in the distance, here and there; quite literally, whales were everywhere. Despite so many, their movements were difficult to anticipate, and we never managed to get very close to any of them on this particular day.
San Carlos
By this time, my mysterious foot problem was worsening. Small red bumps were appearing on all my toes, making them highly sensitive to touch and causing a tingling sensation when exposed to sunlight. After researching and reaching out to several people for their expertise and advice (shout out to Eleni and Sherry), Adam and I decided to go to the nearest town to retrieve hydrocortisone and possibly see a doctor.
The journey to San Carlos was approximately three hours up a winding channel that was blanketed by an astonishing number of birds. During this pass, all the birds were resting atop the water, slowly moving out of the way of Atlantean, parting just in time to let her slip by.
Once we arrived, we anchored a considerable distance from the beach to avoid the extensive tidal shallows. We then unloaded the dinghy and made our way to the shore. The photo below shows where we secured the dinghy, and as you can see, we had to climb a rusty ladder to get up to the dock, which I found to be super fun. At this time, the Sea Bird National Geographic boat was docked there too; you can spot it behind the fishing trawler in the second photo. (Side note: I originally wrote here that it was the second of the two National Geographic boats but I stand corrected by Adam who insists it was the same boat that was anchored behind us in Man of War Cove.)
As we walked through town, a large group of people shouted and cheered while watching a soccer game at one of the outdoor fields. It was a blistering hot day, and I couldn't help but be glad I wasn't running around in the heat. Near the soccer field, Adam stopped to help a group of three men free a car that was stuck in a ditch. They were very friendly and grateful for the assistance. After the car was on solid ground, the man in the drivers seat of the vehicle shouted something in spanish and pointed at Adam before flexing his biceps. As we walked away, Adam admitted that he wasn't really pushing that hard as he was not about to strain his back again.
As we continued through the town, we saw many stray dogs, something we were used to after two months in Ensenada. Sadly, one of them had a large tumor growing in its neck. The poor thing didn't look very good and was lying behind the tire of a truck along the side of the hot street. He looked weak and worn, leaving a heavy feeling in my chest as we quietly moved on.
We attempted to get pesos, but there was no ATM in town, and our search for a doctor came up empty as he was out for lunch. However, we did get hydrocortisone, some antibiotics, and much-needed cold beverages at the pharmacy. Afterward, we stopped at the market and picked up a few items like bread, canned olives, gummy bears for my sweet-toothed Adam, and coffee creamer for me because I've gone soft recently.
On our walk back to the dinghy, we found ourselves strolling down a long street toward the marina alongside a young man named Elliot from Boston. He told us he was crewing on the National Geographic boat and recommended we visit Almeja if we wanted to see whales spyhopping. We hadn't heard the term before, so Elliot explained it—and that’s when it clicked. We realized we had actually witnessed spyhopping during our very first sail out of Los Angeles!
In my blog post, Sea ya later, California! Atlantean-Out, I talked about how we spotted something in the water ahead of the boat, but couldn't identify it at the time. We now realize it was definitely a whale spyhopping, which is when they go vertical and stick their upper body out of the water so far that their eyes break the surface. The exact reason for this behavior is unknown, but it's believed that they do it to get a better vantage point on their surroundings. It can last for several minutes at a time, and what I find fascinating is that, unlike the noisy splash of a breach, spyhopping is incredibly silent-hence the "spy" in the name.
Anyway, Elliott told us that Almeja was the place to see whales spyhopping-and even better, it’s where whales are known to approach boats, sometimes letting people reach out and pet them. After hearing that, we knew we had to make a stop there before leaving the bay and continuing our journey south. It felt like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity we couldn't pass up.
Elliott, if you’re reading this-thank you for the tip, because our experience in Almeja turned out to be something I’ll never forget...
As we made our way back to Man of War Cove, retracing the winding channel we had traveled earlier, the scene had transformed. The same birds that once floated idly on the water were now taking to the sky, carried by the glow of the setting sun. Hundreds- if not thousands -soared past Atlantean, their silhouettes threading through the golden light. It was a moment that felt both fleeting and endless, a quiet reminder of the unseen rhythms of the natural world. These birds, these small lives, were moving through their own hidden rituals — beautiful, instinctive acts that unfold whether or not there is anyone there to witness them.
Man of War Cove... Again
We arrived back in Man of War Cove late that night, and the following day, we sorted through Atlantean's medical supplies and medicine. Having acquired a substantial box of medicine from Ensenada, we worked together to create a spreadsheet translating all the medicine from Spanish to English, along with their uses, dosages, etc.
I’m almost certain that what I experienced on my toes was chilblains. Chilblains are similar to frostbite, but they happen in cold weather rather than freezing temperatures, especially when cold feet warm up too quickly. The tingling sensation I felt in the sun was likely due to the rapid warming effect. Once I started keeping my feet out of the sun, they improved significantly. It took a couple of weeks for everything to heal, but thankfully, it hasn’t been a problem since we reached warmer weather.
Almeja
As we headed toward the exit of the bay, we decided to extend our Magdalena adventure and try our luck with the whales in Almeja. It took about two hours to reach Alcatraz, but once we dropped anchor, the strong winds made it clear we wouldn't be staying long. With gusts reaching 20 knots, launching the dinghy and chasing whales wasn’t exactly in the cards. At first, it felt like a wasted effort - but on the way back, we stumbled upon something that made the four-hour round trip completely worth it.
At one point, six whales surrounded the boat - one in every direction. We were motoring into the wind and current, and Adam had to constantly adjust our course and RPMs just to hold us nearly in place. For almost an hour, we hovered there, watching the whales spouting and spyhop all around us. I stood at the bow filming while Adam steered from the cockpit, giving us both a front-row seat as these enormous, majestic creatures approached us, inspecting us as curiously as we inspected them.
Then, the most amazing thing happened. A whale began to rise from beneath the water less than five feet off our starboard side. Though his head never fully broke the surface, I saw his face -his eyes- and I swear we made eye contact before he disappeared momentarily, only to resurface seconds later directly in front of the boat. He swam there for maybe thirty seconds, his massive body fully visible right before my very eyes. He was so close, the spray from his blowhole went into my mouth! And in case you’re wondering, yes, whale breath is absolutely awful. When I told Adam, he laughed and said, “Your breath would stink too if all you ate were fish every day.”
Although it would have been nice to stay forever, eventually, we had to move on, leaving the whales - and that magical place - behind. A long sail stretched out ahead of us, and the wind was calling. With a bittersweet goodbye, we departed Magdalena Bay, wishing we had just a little more time.
Cabo San Lucas
We reached Cabo late at night, anchoring in the darkness. This was our first stop in a large city since Ensenada. Arriving after nightfall, it seemed as though there were only one or two boats present. The city's backdrop made it difficult to spot any anchor lights, and no boats appeared on AIS. It wasn't until the next morning that we realized many boats were in the area. Nonetheless, we had anchored quite a distance from everyone else.
The dinghy ride to the dock took fifteen minutes each way, making it a thirty-minute round trip. Seeing Cabo from our small dinghy was truly a delight. Having never visited Cabo San Lucas before, I was surprised by how impressive it was. There were so many boats and people, so many bachelorette celebrations taking place on large party vessels passing by. The vibes felt high, and everyone looked so fancy, all dressed up. We didn't fit in in that regard, but it was cool to see.
Cabo San Lucas was the first location where we went swimming in the water! During our time there, we also did laundry, stocked up on supplies, refueled, visited a fishing shop, and explored a farmers market.
One day, while we were in the galley talking, we heard an unusual noise on deck. We went up to the cockpit and saw two guys on jet skis nearby, pointing towards the front of the boat. I went to the bow and discovered that they had either accidentally crashed their drone into the boat or were attempting an emergency landing. Regardless, we returned their drone to them (which had a piece broken off), and they headed back towards the beach together.
On the third day in Cabo, I woke up in such intense pain that I could barely sit up on my own. It was a familiar sensation, and I knew exactly what was happening, so I searched for a chiropractor and found a highly-rated one who spoke English. Adam and I took an Uber to see Dr. Kevin McCaleb at DKM Body Balance Chiropractic in Los Cabos. He lived up to his five-star reviews by realigning my ribs. At the end of my visit, I asked, "So I did have a rib out, right?" to which he replied, "A couple."
I felt immediate relief after the adjustment. Unfortunately, later that night as I climbed into the V-berth, I rested my body weight on my elbow and I could feel my rib pop out of place again. I was so disappointed. The next day, I had to return for another adjustment he fixed me up just right.
For the past three years, I’ve been dealing with this issue: my ribs popping out of place, often accompanied by a sprained neck. In fact, I'm battling it again as I write this post. My biggest fear is that it’ll happen in the middle of an ocean crossing. If anyone has advice, I’m open to any and all suggestions or reccomendations.
Family surprise in Cabo San Lucas
On the day of my first chiropractor appointment, I was feeling a bit down about my situation. While browsing Instagram, I saw a post from my cousin and realized from her photo that she was in Cabo with her mother (my aunt). After getting in touch, we arranged to have lunch the next day. Seeing a familiar face was wonderful, and spending time with them was a real treat! It significantly lifted my spirits because I sure do love my cousin. By the way, if you're looking for a real estate agent in the Salt Lake area, look no further than my girl, Jessika Long.
Farewell to the first chapter
Our time in Cabo San Lucas marked a bittersweet turning point - the end of one incredible chapter and the beginning of another. From the quiet beaches of Magdalena Bay to the lively streets of Cabo, every experience felt new to us, because, well, it was! I’m grateful for the whales we encountered, the people we crossed paths with, the challenges we overcame, and the countless small moments that made the first leg of our voyage meaningful. I will forever remember this part of our trip as special because Adam and I were learning and adapting to this new lifestyle together.
Thanks so much for following along on our journey! If you enjoyed this post, don’t forget to like, subscribe, and stick around for more adventures. Your support truly means the world to us!
Loved Adam's assessment of "whale breath". Sorry that it was at your expense, Abbey! Keep up the adventures, the pics, and the blog. Abbey, you write REALLY well...love you guys!!! And I thought "Archie" too before I saw Mamma S's comment.
Uncle S.
Anchovie
Dingy name:: Filos or Phlos Greek for Friend
Archie the dinghy