Isla Esteban to Honeymoon Cove at Punta Willard, October 25th 2004.

We could have spent another day hanging out in happy valley but we felt a little exposed being another island away from where our float plan said we were going to be. So in the morning we got up early and packed the boats to return to Isla Tiburon. As we launched I saw some blue marks on the rocks at low tide. It looked to me like a blue fiberglass kayak had been dragged over the rocks to launch here, but both of our fiberglass kayaks have white hulls. I take this as evidence that other kayakers have found this lovely valley to camp in. Everyone else suggested this was more likely a mark from a local panga fishing boat, but I prefer to believe it is a mark left behind by one of Ed Gillette’s kayaks.

Again we made Lucy O’Brien take the lead and stayed close behind her. In the morning the flooding tide was going our way at first and we made fast progress. But as we approached Tiburon the tide turned and went parallel to the shore. Trying to return to the same point we started from the previous day we kept turning farther and farther east until we were making no progress. Then we turned back north and let the tide wash us west as we dashed straight to the shore. While Don Fleming and Lucy landed to stretch their legs, John Somers and I dashed a mile or so east to see some of the shoreline that we missed. I was curious to see if I could find the beach that Ed Gillette recommended. We saw three arroyos emptying onto gravel beaches that could have been the right one, but nothing that jumped out at us.

We turned west planning on rounding Punta Willard before camping for the evening. On the way we found a lot of interesting shoreline with rock gardens to play in and one arch too small to paddle through. When we got to the south side of the point we found that it was a popular place for clam shell graffiti. People had written their names in white clamshells on the sides of the hills. One of these signatures was quite elaborate with a fancy font and sparkle lines, all made out of hundreds of arranged clamshells. Finally we rounded the tip of Punta Willard and the light mounted there.

Once north of the point we could see far up the west side of Isla Tiburon. The first thing we paddled into was a large cove that is recommended by all the cruising guides. We found one boat anchored there with four Gringo’s hanging out in their floating house. They offered us cold beers. Lucy and I declined and settled for diet soda. John Somers and Don happily accepted saying that they would kill for a beer. The shore of this cove was a gentle sandy beach and Don wanted to land to enjoy his beer while it was cold. However, our benefactors told us that the next cove north was nice, secluded, called Honeymoon Cove and only a half a mile away. It may only seem a half a mile to someone who motors around on Diesel fuel, but it turned out to be over a mile. Don grumbled about tempting the gods by not taking advantage of their gifts. His beer, however, was still cold when we finally landed on a sandy beach where we settled down for the night.