Search and Rescue of Marian and Neal
By John Page
Thursday night, March 27, 2003: message on the Page answer machine from Bob Martin: “Are you ready to go to Baja to rescue Neal?”
I thought briefly about the many insults and injustices I’ve gotten from Mr. Johns over the years, but then I realized that the lovely Ste. Marian was also in peril, so I returned Bob’s call, and agreed to join his rescue mission.
Bob told me that he’d gotten a call for help from Neal on his satellite phone, who was stranded with a wife, a dog, and a broken Toyota in remote Baja back-country northeast of Cataviña, several miles off the old road from El Marmol. Neal had given Bob his GPS location, directions to that location, and the name of the broken part: the lower ball joint assembly in the left front suspension of a 1999 4wd Toyota Tacoma.
There are several Toyota dealers near my home so we agreed for me to get the new left front lower ball joint assembly. We would meet at San Diego KOA Friday afternoon and cross into Mexico early Saturday morning.
I packed my truck that night and my clothes in the morning. I included a small floor jack, a couple of jack stands, and two torque wrenches to my regular assortment of repair tools. and, later, after talking with Toyota, added a large single-jack (small sledge) hammer.
Called my Toyota parts person. He did not have the part in stock but would order it, and I should have it on Monday. I said no. So then he searched the Toyota parts database and located the only lower left front ball joint assembly in Southern California at the Toyota dealer in San Bernardino; easy for Martins to pick up on their way south. I asked about special tools, and he said all we’d need is “a very large hammer.”
Called Toyota in San Bernardino and confirmed that they had the part, which I told them to hold, and then called Bob, who agreed to pick it up.
Called Discover Baja who renewed my membership, sold me three days insurance, and e-mailed (PDF file) the policy to me so I could print it out at home. I really expected to be home Sunday night but added Monday to be prudent, which was wise, although, as it turned out, I did not need the insurance.
Late Friday morning, I kissed Anna goodbye and drove to Chula Vista, where I checked into a KOA Kabin for a fast start the next day. The Martins had not arrived yet so I drove to San Ysidro to change $400 into pesos for Martins and myself.
Then back to Chula Vista Costco for gasoline and a Shrimp and Krab salad plate to contribute to dinner with the Martins. (Turns out there is a money exchange at the Costco, so I could have avoided the drive to San Ysidro.)
Pleasant dinner in the KOA campground with the Martins, but we retired early because we had a big day ahead.
Up at 5:30 and across the border by 6:30 after paying $21 for the Tourist Pass which we had expected to be free because the duration of our trip was less than seven days. [Later: I reported this to Discover Baja who said they would discuss it with the Mexican authorities they were scheduled to meet in a few days.]
We took a scenic side trip though northern Tijuana after the Martins missed a sign to the “Scenic Road” to Ensenada.
Then we made it through Ensenada by about 9:30 in spite of the Martins missing the turn to Ensenada Centro which is the shortest way through town.
Worked our way south through very strong winds, which took a heavy toll of gasoline from the Martins’ truck with its pop-top and large frontal area. Great lunch at Misiõn Santa Isabel restaurant in San Quintin. Gas in El Rosario.
It has been several years since my last trip down Mex 1, and a lot of memories came up as we passed side roads to places we’d visited on previous trips over a period of 40 years.
At 3:00 we were off the highway a few miles north of Cataviña and started following Neal’s directions to his location. The directions Bob had were pretty good, but he had to make a guess at one or two Y’s. Luckily, he guessed right.
Found the Johns by 3:30. They acted as if they were happy to see us.
The truck was heading downhill on a little bank into a 50-ft wide wash. The front tires didn’t line up very well, the left having fallen over on its side when the ball joint failed. We used the floor jack to raise the truck and jack stands for safety before we started working on it.
The failure was in the socket which “uncaptured” its ball, allowing the ball to pull free. The ball, mounted on a tapered pin, had to be removed before we could install the new assembly.
We could not remove the old part. Toyota people had told us all we needed in the way of special tools was a large hammer to break the tight fit between the tapered pin and its sleeve. The Toyota Manual recommends use of a rugged, special “puller” tool which uses a strong screw to push the pin out of the tapered sleeve.
We supported the pin using Neal’s light hydraulic jack while we beat and beat on the sleeve, to no avail. We tried heating the sleeve so that it would expand away from the pin and hit it some more; that didn’t work either. We tried hitting down on the sleeve using a bar; that didn’t work either. We finally quit working just before dark. It was pretty clear that we needed either a better tool, or more smarts on balljoint removal, or both.
Spent the night in my tent to avoid the blowing sand. Slept well.
In the morning, Neal and Bob figured out a way, using a steel dog leash, to lash the ball joint together to, maybe, get us to Cataviña for help.
We started out, and the dog’s leash failed right away, so they found some small chain that was stronger and looked like it would work just about as well, maybe better. That lash-up worked O.K.
Drove 5 or 6 miles at about 5 mph (plus stops to check the lash-up) to the La Virgen Shrine on the old main dirt road where we decided to hold up because it is quite easy to get to and has a nice flat, firm, working area.
Neal and I left the others at the Shrine while we drove my truck 6 miles to Cataviña to find a mechanic on Sunday. The guy in the tire shop across from the La Pinta hotel said he couldn’t help us, but he had a friend who was a good mechanic who lived in a nearby rancho.
Neal asked the tire guy to guide him to his friend’s rancho. The tire guy said O.K. and closed up his shop, and they took off in my truck. I stayed at the café next door to the tire shop and sipped on agua purificada while Neal and the tire guy rounded up the mechanic.
They returned in a very short while, along with the mechanic, Pancho, in his own truck.
Pancho did not want to drive his truck into the back country, so we took him, with Neal sitting/lying comfortably on the console of my truck. The mechanic asked if we had tools and we said “yes” but Pancho still wanted his BIG HAMMER, which he brought along.
When we returned to the Shrine and the Johns’ truck. We jacked up the chassis, removed the left front tire, and set the safety jack stands. Pancho wanted a solid support for the pin before he started working on it, rejecting Neal’s small hydraulic jack in favor of my larger hydraulic jack.
He jacked up the pin and disappeared under the car with the BIG HAMMER. Bang, Bang, BANG! and the pin was free!
A few more minutes with conventional wrenches and sockets and the old part was out and the new one in place. The whole operation took 20 minutes or less. Apparently the secret is to have the pin very solidly supported and to hit down on the sleeve with the BIG HAMMER. My contribution to the operation was the amusement generated by my offer to supply a torque wrench for re-assembly to Toyota specs.
We all drove to Cataviña to return Pancho to his truck.
It was early afternoon, too late to return home, so the Johns offered to take us to a pretty canyon they had just found.
We decided to visit that canyon, crossing a broad wash that looked like a good campsite, where the Martins hunkered down while the Johns and I went on for some sight-seeing.
We parked at the mouth of the canyon and hiked half to three-quarters of a mile up the canyon, past a couple of tinajas (pools of water) and looked around at the many palm trees, including some up high, far from the water table. As advertised, it was a pretty canyon.
Returned to the wash with the Martins and set up camp. I called home, using Neal’s satellite phone, to tell Anna that we had found the Johns and fixed their truck and all was well but that I would not be home until Monday night. The wind was finally waning, so I slept comfortably on my cot, sans tent.
Up a few minutes after 5:00 the next morning, we broke camp early, and drove back to the old road where we separated; the Martins and I heading north along roads leading to the highway, and the Johns going the other way to continue their vacation.
We stopped briefly for a tailgate lunch by the El Palamar in Santo Tomas and made it through Ensenada to the Tecate border crossing by mid-afternoon, without any wrong turns. We waited about half an hour in line to return to the U.S.. After crossing, we exchanged our remaining pesos back to dollars, and the Martins headed west towards Otay Mesa to an RV campground they knew, while I went east to Campo, Ocotillo, and north on S2 and 79 to I-15 and the 210 in order to avoid the San Diego and LA traffic.
I arrived home about 11:00 Monday night after a helluva weekend.
