Magdalena Bay
What do you do on the National Geographic Sea Bird when you awake in Magdalena Bay and it’s overcast and gray? Head out in Zodiacs and look for gray whales, of course! Sure we would have liked sun, but actually whale watching is a lot easier when you aren’t blinded by the glare of the sun ribbon on the water and the intense flashes of sunlight on the wave crests. And we weren’t out long before we made our first sightings of mother-calf pairs slowly cruising the bay. Because the whales were late to arrive this year we estimated that the calves we saw were not more than a week old. At a distance it’s sometimes hard to appreciate the size of these animals, but when a baby gray whale crosses your bow or dives under your Zodiac you quickly realize that these youngsters really are 15 feet long and weigh a full ton. And yes, even at this size they are very cute!
As we followed their lazy meanderings through the bay we all had a chance to watch these behemoths surface and blow repeatedly, often at close range. Those who were fortunate to be at the right place at the right time watched a whale "spy-hopping" – orienting its body vertically in the water and poking its head through the surface for several seconds – a behavior that is thought to be simply a whale’s way of checking out its surroundings above the water. Some of us were even treated to a baby’s version of spy hopping – surfacing to blow and then rolling on its side to get a better look at us before fully submerging with its flukes oriented vertically. It was deeply satisfying to realize that, for these whales, neither we nor our Zodiacs pose a threat and that they probably perceive us as just another oddity of the surface world – that razor-thin interface between their realm and ours.
But all good things must end, and by the time we set off for our afternoon Zodiac cruises most of the whales had temporarily left the bay. ¡Qué lástima! But it’s easy to be adaptable in a beautiful setting such as this, and we turned our attention to the magnificent bird life along the shoreline mangroves and tidal flats. Among the many cormorants, pelicans, gulls, and a large flight of brants, we saw reddish egrets, yellow-crowned night herons, great blue herons, American oystercatchers, and marbled godwits. Back on board a sharp-eyed birder even spotted a Pacific loon not far from the ship. The afternoon ended with the usual delectable hors d’oeuvres in the lounge, today accompanied by the guitars and voices of Los Coyotes, a singing group from the nearby town of Adolfo Lopez Mateos, who serenaded us with traditional Mexican songs.
All in all, a fine day. And maybe our whales (like some of us) are especially fond of the early morning. We’re sure to find out, because we’re going back out in our Zodiacs at 7:00 am tomorrow morning. Stay tuned.
What do you do on the National Geographic Sea Bird when you awake in Magdalena Bay and it’s overcast and gray? Head out in Zodiacs and look for gray whales, of course! Sure we would have liked sun, but actually whale watching is a lot easier when you aren’t blinded by the glare of the sun ribbon on the water and the intense flashes of sunlight on the wave crests. And we weren’t out long before we made our first sightings of mother-calf pairs slowly cruising the bay. Because the whales were late to arrive this year we estimated that the calves we saw were not more than a week old. At a distance it’s sometimes hard to appreciate the size of these animals, but when a baby gray whale crosses your bow or dives under your Zodiac you quickly realize that these youngsters really are 15 feet long and weigh a full ton. And yes, even at this size they are very cute!
As we followed their lazy meanderings through the bay we all had a chance to watch these behemoths surface and blow repeatedly, often at close range. Those who were fortunate to be at the right place at the right time watched a whale "spy-hopping" – orienting its body vertically in the water and poking its head through the surface for several seconds – a behavior that is thought to be simply a whale’s way of checking out its surroundings above the water. Some of us were even treated to a baby’s version of spy hopping – surfacing to blow and then rolling on its side to get a better look at us before fully submerging with its flukes oriented vertically. It was deeply satisfying to realize that, for these whales, neither we nor our Zodiacs pose a threat and that they probably perceive us as just another oddity of the surface world – that razor-thin interface between their realm and ours.
But all good things must end, and by the time we set off for our afternoon Zodiac cruises most of the whales had temporarily left the bay. ¡Qué lástima! But it’s easy to be adaptable in a beautiful setting such as this, and we turned our attention to the magnificent bird life along the shoreline mangroves and tidal flats. Among the many cormorants, pelicans, gulls, and a large flight of brants, we saw reddish egrets, yellow-crowned night herons, great blue herons, American oystercatchers, and marbled godwits. Back on board a sharp-eyed birder even spotted a Pacific loon not far from the ship. The afternoon ended with the usual delectable hors d’oeuvres in the lounge, today accompanied by the guitars and voices of Los Coyotes, a singing group from the nearby town of Adolfo Lopez Mateos, who serenaded us with traditional Mexican songs.
All in all, a fine day. And maybe our whales (like some of us) are especially fond of the early morning. We’re sure to find out, because we’re going back out in our Zodiacs at 7:00 am tomorrow morning. Stay tuned.
