Stressed-Out California Sea Lion at Los Islotes
Oh, Los Islotes! This tiny speck of an island is land’s first line of defense against the onslaught of the sea. Rough weather and the swells of a thousand storms have sculpted volcanic tuff into turrets, crenulated ramparts, and imposing walls. Seabirds, the sentinels of this fortress, have whitewashed its walls so that it shines as if after a freak snowstorm.
We approached Los Islotes early in the morning and dropped anchor just before breakfast. Soon we boarded Zodiacs to give the island a closer look. We saw gulls with yellow feet and boobies with blue ones. We saw frigatebirds, lithe in motion and dastardly in intent. We saw vultures picking at the tattered remains of some sad carcass. Yet the stars of the show were sea lions. California sea lions gather from far and wide to make Los Islotes their home. And while the ‘lions may be hard at work on their fishing grounds, ashore they seem devoted to a life of ease. We found sea lions draped over the rocks, so abandoned in relaxation as to appear utterly boneless. If any of these sea lions were truly asleep, then they can sleep through outrageous cacophony. Though most comfortable in tangled heap, sea lions can’t seem to coexist without constant noisy bickering. We heard goofy hound dog barks and agonized trumpeting bellows, all seemingly delivered at maximum volume.
Sea lions move awkwardly on land. A fast-moving ‘lion resembles a prize-fight in a tightly-synched sleeping bag. Yet in the water they are transformed into beings of astonishing grace. They gallop, pirouette and soar like turbo-charged ballerinas. We donned snorkel gear to interact with the sea lions in their own element. The juveniles were particularly entertaining. Seemingly bored with the staid lifestyle of their elders, are game for any sort of diversion, and apparently the sudden arrival of two score of garishly clad humans will just have to do. Like frisky puppies, they raced in to say hello, raced away in mock-bashfulness, then returned to tug at our flippers. To share fun with wild animals – what could be better?!
Motoring south, we encountered more whales. From our lunch tables, we saw a whale surfacing over and over, but by the time we turned the ship and went to the bow, it became more elusive. Its sleek form and grey color suggested a Bryde’s whale, but we couldn’t tell for sure. We had no trouble identifying our next whale. Huge and dappled in pale grey, this was clearly a blue whale. After surfacing several times, the whale lifted its huge tail in farewell salute. The slow inexorable grace of this maneuver cannot be described, it can only be remembered. Less than twenty percent of blues show their tails, so seeing this was as lucky as it was beautiful.
By mid-afternoon we reached the southern end of Isla Espiritu Santo. We landed on a beautiful white sand beach. Soon many of us were in kayaks, skimming over the cool water and peering into its jade colored depths. Others went walking with naturalists into the desert. Besides the usual remarkable cacti, we found thick-limbed tiny-leaved trees, sculpted into natural bonsais by the tough conditions of the desert. We also found flower columns of agaves, decades in preparation, towering over the desert like giant asparagus stalks.
As evening fell, we returned to the beach to find a dinner barbecue waiting for us. We enjoyed steak and mahi mahi. We also experienced the variability of desert temperature! Though sometimes hot in the day, deserts typically cool quickly at night, and we clustered gratefully around the mesquite fire. And at last, we returned to the National Geographic Sea Bird under Orion’s arc.
In, on and under the water, very wet and very dry, warm and cool, what a variety of experience we had today!
Oh, Los Islotes! This tiny speck of an island is land’s first line of defense against the onslaught of the sea. Rough weather and the swells of a thousand storms have sculpted volcanic tuff into turrets, crenulated ramparts, and imposing walls. Seabirds, the sentinels of this fortress, have whitewashed its walls so that it shines as if after a freak snowstorm.
We approached Los Islotes early in the morning and dropped anchor just before breakfast. Soon we boarded Zodiacs to give the island a closer look. We saw gulls with yellow feet and boobies with blue ones. We saw frigatebirds, lithe in motion and dastardly in intent. We saw vultures picking at the tattered remains of some sad carcass. Yet the stars of the show were sea lions. California sea lions gather from far and wide to make Los Islotes their home. And while the ‘lions may be hard at work on their fishing grounds, ashore they seem devoted to a life of ease. We found sea lions draped over the rocks, so abandoned in relaxation as to appear utterly boneless. If any of these sea lions were truly asleep, then they can sleep through outrageous cacophony. Though most comfortable in tangled heap, sea lions can’t seem to coexist without constant noisy bickering. We heard goofy hound dog barks and agonized trumpeting bellows, all seemingly delivered at maximum volume.
Sea lions move awkwardly on land. A fast-moving ‘lion resembles a prize-fight in a tightly-synched sleeping bag. Yet in the water they are transformed into beings of astonishing grace. They gallop, pirouette and soar like turbo-charged ballerinas. We donned snorkel gear to interact with the sea lions in their own element. The juveniles were particularly entertaining. Seemingly bored with the staid lifestyle of their elders, are game for any sort of diversion, and apparently the sudden arrival of two score of garishly clad humans will just have to do. Like frisky puppies, they raced in to say hello, raced away in mock-bashfulness, then returned to tug at our flippers. To share fun with wild animals – what could be better?!
Motoring south, we encountered more whales. From our lunch tables, we saw a whale surfacing over and over, but by the time we turned the ship and went to the bow, it became more elusive. Its sleek form and grey color suggested a Bryde’s whale, but we couldn’t tell for sure. We had no trouble identifying our next whale. Huge and dappled in pale grey, this was clearly a blue whale. After surfacing several times, the whale lifted its huge tail in farewell salute. The slow inexorable grace of this maneuver cannot be described, it can only be remembered. Less than twenty percent of blues show their tails, so seeing this was as lucky as it was beautiful.
By mid-afternoon we reached the southern end of Isla Espiritu Santo. We landed on a beautiful white sand beach. Soon many of us were in kayaks, skimming over the cool water and peering into its jade colored depths. Others went walking with naturalists into the desert. Besides the usual remarkable cacti, we found thick-limbed tiny-leaved trees, sculpted into natural bonsais by the tough conditions of the desert. We also found flower columns of agaves, decades in preparation, towering over the desert like giant asparagus stalks.
As evening fell, we returned to the beach to find a dinner barbecue waiting for us. We enjoyed steak and mahi mahi. We also experienced the variability of desert temperature! Though sometimes hot in the day, deserts typically cool quickly at night, and we clustered gratefully around the mesquite fire. And at last, we returned to the National Geographic Sea Bird under Orion’s arc.
In, on and under the water, very wet and very dry, warm and cool, what a variety of experience we had today!
