Isla Magdalena & South to Los Cabos
This is the tale of a little blue and white ship that has started on an incredible journey. Here is a summary of their adventures thus far…
A morning on Isla Magdalena, following tracks, printed in the sand
Say, why is Linda always taking close up pictures of footprints next to her hand?
For comparison and showing scale, that’s why the hand’s where it’s at
Although she rarely puts it there, when photographing piles of scat.
Bones, feathers, tracks and a coyote’s casual sideways glance
Barchan dunes with fragile slip faces, sand grains held in tenuous balance.
The Pacific said Jack was its namesake, not living up to its reputation
Setting those at ease that had been worried, there’s no need for trepidation.
Specular highlights glinting, off water, rolling waves and foamy sea
Never mind using compensation, Rikki said let the little blinkies be.
A stinky little Minke raced about, heading first to and then backtracking fro
Looking all around and behind us, we never knew quite where it’d go.
Surrounded by blue whales feeding, a spectacular and rarely seen treat,
From their chin to their innie navels, they expanded all their throat pleats.
Tiny winged Phalarope confetti, sprinkled flying nervously about
Amongst the floating mist of blue whales, exhaled thirty-foot spouts!
They sprayed, we reached, we splashed, with all of our human strength
But playful little gray whales, know exactly Homo sapiens arm length.
Gray whale snot must be therapeutic, for the soul as well as for the skin
For those thoroughly covered and coated, returned shipboard with enormous grins.
The beach held many treasures, colorful shells, elegant birds and bleached bones
We gathered them as pixels, and that’s how we’ll take them home.
Marbled godwits probed eagerly and deeply, for invertebrates buried in the sand
Their long beaks grabbing breakfast, like delicate fingers on a slender hand.
A pelican paddled pacifically, amongst a red floating patch of krill,
It threw its head back swallowing, working on eating its fill.
Flying fish skittered scaredly, across the tops of white-capped waves,
From the depths perhaps a hungry predator, was stalking this tiny winged prey.
From a crescent moon to the horizon, we scanned for a fluke or a blow,
But whales this afternoon remained elusive, and stubbornly stayed hiding below.
We are not even half through our voyage, or this iambic pentametered tale,
But it surely will be unique and memorable, like the fluke print of a great humpback whale.
If tales of our voyage thus far make you salivate, palpitate or just simply drool
Keep in mind on the calendar today’s date, and ponder being an April’s Fool.
This is the tale of a little blue and white ship that has started on an incredible journey. Here is a summary of their adventures thus far…
A morning on Isla Magdalena, following tracks, printed in the sand
Say, why is Linda always taking close up pictures of footprints next to her hand?
For comparison and showing scale, that’s why the hand’s where it’s at
Although she rarely puts it there, when photographing piles of scat.
Bones, feathers, tracks and a coyote’s casual sideways glance
Barchan dunes with fragile slip faces, sand grains held in tenuous balance.
The Pacific said Jack was its namesake, not living up to its reputation
Setting those at ease that had been worried, there’s no need for trepidation.
Specular highlights glinting, off water, rolling waves and foamy sea
Never mind using compensation, Rikki said let the little blinkies be.
A stinky little Minke raced about, heading first to and then backtracking fro
Looking all around and behind us, we never knew quite where it’d go.
Surrounded by blue whales feeding, a spectacular and rarely seen treat,
From their chin to their innie navels, they expanded all their throat pleats.
Tiny winged Phalarope confetti, sprinkled flying nervously about
Amongst the floating mist of blue whales, exhaled thirty-foot spouts!
They sprayed, we reached, we splashed, with all of our human strength
But playful little gray whales, know exactly Homo sapiens arm length.
Gray whale snot must be therapeutic, for the soul as well as for the skin
For those thoroughly covered and coated, returned shipboard with enormous grins.
The beach held many treasures, colorful shells, elegant birds and bleached bones
We gathered them as pixels, and that’s how we’ll take them home.
Marbled godwits probed eagerly and deeply, for invertebrates buried in the sand
Their long beaks grabbing breakfast, like delicate fingers on a slender hand.
A pelican paddled pacifically, amongst a red floating patch of krill,
It threw its head back swallowing, working on eating its fill.
Flying fish skittered scaredly, across the tops of white-capped waves,
From the depths perhaps a hungry predator, was stalking this tiny winged prey.
From a crescent moon to the horizon, we scanned for a fluke or a blow,
But whales this afternoon remained elusive, and stubbornly stayed hiding below.
We are not even half through our voyage, or this iambic pentametered tale,
But it surely will be unique and memorable, like the fluke print of a great humpback whale.
If tales of our voyage thus far make you salivate, palpitate or just simply drool
Keep in mind on the calendar today’s date, and ponder being an April’s Fool.
