Magdalena Bay
Favorable conditions and local knowledge are two of the most important factors when navigating through tight passages. Due to the morning fog, our local pilot and the Captain decided to delay our southbound journey until visibility increased, a wise decision since on most charts a ship this size shouldn’t be able to make it this far into Bahia Magdalena. As the fog retreated, the National Geographic Sea Bird was underway once again making its way through winding mangrove channels with the dunes of Isla Magdalena as a background.
As we progressed south and the waters widened, the excitement began to build. For many of us, this would be the first opportunity to watch gray whales at the south end of this expansive bay. At La Entrada, on the south end of Bahia Magdalena, we hoped to encounter animals that have become famous for their long migration and rebound from near extinction. By this time of the day the sun was bright and high and the winds were light; now all we needed was local knowledge. To accomplish this, pangeros, local fisherman and guides, were brought in from nearby San Carlos. Many of these mariners spend every day cruising the waters of this bay. Who else could be better at finding gray whales?
Soon after the Zodiacs left the National Geographic Sea Bird we found exactly what we’d hoped for. A keen eye could spot up to a dozen low, bushy blows spread out to the south. As our boat approached, the mottled skin of an animal that has just traveled up to 6,000 miles lay just ahead. The reason for this journey then came to the surface close to the boat. We laughed and watched this small gray whale, less than a month old, playfully roll over its mother and awkwardly lift its head out of the water. Protected from the Pacific Ocean in these shallow waters, the cow and calf pair will stay close together, building bonds and muscles that will hopefully take them to the Bering Sea in time to fatten up and do it all over again. But for this afternoon, the cold waters of the Bering Sea couldn’t have been further from our thoughts as we watched gray whales spyhop, roll on the surface and raise their young. It was a time of reflection and a time for observation.
What can a young whale growing up in a lagoon in Mexico, about to make the first of many journeys, teach us about the world we live in? What can a mother whale, seasoned in the ways of migration and motherhood, tell us about ourselves?
