El Barril, Magdalena Bay & The Pacific Ocean
During the night our vessel sat calmly at anchor, our sleep unfettered by swells or wind-driven chop. At dawn The National Geographic Sea Lion weighed anchor and plied a course due south through Devil’s Bend and Hull Canal towards the southern reaches of Magdalena Bay across a millpond-smooth stretch of protected waters. The sky was overcast, and the winds – non-existent. Our morning’s destination was the mangrove forest of El Barril. On the eve of a full-blown spring tide the day’s early waters were high, covering all threatening sand bars and shoals, and offered a golden opportunity to penetrate deep within the mangroves.
After dropping anchor Zodiacs and the entire compliment of our vessel’s sea kayaks were launched to propel us to extended and deep exploration of El Barril’s mangrove habitat. Mangroves, throughout the world where they occur in tropical climes, are biological land-builders of the first order, the dense thicket and formidable, highly-specialized roots providing habitat for numerous critters and capturing sediment that expands coastlines.
All kayaks were launched from a small beach a short reach towards the interior from the mangrove edge, while the zodiac cruise took a direct course into the heart of this unique and somewhat isolated ecological zone. Our first foray with the kayaks, though technically a bit of a challenge (but easily and quickly mastered), gave all who were willing the opportunity for a stealth-like and quiet, though albeit, slow approach through the mangrove channels, while the Zodiac cruise carved a course into this system’s most trenchant corners. Red mangroves (Rhizophora sp.) were the dominant foliage, though white mangrove trees were also conspicuous.
As dawn expanded into day and the sun climbed the ladder of sky - temperatures rose, forcing many bird species to seek refuge in the coolness of the dense thicket. As Zodiacs and kayaks explored the narrow waterways a few of the more apparently heat-tolerant species appeared. Scrub jays flew to the tops of the trees. The occasional Belted kingfishers flew arrow-straight along the channels just a few feet above the water’s surface, and Mangrove warblers flitted in and out of the mangrove edges, offering fleeting glimpses during their short flights. At the upper end of the mangrove forest the foliage abruptly gave way to low scrub and sand dunes. Close to the Pacific Ocean, and with the tide beginning to ebb, we could progress no farther and returned to the National Geographic Sea Lion. Emerging from the forest and with our vessel in sight, our final stretch revealed an environment undergoing rapid change. What was covered by water only hours before was suddenly exposed real estate, frequented by numerous shorebirds. Long-billed curlews, Black-bellied plovers, and Marbled godwits, probed at the sand in search of mid-day meals.
During our own lunch the National Geographic Sea Lion left through La Entrada, the main entrance into Magdalena Bay and into the Pacific Ocean. Before long a large contingent of Common dolphins approached from all quarters and marshaled around our vessel, their numbers in the hundreds, to ride the bow and stern waves of our ship. Shortly thereafter our first Humpback whale was spotted. It sounded and rose to the surface repeatedly as the bridge crew deftly and sensitively approached the leviathan, framing it against the ochre-colored ramparts of Baja California’s western side. Having given us a show, the denizen of the deep disappeared into the great liquid expanse. A crimson tide of light began to sweep our day into night.
During the night our vessel sat calmly at anchor, our sleep unfettered by swells or wind-driven chop. At dawn The National Geographic Sea Lion weighed anchor and plied a course due south through Devil’s Bend and Hull Canal towards the southern reaches of Magdalena Bay across a millpond-smooth stretch of protected waters. The sky was overcast, and the winds – non-existent. Our morning’s destination was the mangrove forest of El Barril. On the eve of a full-blown spring tide the day’s early waters were high, covering all threatening sand bars and shoals, and offered a golden opportunity to penetrate deep within the mangroves.
After dropping anchor Zodiacs and the entire compliment of our vessel’s sea kayaks were launched to propel us to extended and deep exploration of El Barril’s mangrove habitat. Mangroves, throughout the world where they occur in tropical climes, are biological land-builders of the first order, the dense thicket and formidable, highly-specialized roots providing habitat for numerous critters and capturing sediment that expands coastlines.
All kayaks were launched from a small beach a short reach towards the interior from the mangrove edge, while the zodiac cruise took a direct course into the heart of this unique and somewhat isolated ecological zone. Our first foray with the kayaks, though technically a bit of a challenge (but easily and quickly mastered), gave all who were willing the opportunity for a stealth-like and quiet, though albeit, slow approach through the mangrove channels, while the Zodiac cruise carved a course into this system’s most trenchant corners. Red mangroves (Rhizophora sp.) were the dominant foliage, though white mangrove trees were also conspicuous.
As dawn expanded into day and the sun climbed the ladder of sky - temperatures rose, forcing many bird species to seek refuge in the coolness of the dense thicket. As Zodiacs and kayaks explored the narrow waterways a few of the more apparently heat-tolerant species appeared. Scrub jays flew to the tops of the trees. The occasional Belted kingfishers flew arrow-straight along the channels just a few feet above the water’s surface, and Mangrove warblers flitted in and out of the mangrove edges, offering fleeting glimpses during their short flights. At the upper end of the mangrove forest the foliage abruptly gave way to low scrub and sand dunes. Close to the Pacific Ocean, and with the tide beginning to ebb, we could progress no farther and returned to the National Geographic Sea Lion. Emerging from the forest and with our vessel in sight, our final stretch revealed an environment undergoing rapid change. What was covered by water only hours before was suddenly exposed real estate, frequented by numerous shorebirds. Long-billed curlews, Black-bellied plovers, and Marbled godwits, probed at the sand in search of mid-day meals.
During our own lunch the National Geographic Sea Lion left through La Entrada, the main entrance into Magdalena Bay and into the Pacific Ocean. Before long a large contingent of Common dolphins approached from all quarters and marshaled around our vessel, their numbers in the hundreds, to ride the bow and stern waves of our ship. Shortly thereafter our first Humpback whale was spotted. It sounded and rose to the surface repeatedly as the bridge crew deftly and sensitively approached the leviathan, framing it against the ochre-colored ramparts of Baja California’s western side. Having given us a show, the denizen of the deep disappeared into the great liquid expanse. A crimson tide of light began to sweep our day into night.
