Isla Partida
In the pre-dawn hours the National Geographic Sea Lion hoisted the pick and steamed slowly south towards the Espiritu Santo Archipelago. Dawn came with an almost mythical play of light, recounted in numerous sea yarns of yore, passed down through the ages from tar to skeptical landlubber as rare but real – the green flash. Low atmospheric moisture, virtually zero particulate matter, and a sky as clear as crystal allowed for the early risers to view this phenomenon at sunrise. Non-believers were converted at dawn. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the mercury began to rise. The day was going to be a stunner.
During breakfast our vessel anchored in the small cove Ensenada Grande on the northwest side of Isla Partida. Kayaks and Zodiacs were deployed to the beach for our morning excursion. Hikes of varying intensity were offered. The island, a foundation constructed from ancient volcanic activity, was rich in desert flora. Various cacti species, fig trees (Ficus sp.), and numerous species of wildflowers dotted the landscape along all hiking excursions. Across the sands and on rocks and the branches of shrubbery long-tailed skinks and a variety of other desert lizards gave us fleeting glimpses of their form. From the beach all hikes moved up a rain-washed drainage towards the island’s ridgeline. After a spell the shallow canyon’s sides became to steep and unstable to safely negotiate and we all returned at leisure to the beach. Kayakers offered all willing the opportunity to explore the coastline in the most intimate way possible – slowly and quietly. The rock formations were unique and impressive – the odd formations the result of pyroclastic mud and ash flows from a bygone geological era, which had been weathered by the sea and time.
Afternoon brought a change in sky, and with it, forthcoming activities. High cirrus clouds brush-stroked the blue canvas of sky. A light breeze began to blow from the north, and temperatures dropped a few degrees. The result was a pleasantly cool, Mediterranean-like climate. Conditions were ideal for a Zodiac cruise and optional snorkel just offshore of Los Islotes, a volcanic islet a short sail from Ensenada Grande, and one of thirteen breeding colonies of California sea lions in the Sea of Cortez. The islet’s reddish rocks were conspicuously painted in streaks of white - the result of brown pelicans obeying nature’s call while reposing from flight. At present a few tropical cormorants and blue-footed boobies dotted the rocks’ higher reaches, while a small cabal of turkey vultures dined on a sea lion carcass near shore.
However, it was the sea lions, a few large males guarding their harems and the territory they occupied that provided the day’s greatest thrill. Zodiac cruisers had the opportunity to view them, but the intrepid snorkels, who braved the somewhat chilly waters, were the ones who communed with them in their element. The interaction was up-close and personal – the memories, one of a kind. Returning to our ship it was the apparent last episode in a chain of memorable experiences which the natural history of Baja California had provided. However, Baja was not done with us yet. Heading south towards La Paz, under a waning sun and deepening sky, we were afforded one last round of shared time with manta rays occasionally breaking the surface, and with the largest, and perhaps, most glorious of marine mammals – blue whales. On that note even the most voracious natural history appetite was sated.
In the pre-dawn hours the National Geographic Sea Lion hoisted the pick and steamed slowly south towards the Espiritu Santo Archipelago. Dawn came with an almost mythical play of light, recounted in numerous sea yarns of yore, passed down through the ages from tar to skeptical landlubber as rare but real – the green flash. Low atmospheric moisture, virtually zero particulate matter, and a sky as clear as crystal allowed for the early risers to view this phenomenon at sunrise. Non-believers were converted at dawn. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the mercury began to rise. The day was going to be a stunner.
During breakfast our vessel anchored in the small cove Ensenada Grande on the northwest side of Isla Partida. Kayaks and Zodiacs were deployed to the beach for our morning excursion. Hikes of varying intensity were offered. The island, a foundation constructed from ancient volcanic activity, was rich in desert flora. Various cacti species, fig trees (Ficus sp.), and numerous species of wildflowers dotted the landscape along all hiking excursions. Across the sands and on rocks and the branches of shrubbery long-tailed skinks and a variety of other desert lizards gave us fleeting glimpses of their form. From the beach all hikes moved up a rain-washed drainage towards the island’s ridgeline. After a spell the shallow canyon’s sides became to steep and unstable to safely negotiate and we all returned at leisure to the beach. Kayakers offered all willing the opportunity to explore the coastline in the most intimate way possible – slowly and quietly. The rock formations were unique and impressive – the odd formations the result of pyroclastic mud and ash flows from a bygone geological era, which had been weathered by the sea and time.
Afternoon brought a change in sky, and with it, forthcoming activities. High cirrus clouds brush-stroked the blue canvas of sky. A light breeze began to blow from the north, and temperatures dropped a few degrees. The result was a pleasantly cool, Mediterranean-like climate. Conditions were ideal for a Zodiac cruise and optional snorkel just offshore of Los Islotes, a volcanic islet a short sail from Ensenada Grande, and one of thirteen breeding colonies of California sea lions in the Sea of Cortez. The islet’s reddish rocks were conspicuously painted in streaks of white - the result of brown pelicans obeying nature’s call while reposing from flight. At present a few tropical cormorants and blue-footed boobies dotted the rocks’ higher reaches, while a small cabal of turkey vultures dined on a sea lion carcass near shore.
However, it was the sea lions, a few large males guarding their harems and the territory they occupied that provided the day’s greatest thrill. Zodiac cruisers had the opportunity to view them, but the intrepid snorkels, who braved the somewhat chilly waters, were the ones who communed with them in their element. The interaction was up-close and personal – the memories, one of a kind. Returning to our ship it was the apparent last episode in a chain of memorable experiences which the natural history of Baja California had provided. However, Baja was not done with us yet. Heading south towards La Paz, under a waning sun and deepening sky, we were afforded one last round of shared time with manta rays occasionally breaking the surface, and with the largest, and perhaps, most glorious of marine mammals – blue whales. On that note even the most voracious natural history appetite was sated.
