Boca de Soledad, Bahia Magdalena, Baja California Sur
The whales did not disappoint us today.
My father used to tell me that televised figure skating fails to convey to the viewer an appreciation for how much mass the skater is actually moving across the ice. After this morning’s outing, I can report that watching a nature documentary similarly fails to convey an appreciation for the magnitude of moving mass involved in a mating ritual amongst three 40 ton gray whales. Descriptions of whales tend to exhaust the list of superlatives, so I will forego the euphemisms for “large” here and simply quote a fellow passenger on my Zodiac who uttered, “Well, that puts things into perspective.”
Afterwards, we encountered the same mother and calf whom we had encountered the previous afternoon. Today, however, they brought two more curious visitors – another mother and calf pair who also swam up to the Zodiacs. Our photo today is of one of the calves just under the water’s surface as it passed underneath us. I positioned myself as far back as I could, with my bottom hanging past the transom, trying to capture a photo of my mother and one of the adult whales. It was at this point, naturally, that one of the babies decided that surfacing underneath me and exhaling whale spray all over my backside would be a good idea.
In the afternoon whale outing, we intercepted the animals as they reentered the Bahia Magdalena through the Boca de Soledad, having swum out to the Pacific during the middle of the day. The Boca was flush with cruising whale traffic, as over a dozen whales lumbered by our Zodiac.
With two hours to go before our Mexican seafood fiesta dinner, I went for a run along the long beach on the barrier island bordering the Bahia. The rusting remnants of a fishing vessel, run aground last year, poked out of the sand where two years ago I had run by the remains of a beached adolescent gray whale. It provided an eerie sentinel landmark on an otherwise desolate featureless beach by which I could gauge my progress as I approached.
It’s been only 48 hours since we boarded the Sea Bird, but it’s hard to imagine anything outdoing what we’ve experienced so far.
The whales did not disappoint us today.
My father used to tell me that televised figure skating fails to convey to the viewer an appreciation for how much mass the skater is actually moving across the ice. After this morning’s outing, I can report that watching a nature documentary similarly fails to convey an appreciation for the magnitude of moving mass involved in a mating ritual amongst three 40 ton gray whales. Descriptions of whales tend to exhaust the list of superlatives, so I will forego the euphemisms for “large” here and simply quote a fellow passenger on my Zodiac who uttered, “Well, that puts things into perspective.”
Afterwards, we encountered the same mother and calf whom we had encountered the previous afternoon. Today, however, they brought two more curious visitors – another mother and calf pair who also swam up to the Zodiacs. Our photo today is of one of the calves just under the water’s surface as it passed underneath us. I positioned myself as far back as I could, with my bottom hanging past the transom, trying to capture a photo of my mother and one of the adult whales. It was at this point, naturally, that one of the babies decided that surfacing underneath me and exhaling whale spray all over my backside would be a good idea.
In the afternoon whale outing, we intercepted the animals as they reentered the Bahia Magdalena through the Boca de Soledad, having swum out to the Pacific during the middle of the day. The Boca was flush with cruising whale traffic, as over a dozen whales lumbered by our Zodiac.
With two hours to go before our Mexican seafood fiesta dinner, I went for a run along the long beach on the barrier island bordering the Bahia. The rusting remnants of a fishing vessel, run aground last year, poked out of the sand where two years ago I had run by the remains of a beached adolescent gray whale. It provided an eerie sentinel landmark on an otherwise desolate featureless beach by which I could gauge my progress as I approached.
It’s been only 48 hours since we boarded the Sea Bird, but it’s hard to imagine anything outdoing what we’ve experienced so far.
