Punta Colorada on Isla San Jose
Even before the sun came up, the dedicated photographers were in the Zodiacs heading for the shore. The landing was on a granite cobble beach surrounded by cross-bedded sandstone cliffs colored like orange sherbet and vanilla ice cream. We scattered about, each of us looking for the perfect picture. The stone cliffs had been eroded into fanciful shapes that provided interest to a landscape shot. Some of us took close ups of the imbedded fossils or huddled masses of snails or abstracts of smooth rounded pebbles trapped in cracks within the rough sandstone.
We returned to the Sea Bird for breakfast and a short slide-illustrated talk on filters by our guest speaker Richard Maack but were soon back on shore to explore the arroyo running up into the mountains. Hikes of various lengths were offered. And most of us learned a little about the natural wonders of the Sonoran Desert. Delicate palo blancos, twisted elephant trees, stout agaves, and a variety of cacti lined the sandy arroyo. The lushness of the plants and the appearance of wildflowers indicated that rain had fallen here not too long ago in this usually desiccated land.
Zebra-tailed, whiptails, side-blotched, and desert iguana lizards scampered away as we walked up the wash. At one point, a handsome plump chuckwalla posed on a rocky outcrop. Our ears detected a number of birdcalls and songs. The three chips of the tiny verdin drifted through the dry air. White-throated swifts laughed and darted far above us. Higher yet, turkey vultures and one lone red-tailed hawk soared on invisible rising thermals. Male house finches in their red-headed finest sang from the tops of the cardon.
Afternoon plans for kayaking and snorkeling were cancelled when the sea freshened a bit. However, our ever-creative expedition leader, Ralph Lee Hopkins, came up with a most satisfactory Plan B – whale watching.
As we steamed away from the west side of Isla San Jose, all eyes scanned the distant horizon for spouts. We didn’t have to wait long for the action to begin. Bottlenose dolphins magically appeared. Several swam toward us and enjoyed a free ride on the ship’s bow pressure wave. One dolphin did its best Flipper imitation by leaping several times high into the air.
Then whale blows were spotted. Several fin whales repeatedly surfaced, blew, and dove. A couple of the dolphins seemed to be “bow riding” one of the whales. After awhile, the action slowed down, and we resumed our watch. The rigors of searching for marine life were interrupted by a feeding frenzy on the bow. Chris Deyoung, the hotel manager brought up a cooler of Mexican popcicles for everyone.
More whale blows were sighted against the high rugged cliffs of the Baja peninsula so the Sea Bird turned to check them out. One blow was exceptionally tall and bushy, a potential blue whale. By the time we reached the location, scuds of clouds filtered the late afternoon sun into great golden rays that danced upon the desert and seascape. Photographers were warned of an imminent “Kodak moment.” But instead of a blue whale in the sunset, a Bryde’s whale made a brief appearance.
As the sun slid behind the escarpment of the Sierra de la Giganta and a sliver of a new moon smiled down on our tiny ship, we gathered on the aft deck for an impromptu barbecue. We anchored near a lonely beautiful beach on the West Side of Isla San Jose, not far, as the yellow-footed gull flies, from where we began our day. The photographic opportunities, the interpretive walks, the extraordinary wildlife viewing, and delicious dinner more than satisfied our desires and appetites.
Even before the sun came up, the dedicated photographers were in the Zodiacs heading for the shore. The landing was on a granite cobble beach surrounded by cross-bedded sandstone cliffs colored like orange sherbet and vanilla ice cream. We scattered about, each of us looking for the perfect picture. The stone cliffs had been eroded into fanciful shapes that provided interest to a landscape shot. Some of us took close ups of the imbedded fossils or huddled masses of snails or abstracts of smooth rounded pebbles trapped in cracks within the rough sandstone.
We returned to the Sea Bird for breakfast and a short slide-illustrated talk on filters by our guest speaker Richard Maack but were soon back on shore to explore the arroyo running up into the mountains. Hikes of various lengths were offered. And most of us learned a little about the natural wonders of the Sonoran Desert. Delicate palo blancos, twisted elephant trees, stout agaves, and a variety of cacti lined the sandy arroyo. The lushness of the plants and the appearance of wildflowers indicated that rain had fallen here not too long ago in this usually desiccated land.
Zebra-tailed, whiptails, side-blotched, and desert iguana lizards scampered away as we walked up the wash. At one point, a handsome plump chuckwalla posed on a rocky outcrop. Our ears detected a number of birdcalls and songs. The three chips of the tiny verdin drifted through the dry air. White-throated swifts laughed and darted far above us. Higher yet, turkey vultures and one lone red-tailed hawk soared on invisible rising thermals. Male house finches in their red-headed finest sang from the tops of the cardon.
Afternoon plans for kayaking and snorkeling were cancelled when the sea freshened a bit. However, our ever-creative expedition leader, Ralph Lee Hopkins, came up with a most satisfactory Plan B – whale watching.
As we steamed away from the west side of Isla San Jose, all eyes scanned the distant horizon for spouts. We didn’t have to wait long for the action to begin. Bottlenose dolphins magically appeared. Several swam toward us and enjoyed a free ride on the ship’s bow pressure wave. One dolphin did its best Flipper imitation by leaping several times high into the air.
Then whale blows were spotted. Several fin whales repeatedly surfaced, blew, and dove. A couple of the dolphins seemed to be “bow riding” one of the whales. After awhile, the action slowed down, and we resumed our watch. The rigors of searching for marine life were interrupted by a feeding frenzy on the bow. Chris Deyoung, the hotel manager brought up a cooler of Mexican popcicles for everyone.
More whale blows were sighted against the high rugged cliffs of the Baja peninsula so the Sea Bird turned to check them out. One blow was exceptionally tall and bushy, a potential blue whale. By the time we reached the location, scuds of clouds filtered the late afternoon sun into great golden rays that danced upon the desert and seascape. Photographers were warned of an imminent “Kodak moment.” But instead of a blue whale in the sunset, a Bryde’s whale made a brief appearance.
As the sun slid behind the escarpment of the Sierra de la Giganta and a sliver of a new moon smiled down on our tiny ship, we gathered on the aft deck for an impromptu barbecue. We anchored near a lonely beautiful beach on the West Side of Isla San Jose, not far, as the yellow-footed gull flies, from where we began our day. The photographic opportunities, the interpretive walks, the extraordinary wildlife viewing, and delicious dinner more than satisfied our desires and appetites.
