Somewhere in the Gulf not far from Santa Rosalia
Today was an extraordinary day. No, it was an extra, extraordinary day. Sunrise found our little ship between the Isla of Tortuga and the soaring peaks of the Tres Virgenes volcanoes on the East Coast of the Baja peninsula. Before the morning’s caffeine could kick in, common dolphins were at play around the ship. After breakfast, Jack gave a video-illustrated talk on how to capture dolphins with a camera. As though on cue, dolphins reappeared after the lecture and shutter fingers began to be exercised. Bill dropped the hydrophone into the sea so we could listen in on the dolphins’ conversations.
Suddenly Lindy yelled, “red-billed tropicbird!” Binoc and camera lenses were pointed toward the slender white bird with its delicate, undulating elongated tail feathers. A few minutes later, another excited shout, “masked booby!” This bird is usually found much farther south of here so it’s an unusual sight.
As the action calmed and Linda was getting ready to talk to us about the “Signs of Life” – ways to detect the variety of animals that live around us by using tracks, scat and other clues – fin whales surfaced in front of the bow. And another round of viewing and picture taking commenced.
Eventually the whales disappeared and Linda began her lecture. But no sooner had she finished and we had emerged back on the bow, when Lindy screamed, “Laysan albatross!” Here was a bird normally only seen far out in the Pacific not in the Gulf. How odd and how wonderful that we should have two sightings of rare birds and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.
When we did go inside for lunch, more fin whales abruptly interrupted the meal. Film was being burned at record speed. All afternoon, whales toyed with us. Every time that it seemed things were quieting down, the whales would display some new behavior.
Then another outburst from the naturalists, “blue whale!” Several more blues were spotted. These, of course, are the largest mammals to have ever lived, sometimes achieving 100 feet in length.
What more could happen? Well, the fin whales began to lunge feed. Upon closer examination, we saw red squid popping up at the surface. Were they to become part of the whale’s meal? As though to answer our question, a huge gaping mouth and extended throat swept through the frantically swimming and jumping squid.
After hours out in the hot Baja sun, some of us were growing a little weary and a tad crispy, but it was difficult to pull ourselves away from the continuing cetacean spectacle. During a lull, the Sea Bird steamed ahead only to be brought to yet another stop by more whales. How many had we seen today? Fifty? Sixty? More? Unbelievable.
Ralph gave up on any notion of a late afternoon landing. “Let’s stay here and cruise for composition.” As the fiery gold desert sun slowly sank behind a jagged skyline, fin whales continued to feed and cruise around the ship. Scores of tiny phalaropes danced an aerial ballet in the last rays of sunset and then against the reflected pinks and blues of the sky. Yes, indeed, it was an extra, extraordinary day.
Sung to the tune of The 12 Days of Christmas, sort of.
On the 12th hour of watching, the Expedition Leader said to me,
“Let’s cruise for composition. Put the sun behind the whale’s head , you’ll see.”
Then we had eleven (hundred) phalaropes flyin’ by,
And ten brown boobies in the azure sky.
Nine groups of common dolphins began a leapin’
While eight pelican wings were wave sweepin’
Seven dozen vermilion squirting squid were cruisin’
As six Heermann’s gulls were a mewin’
Then five blue whales blew.
Four naturalists aah-oohin’
Three pounds of whale scat a pollutin’
Two Craveri’s murrelets over the sea so blue,
And a Laysan albatross in Lindy’s view.
Quotes from the day:
“What more can you have in life than coffee and dolphins?” Innocently said early in the morning of a most amazing day.
“Look, a ballet of phalaropes.”
“Oh! Dolphins in my window.”
“We brake for blue whales.”
“Just another fin whale.”
“The fin whales are lunge feeding NOT lunch feeding.”
“We sailed all day but didn’t go anywhere.”
“I think I’m suffering from lens envy.” Confession of a point-and-shoot camera owner.
“Gosh, it’s hard to stop smiling.”
“I’m exhausted.” Exclaimed after 12 hours of cetacean photography.
“Wow! Bow riding krill.” From a naturalist who was getting a little punchy by the end of the day.
Today was an extraordinary day. No, it was an extra, extraordinary day. Sunrise found our little ship between the Isla of Tortuga and the soaring peaks of the Tres Virgenes volcanoes on the East Coast of the Baja peninsula. Before the morning’s caffeine could kick in, common dolphins were at play around the ship. After breakfast, Jack gave a video-illustrated talk on how to capture dolphins with a camera. As though on cue, dolphins reappeared after the lecture and shutter fingers began to be exercised. Bill dropped the hydrophone into the sea so we could listen in on the dolphins’ conversations.
Suddenly Lindy yelled, “red-billed tropicbird!” Binoc and camera lenses were pointed toward the slender white bird with its delicate, undulating elongated tail feathers. A few minutes later, another excited shout, “masked booby!” This bird is usually found much farther south of here so it’s an unusual sight.
As the action calmed and Linda was getting ready to talk to us about the “Signs of Life” – ways to detect the variety of animals that live around us by using tracks, scat and other clues – fin whales surfaced in front of the bow. And another round of viewing and picture taking commenced.
Eventually the whales disappeared and Linda began her lecture. But no sooner had she finished and we had emerged back on the bow, when Lindy screamed, “Laysan albatross!” Here was a bird normally only seen far out in the Pacific not in the Gulf. How odd and how wonderful that we should have two sightings of rare birds and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.
When we did go inside for lunch, more fin whales abruptly interrupted the meal. Film was being burned at record speed. All afternoon, whales toyed with us. Every time that it seemed things were quieting down, the whales would display some new behavior.
Then another outburst from the naturalists, “blue whale!” Several more blues were spotted. These, of course, are the largest mammals to have ever lived, sometimes achieving 100 feet in length.
What more could happen? Well, the fin whales began to lunge feed. Upon closer examination, we saw red squid popping up at the surface. Were they to become part of the whale’s meal? As though to answer our question, a huge gaping mouth and extended throat swept through the frantically swimming and jumping squid.
After hours out in the hot Baja sun, some of us were growing a little weary and a tad crispy, but it was difficult to pull ourselves away from the continuing cetacean spectacle. During a lull, the Sea Bird steamed ahead only to be brought to yet another stop by more whales. How many had we seen today? Fifty? Sixty? More? Unbelievable.
Ralph gave up on any notion of a late afternoon landing. “Let’s stay here and cruise for composition.” As the fiery gold desert sun slowly sank behind a jagged skyline, fin whales continued to feed and cruise around the ship. Scores of tiny phalaropes danced an aerial ballet in the last rays of sunset and then against the reflected pinks and blues of the sky. Yes, indeed, it was an extra, extraordinary day.
Sung to the tune of The 12 Days of Christmas, sort of.
On the 12th hour of watching, the Expedition Leader said to me,
“Let’s cruise for composition. Put the sun behind the whale’s head , you’ll see.”
Then we had eleven (hundred) phalaropes flyin’ by,
And ten brown boobies in the azure sky.
Nine groups of common dolphins began a leapin’
While eight pelican wings were wave sweepin’
Seven dozen vermilion squirting squid were cruisin’
As six Heermann’s gulls were a mewin’
Then five blue whales blew.
Four naturalists aah-oohin’
Three pounds of whale scat a pollutin’
Two Craveri’s murrelets over the sea so blue,
And a Laysan albatross in Lindy’s view.
Quotes from the day:
“What more can you have in life than coffee and dolphins?” Innocently said early in the morning of a most amazing day.
“Look, a ballet of phalaropes.”
“Oh! Dolphins in my window.”
“We brake for blue whales.”
“Just another fin whale.”
“The fin whales are lunge feeding NOT lunch feeding.”
“We sailed all day but didn’t go anywhere.”
“I think I’m suffering from lens envy.” Confession of a point-and-shoot camera owner.
“Gosh, it’s hard to stop smiling.”
“I’m exhausted.” Exclaimed after 12 hours of cetacean photography.
“Wow! Bow riding krill.” From a naturalist who was getting a little punchy by the end of the day.
