Boca de Soledad, Baja California
During the early morning fog pushed against the estuary but didn’t spill onto it. Golden hues highlighted distant sand bars. The white teeth of breakers churned in the distance giving only a glimpse of the blue Pacific beyond. Wind whipped at the water’s surface, but it made little difference to us.
Whale calves and moms were abundant and watching their antics consumed our day. About 12% of the gray whale young are born in this lagoon every year. Although this species has taken quite a hit in lowered numbers since 1997/98, the number of calves born every year is now back to the same rate as before. It takes calves at least a month to gain the strength and skill to swim in ocean swells and to make the migration north. If they are born in mid-February when the last cows give birth, the month would be up now, but there were plenty. Calves splashed, breached, rolled around between our Zodiacs, and entertained themselves.They are enjoyable companions.
If you could meet gray whales at some social gathering, I think you’d find them quite amiable. They don’t ask for much except for the respect you’d give anyone. If you don’t crowd them, they will let you follow. They don’t much mind the adoration we heap upon them either. Like other good friends, we get a lot from them.When their blows spray across our faces, we squeal with delight. When they put out the energy to jump into the air, we are impressed. We wait tirelessly for them to appear, even if they seem a bit late. If they get tired of us they leave, and when we tire of them we do the same. We hold no grudges and amazingly after all the horrible things humans have done to them in the past, they seem to hold nothing against us.
We were entertained by whales until almost dinner time. Local musicians from Puerto Lopez Mateos came with a feast of tortillas, lobster diablo, a large roasted fish, and all the “fixins.” Music and conversation filled the ship throughout the evening, a wonderful ending to a superb day.
During the early morning fog pushed against the estuary but didn’t spill onto it. Golden hues highlighted distant sand bars. The white teeth of breakers churned in the distance giving only a glimpse of the blue Pacific beyond. Wind whipped at the water’s surface, but it made little difference to us.
Whale calves and moms were abundant and watching their antics consumed our day. About 12% of the gray whale young are born in this lagoon every year. Although this species has taken quite a hit in lowered numbers since 1997/98, the number of calves born every year is now back to the same rate as before. It takes calves at least a month to gain the strength and skill to swim in ocean swells and to make the migration north. If they are born in mid-February when the last cows give birth, the month would be up now, but there were plenty. Calves splashed, breached, rolled around between our Zodiacs, and entertained themselves.They are enjoyable companions.
If you could meet gray whales at some social gathering, I think you’d find them quite amiable. They don’t ask for much except for the respect you’d give anyone. If you don’t crowd them, they will let you follow. They don’t much mind the adoration we heap upon them either. Like other good friends, we get a lot from them.When their blows spray across our faces, we squeal with delight. When they put out the energy to jump into the air, we are impressed. We wait tirelessly for them to appear, even if they seem a bit late. If they get tired of us they leave, and when we tire of them we do the same. We hold no grudges and amazingly after all the horrible things humans have done to them in the past, they seem to hold nothing against us.
We were entertained by whales until almost dinner time. Local musicians from Puerto Lopez Mateos came with a feast of tortillas, lobster diablo, a large roasted fish, and all the “fixins.” Music and conversation filled the ship throughout the evening, a wonderful ending to a superb day.
