Isla San Jose & Beyond
The “serious” photographers (or were they just insomniacs?) were up well before dawn and heading to the cobble beach at Punta Colorada on the east side of Isla San Jose. As old Sol made his morning appearance, the glorious sunlight slowly spilled down creamcicle-colored sandstone cliffs and benches. A closer examination of these formations, derived from volcanic ash settling in an ancient sea, revealed numerous fossils including scallops, sea turtle shells, and a whale vertebra.
After a hearty breakfast, some guests chose to hike up a beautiful desert arroyo while others donned masks and snorkels for a swim in turquoise waters. The desert is especially verdant this spring with many wildflowers and shrubs in bloom and great spiny agaves sending their asparagus-like stalks skyward. Birds ranging from a tiny hummingbird sitting on her nest to turkey vultures soaring on rising thermals were pointed out by the naturalists. Whiptail, side-blotched, and other lizards dashed about on the warm rocks.
During lunch, the Sea Bird set sail toward Isla Animas, a guano-covered, whale-shaped islet on the eastern horizon. “Animas” is Spanish for spirit, which in this case must be cetacean in nature because before we were halfway through our meal, short-finned pilot whales were discovered. Their smooth, black bodies reflected the bright desert sun as they rose slowly to the surface for a quick breath. Their large bulbous head and stout dorsal fin helps distinguish them from other whale species. One pilot whale came close to the ship and began to slap its fluke over and over, nearly a dozen times. Was it trying to scare us away? Signaling to his friends? Quien sabe?
Finally it was time to steam northward toward Puerto Escondido, where we were scheduled to take on water. As a few of us early risers were laying our heads down on our soft pillows for a little siesta, an announcement came over the PA: “Large blows have been spotted ahead of the ship.” Then a pause, followed by the command: “Blue whales! And not just one or two but seven or more. You better come to the bow. Now!”
Blue whales – the largest mammal ever – surrounded us. Cameras pointed in all directions. Mobula rays did somersaults through the air. Schools of squid squirted water into the air. It was like a three-ring circus, and frigatebirds, pelicans, and boobies came to check out the action. What was drawing all these creatures to this particular spot in the ocean? Food, of course!
Our undersea specialist put out a plankton net and quickly caught a dense mass of euphausiids or krill, the main food resource for the giant blue whales. Ironic that the earth’s largest animal feeds on one of it’s smallest. But the Gulf of California is a very rich marine soup. Upwelling of cold water and nutrients from extremely deep submarine canyons are baked by the desert sun resulting in enormous plankton blooms that form the basis for all the marine life found here.
Not until late afternoon did we finally tear ourselves away from all this excitement. And even though there was some danger in possible “overkrill,” as one guest put it, the natural history staff and a few diehard guests continued to scan the waters for more marine mammals.
The “serious” photographers (or were they just insomniacs?) were up well before dawn and heading to the cobble beach at Punta Colorada on the east side of Isla San Jose. As old Sol made his morning appearance, the glorious sunlight slowly spilled down creamcicle-colored sandstone cliffs and benches. A closer examination of these formations, derived from volcanic ash settling in an ancient sea, revealed numerous fossils including scallops, sea turtle shells, and a whale vertebra.
After a hearty breakfast, some guests chose to hike up a beautiful desert arroyo while others donned masks and snorkels for a swim in turquoise waters. The desert is especially verdant this spring with many wildflowers and shrubs in bloom and great spiny agaves sending their asparagus-like stalks skyward. Birds ranging from a tiny hummingbird sitting on her nest to turkey vultures soaring on rising thermals were pointed out by the naturalists. Whiptail, side-blotched, and other lizards dashed about on the warm rocks.
During lunch, the Sea Bird set sail toward Isla Animas, a guano-covered, whale-shaped islet on the eastern horizon. “Animas” is Spanish for spirit, which in this case must be cetacean in nature because before we were halfway through our meal, short-finned pilot whales were discovered. Their smooth, black bodies reflected the bright desert sun as they rose slowly to the surface for a quick breath. Their large bulbous head and stout dorsal fin helps distinguish them from other whale species. One pilot whale came close to the ship and began to slap its fluke over and over, nearly a dozen times. Was it trying to scare us away? Signaling to his friends? Quien sabe?
Finally it was time to steam northward toward Puerto Escondido, where we were scheduled to take on water. As a few of us early risers were laying our heads down on our soft pillows for a little siesta, an announcement came over the PA: “Large blows have been spotted ahead of the ship.” Then a pause, followed by the command: “Blue whales! And not just one or two but seven or more. You better come to the bow. Now!”
Blue whales – the largest mammal ever – surrounded us. Cameras pointed in all directions. Mobula rays did somersaults through the air. Schools of squid squirted water into the air. It was like a three-ring circus, and frigatebirds, pelicans, and boobies came to check out the action. What was drawing all these creatures to this particular spot in the ocean? Food, of course!
Our undersea specialist put out a plankton net and quickly caught a dense mass of euphausiids or krill, the main food resource for the giant blue whales. Ironic that the earth’s largest animal feeds on one of it’s smallest. But the Gulf of California is a very rich marine soup. Upwelling of cold water and nutrients from extremely deep submarine canyons are baked by the desert sun resulting in enormous plankton blooms that form the basis for all the marine life found here.
Not until late afternoon did we finally tear ourselves away from all this excitement. And even though there was some danger in possible “overkrill,” as one guest put it, the natural history staff and a few diehard guests continued to scan the waters for more marine mammals.
