The Rattleless Rattlesnake of Isla Santa Catalina
Today was a standard – which is to say spectacular- day in the Gulf of California. Soon after we awoke, we found a pair of humpback whales. Like most baleen whales, humpbacks are not particularly social, so we were not surprised to find that one whale was significantly smaller than the other – no doubt this was a cow-calf pair. The two seemed to be feeding, alternating several surfacings with longer dives. Humpbacks share with just a few other species a particularly engaging habit. They lift their tails before every deep dive as if in farewell salute. Humpbacks, perhaps the most beautiful whales, have elegantly curvaceous tails, and every dive was accompanied by a chorus of sighs and camera clicks.
Just after breakfast, we landed on Santa Catalina Island. Near the island’s south end, a sandy arroyo or dry wash makes for pleasant walking. Scattered over the hillsides stood the columnar cacti that make the Sonoran such a photogenic desert. Cardons, the biggest in the world, towered in every direction, their many limbs often topped by large conical flowers. Galloping cacti sprawled in ungainly heaps, and mammillarias peeped from rock crevices. But most interesting were the barrel cacti. These cacti are masters of the tortoise’s race philosophy. Slow growing and parsimonious with every drop of water, barrels rarely reach more than waist high. But here on Catalina, perhaps freed from predators or competition, barrel cacti soar to twenty feet! These giants are unique to Catalina and a few nearby islands. Even more unusual are the island’s rattlesnakes. Perhaps because there are no mammals large enough to hunt the snakes or even trample them by accident, the rattlesnakes have nobody to warn, and hence have lost their rattles. These unique rattleless rattlesnakes are very hard to find, but our long walkers found two snakes that were as nice as any rattlesnake you are likely to encounter. Birds too were enjoyable, with shrikes fairly glowing in the low-angle sunlight and hummingbirds performing acrobatic courtship displays over our heads or flashing purple from the bushes.
We spent the first part of the afternoon looking for whales, and we were soon richly rewarded. We spotted tall spouts in the distance, and, approaching, saw broad pale grey backs with comparatively tiny dorsal fins – sure signs that we had found the biggest of them all – blue whales. Again the whales were a cow-calf pair. Both whales were very distinctive. The adult had a “frosted” dorsal fin, as if sprinkled with powdered sugar, and the young whale was similarly pale, with the addition of scars on the fin, perhaps from an encounter with a boat propeller, perhaps with the teeth of a killerwhale. Like the humpbacks, these whales seemed to be feeding, repeatedly diving for several minutes, then surfacing for a series of breaths. Our Captain, particularly skilled at driving around whales, got us close to the blues without any possibility of harassing them. It was grand to see a whale moving silently just beneath the surface, then to hear the mighty rush of the spout and the whale’s huge inspiration.
Late afternoon found us at Puerto Gato on the Baja California peninsula. The wide beaches here are bounded by ruddy cliffs of rounded forms – lithified sand dunes – capped by the angular shapes of ancient volcanic ash eruptions. Ashore, we walked over dunes, following the tracks of jackrabbits, quail and beetles, or strolled the beach. Others snorkeled among the rocks just off the beach, or paddled around headlands and islets by kayak.
As evening fell, the crew set up a beach barbeque, and we enjoyed tasty food around a mesquite fire. And at last, stars filled the desert sky, and, even brighter, bioluminescence swirled in the waters of the gulf.
Today was a standard – which is to say spectacular- day in the Gulf of California. Soon after we awoke, we found a pair of humpback whales. Like most baleen whales, humpbacks are not particularly social, so we were not surprised to find that one whale was significantly smaller than the other – no doubt this was a cow-calf pair. The two seemed to be feeding, alternating several surfacings with longer dives. Humpbacks share with just a few other species a particularly engaging habit. They lift their tails before every deep dive as if in farewell salute. Humpbacks, perhaps the most beautiful whales, have elegantly curvaceous tails, and every dive was accompanied by a chorus of sighs and camera clicks.
Just after breakfast, we landed on Santa Catalina Island. Near the island’s south end, a sandy arroyo or dry wash makes for pleasant walking. Scattered over the hillsides stood the columnar cacti that make the Sonoran such a photogenic desert. Cardons, the biggest in the world, towered in every direction, their many limbs often topped by large conical flowers. Galloping cacti sprawled in ungainly heaps, and mammillarias peeped from rock crevices. But most interesting were the barrel cacti. These cacti are masters of the tortoise’s race philosophy. Slow growing and parsimonious with every drop of water, barrels rarely reach more than waist high. But here on Catalina, perhaps freed from predators or competition, barrel cacti soar to twenty feet! These giants are unique to Catalina and a few nearby islands. Even more unusual are the island’s rattlesnakes. Perhaps because there are no mammals large enough to hunt the snakes or even trample them by accident, the rattlesnakes have nobody to warn, and hence have lost their rattles. These unique rattleless rattlesnakes are very hard to find, but our long walkers found two snakes that were as nice as any rattlesnake you are likely to encounter. Birds too were enjoyable, with shrikes fairly glowing in the low-angle sunlight and hummingbirds performing acrobatic courtship displays over our heads or flashing purple from the bushes.
We spent the first part of the afternoon looking for whales, and we were soon richly rewarded. We spotted tall spouts in the distance, and, approaching, saw broad pale grey backs with comparatively tiny dorsal fins – sure signs that we had found the biggest of them all – blue whales. Again the whales were a cow-calf pair. Both whales were very distinctive. The adult had a “frosted” dorsal fin, as if sprinkled with powdered sugar, and the young whale was similarly pale, with the addition of scars on the fin, perhaps from an encounter with a boat propeller, perhaps with the teeth of a killerwhale. Like the humpbacks, these whales seemed to be feeding, repeatedly diving for several minutes, then surfacing for a series of breaths. Our Captain, particularly skilled at driving around whales, got us close to the blues without any possibility of harassing them. It was grand to see a whale moving silently just beneath the surface, then to hear the mighty rush of the spout and the whale’s huge inspiration.
Late afternoon found us at Puerto Gato on the Baja California peninsula. The wide beaches here are bounded by ruddy cliffs of rounded forms – lithified sand dunes – capped by the angular shapes of ancient volcanic ash eruptions. Ashore, we walked over dunes, following the tracks of jackrabbits, quail and beetles, or strolled the beach. Others snorkeled among the rocks just off the beach, or paddled around headlands and islets by kayak.
As evening fell, the crew set up a beach barbeque, and we enjoyed tasty food around a mesquite fire. And at last, stars filled the desert sky, and, even brighter, bioluminescence swirled in the waters of the gulf.
