Isla del Carmen
Each morning light filters into the sky a little earlier than the day before. One cannot help rising, anticipating the coming show. The sunrise itself is anticlimactic compared to the preamble of color that drifts from one horizon to the other and drapes itself over our heads. No photo could capture the real dimension of it, the diversity of tones and hues. A body, pivoting slowly moves from the dark blue-gray of an island silhouette smeared at the edges with pastel pinks and blues to flaming red on navy and back to pastels again. The water too is striped with color running from deep navy blue to pewter.
The humidity was almost tangible today, a thickness in the air that condensed on the decks and floated on the sea in foggy patches. It is on days like this that we can smell the desert. Aromatic and spicy scents, released only when creosote bush and copal are caressed by moisture, wafted to our noses from afar. They enticed and invited but for the morning the desire was overcome by the life in the sea.
Blue whales were our morning. A blow, a back, a tiny dorsal fin was followed by the arch of a tail stock, broad and massive. Slowly, gracefully it rose, water pouring from the edges of the flukes. A special event, a special being, this was a blue whale that showed its flukes when it dove. Krill bounced against the surface of the sea, pursued by thrashing tuna. Krill gathered beneath us in clouds that showed on the depth finder. Was our whale skimming through these clouds with open mouth, scooping and filtering out of our sight? We could only hypothesize. At the surface its actions were always the same; blow, back, arch, fluke. Its slow deliberate actions contrasted with that of the dolphins, swirling, leaping, riding the bow, squeaking and whistling in excitement. From frenzy to calm again, a mom and calf blue whale swam with us, each mimicking the other’s actions.
Within Bahia Ballandra the silken sea invited solitude. Skimming on the surface, alone or with one other, feeling the ocean with your body, could this bring closer understanding of the mammals that spend their lives in the deep? Or does it just bring peace to oneself?
But we need the land too. We were drawn into the heart of the island, following a dry river bed. The musky odor of Ruellia overpowered every other. Passion vines climbed on themselves in mounds and cacti marched up red rock hillsides. The shore was too peaceful to leave. Stars twinkled in the sky. Music echoed in the valley. A fire flickered near the shoreline. Companionship too brings serenity.
Each morning light filters into the sky a little earlier than the day before. One cannot help rising, anticipating the coming show. The sunrise itself is anticlimactic compared to the preamble of color that drifts from one horizon to the other and drapes itself over our heads. No photo could capture the real dimension of it, the diversity of tones and hues. A body, pivoting slowly moves from the dark blue-gray of an island silhouette smeared at the edges with pastel pinks and blues to flaming red on navy and back to pastels again. The water too is striped with color running from deep navy blue to pewter.
The humidity was almost tangible today, a thickness in the air that condensed on the decks and floated on the sea in foggy patches. It is on days like this that we can smell the desert. Aromatic and spicy scents, released only when creosote bush and copal are caressed by moisture, wafted to our noses from afar. They enticed and invited but for the morning the desire was overcome by the life in the sea.
Blue whales were our morning. A blow, a back, a tiny dorsal fin was followed by the arch of a tail stock, broad and massive. Slowly, gracefully it rose, water pouring from the edges of the flukes. A special event, a special being, this was a blue whale that showed its flukes when it dove. Krill bounced against the surface of the sea, pursued by thrashing tuna. Krill gathered beneath us in clouds that showed on the depth finder. Was our whale skimming through these clouds with open mouth, scooping and filtering out of our sight? We could only hypothesize. At the surface its actions were always the same; blow, back, arch, fluke. Its slow deliberate actions contrasted with that of the dolphins, swirling, leaping, riding the bow, squeaking and whistling in excitement. From frenzy to calm again, a mom and calf blue whale swam with us, each mimicking the other’s actions.
Within Bahia Ballandra the silken sea invited solitude. Skimming on the surface, alone or with one other, feeling the ocean with your body, could this bring closer understanding of the mammals that spend their lives in the deep? Or does it just bring peace to oneself?
But we need the land too. We were drawn into the heart of the island, following a dry river bed. The musky odor of Ruellia overpowered every other. Passion vines climbed on themselves in mounds and cacti marched up red rock hillsides. The shore was too peaceful to leave. Stars twinkled in the sky. Music echoed in the valley. A fire flickered near the shoreline. Companionship too brings serenity.
