Cape Fortuna to Cabo San Lucas
As we arose today, the sun peaked picturesquely behind a rising plume of clouds. The wing tips of mobula rays, dwarf relatives of the mantas, broke the surface of the flat ocean. A number of humpback blows were sighted earlier in the distance, but as yet the behemoths remained elusive. Suddenly, off Cape Fortuna, two humpbacks surfaced. Although the water was calm, it was almost too calm. The blows were harder to see because they were much smaller. Unlike whale blows in Alaska, where the moist warm breath of the whales condenses when it hits the cold exterior air, in Baja most of the blow is caused by water that remains in the dimple of the blowhole when the whale surfaces. The powerful exhalations of these animals as they exchange almost 90% of the air in their lungs vaporizes the pooled droplets. However, on days as calm as this one, almost all the water can roll off the blowhole, adding an extra challenge to those of us seeking cetaceans. But our scanning had paid off and we cruised in for a closer look at these "winged New Englanders." Humpback whales, once hunted heavily because they inhabit coastal waters and float after they are killed, have rebounded well since they have been protected and now number around 1,000 in this area. We did not need to see more than these two to appreciate their grace and beauty as they glided through the water.
Rumor has it that humpbacks breach more when it is windy, and there may be some truth to that old wives' tale. After watching the whales go down for a dive, many guests started to meander inside to get breakfast and the wind picked up slightly. Suddenly, there was a breach off the bow and a second breach from the same animal. Many people remained in the dining area just long enough to grab a muffin and then headed back out to the bow to dine al fresco. They were not disappointed. Two humpbacks appeared 30 meters directly off the bow, with the distance decreasing. We could tell by the all black flukes on the one individual that it was probably a female, and the other was probably a male escort, trying to woo his potential mate. Although we dropped the hydrophone a number of times, the giants were silent during their love dance. We stayed with this pair for almost an hour, noticing that while the one whale (the female) would lift its tail high in the air before a dive, her prospective partner never did. Finally they dove once more, with a beautiful fluke display less than 20 meters from the bow. We moved on in search of other individuals.
As we ploughed through the waters, those of us who lowered our binoculars and peered into the emerald depths were surprised to see red blotches drifting along. A fast dip with a net off the fantail revealed that these red flashes were pelagic red crabs, which sometimes occur in masses large enough to cause red slicks in the ocean. Today, rather than dense aggregations, scattered individuals floated by, carried by the currents and partially kept afloat by the fine hairs radiating from their legs. Using the video microscope, we took a closer look at those hairs and the compound eyes of these creatures. We also saw that the gelatinous blobs that had been floating by were actually long chains of genetically identical pulsating bells, forming a cohesive animal colony known as a siphonophore. Throughout the water zoomed copepods, close relatives of crabs that move using the strong strokes of two long antennae projecting from their head. Idly watching what appeared to be a mobula ray in front of the boat, those of us leaning over the bow started as the animal revealed itself to be a 4.5 foot hammerhead shark swimming just under the surface. Others of us watched the ridiculously long and graceful tail of the red-billed tropicbirds: a two-foot long spiked tail on a bird the size of a pigeon. We had just resigned ourselves to seeing no more whales before Cabo San Lucas when the Chief Mate radioed the call: humpbacks had been sighted close to shore. Motoring over we were delighted to see another four individuals, this time with one in front and three trailing behind, all traveling quickly. We surmised that the front runner was probably a female, and the ones following were probably males, coaxed on inexorably by the pheromones diffusing in the wake of the female. Squiggly scars witnessing past bouts of aggression between suitors riddled the backs of the trailing males. Keeping pace alongside these whales, we came close enough to see the eerie, almost glowing, light green pectoral flippers visible just under the water. Not only could we hear the exhales of the whales as they surfaced, but the inhalant noises also traveled to us across the water. After watching this group for over half an hour, the ship headed south again to our dock at Cabo San Lucas.
Some of us headed off the ship immediately to snorkel at Chileanos beach, while others shopped for a while in town before leaving for a bird walk. The snorkelers marveled at the number of wrasses, sergeant majors, scissortail damselfish and Mexican goatfish that swirled between boulders and coral heads. The birders were happy to view an ash-throated flycatcher, a cactus wren and a gila woodpecker. Those guests who shopped enjoyed a melange of silver jewelry, Mexican artwork and crazy t-shirts. Returning to the ship shortly before sunset, we had just enough time to enjoy Bahama Mamas on the bow while viewing the final rays of the sun on the stark rocks of the Arch at Land's End. Above frigatebirds swirled. One male frigate was magnificent as he puffed out his red gular pouch for a much-interested female frigate perched on the next higher ledge. Rounding Land's End, we headed out into the open Pacific Ocean, amazed at the calmness of this often ironically named body of water.
As we arose today, the sun peaked picturesquely behind a rising plume of clouds. The wing tips of mobula rays, dwarf relatives of the mantas, broke the surface of the flat ocean. A number of humpback blows were sighted earlier in the distance, but as yet the behemoths remained elusive. Suddenly, off Cape Fortuna, two humpbacks surfaced. Although the water was calm, it was almost too calm. The blows were harder to see because they were much smaller. Unlike whale blows in Alaska, where the moist warm breath of the whales condenses when it hits the cold exterior air, in Baja most of the blow is caused by water that remains in the dimple of the blowhole when the whale surfaces. The powerful exhalations of these animals as they exchange almost 90% of the air in their lungs vaporizes the pooled droplets. However, on days as calm as this one, almost all the water can roll off the blowhole, adding an extra challenge to those of us seeking cetaceans. But our scanning had paid off and we cruised in for a closer look at these "winged New Englanders." Humpback whales, once hunted heavily because they inhabit coastal waters and float after they are killed, have rebounded well since they have been protected and now number around 1,000 in this area. We did not need to see more than these two to appreciate their grace and beauty as they glided through the water.
Rumor has it that humpbacks breach more when it is windy, and there may be some truth to that old wives' tale. After watching the whales go down for a dive, many guests started to meander inside to get breakfast and the wind picked up slightly. Suddenly, there was a breach off the bow and a second breach from the same animal. Many people remained in the dining area just long enough to grab a muffin and then headed back out to the bow to dine al fresco. They were not disappointed. Two humpbacks appeared 30 meters directly off the bow, with the distance decreasing. We could tell by the all black flukes on the one individual that it was probably a female, and the other was probably a male escort, trying to woo his potential mate. Although we dropped the hydrophone a number of times, the giants were silent during their love dance. We stayed with this pair for almost an hour, noticing that while the one whale (the female) would lift its tail high in the air before a dive, her prospective partner never did. Finally they dove once more, with a beautiful fluke display less than 20 meters from the bow. We moved on in search of other individuals.
As we ploughed through the waters, those of us who lowered our binoculars and peered into the emerald depths were surprised to see red blotches drifting along. A fast dip with a net off the fantail revealed that these red flashes were pelagic red crabs, which sometimes occur in masses large enough to cause red slicks in the ocean. Today, rather than dense aggregations, scattered individuals floated by, carried by the currents and partially kept afloat by the fine hairs radiating from their legs. Using the video microscope, we took a closer look at those hairs and the compound eyes of these creatures. We also saw that the gelatinous blobs that had been floating by were actually long chains of genetically identical pulsating bells, forming a cohesive animal colony known as a siphonophore. Throughout the water zoomed copepods, close relatives of crabs that move using the strong strokes of two long antennae projecting from their head. Idly watching what appeared to be a mobula ray in front of the boat, those of us leaning over the bow started as the animal revealed itself to be a 4.5 foot hammerhead shark swimming just under the surface. Others of us watched the ridiculously long and graceful tail of the red-billed tropicbirds: a two-foot long spiked tail on a bird the size of a pigeon. We had just resigned ourselves to seeing no more whales before Cabo San Lucas when the Chief Mate radioed the call: humpbacks had been sighted close to shore. Motoring over we were delighted to see another four individuals, this time with one in front and three trailing behind, all traveling quickly. We surmised that the front runner was probably a female, and the ones following were probably males, coaxed on inexorably by the pheromones diffusing in the wake of the female. Squiggly scars witnessing past bouts of aggression between suitors riddled the backs of the trailing males. Keeping pace alongside these whales, we came close enough to see the eerie, almost glowing, light green pectoral flippers visible just under the water. Not only could we hear the exhales of the whales as they surfaced, but the inhalant noises also traveled to us across the water. After watching this group for over half an hour, the ship headed south again to our dock at Cabo San Lucas.
Some of us headed off the ship immediately to snorkel at Chileanos beach, while others shopped for a while in town before leaving for a bird walk. The snorkelers marveled at the number of wrasses, sergeant majors, scissortail damselfish and Mexican goatfish that swirled between boulders and coral heads. The birders were happy to view an ash-throated flycatcher, a cactus wren and a gila woodpecker. Those guests who shopped enjoyed a melange of silver jewelry, Mexican artwork and crazy t-shirts. Returning to the ship shortly before sunset, we had just enough time to enjoy Bahama Mamas on the bow while viewing the final rays of the sun on the stark rocks of the Arch at Land's End. Above frigatebirds swirled. One male frigate was magnificent as he puffed out his red gular pouch for a much-interested female frigate perched on the next higher ledge. Rounding Land's End, we headed out into the open Pacific Ocean, amazed at the calmness of this often ironically named body of water.
