Isla San Esteban
In the dark pre-dawn hours, a cold wind blew. . . . . .OK, so maybe it wasn't exactly a cold wind, but it sure was nippier than we were used to! And maybe the hour wasn't all that much before dawn (in fact, the giant golden orb was breaking on the horizon behind the ship as we loaded into the Zodiacs) but it was definitely before sunrise. For this, our final full day of exploring, we could not bear to waste hours on sleep. We had some serious hunting to do: for giant lizards, flowering cardons, traditional Agave roasting pits, and the perfectly sunlit rock. We were not disappointed. Landing on Isla San Esteban, we were careful to skirt the endemic yellow-footed gulls nesting on the beach. Hiking up the wide wash, we did not have to go far before spying Gretchen posed triumphantly at the side of the trail. Nestled on her arm, looking extremely content (if a bit sleepy, but the sleepy impression may only be due to our projecting our inner feelings to the animal) was a gorgeous orange and black mottled pinto chuckwalla. Found only on this island, this creature is one of the biggest species of chuckwalla in the world. These large lizards sleep in shallow burrows underneath large rocks at night. With the rising temperatures of the day, they rise and move more rapidly as the day progresses. Thus we had ventured forth at this early hour to catch them before they would only be located through their rustling in distant undergrowth. But the chuckwallas were not the only attractions of this beautiful island. As we wandered farther, many smaller lizards darted across our path. We sniffed the pleasant turpentine-scented Elephant trees, marveled at the plethora of orange aphids sucking the juices from milkweed pods, stared at the unreal chartreuse splatters of lichen on high boulders, watched flitting black phainopeplas and even spotted a loggerhead shrike. At the Agave roasting pits we wondered who had the time to methodically lay out so many large rocks. All were perfectly pitched at a sixty-degree angle. Why did the arranger do it? Was the purpose to catch water or were they just neurotically arranged by a Seri cook with a serious Type A personality?
Returning to the ship, we slipped to our rooms for a brief siesta while the ship steamed on to San Pedro Martir. We reemerged rejuvenated and ready for the next adventure. If we were not awake when we boarded the Zodiacs, we were once we hit that cold snorkeling water! But the temperature was soon forgotten as sea lions frolicked around us, blowing bubbles and darting at us from all directions, spiraling off the last second before a collision. Leopard groupers darted to deeper depths at our approach, Gulf Opaleyes curiously investigated us and large jellies floated serenely past, pulsating slowly. The pattern of the day was stripes. Numerous sergeant majors displayed them, as did schools of zebra perches. Even near the surface, rainbows traveled in striped patterns down the sides of comb jellies. To get a closer look at the thousands of proud parent boobies (both brown and blue-footed), we cruised around the island in our Zodiac, flanked by an escort of porpoising juvenile sea lions. The later afternoon was spent enjoying the ocean air in general.
It seems impossible that all of the sights we have seen and the wonder we have experienced in Baja California has taken place over the span of only a week. Surely we must have traveled this land for a month or more? Surely we do not have to go home? Surely there is more to see? The answer to the last question is most definitely. However, we have been traveling only for a week, and although there is indeed much more to see in this wonderful and biologically rich area, alas, we do have to return home. But hopefully for all of us this will be only a temporary hiatus from Baja. We plan to return again to explore more of its treasures.
In the dark pre-dawn hours, a cold wind blew. . . . . .OK, so maybe it wasn't exactly a cold wind, but it sure was nippier than we were used to! And maybe the hour wasn't all that much before dawn (in fact, the giant golden orb was breaking on the horizon behind the ship as we loaded into the Zodiacs) but it was definitely before sunrise. For this, our final full day of exploring, we could not bear to waste hours on sleep. We had some serious hunting to do: for giant lizards, flowering cardons, traditional Agave roasting pits, and the perfectly sunlit rock. We were not disappointed. Landing on Isla San Esteban, we were careful to skirt the endemic yellow-footed gulls nesting on the beach. Hiking up the wide wash, we did not have to go far before spying Gretchen posed triumphantly at the side of the trail. Nestled on her arm, looking extremely content (if a bit sleepy, but the sleepy impression may only be due to our projecting our inner feelings to the animal) was a gorgeous orange and black mottled pinto chuckwalla. Found only on this island, this creature is one of the biggest species of chuckwalla in the world. These large lizards sleep in shallow burrows underneath large rocks at night. With the rising temperatures of the day, they rise and move more rapidly as the day progresses. Thus we had ventured forth at this early hour to catch them before they would only be located through their rustling in distant undergrowth. But the chuckwallas were not the only attractions of this beautiful island. As we wandered farther, many smaller lizards darted across our path. We sniffed the pleasant turpentine-scented Elephant trees, marveled at the plethora of orange aphids sucking the juices from milkweed pods, stared at the unreal chartreuse splatters of lichen on high boulders, watched flitting black phainopeplas and even spotted a loggerhead shrike. At the Agave roasting pits we wondered who had the time to methodically lay out so many large rocks. All were perfectly pitched at a sixty-degree angle. Why did the arranger do it? Was the purpose to catch water or were they just neurotically arranged by a Seri cook with a serious Type A personality?
Returning to the ship, we slipped to our rooms for a brief siesta while the ship steamed on to San Pedro Martir. We reemerged rejuvenated and ready for the next adventure. If we were not awake when we boarded the Zodiacs, we were once we hit that cold snorkeling water! But the temperature was soon forgotten as sea lions frolicked around us, blowing bubbles and darting at us from all directions, spiraling off the last second before a collision. Leopard groupers darted to deeper depths at our approach, Gulf Opaleyes curiously investigated us and large jellies floated serenely past, pulsating slowly. The pattern of the day was stripes. Numerous sergeant majors displayed them, as did schools of zebra perches. Even near the surface, rainbows traveled in striped patterns down the sides of comb jellies. To get a closer look at the thousands of proud parent boobies (both brown and blue-footed), we cruised around the island in our Zodiac, flanked by an escort of porpoising juvenile sea lions. The later afternoon was spent enjoying the ocean air in general.
It seems impossible that all of the sights we have seen and the wonder we have experienced in Baja California has taken place over the span of only a week. Surely we must have traveled this land for a month or more? Surely we do not have to go home? Surely there is more to see? The answer to the last question is most definitely. However, we have been traveling only for a week, and although there is indeed much more to see in this wonderful and biologically rich area, alas, we do have to return home. But hopefully for all of us this will be only a temporary hiatus from Baja. We plan to return again to explore more of its treasures.
