Gorda Banks & Cabo San Lucas, Baja California
A painted ship on a painted sea, we crossed the Tropic of Cancer (latitude 23 degrees 27 minutes north) and entered the whale-rich waters of Gorda Banks. As before, the sun came up unobstructed, its life-giving light beginning with a green flash – better called a ‘green blip’ – quickly followed by the familiar red-orange-yellow we associate with our favorite star.
Rays leapt into the sky. Marlins too. Then whales. Not blue whales this time, but the species Herman Melville called “the most gamesome of all whales," humpbacks. Two or three male humpbacks appeared to follow a female, consorting and jousting (this being the mating season). Then from nowhere, one male did a full body beach, followed by several head lunges. Bottlenose dolphins made a brief appearance, then a “kafuffle” of common dolphins surfed off our bow for at least twenty minutes. Never has eight knots looked so effortless. The dolphins hardly flicked their tails to propel themselves forward. That’s where 50 million years of evolution in hydrodynamics will get you.
As lunch ended, we slipped into the carnival world of modern Cabo San Lucas, its marina filled with white yachts, fishing boats and jet skis. Only the broken remnants of the old sardine cannery remained of what was here in 1940 when John Steinbeck and Ed Ricketts visited then a sleepy little town without a single light showing in the coal black night. Not so today. For better or worse, Cabo San Lucas is booming.
While some of us spent the afternoon snorkeling on a nice beach a short distance north of the hustle and bustle, others walked along a bird-rich estuary near San Jose Del Cabo. We saw some 44 species of birds, everything from neotropical migrants to local residents, from perching birds to shore birds to seabirds and ducks, including all three species of teal: green-winged, blue-winged, and cinnamon. The snorkelers saw a potpourri of fishes as well, the colors flashing against the sandy bottom and branching coral: yellowtail surgeonfish, the large azul parrotfish, the striking king angelfish and many more. And still others among us walked the colorful streets of Cabo to hit the many waterfront gift shops and art galleries.
Our day ended as it began, in rich light, this time off land’s end at Friar’s Rocks, the sky embroidered with soaring magnificent frigatebirds and brown pelicans. We rounded the cape and headed north, sailing into the sun and distant blows of gray whales.
A painted ship on a painted sea, we crossed the Tropic of Cancer (latitude 23 degrees 27 minutes north) and entered the whale-rich waters of Gorda Banks. As before, the sun came up unobstructed, its life-giving light beginning with a green flash – better called a ‘green blip’ – quickly followed by the familiar red-orange-yellow we associate with our favorite star.
Rays leapt into the sky. Marlins too. Then whales. Not blue whales this time, but the species Herman Melville called “the most gamesome of all whales," humpbacks. Two or three male humpbacks appeared to follow a female, consorting and jousting (this being the mating season). Then from nowhere, one male did a full body beach, followed by several head lunges. Bottlenose dolphins made a brief appearance, then a “kafuffle” of common dolphins surfed off our bow for at least twenty minutes. Never has eight knots looked so effortless. The dolphins hardly flicked their tails to propel themselves forward. That’s where 50 million years of evolution in hydrodynamics will get you.
As lunch ended, we slipped into the carnival world of modern Cabo San Lucas, its marina filled with white yachts, fishing boats and jet skis. Only the broken remnants of the old sardine cannery remained of what was here in 1940 when John Steinbeck and Ed Ricketts visited then a sleepy little town without a single light showing in the coal black night. Not so today. For better or worse, Cabo San Lucas is booming.
While some of us spent the afternoon snorkeling on a nice beach a short distance north of the hustle and bustle, others walked along a bird-rich estuary near San Jose Del Cabo. We saw some 44 species of birds, everything from neotropical migrants to local residents, from perching birds to shore birds to seabirds and ducks, including all three species of teal: green-winged, blue-winged, and cinnamon. The snorkelers saw a potpourri of fishes as well, the colors flashing against the sandy bottom and branching coral: yellowtail surgeonfish, the large azul parrotfish, the striking king angelfish and many more. And still others among us walked the colorful streets of Cabo to hit the many waterfront gift shops and art galleries.
Our day ended as it began, in rich light, this time off land’s end at Friar’s Rocks, the sky embroidered with soaring magnificent frigatebirds and brown pelicans. We rounded the cape and headed north, sailing into the sun and distant blows of gray whales.
