Cabo San Lucas & San Jose del Cabo, Gorda Banks
As day broke over the bow of the Sea Lion, we found ourselves off Friar’s Rocks, at Cabo San Lucas, the southern tip of Earth’s second longest peninsula (only the Malay is longer). Morning light played on granite spires and a single graceful arch, and we began to notice all things that fly in Cabo. Magnificent frigatebirds wheeled overhead. Two peregrine falcons zoomed out to sea. Gulls and cormorants cut across our bow.
After docking in the busy harbor, a small group of us turned our sights downward into the magical and colorful world beneath our snorkel masks. A larger number went in search of our feathered friends. The variety of both fishes and birds astounded us. Among the 49 bird species observed were the tiny but brilliant Costa’s hummingbird, and the delicate, elegant black-necked stilt. Even those casually interested in their binoculars became enthusiasts.
When we had arrived at sunrise, we found Cabo on the sleepy side. By mid-day the marina was bustling. Again we were struck with all the things that fly. Locals talked about marlin, manta rays, thrasher sharks, and flying fish that go airborne from time to time.
The greatest soaring of all was our spirits upon finding acrobatic humpback whales that fluked, rolled, breached, tail-lobbed, and did it all again. We lowered our hydrophone and listened to the whales singing, and found ourselves lost in reflection. What a pleasure to share their world, if only for an hour. Many of us remember flying in our dreams as children, but life somehow finds a way to keep us grounded. With all the soaring of these past few days, we might take to the skies once again. Sleep well shipmates.
As day broke over the bow of the Sea Lion, we found ourselves off Friar’s Rocks, at Cabo San Lucas, the southern tip of Earth’s second longest peninsula (only the Malay is longer). Morning light played on granite spires and a single graceful arch, and we began to notice all things that fly in Cabo. Magnificent frigatebirds wheeled overhead. Two peregrine falcons zoomed out to sea. Gulls and cormorants cut across our bow.
After docking in the busy harbor, a small group of us turned our sights downward into the magical and colorful world beneath our snorkel masks. A larger number went in search of our feathered friends. The variety of both fishes and birds astounded us. Among the 49 bird species observed were the tiny but brilliant Costa’s hummingbird, and the delicate, elegant black-necked stilt. Even those casually interested in their binoculars became enthusiasts.
When we had arrived at sunrise, we found Cabo on the sleepy side. By mid-day the marina was bustling. Again we were struck with all the things that fly. Locals talked about marlin, manta rays, thrasher sharks, and flying fish that go airborne from time to time.
The greatest soaring of all was our spirits upon finding acrobatic humpback whales that fluked, rolled, breached, tail-lobbed, and did it all again. We lowered our hydrophone and listened to the whales singing, and found ourselves lost in reflection. What a pleasure to share their world, if only for an hour. Many of us remember flying in our dreams as children, but life somehow finds a way to keep us grounded. With all the soaring of these past few days, we might take to the skies once again. Sleep well shipmates.
