Isla San Francisco and Los Islotes, Baja California Sur
The final day of an adventure of this kind is never something to look forward to; there are always so many other things to see in a desert. So we wrapped ourselves in new experiences and new vistas, allowing them to meld into the avid memories of the strange and wonderful things that we had done and seen in the past few days. We forgot about tomorrow.
A brisk westerly across our bow called for a slight change in plans. That is never a problem here in the Sea of Cortez. If one perfect destination is too rough, another can be found. We headed north to the lee of Isla San Francisco, arriving in time to witness the winds as they abated. The white sands invited us ashore.
Well fed and well informed for the past few days, most of us decided to take the extended trek, along the wave-formed sand beach, across crunchy salt flats, up a gentle slope of volcanic rock and onto a brilliant ridge top. The drop-off to the east was sheer and sobering, leading our eyes across the blue water below. The distant land of mainland Mexico, from which this small island and all of the Baja peninsula continue to separate, could not be seen. A husky and hairy tarantula, slow-moving in the bright sun, crossed our trail. We drew in cautiously for a close inspection. A lofty peregrine circled the pinnacle. A tiny verdin, a true desert bird, searched for the sweetness of rich-red palo adan flowers. The smaller Costa’s hummingbird must also be here.
Kayakers took silent stock of the picturesque shoreline, watching fishermen as they cleaned their catch, and the birds that benefited thereby. Swimmers cooled after a warm walk among drought-resistant plants and glistening salt ponds.
Highlights never seem to end, though. A tiny pinnacle of volcanic ash, hardened by its own heat, is the birth place of California sea lions and blue-footed boobies. Birds and barking! In no time at all we donned our wetsuits and slipped into the watery world of sleek sea lions. Energetic, noisy, curious, playful and big-eyed, they showed us just what it takes to be a swimmer. By May and June many more will be here, to breed or to give birth. Mayhem will rule, as massive bulls attempt to breed with any receptive female. Younger bulls will try to get into the fray, facing the beach masters and retreating over the smaller females and tiny but resilient pups. The new-born are endangered, but somehow enough survive.
Life abounds on this isolated rock, as well as in the air above and water below. Our visit here drew to a perfect close a glorious week of discovery. Baja will live on in our minds.
The final day of an adventure of this kind is never something to look forward to; there are always so many other things to see in a desert. So we wrapped ourselves in new experiences and new vistas, allowing them to meld into the avid memories of the strange and wonderful things that we had done and seen in the past few days. We forgot about tomorrow.
A brisk westerly across our bow called for a slight change in plans. That is never a problem here in the Sea of Cortez. If one perfect destination is too rough, another can be found. We headed north to the lee of Isla San Francisco, arriving in time to witness the winds as they abated. The white sands invited us ashore.
Well fed and well informed for the past few days, most of us decided to take the extended trek, along the wave-formed sand beach, across crunchy salt flats, up a gentle slope of volcanic rock and onto a brilliant ridge top. The drop-off to the east was sheer and sobering, leading our eyes across the blue water below. The distant land of mainland Mexico, from which this small island and all of the Baja peninsula continue to separate, could not be seen. A husky and hairy tarantula, slow-moving in the bright sun, crossed our trail. We drew in cautiously for a close inspection. A lofty peregrine circled the pinnacle. A tiny verdin, a true desert bird, searched for the sweetness of rich-red palo adan flowers. The smaller Costa’s hummingbird must also be here.
Kayakers took silent stock of the picturesque shoreline, watching fishermen as they cleaned their catch, and the birds that benefited thereby. Swimmers cooled after a warm walk among drought-resistant plants and glistening salt ponds.
Highlights never seem to end, though. A tiny pinnacle of volcanic ash, hardened by its own heat, is the birth place of California sea lions and blue-footed boobies. Birds and barking! In no time at all we donned our wetsuits and slipped into the watery world of sleek sea lions. Energetic, noisy, curious, playful and big-eyed, they showed us just what it takes to be a swimmer. By May and June many more will be here, to breed or to give birth. Mayhem will rule, as massive bulls attempt to breed with any receptive female. Younger bulls will try to get into the fray, facing the beach masters and retreating over the smaller females and tiny but resilient pups. The new-born are endangered, but somehow enough survive.
Life abounds on this isolated rock, as well as in the air above and water below. Our visit here drew to a perfect close a glorious week of discovery. Baja will live on in our minds.
