First day of spring, Magdalena Bay
A clean, cool, candid wind invigorated us this morning. The sunrise darted across the wave tops. The mellowness of dusk upstaged by the firmament’s lifting blueness. Let the poverty of my words attempt to describe "the passion of the sea" in La Boca de Soledad, “The mouth of Solitude.”
The day would be grand. Here was the birthplace of generations of whales, time immemorial. We were ready for adventure. We divided ourselves into odds and evens, our cabins numbers.
The"odds"went to shore. Lawrence of Arabia would have been at home in the expanse of silvery veiled dunes rising and falling towards the open Pacific. Time to take our shoes off! To walk untethered by society’s concrete jungles, toes imbedded in the silky sugar, is not just a thrill, but, oh, so close to sin. A myriad of colours; raven magnetite, nankeen phosphorite and skull white granite. Our destination? “A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk along the briny beach.” We did not weep to see such quantities of sand.
The "evens" donned their windbreakers and followed the mother and calf grey whales by Zodiac, our trusty inflatables. Ah, the spray on our faces etched the smiles into permanent grins. Most of the young whales were quite large at around 20 feet. They’ve been gaining weight since their birthday three months ago at the astounding rate of 50 pounds per day! Soon, their 6000 mile journey to the high arctic would begin, maybe even tonight, on the first day of spring - nursing all the way!
Then everyone switched and the events were repeated but every experience was different, and, oh so personal. Each gust of wind carries the message. The crashing surf pounds the distant beaches senseless. Today we have time. Time to waste our lives away. Ah, such decadence at La Boca de Soledad. George Sirk, Naturalist; Photos: George Sirk and Marylou Graham, Photo Expedition Participants
A clean, cool, candid wind invigorated us this morning. The sunrise darted across the wave tops. The mellowness of dusk upstaged by the firmament’s lifting blueness. Let the poverty of my words attempt to describe "the passion of the sea" in La Boca de Soledad, “The mouth of Solitude.”
The day would be grand. Here was the birthplace of generations of whales, time immemorial. We were ready for adventure. We divided ourselves into odds and evens, our cabins numbers.
The"odds"went to shore. Lawrence of Arabia would have been at home in the expanse of silvery veiled dunes rising and falling towards the open Pacific. Time to take our shoes off! To walk untethered by society’s concrete jungles, toes imbedded in the silky sugar, is not just a thrill, but, oh, so close to sin. A myriad of colours; raven magnetite, nankeen phosphorite and skull white granite. Our destination? “A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk along the briny beach.” We did not weep to see such quantities of sand.
The "evens" donned their windbreakers and followed the mother and calf grey whales by Zodiac, our trusty inflatables. Ah, the spray on our faces etched the smiles into permanent grins. Most of the young whales were quite large at around 20 feet. They’ve been gaining weight since their birthday three months ago at the astounding rate of 50 pounds per day! Soon, their 6000 mile journey to the high arctic would begin, maybe even tonight, on the first day of spring - nursing all the way!
Then everyone switched and the events were repeated but every experience was different, and, oh so personal. Each gust of wind carries the message. The crashing surf pounds the distant beaches senseless. Today we have time. Time to waste our lives away. Ah, such decadence at La Boca de Soledad. George Sirk, Naturalist; Photos: George Sirk and Marylou Graham, Photo Expedition Participants
