Ship of the Desert
Today we negotiated waves. Huge swells. Steep chop. Riffles. But these were waves of sand. The granitic mountains of northern Baja California provide a steady source of fine quartz crystals. Carried south by ocean currents, they eventually build the barrier islands of the peninsula’s Pacific Coast. We anchored in Bahia Magdalena and went ashore for a sunrise stroll. The dunes, ever shifting in sinuous and billowing forms, provided us endless material for photography or contemplation. Though apparently harsh, the sand was home for lots of seemingly delicate blooming plants. Daisies, tomatoes and milkweeds all had their sand-loving floral relations. And lacing the flowers together were tracks of hares, coyotes, and many a tiny rodent. We crossed the dunes, and eventually reached the outer coast on aptly-named Sand Dollar Beach. We ambled by a fortune in echinoderm coinage, as well as turret shells like tawny unicorns’ horns, spiked Venus clams, and glossy olive shells. Elsewhere, birders marveled at the extravagant profiles of godwits and curlews, the bright color of oystercatcher bills, and the shaggy hairdos of royal terns.
Leaving Bahia Magdalena in the P.M., we were happy to find comparatively small waves in the open Pacific. We had time enough to hear Michael introduce us to gray whales and to see a few of his great marine photos before we were interrupted by a living cetacean. Out on the bow we had a quick view of a blue whale, but as this fellow was spending most of his time beneath the waves, watching even the world’s biggest creature was somewhat underwhelming. Not so our next sighting, a pair of blues. As this was a cow-calf pair, they spent much more time at the surface, and we were able to get a good look at their towering columnar spouts, their pale mottled coloration, and their embarrassingly tiny dorsal fins. We also heard the deep rushing sounds of their breaths, impressive enough that to experience the surfacing of a blue whale with eyes closed might be the memory of a lifetime. Yet another blue brought our count to an even quartet, and the sunset with a green flash drew a curtain on the day.
Today we negotiated waves. Huge swells. Steep chop. Riffles. But these were waves of sand. The granitic mountains of northern Baja California provide a steady source of fine quartz crystals. Carried south by ocean currents, they eventually build the barrier islands of the peninsula’s Pacific Coast. We anchored in Bahia Magdalena and went ashore for a sunrise stroll. The dunes, ever shifting in sinuous and billowing forms, provided us endless material for photography or contemplation. Though apparently harsh, the sand was home for lots of seemingly delicate blooming plants. Daisies, tomatoes and milkweeds all had their sand-loving floral relations. And lacing the flowers together were tracks of hares, coyotes, and many a tiny rodent. We crossed the dunes, and eventually reached the outer coast on aptly-named Sand Dollar Beach. We ambled by a fortune in echinoderm coinage, as well as turret shells like tawny unicorns’ horns, spiked Venus clams, and glossy olive shells. Elsewhere, birders marveled at the extravagant profiles of godwits and curlews, the bright color of oystercatcher bills, and the shaggy hairdos of royal terns.
Leaving Bahia Magdalena in the P.M., we were happy to find comparatively small waves in the open Pacific. We had time enough to hear Michael introduce us to gray whales and to see a few of his great marine photos before we were interrupted by a living cetacean. Out on the bow we had a quick view of a blue whale, but as this fellow was spending most of his time beneath the waves, watching even the world’s biggest creature was somewhat underwhelming. Not so our next sighting, a pair of blues. As this was a cow-calf pair, they spent much more time at the surface, and we were able to get a good look at their towering columnar spouts, their pale mottled coloration, and their embarrassingly tiny dorsal fins. We also heard the deep rushing sounds of their breaths, impressive enough that to experience the surfacing of a blue whale with eyes closed might be the memory of a lifetime. Yet another blue brought our count to an even quartet, and the sunset with a green flash drew a curtain on the day.
