Gulf of California, Mexico
How does one find a needle in a haystack? Well, one searches and searches and searches.
Now, a whale is a little bit bigger than any needle you may ever find. But then, so is the Gulf of California bigger than any haystack. In fact, the gulf is about 600 miles long and 50 to 100 miles wide. Today we went looking for the big needle – the blue whale – the largest animal ever to inhabit this planet. Their numbers here in winter are highly variable, and compounding the problem is the fact that they are underwater and out of sight perhaps 98 percent of the time. So we searched and searched. In our favour, though, was the fact that our Captain and his bridge officers have learned over the years that the blue whales of Baja California tend to select favourite habitats. Those on board have a pretty good idea of just where to search. And their experience was just what we needed.
Shortly after sunrise we found what we wanted. Four or five of these magnificent animals were surfacing periodically (as usual, as individuals) from the deep waters north of Isla Del Carmen. We moved in quietly for spectacular views, watching their tall, misty, columnar spouts and listening to the explosive blows as they broke the surface. Each would take 4 or 5 breaths between deep dives, inhaling huge volumes of warm Baja air to replenish the dissolved oxygen in their blood and massive muscles. The water was 1200 feet deep, but the ship’s depth sounder recorded a layer of something thin but extensive at about 250 feet. This was probably an astonishing concentration of a small planktonic krill called Nictophanes simplex, a euphausid that is the main food of the blue whales of Baja.
It is a thrill to see such a huge mammal and especially to witness the 15-foot tail flukes as they are lifted…water streaming from them…to initiate a deep or terminal plunge. The individuals in these waters may reach 80 feet in length. To sustain such a body and to grow, the daily ration may require 3 or more tons of krill. In the whale world, some very big things survive on some very small things. The tightly aligned plates of baleen on the upper jaw are the key to success.
Blue whales even before breakfast. Some haystack! Some needle!
We moved south later in the day, intercepting numbers of a medium sized rays of the genus Mobula. Smaller relatives of the huge manta ray, these gray, black and white cartilaginous fish were leaping and swimming at the surface close to our happy ship. Two moved by us in tandem, “wing to wing”; was this by chance or was it a form of courtship? Or friendship? Or protection? The glassy-calm water gave us exciting views and great photos.
No day in Baja is complete without at least a little time on the beach and in the water. That is where we spent our final afternoon. The snorkeling was “…the best”. Kayakers looked into the crystal water to see “…many of the same fish we saw while snorkeling…”, and sidled up to “…oystercatchers, terns and turnstones”. Even the hikers enjoyed the cooling late afternoon air on a small, isolated island. Rain is infrequent in this Sonoran desert, but there had been enough this winter to give the soil life. An intricate and amazing diversity holds this parched ecosystem together. We shall protect it.
How does one find a needle in a haystack? Well, one searches and searches and searches.
Now, a whale is a little bit bigger than any needle you may ever find. But then, so is the Gulf of California bigger than any haystack. In fact, the gulf is about 600 miles long and 50 to 100 miles wide. Today we went looking for the big needle – the blue whale – the largest animal ever to inhabit this planet. Their numbers here in winter are highly variable, and compounding the problem is the fact that they are underwater and out of sight perhaps 98 percent of the time. So we searched and searched. In our favour, though, was the fact that our Captain and his bridge officers have learned over the years that the blue whales of Baja California tend to select favourite habitats. Those on board have a pretty good idea of just where to search. And their experience was just what we needed.
Shortly after sunrise we found what we wanted. Four or five of these magnificent animals were surfacing periodically (as usual, as individuals) from the deep waters north of Isla Del Carmen. We moved in quietly for spectacular views, watching their tall, misty, columnar spouts and listening to the explosive blows as they broke the surface. Each would take 4 or 5 breaths between deep dives, inhaling huge volumes of warm Baja air to replenish the dissolved oxygen in their blood and massive muscles. The water was 1200 feet deep, but the ship’s depth sounder recorded a layer of something thin but extensive at about 250 feet. This was probably an astonishing concentration of a small planktonic krill called Nictophanes simplex, a euphausid that is the main food of the blue whales of Baja.
It is a thrill to see such a huge mammal and especially to witness the 15-foot tail flukes as they are lifted…water streaming from them…to initiate a deep or terminal plunge. The individuals in these waters may reach 80 feet in length. To sustain such a body and to grow, the daily ration may require 3 or more tons of krill. In the whale world, some very big things survive on some very small things. The tightly aligned plates of baleen on the upper jaw are the key to success.
Blue whales even before breakfast. Some haystack! Some needle!
We moved south later in the day, intercepting numbers of a medium sized rays of the genus Mobula. Smaller relatives of the huge manta ray, these gray, black and white cartilaginous fish were leaping and swimming at the surface close to our happy ship. Two moved by us in tandem, “wing to wing”; was this by chance or was it a form of courtship? Or friendship? Or protection? The glassy-calm water gave us exciting views and great photos.
No day in Baja is complete without at least a little time on the beach and in the water. That is where we spent our final afternoon. The snorkeling was “…the best”. Kayakers looked into the crystal water to see “…many of the same fish we saw while snorkeling…”, and sidled up to “…oystercatchers, terns and turnstones”. Even the hikers enjoyed the cooling late afternoon air on a small, isolated island. Rain is infrequent in this Sonoran desert, but there had been enough this winter to give the soil life. An intricate and amazing diversity holds this parched ecosystem together. We shall protect it.
