San José Channel & Puerto Gato, Baja California Peninsula
Two things you notice first about a killer whale: the huge size and the slick black body that catches the sunlight. A group of four swam beside the Sea Voyager, a giant male surfacing next to the bow, spraying water on us from its blow-hole. It was so close that I entertained fantasies of leaning over the side and stroking it. It was a rare sighting: one of the crew, traveling the waters of Baja for over a decade, has only seen killer whales five times. The animals, as if knowing their uniqueness to us, rose and fell in perfect speed with our ship for several minutes. The photographers on board exclaimed at the excellent pictures they were getting. We all moved en masse from one side of the ship to another, pointing, marveling. And then, all at once, the animals disappeared into the waters and sped away. Again, the silence of ocean and sky. The sunlight and gentle waves. Our trip had been christened by a rare meeting.
Earlier, under cloudy skies that spared us Baja’s full heat, many on board got into kayaks for long-distance paddling through the San Jose Channel. This route was seven nautical miles, and the wind created some high swells to challenge us. One kayak overturned, and many were forced to stop early due to the weather conditions. For those in double kayaks in the lead group, a pod of dolphins accompanied them for nearly an hour, swimming near the kayaks and playing in the waves.
By evening, we anchored at “Rancho Timbabichi,” a privately owned area on the peninsula offering verdant desert life in the arroyos that made for good desert treks. For those who hadn’t experienced enough kayaking in the morning, more kayaks were launched from the beach, and paddlers enjoyed the easing of temperatures before sunset. Dinner and a bonfire on the beach concluded a day of rare adventures.
Two things you notice first about a killer whale: the huge size and the slick black body that catches the sunlight. A group of four swam beside the Sea Voyager, a giant male surfacing next to the bow, spraying water on us from its blow-hole. It was so close that I entertained fantasies of leaning over the side and stroking it. It was a rare sighting: one of the crew, traveling the waters of Baja for over a decade, has only seen killer whales five times. The animals, as if knowing their uniqueness to us, rose and fell in perfect speed with our ship for several minutes. The photographers on board exclaimed at the excellent pictures they were getting. We all moved en masse from one side of the ship to another, pointing, marveling. And then, all at once, the animals disappeared into the waters and sped away. Again, the silence of ocean and sky. The sunlight and gentle waves. Our trip had been christened by a rare meeting.
Earlier, under cloudy skies that spared us Baja’s full heat, many on board got into kayaks for long-distance paddling through the San Jose Channel. This route was seven nautical miles, and the wind created some high swells to challenge us. One kayak overturned, and many were forced to stop early due to the weather conditions. For those in double kayaks in the lead group, a pod of dolphins accompanied them for nearly an hour, swimming near the kayaks and playing in the waves.
By evening, we anchored at “Rancho Timbabichi,” a privately owned area on the peninsula offering verdant desert life in the arroyos that made for good desert treks. For those who hadn’t experienced enough kayaking in the morning, more kayaks were launched from the beach, and paddlers enjoyed the easing of temperatures before sunset. Dinner and a bonfire on the beach concluded a day of rare adventures.
