from whales to angelfish...

Pinniped, seabird and cetacean sightings filled our first day at sea. As we cruised along the lee side of South Todos Santos Island, we watched sea lions and harbor seals snoozing and sunbathing on the rocky shore. Scores of cormorants and pelicans perched on rocks while the hungry ones searched the sea for food.

By noon we had encountered four pods of gray whales off the southern tip of the island. They were migrating north, so we bid them farewell and continued our southward migration, changing course twice to entice common dolphins to ride our bow wave and play around the boat. Before the day ended, we found a group of dynamic Risso's dolphins breaching and tail slapping. Their enthusiastic displays thrilled and energized us.

The six hours we spent on West San Benito Island passed swiftly. As we hiked around the island, we came upon cactus species of various sizes and shapes, and nesting osprey - at least five pairs. We watched in awe as the male ospreys soared over our heads, carrying nest material and fish to their mates.

Climbing to the top of the lighthouse gave us a spectacular view of the island's wave-carved coastline and the bright blue water of the Pacific. The island's temporary residents, the elephant seals, delighted and amused us. A 13-foot bull cooled off in a tidepool while hundreds of fat, month-old "weaner" pups lounged lazily on the sandy shore. As the weaners gazed at us with their big, brown eyes, we wondered what they thought of the tall, two-legged animals who were looking at them.

Bowriding bottlenose dolphins and trains of gray whales escorted us into San Ignacio Lagoon. The Searcher anchored while Mexican panga drivers arrived in their sturdy fishing boat to take us on a morning whalewatch. We found friendly gray whales almost immediately. They peered at us curiously, approached cautiously, then allowed us to reach over and touch their soft, rubbery skin. A calf playfully rolled onto, then slid off, its mother's back after completing a series of beautiful breaches near our panga. For nearly three hours we experienced incredible close-up whalewatching, then returned to the Searcher elated, only to be surprised by another whale breaching by the boat! In the afternoon we went to the beach to wander around whale bones and spy on shorebirds. There we relaxed and enjoyed the tranquility of the setting.

We began the day with a dawn birdwatching trip by panga up a mangrove channel. The variety of birds we saw amazed us - over 20 species! Later, we traveled out toward the lagoon's entrance channel to find more gray whales. One whale entertained us by spyhopping tirelessly at least 20 times. We saw a sea lion and dolphins frolicking among the whales. One dolphin followed our panga back to the Searcher.  

After lunch we landed on shore again, this time to walk up the same channel we had traversed by boat in the morning when the tide was high. We listened to the sweet melody of the mangrove warbler and heard the chattering of the elusive clapper rails. The shorebirds were using their bills to dig for dinner in the recently exposed mud. We returned to the Searcher to dine on fresh halibut and gaze at a glorious sunset.

It was our last morning in San Ignacio Lagoon, so we piled into the pangas for one more whalewatching adventure. A rowdy calf with a white rostrum showed off the strength of its young flukes, slapping them against the bow. The calf finally settled down and approached our panga peacefully, closely followed by its mother.

Soon the time came to say good-bye to the gray whales in the lagoon. As the Searcher plowed through the breakers at the entrance channel to head south again, we had one last chance to glance at some grays; countless cow/calf pairs were lingering just outside the lagoon.

We awoke to the sun rising over Magdalena Bay. The Searcher skiffs brought us into another mangrove channel to see the shorebirds of the bay, their names and faces very familiar to us now. Later in the morning, we stopped at a beach by Punta Entrada, at the southern tip of Magdalena Island, to explore tidepools and hike up a desert canyon. Our thrill for the day came in the afternoon. While we sailed south toward the cape, we sighted a blue whale traveling north. We changed course to follow the mighty blue as it dove and surfaced in a predictable pattern typical of a migrating whale. We watched in wonder as it arched its broad back and raised its majestic flukes high to begin a dive.

Two hitchhiking frigatebirds rode with us around land's end. The early morning sunlight bathed the cape rocks at Cabo San Lucas in a rich amber light and cast a dramatic shadow on the famous Arch Rock. Frigatebirds perched on and soared above the tall, statuesque Friars Rock. Humpback whales highlighted the next few hours. An exuberant juvenile breached between the boat and shoreline, and a group of 12 humpbacks cavorted over the Gorda Banks. The Searcher cruised through flat seas boiling with bait fish and anchored in front of a quiet cove with a sandy beach. There we entered the underwater world of the Sea of Cortez and snorkeled among dazzling reef fish.

We visited another cove in the morning and eagerly entered the clear water again to view the great variety and vivid colors of the creatures in the sea. Schooling fish surrounded us, and bold-mannered and brilliantly colored angelfish spyed us suspiciously. In the afternoon, a huge group of bottlenose dolphins greeted us, performing astounding leaps and somersaults and racing toward the Searcher to ride its bow wave.

Humpbacks interrupted our breakfast. The aroma of coffee cake fresh out of the oven was not enough to keep us from finding our favorite perch on the deck for viewing whales. We were watching two animals traveling solo when one of them rolled on its side and began to slap its 15-foot pectoral flipper on the water. Each time the whale's white flipper struck the sea surface, we heard a resounding smack! Then we saw the two whales traveling together. We wondered if the slapper was sending a message to its companion.

The end of the trip and time to say good-bye arrived too soon. I thought of the lines in a poem from my childhood, and I knew that I would return, for just like the poet, "I must go down to the seas again."