Puerto Gato and Isla San Jose
The offshore view of the Baja California Peninsula is a complex of ridges, mesas and cliff bands that stair-step up to a ragged volcanic skyline. The golden light of morning mellowed the craggy background and added to our desire to be on land. Smack dab in the middle of the scenery was Puerto Gato, the center of our morning activities. Many of the shoreline rocks were red cross-bedded sandstones laid down on a sea floor long ago during the early formation of the gulf. Tectonic activity brought it to the surface as the peninsula rocked westward, pulling its eastern edge up and out of the sea. What a joy it is to walk over these rounded mounds that look like giant sheets of crumpled bubble wrap.
Hikers headed in all directions. Some followed the beach line, while others climbed to the summit of a challenging hilltop. We looked down on red and yellow kayaks that appeared to float above rather than on top of the clear water. A few paddle strokes and a very long glide showed that those in the boats were mesmerized by the scenery and their own forward motion. To the southeast stretched a beige crescent beach with rocky reefs beneath rocky cliff faces that narrowed in the distance. From the hilltop we could see the anchored National Geographic Sea Bird, the landing beach and the ant-sized people far below. We returned by running down a 200-foot-high sand dune and climbing around immense sandstone boulders at the water’s edge.
The reef here also held many delights for those who poked around in tide pools or snorkeled amongst the rocks. The water was especially clear. The snorkelers found brown urchins that have spines more like stiff hair, king angelfish that gracefully patrolled the rocky shore, and Cortez rainbow wrasses in small gatherings.
We pulled anchor before lunch and soon encountered a group of pelicans, Heermann’s gulls and frigatebirds diving and flying above a school of fish. As we drew closer, we found long-beaked common dolphins amongst the ruckus. We could follow the movements of the fish by watching the birds that could see the fish from above. Many of the dolphins were drawn to the ship for a free ride from the pressure wave formed by the hull; they rode the ship’s wake like underwater surfers. Our hull-mounted hydrophone allowed us to eavesdrop into the clicks and whistles of these marine mammals. Everyone was thrilled, and the photographers were giddy with delight.
As we cruised south in the afternoon, a fin whale surfaced and then pilot whales were spotted. We stayed with the “pot heads,” as they were once called. These large dolphins are included in a group called “the blackfish,” along with killer whales, false killer whales, and melon-headed whales. They feed primarily on squid using their superb echolocation system. There were perhaps 15 to 20 individuals and one large bull identified by his larger size and dorsal fin.
Our officers anchored the National Geographic Sea Bird, off Isla San Jose for an evening barbecue ashore. Beachcombing, socializing and digging into a delicious dinner were in full swing as the sun painted the partly cloudy sky with washes of pink. A cheery campfire brought out song from all including Mexican guitar music from Alberto and other songs from our guests.
