Bahia Magdalena
Anchored within view of the Boca de Soledad, huge breakers crashing on the sand bars of this entrance to the Magdalena Bay complex, we set off in Zodiacs to see what wildlife might reveal itself to us.
In the turbulence of the Boca and in the quieter reaches of the lagoons, grey whales rose to breathe, and we all crowded to see them. Charles Scammon, the whaler who opened these bays to commercial hunt, said of the greys: “these whales are possessed of unusual sagacity,” and of course we agree today. There is wisdom in the ability to navigate thousands of miles in migration, to find both forage and shelter in the vast stretch of Pacific coastline, to make a living in an indifferent expanse of ocean.
The local panga drivers who came with us in our Zodiacs said that it is an odd year—fisheries have shifted locations and sea lions are acting strange. The arrival of the grey whales here, however, has begun, as it does every year and as it has for thousands of years.
In the afternoon, many of us went ashore to take some solitary time with the seashells and driftwood scattered at the tide line and to hike dunes tracked by coyotes. Coyote tracks converging on sea lion bones, coyote tracks crossing each other on the soft sand—what a surprise to find so much activity on this island. A few ashore and in Zodiacs were lucky enough to see one of these elusive canids pacing the flats near mangrove stands, more than likely as curious about us as we are about them.
Other tracks revealed the paths of hermit crabs, ghost crabs, mice and the many cormorants, pelicans, and gulls that roost on this island. Toward evening, all were treated to one of the most dramatic signs of this area’s bounty: hundreds of plunge-diving pelicans feeding on sardines, the pelicans in turn harassed by Heermann’s and Western gulls. All the while, terns scanned for their own prey and cormorants dove through the chaos.
Tired from a day of intense attention, our own feast lured us back to the Sea Lion: dinner prepared by a local restaurant in the nearby town of Lopez Mateos and serenades from El Maestro y sus Alumnos (The Teacher and his Students).
Anchored within view of the Boca de Soledad, huge breakers crashing on the sand bars of this entrance to the Magdalena Bay complex, we set off in Zodiacs to see what wildlife might reveal itself to us.
In the turbulence of the Boca and in the quieter reaches of the lagoons, grey whales rose to breathe, and we all crowded to see them. Charles Scammon, the whaler who opened these bays to commercial hunt, said of the greys: “these whales are possessed of unusual sagacity,” and of course we agree today. There is wisdom in the ability to navigate thousands of miles in migration, to find both forage and shelter in the vast stretch of Pacific coastline, to make a living in an indifferent expanse of ocean.
The local panga drivers who came with us in our Zodiacs said that it is an odd year—fisheries have shifted locations and sea lions are acting strange. The arrival of the grey whales here, however, has begun, as it does every year and as it has for thousands of years.
In the afternoon, many of us went ashore to take some solitary time with the seashells and driftwood scattered at the tide line and to hike dunes tracked by coyotes. Coyote tracks converging on sea lion bones, coyote tracks crossing each other on the soft sand—what a surprise to find so much activity on this island. A few ashore and in Zodiacs were lucky enough to see one of these elusive canids pacing the flats near mangrove stands, more than likely as curious about us as we are about them.
Other tracks revealed the paths of hermit crabs, ghost crabs, mice and the many cormorants, pelicans, and gulls that roost on this island. Toward evening, all were treated to one of the most dramatic signs of this area’s bounty: hundreds of plunge-diving pelicans feeding on sardines, the pelicans in turn harassed by Heermann’s and Western gulls. All the while, terns scanned for their own prey and cormorants dove through the chaos.
Tired from a day of intense attention, our own feast lured us back to the Sea Lion: dinner prepared by a local restaurant in the nearby town of Lopez Mateos and serenades from El Maestro y sus Alumnos (The Teacher and his Students).
