Los Islotes and Isla Espiritu-Santo
No sun yet, it is early, just stars. The Southern Cross stands alert and upright on the horizon, eagerly identified by the pointer stars, Alpha and Beta Centaurus. There is a light wind from the northwest stirring up a gentle chop that helps push us along towards our morning destination, Los Islotes, a peculiar stack of rocks a few hundred yards long and less than fifty wide.
As the sun rises we begin our turn around the island, leaving her to starboard as we tuck into the channel between Los Islotes and Isla Partida, her big sister to the south. From this side the new light highlights the rich reds and browns of her pyroclastic cliffs, compressed ash from ancient eruptions to the east, each ledge topped with white guano from hundreds of birds, past and present. Our arrival is heralded by the barks and clamor of dozens of California sea lions scattered amongst the low and not so low rocks.
There seems to be a lot of excitement. Brown pelicans sit on a cliff watching the quiet inshore waters. Their long faces radiate a sense of dignity and gravity, they could be a supreme council debating important issues, but a closer look reveals an intensity, an eagerness, a ‘cocked and loaded’ attitude. Then suddenly they are up, in the air, plunging into the water with timed precision, one after another like a gigantic pinwheel toppling from the cliff and spinning into the sea. Then it is quiet again as the pelicans sit on the water, throwing back their heads, enjoying yet another helping of their breakfast buffet. The water must be teaming with fish.
After our more leisurely meal, we take to the Zodiacs for a closer look. Now we can see the brown boobies nesting on the cliff edges. They will spend weeks here with the tips of their beaks an inch from the rock, not much of a view, but they have more important business to attend to. Scattered about are their cousins, blue-footed boobies. There is one just above, slowly picking up one foot after another, back and forth, showing no one in particular that they are indeed blue. No chicks yet, just eggs as a jet-black raven showed us when it took off with one in its beak.
This sea lion herd is a collection of females with this year’s and last year’s pups, and sub-adult males. The larger males have already left for better fishing grounds now that the summer breeding is long over. The remaining sea lions almost ignore us, bored with the adoration of their frequent human visitors, the females and young males that is, the pups don’t even pretend to sleep, their eyes shine with anticipation, they slither off the rocks and cavort next to the Zodiacs. Now it is time for an even closer look.
For the truly enthusiastic, and there are many, after the Zodiac there is opportunity to snorkel in the somewhat chilly water. As soon as we jump into the water we know what the pelicans were up to, there is a cloud of baitfish, anchovies perhaps, like a huge living curtain. Always in front of us, but never close enough to touch, giving way like the propagation of a silent shock preceding our inefficient movements. But there is no need to go anywhere, the sea lions come to us, gliding and rolling, big eyes in our faces, a barrel-roll and a coy look over their shoulders as they dance, over and over again, but not enough. And there were other creatures too, like this smiling balloonfish. Then it is time to go, we have not even had lunch yet and there is still the afternoon, another island, walking, finding the rare black jackrabbit, kayaking and yet more snorkeling. There is always tonight to pack or even better, early tomorrow morning. It is better to watch another gorgeous sunset before the Farewell festivities, dinner, a digestion-aiding stroll about the deck, under the moon, as we lay at anchor on the last page of story we will never forget.
No sun yet, it is early, just stars. The Southern Cross stands alert and upright on the horizon, eagerly identified by the pointer stars, Alpha and Beta Centaurus. There is a light wind from the northwest stirring up a gentle chop that helps push us along towards our morning destination, Los Islotes, a peculiar stack of rocks a few hundred yards long and less than fifty wide.
As the sun rises we begin our turn around the island, leaving her to starboard as we tuck into the channel between Los Islotes and Isla Partida, her big sister to the south. From this side the new light highlights the rich reds and browns of her pyroclastic cliffs, compressed ash from ancient eruptions to the east, each ledge topped with white guano from hundreds of birds, past and present. Our arrival is heralded by the barks and clamor of dozens of California sea lions scattered amongst the low and not so low rocks.
There seems to be a lot of excitement. Brown pelicans sit on a cliff watching the quiet inshore waters. Their long faces radiate a sense of dignity and gravity, they could be a supreme council debating important issues, but a closer look reveals an intensity, an eagerness, a ‘cocked and loaded’ attitude. Then suddenly they are up, in the air, plunging into the water with timed precision, one after another like a gigantic pinwheel toppling from the cliff and spinning into the sea. Then it is quiet again as the pelicans sit on the water, throwing back their heads, enjoying yet another helping of their breakfast buffet. The water must be teaming with fish.
After our more leisurely meal, we take to the Zodiacs for a closer look. Now we can see the brown boobies nesting on the cliff edges. They will spend weeks here with the tips of their beaks an inch from the rock, not much of a view, but they have more important business to attend to. Scattered about are their cousins, blue-footed boobies. There is one just above, slowly picking up one foot after another, back and forth, showing no one in particular that they are indeed blue. No chicks yet, just eggs as a jet-black raven showed us when it took off with one in its beak.
This sea lion herd is a collection of females with this year’s and last year’s pups, and sub-adult males. The larger males have already left for better fishing grounds now that the summer breeding is long over. The remaining sea lions almost ignore us, bored with the adoration of their frequent human visitors, the females and young males that is, the pups don’t even pretend to sleep, their eyes shine with anticipation, they slither off the rocks and cavort next to the Zodiacs. Now it is time for an even closer look.
For the truly enthusiastic, and there are many, after the Zodiac there is opportunity to snorkel in the somewhat chilly water. As soon as we jump into the water we know what the pelicans were up to, there is a cloud of baitfish, anchovies perhaps, like a huge living curtain. Always in front of us, but never close enough to touch, giving way like the propagation of a silent shock preceding our inefficient movements. But there is no need to go anywhere, the sea lions come to us, gliding and rolling, big eyes in our faces, a barrel-roll and a coy look over their shoulders as they dance, over and over again, but not enough. And there were other creatures too, like this smiling balloonfish. Then it is time to go, we have not even had lunch yet and there is still the afternoon, another island, walking, finding the rare black jackrabbit, kayaking and yet more snorkeling. There is always tonight to pack or even better, early tomorrow morning. It is better to watch another gorgeous sunset before the Farewell festivities, dinner, a digestion-aiding stroll about the deck, under the moon, as we lay at anchor on the last page of story we will never forget.
