Boca de Soledad, Baja California Sur
Another spectacular sunrise set the tone for the day. The calm water of this inshore lagoon was rippled here and there by gray whales as they moved casually past our ship. We were lying quietly at anchor. The whales are here to give new life to their growing population; or to breed, so that next year at this same time the results of their watery union will emerge to breathe.
The California gray whale has come back from the brink of extinction. Pummeled by whaling ships that discovered these tidal lagoons in the 1800s, this almost-prehistoric mammal appears to have regained its pre-whaling population size. Historic summering waters off the coast of Washington and British Columbia are now being reoccupied. Like the humpback whale, which suffered the same devastation, empty habitats are being rediscovered. Amazingly, the gray whale has been removed from the endangered species list.
We were the whales’ guests, honoured to be approached closely by now-trusting individuals, some of which may even have been alive during the killing days. It is difficult to explain the excitement, amazement, humility and, initially, even the fear that overwhelms us as sleek animals, larger by far than our rubber boats, approach, slide under, bump a little, emerge and blow so near.
The sun warmed the calm air. A cool escape awaited us among the green mangroves in a narrow passageway that separates the fog-desert island of Magdalena from the main peninsula. Life abounds among the salty mangroves. Herons and egrets rested. Hidden warblers sounded at our presence. Tiny fish cruised the shallows. In our silent kayaks and soft Zodiacs we melded into the scene, to become part of that life.
Another spectacular sunrise set the tone for the day. The calm water of this inshore lagoon was rippled here and there by gray whales as they moved casually past our ship. We were lying quietly at anchor. The whales are here to give new life to their growing population; or to breed, so that next year at this same time the results of their watery union will emerge to breathe.
The California gray whale has come back from the brink of extinction. Pummeled by whaling ships that discovered these tidal lagoons in the 1800s, this almost-prehistoric mammal appears to have regained its pre-whaling population size. Historic summering waters off the coast of Washington and British Columbia are now being reoccupied. Like the humpback whale, which suffered the same devastation, empty habitats are being rediscovered. Amazingly, the gray whale has been removed from the endangered species list.
We were the whales’ guests, honoured to be approached closely by now-trusting individuals, some of which may even have been alive during the killing days. It is difficult to explain the excitement, amazement, humility and, initially, even the fear that overwhelms us as sleek animals, larger by far than our rubber boats, approach, slide under, bump a little, emerge and blow so near.
The sun warmed the calm air. A cool escape awaited us among the green mangroves in a narrow passageway that separates the fog-desert island of Magdalena from the main peninsula. Life abounds among the salty mangroves. Herons and egrets rested. Hidden warblers sounded at our presence. Tiny fish cruised the shallows. In our silent kayaks and soft Zodiacs we melded into the scene, to become part of that life.
