San Jose del Cabo/Gorda Banks
What beauty. What splendor. What a big, big rich day. We woke this morning in gentle swells and walked out on deck as sunrise lit the dramatic granite of Land’s End, the famed rocks that spar out from Cabo San Lucas into the Sea of Cortez. The captain nudged the National Geographic Sea Bird in close enough that we could hear and smell the California sea lions lounging on the tide-flushed rocks as well as the birds roosting on the steep faces that soared overhead. In the warm early light, the red gular pouches of magnificent frigatebirds glowed their health—each male hoping to advertise his fitness to the nearby females. Pelicans and brown boobies soared off for a day of fishing.
A few hours later, we docked in the quiet harbor of San Jose del Cabo. Most of us headed to the estuary to see what birds might be taking advantage of the fresh water there—a resource valuable and scarce in this desert. Yesterday’s rain had swelled the banks, and we spotted black-crowned night herons, blue-winged teals, and a host of other water birds as well as bright passerines: vermillion flycatchers, hooded orioles, the endemic Belding’s yellowthroat, northern cardinals, and more. Not to worry—we did not neglect the streets of San Jose del Cabo. We strolled, we browsed, we admired the bright yellow town hall and buildings of this historic town.
After lunch, we spent the day searching for wildlife on the water. Our only difficulty: choosing which group of spouting whales to approach. It seemed that the sea was alive with spouts. Every pair of eyes on the bow could spot a whale, a pair of whales, a group of whales exhaling or crashing onto the water’s surface.
Perhaps it can be chalked up to the storms of yesterday, perhaps the change in barometric pressure, the wind, the particular alignment of Jupiter in relation to the moon… in any case, the whales were incredibly active. We were able to observe many groups of humpbacks charging through the water in surface active groups. The horizon continually exploded with spray. Breach! Breach! We cried out, and from far to near, the whales did indeed breach, flinging their bodies up into the air as if they wanted to be shearwaters (we did, by the way, see black-vented shearwaters soaring close along the troughs of waves between whale sightings).
Until the sun set, we watched blows lift above the sea surface and, at sunset, we gathered on the bridge deck and enjoyed mojitos and ceviche as the day’s light waned and the drama around us faded from view…. and what was that ahead? Lightning? Indeed, the night sky was lit by bright flashes.
Now we sail northward, eager to set foot on the islands of the Gulf of California, curious to see what the rich rains have brought, open to whatever might come in the next few days.
