Gulf of California & Isla Santa Catalina
The desert and the sea, two places so different and yet so much the same in the lives of man.
The water surrounds us, immerses our senses and minds and yet we cannot drink of its salinity. Nor can we explore the depths with unencumbered bodies for we must breathe. But life abounds from microscopic creatures to those more massive than ourselves, from deep trenches thousands of feet below us and throughout the water column to where the breezes tickle the glassy surface drawing patterns here and there.
Moonlight drew silhouettes of island contours and the sharp escarpment of the Sierra de la Giganta guarding the eastern edge of the Baja Peninsula. Hiding behind Isla San Jose the rising sun cast cotton candy streamers high decorating the brightening blue of the sky and coating the surface of the sea with a magenta wash. Common dolphins danced towards our bow murmuring their morning greeting with pulses of squeaks and clicks. As the solar radiation warmed the quiescent air we motored north following the track of more of these entertaining inhabitants of the deep. Their directed motion changed and so did we as we hovered as they fed. The frenzy in the water, the leaping, splashing and twirling was matched upon our decks as we dashed from side to side to the sound of shutters clicking. Here and there sea lions drifted, flippers raised to gather up the sun. A pair of humpbacks meandered back and forth, inching ever closer in a game of hide and seek. They took the prize for stealth, surfacing under the bow, every inch of their bodies visible in the transparent sea. At the foot of a giant elephant we immersed ourselves garbed in masks and snorkels and for a brief period we felt as if we might belong to this silent world where colorful fish floated freely.
But the smell of the desert beckoned and we walked upon the sands of Isla Santa Catalina. Here too we could not dwell due to the dearth of fresh water. And yet here too life flourishes. The monsters of the cactus world marched upon the hillsides. Rotund giant barrels with sagging rolls sported deep orange blossoms on their crowns. Massive cardon specimens reached skyward with their many arms. Here and there a creamy bloom showed like a jewel upon a bracelet. These succulent forms and their relatives dissociate from the rain holding moisture in their trunks ready for times of drought. Thorny shrubs were displaying colors more frequently associated with autumn. It is not the coming of winter that wisks their leaves away but the drying of the soil. Here and there tiny annuals rushed to reproduce, their colorful petals beckoning a bee or insect to aid in the task. No plant casts their progeny unprotected. Inflated pods, wooden husks or spiny covered fruits will tumble and roll and rest quiescently until the rains appear.
The desert and the sea, we have been captivated by their majesty.
