“Okay, jump in! Go, go, go!” It could have been a wartime scene from a chopper except for the fact that we were eight middle aged women jumping off a pleasure boat in the clear blue waters off La Paz trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive whale shark. We had just arrived the day before by plane at San Jose del Cabo Airport- a group of women with no prior connections except that we all seemed to need to get a dose of nature and ocean far from our routine lives. Somehow, each of us had found this trip that promised a rugged adventure, sun, surf and wildlife. We were rounded into a bus and did an overnight in La Paz replete with a Mexican mariachi band to serenade us at dinner. Now we were headed for the island of Espiritu Santo.
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| Gear fitting and snorkel check out at the pool. |
Earlier in the day, we were fitted with full wetsuits and given an introduction to snorkeling in the hotel pool. Now, here we were on the same day being asked to jump in next to a 25 whale shark- and this one was a baby! The water was clear but haste was required. It would be my first sighting. I felt excited and a little nervous but the enthusiasm of the crew and our guide, Tara, egged me on. The boat circled into the vicinity of the whale shark and we jumped in three at a time with our wetsuits, snorkels and fins. While the whale shark was probably swimming in a relaxed mode- we tiny humans had to hustle to keep up with it. I’d forgotten how motion restrictive it was to wear a wetsuit. It swam past us so closely that some of us had to back away to avoid touching it or getting in the way of its powerful tail. Visibility was about 30’ and the depth was about 20-30’ deep. I was incredulous at its beauty and size- truly awe inspiring. It glided past us as if we weren’t there at all, a ghost fading into the distance.
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| A whale shark passing by. |
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| Our guide, Tara swimming with a whale shark. |
Our trip was sponsored by Becoming an Outdoor’s Woman (BOW), (www.uwsp.edu/cnr/bow) in partnership with Green Edventures (www.greenedventures.com). BOW is a national organization with chapters in each state usually under the aegis of their respective DEC’s, Department of Environmental Conservation. Green Edventures is a carbon-neutral eco-adventure program which supports indigenous people and local conservation. As our guide and coordinator we had the inestimable Tara Short, owner of Green Edventures. Her ability to transform a disparate group of women- old, young, conservative, liberal, northern, southern, etc.- into a very amiable gathering based on our common interests was really extraordinary. She was also responsible for scouting out the places we would go, the things we would see and securing the team of local guides that would make it all possible.
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| Our tents on the beach at camp. |
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Island Camp in Paradise
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After we’d all had two or three encounters with the whale shark, we pushed on along the eastern coast of Baja California Sur in the Sea of Cortés. While the famous Gray Whale calving period was through a month ago, there was still plenty to experience as we were to find out. As we approached the island through a shallow and protected bay we were met with a vision of ample tents set up along a pristine empty beach. A month before I had been to a luxe villa along the west coast of Mexico in the small town of Zihuatanejo. I had mentioned to my friends that I’d be doing the ‘roughing-it’ version of that in a month’s time. Well, I can say that I spoke too soon. The info packets that we were mailed had some photos of the campsite but nothing would prepare me for this scene. If I had thought ‘Gilligan’s Island’ before, it turned out to be more like ‘Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous who Camp’. If this was ‘roughing it’ I would be a willing participant any time. Because of the shallow depth, most of the passengers were ferried in by smaller craft. However, a new friend and adventurous spirit invited me to swim to shore with her and I gladly did the length of about two football fields with her. It was an experience of sensory depravation as all that was visible was the sandy bottom and the whiteness reflected in the water.
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| Shuttle to camp. |
Once gathered on the island, we were given a tour of the facilities and introduced to the men who maintained order here- two old hands and a young chef. We picked our tents and unpacked- there were even drawers! A nice added touch was a piece of carpet and a tub of water outside each tent to rinse off the feet before entering- though I found in practice that nothing kept the sand out. Then, as if we could handle more excitement, Chabelo lead us up a short but steep hike up the side of an adjacent mountain to a beautiful view of the sunset. It was a bit challenging and some opted not to continue to the top.
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| Group on the sunset hike. |
Living on Isla Espiritu Santo, what can I say- it was magical. The guides, a crew from a local outfitter and dive shop called Fun Baja (http://www.funbaja.com/ ) had set up a wonderful encampment complete with flushing toilets, showers, a dining tent and kitchen. One could see the attention to detail. The toilet and shower facilities made out of natural bamboo, the lavatory a beautiful monolithic stone basin set atop a section of driftwood infused with character. I shared a tent with a friend from home and we quickly fell into a rhythm of falling asleep to the sound of the ocean waves and the offshore breezes, getting up to breakfast prepared by a local chef and going off to the adventures of the day. Tara kept the schedule filled though all outings were optional and some did choose to stay and just enjoy the sun and the breeze from the comfort of beachside loungers. One of the most romantic things I experienced was brushing my teeth at water’s edge and spitting into the sea- such a far cry from the tame and sanitary porcelain basins of home. At night, after dinners, we would have the educational tequila lectures, a nice way to wind down an active day. Then, when all was still, out would come the ring tailed cats and the black tailed jack rabbits, just eyes in the darkness illuminated by the starry night sky.
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| Morning fruit and coffee before breakfast. |
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| Tents at camp under a starry sky. |
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| Peggy on the "Cross Island Hike". |
The next day, we did a rigorous cross island hike, with our guides, Chabelo and Joel, pointing out various interesting facts about the flora and fauna. They also kept us very amused with their antics and Mexican jokes. Don’t ask, but by the end of the hike we were calling them ‘Jumping Cholo’ and ‘Pooping Dog.’ Once across the rugged stony terrain following a seasonal ravine, we reached a wonderful overlook where the rocky cliffs fell down to the sea. We rested a while and watched for marine mammals down below. For this hike, we decided after about 20 minutes of catch-up-and-wait, that it would be better to divide the group into two to accommodate different speeds of trekking. I was in the lead group and we managed to return back to camp about 2 hours before the next group. Our hike time was about 1 ½ hours but felt more like 3 with all the rock scrambling and climbing in desert heat. It must have felt like eternity to the stoic Chris. She had mistepped on to a loose rock and went hurtling to the ground. Later she would find that it was a sprained wrist but we wouldn’t have known it at the time because she was such a trooper about it. Once back, we donned our suits and sat out in the ocean watching the fish nip at our feet. I especially enjoyed seeing so many pufferfish- their large brown eyes and puffy heads lending them a very cartoon like quality. Speaking of which, I came to learn that it should have been mandatory to see ‘Finding Nemo’ which turns out to be a very good educational fish identification film and which Tara constantly referred to when she described the various species we were seeing.
Once everyone returned, we had lunch and then took off again by boat to snorkel with the sea lions of Los Islotes, a small island about a half hour away. As we arrived near the island we viewed a whirlwind of sea lion activity. They were sunbathing, plunging in, popping out, twirling underwater; a boisterous scene of frolicking. It’s hard not to anthropomorphize these creatures- but if I do come back to this world, I’d like to be a sea lion with no sharks or orcas about. Once in the water it was captivating to watch their grace underwater. They acknowledged us- wryly it seemed- and had a gentle curiosity about us. Chabelo, the Sea-Lion-Whisperer, was a magnet. He would engage one at a time by wriggling his fingers enticingly. They’d glide to him and nip his hand gently and then they seemed to perform for him. They really do make eye contact which I found beautiful- it’s so rare to make such connections with wildlife.
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| Vicki playing with a sea lion. |
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| Pat and a sea lion saying hello. |
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| Sea lions at play. |
After the excitement of communing with the sea lions, we went off to a quiet spot where we were able to improve our snorkel skills. Upon returning to the campsite, we had a lovely mole´dinner followed by a lesson on the intricacies of making it by our chef, Mario. The day was a full one and we gladly passed out in our tents.
The next day we returned to the sea lions first by snorkel and then a few of us opted to do a dive in the afternoon. Chris did an introductory dive and was well shepherded by Chabelo during most of it. Tara and I were dive buddies- which I forgot for some while until she reminded me as I wandered off following sea lions. I got a beauty to come up to me and, after a bit of coaxing, nip my fingers gently. She performed underwater aerial feats for me much to my pleasure. At one point, Chabelo got us together and wrote the following on his underwater chalkboard: “Swim Vertical”. Well, you know I did my best. After a few moments of incomprehension – he quickly scrubbed it off and replaced it with “Swim Horizontal.” Much better. Language is key. Don’t think we let him off the hook gently either. I think we all actually laughed into our regulators. The crown of this dive for me was the moment I actually got bitten by another sea lion, this one much more aggressive. I did the finger waving dance and he came right up and took my hand in his mouth… and didn’t let go. Well, I’d forgotten Chabelo’s advice aboard ship. He mentioned that if a sea lion doesn’t let go of your hand, you have to tickle it’s ribs. Well, that was far from my mind as I contemplated life without my hand. I was very still and after a while he let go. I was hoping to have a battle scar to show for it but alas, all signs of it are gone now. As he let go of my hand, he went on to my flipper, pulling for the life of him. Eventually he swam away. I got it all in high definition with my helmet cam so I can relive that moment again when I get too land-locked.
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| Sue SCUBA diving with a group of playful sea lions. |
Leaving the camp, we headed back to La Paz for a little turista visit. We ate a family style lunch at a local cantina and then were steered to the tourist shops along the Malecone. This is the very civic and very long stretch of seaside quay- beautiful stone paving along the miles of white sand and ocean. It seems all the locals enjoy the stroll along here. Only later did I learn that this was the site of one of my favorite scenes from the movie “You Don’t Mess with the Zohan.” The opening scene tracks a very well built Adam Sandler as he struts down the white sandy beach along the Malecon inspiring all with his macho swagger.
On the eve of our last day, we toasted to our good fortune and new friends at a local restaurant. It was hard to leave this paradise. On the way to the airport, Tara and I sang old songs from the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s to keep the group in good cheer- or at the very least distracted by our disharmonious singing. We said our goodbyes and parted to our gates. Tara’s refrain was insistent in my head: “I heart the ocean.”
Note from Green Edventures: You can be part of the next adventure!! BAJA BOW 2011 is open for registration. Save the date April 14-20, 2011 and register here: http://www.uwsp.edu/cnr/bow/Baja.aspx
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| The ride to the airport. The group is acting like they are on a roller coaster as we go over big hills. |
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| Author Susan Sie (Right) and her travel buddy Vicki on the beach at camp. |
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