Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, October 8, 1995 TAG: 9510110020
SECTION: TRAVEL PAGE: F-8 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: SHIRLEY JORDAN
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
With a dozen other passengers, I was looking down at the off-center blow hole characteristic of sperm whales. The 30-foot ``baby'' bobbed closer and closer to the ship. In a moment, he might bump the side. ``He's probably terrified,'' said naturalist Libby Mills. ``His mother is diving to feed and, at his age, he's not able to go that deep.''
Suddenly, there was a mighty eruption below the surface of the water. As we drew back, startled, Mother Whale returned from her feeding foray. With a surge, she broke the water and, for a moment, her 65-foot body seemed to be taking flight. Then, with a mighty splat, she was on the surface, nudging her baby reassuringly.
A sigh of relief escaped our group. In a moment, mother and child had their tails up, black flukes shining in the morning sun. Plunging to safety in the deep waters of Santa Rosalia Bay, they soon disappeared from sight.
From the start, this day had held promise. Passing through the breakfast buffet, my husband, Dean, spotted an 80-foot fin-back whale, spinning on its side a few yards from the broad window of the dining salon.
We hurried above to ``assume the position,'' pressing against the front of the ship and stretching to peer down at the bow wake, where 30 common dolphins dashed and darted, surfing the tumbling water.
Within minutes, there was a cry from the bridge as three manta rays appeared on our starboard side, flipping and turning above the water like flat stones skipped by a giant hand. On the port side, churning water, flecked with white caps, announced the arrival of some 40 bottle nose dolphins.
It was an hour later that the baby whale and his mother nudged our ship. In the distance we could see a dozen more sperm whales circling. ``We've got dolphins leading us from one pod of whales to the next,'' Mills told us. ``It doesn't get much better than that!'
Our journey had begun five days earlier, when we checked into our cabin on the yacht-like Sea Lion. Measuring 152 feet and drawing but eight feet of water, the ship allows for close-up-and-personal approaches to islands, reefs and coves.
Company brochures had outlined our itinerary. First we were to sail north to San Ignacio Lagoon, where the Mexican government had issued a permit for Zodiac landing craft to explore the waters where protected California gray whales give birth to their young.
Unfortunately, Pacific storms from Southern California had produced pounding surf all along the western shores of Baja. After six hours of hurling the ship northward that first night, Sea Lion Capt. Mark Graves was forced to give up and turn the ship's prow into Bahia Magalena (Magdalena Bay), another gray whale breeding ground, but one from which most whales had departed by the time of our late March sailing.
Leaving itinerary concerns to Graves, company officials in New York and the Mexican government, we began our morning at Magdalena Bay by piling into four Zodiac landing craft with the ship's scientific staff, Mills, biologist Gary James, ecologist William Lopez-Forment and natural history specialist Rob Fernau.
Bobbing across the waves, we headed for a small fishing camp among the mangroves, an isolated spot boasting the largest colony of frigate birds in Mexico. Wading ashore onto a beach dotted with lean-tos and simple tents, our group gathered quietly across a small stream from the thick grove of mangrove trees bursting with hundreds of frigate bird families.
Unlike other species that observe specific annual nesting patterns, these birds co-exist in all stages of the life cycle. A single tree may hold male birds with their brilliant red throats extended in a sexual come-hither, white-feathered juveniles, downy newborns, and females sitting upon eggs the required 60 days This visit to the frigate birds would be but the first sighting of 67 bird species we encountered on the 10-day trip.
Because the islands of Baja's waters are all designated as preserves, our days held many opportunities to observe plants and animals of the region. Another special experience, this time with sea lions, came after we rounded Baja's tip at Cabo San Lucas and sailed into the Sea of Cortez.
``Try to dive and glide the way they do," Fernau told us, as our ship approached Los Islotes, a handful of small rocky islands off Isla Partida, north of La Paz. ``These young sea lions are so friendly they'll come right up to you if they think you want to play.''
He continued with a caution. ``If you go too close to their rocks you might find one of the mature bulls diving into the water to chase you away from his harem. If that happens, you'll be sure to come out second best.''
Timidly, we donned our snorkels and fins. Sliding from the Zodiac, we swam toward the rocks.
Almost immediately, we were surrounded by sleek, gliding forms. Below our feet, four young sea lions rose and dipped like the horses on an underwater carousel. I caught my breath as a yearling swam directly toward my face mask. With what I will always insist was a sea lion grin, he turned at the last moment and glided past, only to circle around and renew this friendly game of ``chicken.''
It was hard to tear ourselves away, but eventually we returned to the ship, tired and hungry, all of us with sea lion tales to tell.
Later that day, we walked into the old French copper-mining town of Santa Rosalia, where we strolled streets lined with two-story wooden buildings with decorative balconies. In the center of town we found its most famous landmark, a surprisingly-simple mosaic church designed by A.E. Eiffel, of Paris tower fame.
Most days began at a new location, as the ship sailed northward each night. In the morning, we learned about the nearest islands and the best snorkeling opportunities, and hiking groups were organized according to easy, medium or hard terrain. For reasons of information and safety, a naturalist, with a walkie-talkie, accompanied each group.
By week's end, we'd sighted 66 bird species, 58 fish (vertebrates and invertebrates) and 35 plants indigenous to the Baja peninsula. Our group spotted a rare brown snake on Isla Margarita and the famous black-tailed jack rabbit that lives only on the island of Espiritu Santo. .
If you go ...
Special Expeditions offers 10-day trips to Baja on the Sea Lion, with departures Jan. 10-March 25, 1996. Rates are $2,990 to $4,290 per person. All cabins are outside and have private baths. The ship's maximum capacity is 70 passengers.
There are no extra charges except at the bar, which offers reasonably priced well drinks. Soft drinks are available in an ice chest, with an honor-system sign-up sheet.
The ship sails from La Paz, Mexico. Group flights from Tucson are offered through the company at about $265 round trip, and include transfer to the Los Arcos hotel for a buffet dinner and first night's stay. In addition, Aero California and Aeromexico fly nonstop from some U.S. gateway cities. For reservations or more information, contact Special Expeditions at (800) 762-0003.
by CNB