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From: Kurt Wolfsberg, INTERNET:kwolfs@worldnet.att.net
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LOG OF THE POLARIS VOYAGE - ENSENADA, MEXICO TO LORETTO, MEXICO
Sunday, January 17
We left northern New Mexico on Saturday with light snow sifting down like
powdered sugar, coating the pinyons and the sage, the mesas and the valley,
and this continued almost to Albuquerque. We chatted and were feeling very
smug about knowing we would soon be in sunny warm Southern California, and
even warmer Mexico. On Sunday the wind was up even in the early morning,
knocking over potted plants on my sister-in-law's patio in Corona del Mar,
California, and we were scurrying around, putting the orchids in safe
places and righting the others that had been knocked over. The rain began
coming down heavily with the wind force capable of bending good sized
trees. It wasn't really cold, but it was far from warm.
As we drove down to San Diego, the rain was intermittently heavy to
moderate. We were somewhat cautious on the freeway because of the wind and
water. In San Diego, in addition to the sporadic rain squalls, it was
blowing hard enough to discourage us from walking around the waterfront.
The Polaris was docked in the harbor, but departed shortly after we
arrived. As we waited for this adventure to begin in the lobby of the San
Diego Holiday Inn, we watched the wind blow whitecaps on the pool. A piece
of roof pulled off a small building and fell to the cement by the side of
the pool and various rooftop structures on neighboring buildings bent and
swayed precariously.
We were loaded onto the buses for Ensenada around 3:30 p.m. because the
Mexican government permissions didn't allow us to get on the Polaris in San
Diego. As we got on the buses, we were told that because of the storm, the
ship probably would not get to Ensenada before 7:00 p.m. We were
originally scheduled to board around 5:00 p.m. The buses, Mexican, and not
generally prepared for cold weather, were not heated, and people wore their
raincoats or jackets to keep warm as we headed south to Ensenada.
As we crossed the border into Mexico, the sun broke through and shone
gloriously, albeit relatively briefly, and generated transitory rainbows.
The ride along the sea displayed outstandingly beautiful vistas of the
ocean from the road high above and many instances of poverty and squalor at
eye level. There were occasionally some very nice habitations on the
route. We noted that along the entire two hour trip there was almost no
electricity in the houses. We thought the people didn't have or couldn't
afford electricity. We later found out that the storm had knocked out
electricity all down the coast.
At Ensenada, we stopped at a really nice hotel and bar restaurant, the San
Nicolas, and Lindblad paid for Margaritas or beer for everyone. We found
out that the ship was now due at 8 PM. We got tostados, refritos and salsa
a bit later and more margaritas and beer and learned that the ship was
due at 9 P.M. The restaurant was unheated so we all moved toward the back,
out of the wind coming in through open portals. The trees were bending,
the rain was pelting, and the surf was up again in the hotel pool.
At 10 o'clock or so, still without dinner, we were finally transported to
the ship in buses. The wind continued to blow forcibly and the buses
taking us to the ship passed sea walls with water pouring over them. The
buses were driving through several inches of water, which also had little
waves. When we got off the bus, although the ship was tied to the pier,
several people had to hold the gangplank steady for us to go up, because the
ship was bouncing so actively on its moorings.
We threw our jackets in the cabin, the luggage still had to be brought
aboard, and went to the reception area to check in with Mexican immigration
officials, which meant leaving our passports and an immigration card with
the Lindblad purser for him to do whatever he does with the Mexican
officials. We proceeded to the Lounge for snacks and more free drinks.
Lindblad is very good about that -- anything goes wrong, and it's free
drinks for all! At about 11 P.M., they announced dinner. They served melon
with prosciutto, vichyssoise, a pork schnitzel with a sauce, beans and rice,
cabbage salad, french bread, and peach and chocolate ice cream. We just
about inhaled it; we were so ravenous.
At dinner we were asked if we would mind if they put us in another cabin.
We didn't care, so we said "fine." We were told that there was something
wrong with our cabin. After dinner, we went to the replacement cabin, and
it was terrific -- twice the size of the other, a sofa, desk, two big arm
chairs, as well as the beds. We were delighted. Our luggage had already
been delivered there, and we went back to the old cabin to get our jackets.
We were putting away our clothes, when they announced that due to the
storm, we would be staying tied up at Ensenada until morning. We were just
in bed when they announced that the wind had changed and was blowing the
wrong way, and that we could no longer stay in the harbor because some big
tuna boats had broken loose and were piling into boats, piers, etc. We
were told to secure our stuff and that we were going to go out of the
harbor, which had become too dangerous, and would travel four miles to an
island outside the harbor and anchor in its lee until the end of the storm.
(The Polaris it appears was also breaking all of its moorings, fifteen big
ropes, and it was impossible to keep it tied to the pier). They told us it
would be a rough ride.
We had everything pretty much put away, so we closed all the doors and
drawers and let it go at that. The ship headed out and that was a ride I
won't forget for a long time, if ever. As the Polaris cleared the harbor,
we were hit with a wall of water. Kurt and I were clutching our beds
trying to keep from being thrown out of them. Small books on the shelves,
my brushes on the desk, an ashtray on the table, the pitcher of ice water
flew through the air. Suddenly the music on the intercom ceased to play.
I sat up in my bed, held on the window sill, and watched the ship climb
waves as tall as high buildings and then drop into troughs that deep or
deeper. It rose and fell like an out of control elevator, pitching and
yawing from one side to the other as it went. I thought about going over
to the closet where we had our wetsuits and life preservers and decided
that there was no way I could get over there, and it probably didn't matter
anyway. We were on the Third Deck up and waves smashed against my window and
crashed over us. Kurt lay in his bed, and it, with him in it, went
sliding six feet across the cabin. With the next wave, it slid about four
feet back. It was some hell of a roller coaster ride. The waves were 30
feet high and more. I think that 4-mile run took the better part of the
rest of the night, because I gave up watching the show and tried to get
some sleep around 3 A.M. Sleep was almost impossible, because of the
pitching and tossing of the ship, and I had to hold onto the bed to stay in
it.
I didn't see the island until around 6 A.M., but we may have been in its
lee a little earlier than that. The reason it was hard to tell is that it
was a very small island and there wasn't much of a lee. The ship continued
to roll and pitch. We found out that as the ship cleared the harbor, two
huge waves hit it with tremendous force. The first broke a window on the
bridge, wiping out the steering and electronics, and the second broke six
windows in the dining room.
Monday, January 18
The Polaris is going around in circles in the lee of the Island, Isla Todos
los Santos. The island looks like it is mainly rock with one major peak.
The storm continues, but the waves are not so high here. It is still very
difficult to walk, even around the cabin, and the storm, a typhoon, seems
like it may be building up again. They brought us some yoghurt, a pear,
some cellophane wrapped saltines, and a can of fruit juice each for
breakfast, because I don't think they can cook, and they don't think we can
eat or walk to the dining room. Part of that may be true. I, for one, was
pretty hungry, and ate everything they gave me. Kurt is feeling pretty
seasick, but he is doped up with bonine and a transderm patch. Hopefully,
he will feel better when the weather settles. I feel fine, but the boat
pitches so much, I could hardly keep my balance to walk around when I got
out of bed, so I'm in bed too. I told Kurt to get out of his bed and help
me push it back to where it belongs, since it is sitting out in the middle
of the floor. That was a mistake and the exertion of pushing the bed, did
him in. Later in the morning we were told that lunch would be in the
lounge, because the dining room had been destroyed. When I went up to
lunch, I asked the ship's doctor to come to our cabin and give Kurt a shot
for his seasickness. The doctor did this, and in twenty minutes Kurt was
fine.
This is basically an uneventful day. We are in a holding pattern on the
leeward side of Isla Todos los Santos. The dining room lost a number of
windows and looks like a disaster area. Some of tables and chairs were
broken, and there is much water and broken glass. There is considerable
electronic damage, and we are on backup steering (manual). We do not have
control of the rudder. We have no radar, no gyrocompass, and most of our
communications are gone. The intercom is out, drowned by the first wave to
come through, which is why the canned music stopped. The Xerox machine is
also out, so they can't give us printed messages. A Mexican tug has
appeared on the scene and appears to be keeping us company. I guess this
is in case we can't get back to Ensenada on our own power. Tomorrow, we
will return to Ensenada and find out how long the repairs will take. We
have lost two days of the trip. If the repairs can be made quickly, most
likely we will continue, otherwise the trip may be cancelled. We will find
our tomorrow. I saw a film on sea otters, but Kurt missed it -- he was in
bed.
Dinner was in the lounge. Kurt actually ate some of it. After dinner they
showed "Casablanca," but we had seen it on our last Lindblad disaster --
when we were grounded on a rock in Alaska. Meanwhile, the drinks are still
free.
Tuesday, January 19
We assembled in the lounge for breakfast and had a
really nice buffet,
under the circumstances. We were told that we would be going back to
Ensenada and that the typhoon did tremendous damage in the Ensenada harbor.
They were clearing the harbor, and we would be sailing back at 9:30 a.m.
We also were informed that we would be staying the night at the San Nicolas
and we should pack an overnight bag. We all hurried to get our bags packed
quickly so we could be on deck to take pictures of the damage to the
harbor. We sailed to the entrance of the harbor and lowered an anchor and
waited.
The dealings with the Mexicans apparently were not as easy as hoped and
around 10:30 A.M. one of the power driven Zodiac rafts took Manuel, our
Mexican naturalist, to act as interpreter, and try to persuade the harbor
master to let us sail in. About noon, a pilot boat finally appeared and a
harbor pilot joined the captain. We weighed anchor and entered the harbor.
A jumble of seven tuna boats were tangled and beached on a part of the sea
wall. One was capsized and upside down. Huge rocks from the sea wall
cover the concrete pads of the piers and bulldozer are pushing mountains of
stones back toward the seawall. They docked the Polaris, and we were taken
to the San Nicolas, given lunch, and a room key. We have a very large
room, poolside, because this is the equivalent of our luxurious cabin
aboard ship. We keep getting updates of the progress on the ship and
projections of what may happen next.
We are meeting some very nice people. At dinner Sven Olaf Lindblad flew in
from New York to talk to all of us and tell us how glad they were that we
were safe. In fact as time goes on, we find more and more the extent to
which we were in danger. We walked around Ensenada in the afternoon. Lots
of Californians come down here, I am not sure why. After dinner at the San
Nicolas Kurt and I went over to the discotheque, but the band was pretty
bad, and after a short time, we gave up and went back to the room to listen
to TV. That was short-lived, and we went to sleep, Kurt still believing
that his bed was in motion.
Wednesday, January 20
After breakfast we went on a nature walk to the Ensenada harbor to look at
shore birds. There were avocets, skimmers, sandlings, California gulls,
Hermann's gulls, willets, sandpipers, scoters, terns, marbeled gotwits,
dowitchers and others. We took a number of pictures of the birds, but more
of the ships beached on the rocks.
In the afternoon after lunch, we got on buses and drove around Ensenada Bay
to a peninsula at the end of the bay overlooking Todos los Santos. We got
off the buses and joined the group for the "long" walk instead of the short
one. The climb to the top of the hill was about 500 feet vertical. On the
way we looked at blooming agave (century Plants), a variety of very large
"hen and chickens," golden torch cactus, teddy bear cholla, huge prickly
pears. There were many bird's nests in the cacti. We saw a number of
hummingbirds. From the top of the hill we could see the island we had
learned to know so well on the previous days, as we lay in its lee,
somewhat sheltered from the storm. We are told that the buses will take us
back to the ship and that the trip will continue. Finally, we are back to
the ship for an excellent dinner, and we are finally on our way. No one
chose not to continue the cruise.
Thursday, January 21
We saw a talk on elephant seals and the Islas San Benitos by Allan Morgan.
He is a professional photographer and had wonderful pictures. The weather
was clear and seemed a bit warmer. We are still wearing jeans,
sweatshirts, and jackets outdoors, however. At about 3:30 P.M. we anchored
off Islas San Benitos' western island, and rode ashore, twelve at a time,
in the Zodiacs, which are motor powered rafts. On the beach, as a
welcoming committee, were two huge male elephant seals with very large
proboscii. After recording their presence on film, the next thing we did
was pick up a couple of beautiful abalone shells and two turban shells. We
chose the long walk option and proceeded through a small fishing village,
which was deserted, but in one yard there were fish hung on a line to dry.
It was felt that the people left the island for the mainland due to the
storm.
The path went around a steep-sided hill, which was a volcanic cone. As we
looked down on the rocky beaches, there were several sea elephants lying in
the water. We climbed upward, avoiding the jumping cholla cactii, and the
numerous holes in the ground which were nests for some kind of sparrow.
As we came around a bend in the path, we were on a narrow ledge,
overlooking a beach with a dozen elephant seals, females with cubs and a
huge male. The males weigh around 5000 pounds. The next beach contained
even more seals, and a huge dominant male (the naturalists called the
"beachmaster") for our benefit, no doubt, copulated with a female, whose
throat was bloody, possibly from his amorous attentions. There was quite
a bit of activity and all of us were fascinated. Cubs were barking or
nursing. A few were dead, having been crushed under the weight of some
adult that had rolled over them. Non dominant males moved toward the harem
from the outer edges of the beach. We observed that some of the pups were
much bigger than other.
We proceeded on up a very steep hill and across a relatively flat area to
still more beaches and more elephant seals. Meanwhile the light was
fading, and I had on fairly dark sunglasses. In a short time, I could
differentiate very little through the dark glasses and less without them.
On the last beach, I could not tell which were the seals and which were the
rocks. Next time, I will take two pairs of glasses. It was pretty dark
and I removed the sunglasses and was relying on following Kurt to get back
to the Zodiac on the beach, since I couldn't see anything.
We were met as we entered the village by other members of the staff who
were concerned about us. We made an effort to avoid falling over an
elephant seal in the dark and boarded the Zodiac. When all were aboard, we
pushed off from the beach and headed toward the Polaris. Since the driver
couldn't see what was in the water, we drove through a huge kelp bed,
which kept fouling up the outboard motor, and it had to be taken out of the
water many times. For a short time we zigzagged about trying to avoid the
kelp and not succeeding. We finally reached the ship, the last boat off
the beach and washed up for cocktails, dinner, and a talk on the grey
whales, tomorrow's adventure.
Friday, January 22
It still is not warm! We got up a bit early, and Kurt was out on deck by 7
. He said he saw a whale breech three times about a mile away. By the
time I came up on deck, there were occasional spouts. The wind was blowing
pretty hard, and when I walked up to the bow deck where Kurt had staked out
a place on the rail, he suggested that I go down for windbreakers. I did,
and there we were up on the deck, looking for whales in sunny Mexico,
wearing jeans, t-shirts, sweatshirts, and Gor-Tex jackets, tightly zipped,
bracing ourselves against the wind.
After breakfast we were issued lifejackets to wear in the Zodiacs. By then
on top of the above-mentioned clothing we had added ponchos, over which
went the life jackets. With determination, and the help of two men, I
boarded the bucking Zodiac raft and grabbed for something to hang on to.
Raft full, we headed for the mouth of San Ignacio Lagoon looking for grey
whales. Several dolphins joined us for a while.
The Polaris was anchored a long distance from the mouth of the lagoon, and
it was a very long ride in through very choppy seas. We kept cameras and
binoculars well covered from the spray, but in a very short time,
everything not well covered by the ponchos was quite wet. The fellow
driving our raft, Lansing Teal, was really quite good and although we were
not the first raft to leave the ship, we were the first to the lagoon and
the first to spot whales. We followed a cow and her calf for quite a while
until the other rafts came in and started crowding "our" whales. We left
the group and took off searching for other whales and found another mother
and child pair, and a whole school of dolphins/porpoises, which swam and
leaped all around the raft. We were all wet and the seas were more choppy
as we headed back for the ship and lunch. The raft was bouncing around
like a cork on the waves, and the wind chilled us in our wet clothes, but
we had an absolutely marvelous morning chasing whales and were ready to go
out again in the rafts if that was the plan.
It had, however, grown too windy and so we stood on the bridge as the
Polaris followed whales. There were lots in the area, and once again we
sailed alongside a cow and calf for a quite a distance. In the afternoon
Bristol Foster gave a talk on animal migrations, which was very
interesting.
Saturday, January 23
This morning we were heading into Magdalena Bay and were surrounded by
whales. The spouts looked like canon puffs, and we were the "Light
Brigade." An almost silent Fourth of July of whale spouts. We followed
grey whales all morning. In the late morning we landed on a sandy beach
with a large assortment of dunes and took a nature walk through the dunes.
In addition to being impressed with the shapes and shadows of the
dunes overlapping each other, there was an incredible amount of plant life
-- blooming flowers of many colors and varieties, growing out of the sand.
There were plants resembling iceplant with magenta clusters of blossoms,
another had a spray of tiny white flowers and smelled like vanilla. There
were several varieties of peas, each with a different colored bloom. We
tromped about for more than hour, maybe two, and then headed back to the
ship for lunch.
After lunch we took bags to carry our seashells in and hopped aboard the
Zodiacs to return to the island for shell collecting. We were told it was
a seashell bonanza. To get to the shell beach, we had to cross over the
dunes, about a half mile walk. When we got to the beach on the far side,
we noted that it was quite long with a gentle slope into the sea. The sand
was quite fine and smooth to walk on. Our first thought was "why isn't
there a fancy resort here?" but that is a heretical thought for a
naturalist. We were thinking we should have brought our swimming suits,
but the breeze was cool and the water was colder. So we walked barefoot at
the edge of the surf.
On the beach were a myriad of broken clam shells (possibly other varieties,
but the fragments were too small to tell) and sand dollars. We started
looking for some perfectly round sand dollars, an unsuccessful quest, but
we did pick up a few almost round ones. The look like they have a
five-pointed flower or leaf cluster drawn on the top of each one, and the
pattern is repeated on the underside of most.
We walked about 45 minutes down the beach looking for the bonanza of
shells. We found very few of any interest, although our walk ranged from
waters edge to the base of the dunes. Allan Morgan, one of the
naturalists, however, found several very nice olives and augers. We had
noted on the nature walk that there were areas where there was a large
accumulation of shells among the dunes. I have decided that various storms
dislodged whole beds of certain mollusks and dropped the bunch of them on
the shore in the sand, because each of these "shell dumps" had one prominent
variety. Hiking back to the ship among the dunes in a very zigzag manner,
we found excellent examples of scallops (some with little barnacles on
them), moon shells, muricantus, venus clams, etc. I picked up two good
ones of each kind to add to the collection. Back on the ship we saw whales
and dolphins as we left the bay. We have seen many different birds, but
the shape of the frigate bird is the one that I think is the most classy,
even if they do eat little baby sea turtles.
Sunday, January 24
We were up at 5:30 A.M. to see the Southern Cross, a constellation of stars
that you can't see further north, but a cloud bank hid it from view. I did
learn to identify Scorpio and Leo. We entered Cabo San Lucas harbor at
dawn and anchored.
After breakfast we donned our wet suits, picked up a pair of fins from the
"Dive Master", and boarded the Zodiac to go snorkeling. We first got a
raft ride around the famous Friar's rocks at the entrance to the harbor.
There were lots of pelicans, some boobys, and we looked for peregrine
falcons, but didn't see any. Then we were taken to a good snorkeling area
off shore. The water temperature was 69 degrees, and we were happy we had
wet suits, because that is pretty cold swimming. The raft was anchored,
and we let ourselves into the water. I was not accustomed to using the
snorkeling mask, because it had been a long time since I had done it, and
upon hitting the cold water, got several mouthfuls of salt water. The
breathing pipe seemed to fill up and I couldn't clear it, and meanwhile,
with every breath, more salt water was getting into my mouth. Naturally, I
panicked! I swam furiously back to where the raft was anchored and grabbed
on to its ropes, huffing and panting, my heart racing. In a short time I
composed myself, put the mask back on, and holding on to the boat, tested
out my breathing. There still seemed to be a little water coming in, but
it was manageable.
I swam out to join the others, repeatedly trying to keep water out of the
tube, and finally came up the naturalist who was pointing out some of the
fish swimming around the rocks. At that point I removed the mouthpiece,
and when I put it back in my mouth, everything stayed clear, so I must have
been letting water in from around my mouth.
Snorkeling was glorious. I saw king angelfish, all varieties, ages and
sexes of damselfish, sergeant majors, butterflyfish, beau brummel, rainbow
wrasse, parrotfish, etc. I spent about two hours in the water, and when I
came back to the raft, I found that Kurt had already gone back to the ship
on one of the raft shuttles.
Back at the ship after lunch, we followed a pod of seven grey whales and
came very close to them. What was so thrilling was that we could see them
under the water as well. They surfaced first one, then another, blowing and
arching their huge bodies over the surface of the water. Their backs were
splotchy with barnacles and whale lice, and with the scars of where those
free-riders had previously been. The water was so clear that we could see
their direction even when they were below the surface -- huge dark shapes
swimming in light green water. Exciting and thrilling though this was, we
broke off following this group of grays, in hopes of finding another
species, but there were none.
The wind had picked up considerably, and we proceeded toward the Gorda
Banks in hopes of finding other kinds of whales. We passed said banks
without comment during Allan Morgan's talk on the Great Whales. The seas
were quite choppy during dinner and sometimes there would be a loud bang of
the engine screws slapping down against the water as the bow and stern
rose and fell alternately.
Monday, January 25
We were awakened at 6:30 A.M. for an early morning bird watching tour of
the mangrove swamps of San Jose Island. We were landed on a stony beach
with a plethora of shells and other interesting flotsam and jetsam. We saw
a desiccated trigger fish, its teeth tightly clenched, and I was tempted to
take it for my seashore shelf in the living room, but Kurt felt we might
not be able to take it back into the States, so I left it, with regret.
Needless to say, when we returned, no one asked to see anything. We walked
down the beach, a little too quickly to discover any real treasures on the
sand, but I picked up a stone with what looked like sponge growing on it,
and one of two varieties of clam shells with interesting patterns. We
reboarded the rafts and then putted through the water canals lined by the
mangrove bushes/trees. They are not as tall as trees, and although they
were expected to be full of birds, we saw only a few -- an osprey looking
for breakfast, two blue herons, a gorgeous hawk, many juvenile brown
pelicans, several kingfishers, a grebe, and a few other birds.
In the water were a number of small fish, brightly colored; a couple of
rays were seen; and a few larger, unidentified (by me) fish. The canals
among the mangroves twisted and turned and we followed a side channel for
quite a while. Oftentimes the water was quite shallow, and we picked our
way into the deeper part. The mangrove, quite dense on the edge of the
water, drop their tuberous roots in a thick tangle into the water. They do
not seem to continue down into the sand, but rather the roots stop a short
distance below the water's surface. They are able to use salt water, a
talent denied to most plants. They store the salt in the succulent leaves,
and when the concentration of the salt becomes too much, that part of the
plant dies and drops off.
We returned to the ship; the wind increasing. As we headed for Santa
Catalina Island, the swells grew bigger and the boat rocked with increasing
vigor. In the lounge, we heard a talk on evolution and saw a movie on
Darwin. At lunch it was like trying to eat a full meal on a roller
coaster, the waves occasionally crashing against the 3rd deck dining room
windows. Kurt gave up mid-meal and returned to the cabin. I finished
lunch and went to the gift shop. We decided to buy a small bronze
sculpture of a gray whale and calf.
As I sat at our cabin window, the ship, plowing through the swells, cut
huge waves that splashed, frothed and crashed as they rolled off the bow.
We sailed into the lee of Santa Catalina Island, and the water calmed as
predicted. We weighed anchor in front of a very nice, calm, c-shaped bay
with a beach covered with small, smooth round stones.
We were told that there was good snorkeling, so we put on our wetsuits in a
hurry and went down to get into a Zodiac. The water was colder than at
Cabo San Lucas, but clearer and calmer. I expected to stay in the water
about 20 minutes, but the wet suit took the edge off the cold, and I
snorkeled for an hour or more. There were lots of fish and I could swim
around the rocks, peering into nooks and crannies. I think I finally gave
up because my hands and feet got so cold.
When we came back aboard ship, we quickly changed to go back ashore and
take a short hike with expedition leader Tom O'Brien , because everyone
else had already left to go on walks. There were huge cordon and barrel
cactus growing on the steep hillsides along with teddy bear cholla and
other cactii. We saw hummingbirds in a pink flowering mistletoe plant as
well as several other birds. I picked up the dried black pods of a member
of the pea plant, which Tom said it is called the DooDoo plant because the
pods closely resembled dog turds. On this island the barrel cactus are
giants compared to those you might find elsewhere. There are some other
endemic plants and animals, mainly snakes and lizards, but we didn't see
any. On this island there is a rattleless rattlesnake.
Tuesday, January 26.
We anchored in Ensenada Harbor of Espiritu Santos Island. Kurt and several
others embarked right after breakfast on a 3-hour walk named by the
naturalists as "the death march." This is his report.
As we sailed into the southern bay of Islas Espiritu Santos, the view was
at the same time spectacular and familiar. The naturalist told us that
this was a volcanic island, and indeed it was. The geology was very
similar to that found in parts of northern New Mexico. One could see two
layers of moderately welded brownish-orangy tuff with gradations to
non-welded except at the top. These appeared to be a paler layer of a
rhyolite flow in the center. The cooling joints were quite dramatic.
They said the water was fairly cold, so I opted for the longest hike of the
trip. It was an 800-foot climb to the top of the volcanic hill. We
started from a sandy beach, following an arroyo. About 15 of us started,
led by Bristol, but after 20 minutes only about 7 of us were left. Lance
started late, but passed me after a half an hour. The arroyo turned into a
fairly steep, bouldery dry wash. When we attempted to walk on the side of
the wash, we encountered very spiny, dry bushes and cactii, which forced us
back to the boulders. Most of the group was ahead of me, and I thought the
couple behind me had dropped out of the hike, but they were even slower
than me. So I hiked mostly by myself, but I really enjoyed the stark
scenery, the geology, and the plants. Small bushes and cactii found
footholds in tiny cracks in the rocks. After 1 1/2 hours, we got to the
mesa-like top; the side of the mountain to the open sea was very
precipitous. The view, straight down to the waves was spectacular and
worth the strenuous hike. The return to the bay was as difficult as the
climb.
{Back to me} The island is volcanic in origin and the weathered rock has
distinctive and interesting shapes, overhangs, crevices, and grottos.
Sally Lightfoot crabs scurry sideways on the rocks just above water level.
Pelicans and gulls perch on rocks and turkey vultures soar overhead.
Cacti, fig trees, and other plants grow unbelievably from tiny cracks in
the cathedral-like, perpendicular stone walls.
Snorkeling, even in a wet suit was cold; the water seemed even colder than
the day before. The area was sheltered and there were lots of fish and
lots interesting little places to swim into. Hanging onto the rocks below
the surface were some skinny starfish, anemones, sea urchins, and some nice
coral, and there was an unusually large trumpetfish on the bottom on some
white sand. I had the underwater camera and tried to take some pictures of
what I saw. Unfortunately, neither I nor the fish stand still, so it is
questionable what I will get.
After lunch we sailed to another part of the Island called Bonanza Bay.
Kurt went walking and I once again went snorkeling. Here is Kurt's report
of the walk.
In the afternoon we anchored in a bay in the northern part of Espiritu
Santo, really a separate island, Isla Partida. Here, I opted for a nature
walk led by Allen Morgan. Three ladies and I went on this. First, we went
along the beach, which was fairly rich in various shells and dead fish. I
lagged again, collecting shells and taking pictures of numerous pelicans
close to shore. We went inland several hundred yards. The trees were
quite dry with only occasional flowers and leaves. We saw several
hummingbirds and spent a lot of time taking pictures. Also black throated
sparrows and flycatchers. We looked hard for the "black jackrabbit" which
is supposed to be unique to the island, but didn't see it. Allen was very
intense in his bird photography. To of the ladies and I left the group as
the sun went down, leaving Allen and Gisela to make their way to the beach
and the Zodiacs in the dark. The diving of pelicans was spectacular at
sundown.
The cold water has really thinned out the ranks of snorkelers. This time
there were only two of us. Mark, the divemaster, had said he didn't expect
it to be too good, but I figured it was my last chance for a long time.
When I finally got out of the water to rest, Manuel and Lansing asked me if
there were any fish. When I said there lots of fish and the snorkeling was
great, they immediately started the motor on a raft and putted out to the
end of the rocks -- a very short swim -- and got on their wetsuits. The
were collecting fish for the ship's aquaria. I rested for a while on the
beach, and then went out to where they were to see if they were seeing
anything special, because they were a little farther out than I had been.
Where they were was deeper and there were more puffers and some squirrel
fish, but not anything better than what I had seen. In the shallow water
and in among the rocks were some more brightly colored fish than further
out. There was a very interesting starfish, which I took a picture of. It
was yellow and black. The other man who had also gone out had noticed it
too, and said he did not find anything like it in the reef fish books.
Tonight is the farewell dinner and we have been invited to sit at the tour
leader's table.
Wednesday, January 27
Although whales were supposed to be seen on our trip north to the airport,
there were none. We saw a movie of Bristol Foster's round-the-world trip
with Robert Bateman, thirty years ago. The scenery as we sailed to Loretto
was arid, starkly rugged mountains, rising vertically from the Sea of
Cortez. The parallel rows of peaks make a pointed, jagged tooth pattern
against the sky. In the afternoon we saw slides of dangerous marine
creatures -- now they tell me!
We docked at Puerto Escondido, near Loretto, Mexico. There was some
activity on the dock of framing and pouring concrete, promising future
improvements to the harbor and the docking facilities. We waited some time
for the Mexican authorities to come on board and clear us through Mexican
immigration and customs. Kurt and I saw plastic garbage bags of cigarettes
and whiskey change hands. Finally the details were finished, the luggage
was loaded, some precariously high into two pickup trucks. At least one
bag fell off on the way to the airport. Instead of buses, we all boarded
into a fleet of taxis, five per car, and were driven to the airport. Once
again I was impressed with craggy mountains and the beautiful views of the
bays and beaches. Life didn't seem as impoverished in this region. At the
airport we saw two of the naturalists taping a suitcase that had fallen
from the truck. It was not one of ours, and was, in fact, the case of a
man who had cracked his ribs during the typhoon.
The snorkeling was great, though cold. We could have seen more species of
whales and I am disappointed that I was not able to snorkel with the sea
lions (as promised in an advertisement). It is a trip we shall never
forget because it is unlikely that we will ever again be on a ship at sea
in a typhoon, and although all the rest was enjoyable, the food was good,
the staff friendly, knowledgeable, and attentive, the high point for me
will always be that absolutely incredible night in the storm.
RGB VERLAG