In March 1986 I wrote this log after a fantastic whale watching experience in San Ignacio Lagoon in Baja California. Our vessel was the Pacific Queen, a dog of a fishing boat out of San Diego. There was not a single chair on deck, and the hold where we all slept was not good for anyone subject to claustrophobia. But when we got to the lagoon our whale encounters were a mysterious, magical, once-in-a-lifetime experience. And en route we saw Halley’s Comet so vividly it would have been worth the trip in itself. I wrote this on the way back to San Diego.
We are en route north again, having left San Ignacio Lagoon just before sunset, going out on a high tide with one of the skiffs leading the way through the channel. There are wide and ever-changing sandbars on both sides of the very broad mouth, as well as a swift current from the outgoing tide. We watched hopefully for a green flash at sundown, but there was a narrow band of fog just above the horizon, and we are told by the crew that the sky must be totally clear for it to occur. The first two nights we were up at 4 AM to see Halley’s Comet and it was just wonderful, far more impressive than I expected from reading about it. A huge, soft fuzzball in the southern sky, with a halo and tail streaming upward. It was not visible until about 45 minutes after the moon set, and we watched it grow clearer and then dim out as dawn arrived. (In those days before digital cameras and iPhones, we simply watched – no photographs.)
For three days we have been in the lagoon playing with Gray Whales. It is an experience no one can imagine until it happens. Only calves and their mothers are still here, the males and single females have already left to go north. We would set off in a zodiac, usually 6 passengers and a boatman, and race towards a spout – and there are hundreds of them here. When we got close the boatman would slow down and cut the motor to a hum, and wait to see if the pair (cow and calf) were “friendlies”. If so, they would head towards us, surface alongside, dive and come up under and gently bump the skiff, surface and blow getting everyone misted, sink and blow a huge bubble, come alongside again and rise to be petted and rubbed. Sometimes a calf would want to play and we could see its mother get between it and us and nudge it away. Often the whales would leave after 15-20 minutes of playing, but sometimes they would outstay us – and we would leave regretfully because we had to do an exchange with a group on shore or be back at the boat for some valid reason (sometimes we were just plain late, being unable to break away). None of the boatmen ever tired of this incredible game with these awesome playmates. This afternoon there were 12 whales around our two skiffs, all gliding gently and gracefully around and never causing us the slightest discomfort. One cow was huge, and when she went down under our skiff she seemed to go on forever, sometimes rolling on her back down there. The skill with which they all evade the skiffs is spectacular, they are so huge and we so frail. The first time one came up underneath and bumped a skiff must have been an event the participants will never forget. One flip of a fluke and the boat would be over and its occupants treading water. But never do you even think of such a possibility.
All of this began in 1976 when an adult female approached a skiff and nudged it. The boatman was astonished and a little apprehensive and headed back to the big boat. The whale followed and then stayed around all day. From then on, more and more whales have played with the skiff people. But it is the whales’ game. If they don’t want to play they just move off when you arrive. There are now about 175 whales that are “friendlies”, and this behavior is unique to San Ignacio Lagoon and Magdalena Bay. Whale skin feels like cold sponge rubber. The adults are covered with clusters of barnacles, especially their heads, and often the patterns of white blotches make them individually identifiable. The calves are dark brown and the very young ones don’t have barnacles. These are the most wonderful animals, and this the most unique animal behavior I’ve experienced, or know of. Imagine such contact being initiated by a huge wild creature. All the more astonishing because the Grays fought the whalers, overturned skiffs and generally resisted being slaughtered, unlike other whale species. But now, after 60 years of protection, there is probably no individual alive that has known whaling, so what we are now seeing may be the natural response of the Gray Whale to humans. A wonderful and totally humbling experience. This huge creature seems aware of our fragility and takes every caution to keep from harming us. A big Mom came toward us, dove under the skiff and came up on the other side without causing us to rock, or even ripple. Humans treated whales as products to be harvested – and what a hideous creature man can be. Cruelty and death were our sole reactions.
This afternoon there were two porpoises hanging around on the periphery as we played with the 12 whales. It would riot be surprising if they joined in one day soon. They are so human-oriented and so game-playing, why not?
We stopped at several islands on the way home and San Martin was the biggest and best. Took a wonderful walk about 2-3 miles up the canyon and then back. The weather could not have been lovelier, one of the few shirtsleeve days on the trip. But in the evening I had a ‘back episode’ that made me realize that something serious might be going on in my spine. The pain was severe, it laid me out, I couldn’t find a position that would ease it. Took two Advil after dinner and crawled into my bunk – what misery getting down the stairs and into that cramped space. It eased up sometime during the night and by morning I was OK, but shaken. A fellow-passenger, an MD, learned of my episode and cornered me to ask in detail about the symptoms. She figured it as a pinched nerve and gave me Naprosyn, an anti-inflammatory drug, and Zantoc to go with it to counter the effects on the gastric mucosa. I was OK the rest of the trip, but aware that I needed to get some medical attention. Later at home I gave up both running and backpacking in concern for my back.
I retain glorious memories from this trip but a huge negative was the discomfort of that darn ship. It was not meant for passengers, unlike the Isabela in the Galapagos. The galley seated 15 so we ate in shifts, and the cooking (pretty basic) was done right there. No lounge, and thus nowhere to retreat for an after dinner relax. The bunks were all below deck and without portholes, very hot and stuffy as well as cramped. I found the days enthralling, but the evenings and nights were trials to be endured. I would not recommend the boat to anyone who needs or wants any perks, nor to someone with a back problem or who is over 5′ (they could never sleep in a bunk). I kept wishing I had brought my sleeping bag and mat, with a tarp to keep it dry; I would have loved sleeping on deck.
Here’s to Gray Whales.