Entries about mexico

Above The Water

“My lady’s seas are heaving -- her breath a fifty-knot gale force wind. I step down from the lido after spending ten minutes in her wild embrace. My hair is tousled, my clothes all askew. I’m lightly perspiring and my face is flush with excitement. I’m a bit woozy, yet grinning like a mad man. I feel like I’ve just finished having great sex. I am ALIVE, by god, and there isn’t a better feeling in the world.

Am I weird? Does anyone else have a job that makes them feel this way? Y’all need to get on the ocean…”

Taken from my journal April 16th, 2013.

Isla Tortuga lies north of Santa Rosalia on the eastern side of the Baja Peninsula. In two successive weeks, we had unpredicted gale force winds hammer into us just north of this island in the middle of the night. It’s almost as though the Sea is telling us, “No More! Go Away!” We wisely turned around and ran for cover. After spending the rest of the week trying to hide from the wind, it finally succeeded in chasing us back to La Paz, where we dropped off our guests and called it a season.

Below The Water

Yep. I’ve fallen in love again. I’ve been smitten with the under water world of the Sea of Cortez. Have you ever fallen in love? For me, it was stranger than normal, what with having to put on diving fins and a snorkel. I think the feeling of breathing underwater is a lot like being in love. At first, it feels a bit odd. Something like, “Holy shit! I’m in love with someone.” But after awhile, you get used to it and begin to explore further. All right. That’s enough terrible love metaphors for now. What is this, my Valentine day spectacular?

I tried to become a fish. This is my last week in Mexico, which means it is my last chance to enjoy the sun, hot beaches and relatively warm water. In fact, my rallying cry was, “Sleep Less! Explore More!”

This lack of sleep made it hard to make it through my shift, but I kept finding reserves of energy to get on the beach when my shift ended. I’m good like that.

It’s good to have a diving buddy when snorkeling. My friend Cassidy is one of the best. She’s part mermaid, which makes her extremely knowledgeable about all things aquatic. This is very useful when trying to determine the name or type of species of I’m looking at. I can ask her, “What kind of sea star is that?” And she’ll have the answer without fail. “That’s a Bradley Sea Star.” And so it is.

Either she’s a fountain of knowledge or she’s gifted liar. I wouldn’t know the difference.

My sessions have been great. I’ve explored little nooks of underwater rock around Islas Santa Catalina, Espirito Santo, Carmen, Partida, Danzante and Puerto Escondido. Each location has its own charm. Each session has its own flavor. At each spot, I came out gushing about some new undersea creature I haven’t seen before.

The more I snorkel, the more confident I have become in my explorations. I’ve gone out in snuffy seas with heavy chop and calm days with hardly a ripple. I love being underneath the swells. I love the pull of the current and waves. I love being in the breath of the ocean. I know I’ve said those words before, but they continue to ring true.

It’s especially fun to time a passage over some shallow tops of boulders. I would wait until the wave came through and then launch myself with it up an over a tall boulder using the strong current to propel myself to the other side. One must never fight against the ocean, but instead get with it and use it to your advantage.

The water temperature is warm. It’s about the same temperature as Lake Superior is at its warmest in early August. While other folks swim around in wet suits, this explorer needs only his adventure pants for protection.

My Undersea Collection

These photos cannot do the beautiful reefs of Baja justice. However, they will at least give you an idea of the various life forms found in these vibrant waters. Some of these photos were taken by Cassidy O’Bryant (the mermaid) and used with her permission.

California Sun Star

Brown Sea Urchin

Chocolate Chip Sea Star

“Sea Stuff”



I love the discarded stuff of the sea. I have a special attraction (obsession) with seashells. This collection is from a small one hundred yard section of beach that we called, “Jackpot Beach” because of all the treasures we found there.

A Crown of Thorns and Corral Structure

Puffer Fish

I think The Beatles put it best, “I’d like to be under the sea. In and octopuses garden, in the shade.” This would suit me just fine. Alas, my snorkeling days are over for a while. I’ve left Baja for the year. I’m heading northward to Alaska. While the snorkeling could be amazing there as well, I doubt I’ll be wearing only my shorts and fins to explore those undersea realms.

If you want my advice, I suggest you take a walk by a rocky piece of ocean. Even if you don’t go for a swim you can still check out the tide pools.

As for me, I’m off to Alaska. To get there I have ten days of open ocean positioning, followed by twelve days of exploration through British Columbia. I can’t wait.

I apologize. I started this week with grand intentions of writing a well thought out piece about travel writing. I forgot how grueling working the night shift could be. It turns out, staying up all night turns my mind to mush. My creative endeavors died without a whimper.

Whale Show


That being said, I have had a jaw-dropping week, even by my standards. I saw four different kinds of whales. This includes the giant sperm whales, orca and pilot whales. Get this, there were orca attacking a pod of sperm whales, trying to get at the newborn calf. The sperm whales were getting defensive forming a circle around the calf and batting at the orca with their flukes. There was a gigantic male taking charge of the pod. His enormous white head was scarred from a life full of battles. The orca had met their match.

I watched a large pod of short finned pilot whales for over three hours. I should have been sleeping, but it was too good of a show. I even saw them breach for the first time. As we cruised along side of them, they passed right by another pod of sperm whales. There was another giant male logging on the surface. As I stood on the fantail of our ship, I passed not more than thirty feet away from it. It was awesome!

Dolphins in Sapphires

One morning we came upon a pod of dolphins. I decided to head up to the lido deck to watch them from up above. Judging from experience, I figured that the glassy seas and morning light would make for good underwater dolphin photos. I was not disappointed. These are among my favorite dolphin pictures I have. I will never forget how beautiful it is to watch dolphins glide just beneath the surface of the water.

A Healthy Desert

I went for a walk among the boojum trees. Boojums are endemic to a very small region near Bahia de Los Angeles on the eastern side of the Baja Peninsula. They look like an upside down hairy white carrot. I love this desert. It’s very healthy, full of blooming cacti, birds, bees and vibrant desert fauna.

I sat in a narrow band of shade of a skinny cardon. It felt good to sit in the dirt. I could only hear the soft rustle of wind through the desert. I let my mind relax. Ahhh.

The only thought that came to mind was that I should continue to visit the desert in March and April. It feels really good to me be here. I don’t know if it’s the sun, warmth or desert itself, but I need to work this into my overall plan for healthy living.

Hiking Isla Danzante

There will come a day when I will be able to spend more than just three hours on Isla Danzante. There are just too many adventures waiting to happen. I want to walk around the island along the shore. I want to see the views from every high point. I want to anchor my sailboat in honeymoon cove. I will listen to the breeze and watch the stars.

It’s going to have to wait.

Ah well. I had a great morning hike on Isla Danzante. I walked around the north side of the island along the shore. I saw all kinds of sea stuff. I like calling the animals and plants of tide pools “sea stuff.” The ocean is so diverse and interesting, it’s hard for me to identify and understand what is going on in just one small section of shoreline.

Fortunately, my new adventure buddy knows a lot more than I do and she tells me all about it on our walks.

Walking Through Heaven

I took an early ride to the rocky shores of Isla Santa Catalina. I was exhausted from working all night, but I wanted to hike to a distant beach to try to find a certain kind of seashell I was convinced could be found there.




I never found the shells. Instead, I found a gorgeous desert landscape bathed in changing light. I don’t know if I was hypersensitive to the conditions due to my weariness, but I felt like I was walking through heaven.

I love this scene. I can't decide which one I like better. Let me know which one you prefer.

Thank you for putting up with this sad excuse for an entry. I promise I will get more sleep, which hopefully will lead to better stories.

Cheers!

I’m sitting on a table on our bridge deck (our highest deck). My legs dangle in the breeze. I lean back and look up to the rising moon. I have a cold beer in my left hand and my Ipod with select cuts in my right. I’m rocking out to a big moon, and a beautiful Mexican seascape. I’ve got it pretty damn good.

I’m thinking about what I want to write about this week, but I can’t come up with anything. It doesn’t matter. I take a sip of beer and smile. This week is good. I’m doing good. And sometimes, there just isn’t anything to say.

Bonanza Bay Slack-Line Session

It took me three tries to find the right set up for this line. It was hard to find the right combination of distance, boulders and height to make this line happen. It’s hard to wrap a line around a boulder and make it hold. A taut line on boulders tends to slip no matter how hard I pull the tension. Using a couple of different knots, I finally got the line to hold.

This was the highest line I’ve ever walked. I know it doesn’t look very high, but the landing was sketchy. Should I fall, a small bed of boulders would break my fall. It took me a couple of tries to get comfortable on the line, but I overcame my fears and relaxed. I told myself it’s no different than a low line, it was just higher. For some reason, this line of logic worked, and I walked it.

The best part of this session was soaking in the cool crystalline waters of the Sea of Cortez afterward.

Orange Whispers

I love dawn. There’s something proper to sipping a good cup of coffee and watching the sun rise over the waking world.

The Magic of Isla Magdalena

Isla Magdalena never fails to impress me with its diverse beauty. I’ve written extensively in the past about the finer features of Isla Magdalena. It never fails to provide me with a sense of peace, a sense of place, and a sense of time.

My buddy Paul and I walk across the wind swept dunes to the Pacific side. A fine layer of sand blows over the dunes as thin as smoke. We lose ourselves in conversation, the dunes and our destiny.

On the Pacific side, I drop my accessories and run off into the ocean. I run until the waves trip me and I fall forward into the water. I love this beach. I love this ocean. I love this place. I time the waves and jump with them hoping for that magical feeling of flying. It’s elusive, but I finally catch the perfect wave. I accelerate as the wave curls and breaks. It seems I‘m better at flying in water than I am in the air.

I leave fully satisfied and refreshed. To swim in the Pacific is good for the soul.

Sea Lion in Death

A dead sea lion lay on the sand. Paul and I walk around it, inspecting it. It smells like death. It’s interesting and puts life into perspective. Everything here is temporary, so what the hell is all the fuss about? I don’t know. Neither does Paul.

Isla Magdalena is home to the dead. The bones of countless animals, and perhaps men, litter the island. I can’t think of a more beautiful place to lie still.

Undocumented Moments

This week I experienced several moments I can only tell you about. I’ve kept camera mostly tucked away this week. I didn’t want any distractions. I kept my senses wide open, receptive to it all. I was not disappointed.

I saw three blue whales this week. One of which brought its fluke into the sky as it dove away into the wild blue. I was inches away from several gray whales this week. When they breathed, I was blasted in the face with their breath. Some whales expel their breath at over 100 miles and hour. I breathed the same air a whale expelled. That has to be some kind of good karma, right? I watched streaking dolphins glide through black water. They are ghostly, lit by bioluminescence.

My favorite part of the week was realizing I love my job. I’m a mariner, and I work on the sea. Sometimes the sea gets lumpy and hard to work on. Every move I made was difficult. I was at the mercy of the water and the wind.

I worked with my mates and we got the job done, despite the challenging conditions. We ate a late dinner in the relative peace of the crew lounge enjoying the camaraderie of a good days work done well.

To work here, you need a sense of timing, physical coordination, and knowledge of the sea. It’s an ancient craft, and I’m happy to say it is mine.

I have been noticing that at about seven a.m. my left eye starts to twitch. This is a certain sign of fatigue for me, and I have been running from deep fatigue for the last week. It is my turn to work nights, a twelve-hour marathon of delirium, dancing, clouded weariness and laughs. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m completely functioning and doing my job, but there are times when I find myself in depths of fog.

However, my fatigue has its advantages. For one thing, I notice, appreciate and contemplate everything around me more poignantly. Many small morning moments become mesmerizing. For example, the reflection of the bow in the water this morning was a kaleidoscope of warping, twisting, oily reflections, and it is beautiful! I stare at it for uncounted minutes as I wait to call the weighing of the anchor.

I know my visit to this magical place is drawing to its end. I have a couple of weeks left on the Baja Peninsula. Inspired by this masterpiece of desert islands and ocean glory, I’ve forsaken sleep in search of scenic grandeur. My efforts have been well rewarded.

Dolphins in a Sea of Sapphire

If a master jeweler were to craftily inset a perfect replica of tiny dolphins just underneath an irregular surface of a pure-blue polished sapphire, they would sell thousands of them. I would purchase several of these rings if they existed as they are in my mind.

For now, I will have to settle for my memories and pictures of the real thing.

Earlier in the week, I was able to see dolphins bow ride on one of our Zodiacs. I was on the bow lying flat on my stomach on the front pontoon. The dolphins were three feet away from me, swimming effortlessly, and speeding much faster than our zodiac could go. Up close, I could see just how much power the dolphin’s tail fin has stored in it. A dolphin is a perfect example of a stream lined, efficient mammal, playing in its element. It was beautiful in every way. I made a mental note to check off another Baja experience on my list.

Just after eight o’clock in the morning, I was thumping on my banjo in the crew lounge, enjoying a beer, and hoping for a whale show. I was given dolphins instead, and I ended my musical libation session and grabbed my camera. I headed up to the lido deck so I could watch the massive pod of common dolphins from an aerial perspective.

It was one of the best dolphin shows I have seen, and the inspiration for my dolphin set sapphire. They were magnificent. The dolphins swam gracefully just below the surface of the blue water, and the distorted image of their bodies is locked into my memory.

With a swing of the tail, the dolphin would take to the air, catching a breath, and showing off its power and grace.

Portraits of Frigate Birds and Pelican Dives

While watching the dolphins from our highest deck, I was standing not more than 30 feet below a flock of magnificent frigate birds that were drafting just above the ship. It was very easy to compose several satisfying photos of these splendid birds.


I also was finally able to photograph pelicans in a full diving fishing strike. Pelicans are amazing, and among my favorite birds. They would hover thirty feet above the surface, spot a fishy delicacy under the water and go for the strike. In a quick moment, the pelicans would flip upside down, stretch their bodies out into a very heavy narrow arrow and dive straight into the water at their prey. Their heavy beaks would break the surface punching deep with the bulk of their body and the fish had no chance. It was awesome.

The Feel of a Good Desert

My hikes deep into the desert have been satisfying. I love the energy of the desert. I cannot explain what exactly what I am feeling, but there is something, clean and pure to a landscape that hasn’t been trampled by the progress of man. I love trekking through neighborhoods of the giant boulders, rocks, shrubs and cacti. The landscape is intoxicating. I tend to notice the harmonies of the landscape, and find myself feeling more than looking for the perfect spot to enjoy all that’s around me. There is a feel to such a spot that feels right.

When I find the right place, I’ll sit down and look around all about me. I look deeply at the composition of the scene, I’m reassured that my positioning is correct. For whatever reason, I’m called to alluring landscapes, and if you were to look at where I’m sitting as if you were setting up a landscape photograph, you would probably place the human subject where I’m sitting.

I feel like this is hard to explain on paper. If you have any questions, come hiking with me some time, and I’ll show you what I mean.

Flying Fish and a Swarm of Mobula Rays

I finally saw flying fish. Flying fish, as you might imagine, are fish that take to the air and fly when threatened. It’s their special defensive technique, and a fun one at that. While cruising northwest on the west coast of the peninsula, we came into a couple of schools of them deep in the night. They were startled by our boat, and flew away right in front of us. These were just little guys, and couldn’t fly very far, but some flying fish can stay airborne for a long time.

While working one night on the lido deck, the chief mate and I looked over the side of the boat and saw a fast moving ball of large fish. At first, we couldn’t see what they were, but then they came to the surface in the light of our work lamps, and we saw that they were mobula rays! They looked like a bait ball, a swirling sphere of fish, except that they were large, perhaps two feet by two feet in an irregular diamond shape. It was awesome! We laughed and watched them bubble up to the surface, then dive deep and were joined by another ball of them. Then the giant mass of mobula rays surfaced and we estimated that there must have been fifty to one hundred rays streaking right beneath us. It remained AWESOME!

This was a unique moment, and one of the most interesting things I have seen on the ship. They disappeared as quickly as they came. It made me wonder about what else I wasn’t seeing in the night.

The Contemplating Sailor

This trip has been wonderful. I’ve marked off a few more things on my list of what I’ve always wanted to see. Beyond that, it has offered a lot of closure to many of aspects of my dreams and realities that I manifest. I know that last sentence is very deep, but it’s true.

Long ago, before I ever set foot on this ship, I had ideas and fantasies of what I pictured boat life would be like. Then when I started sailing the west coast and the reality of what I got myself into was established, I laughed at my naivety. Life rolled on. What I didn’t expect, was that some of those original daydreams are starting to come true.

It’s somewhat eerie. When I found myself living out my dreams, it caught me off guard for just a moment. Then I embraced it, and realized dreams can come true. They might not happen on your schedule, or when you pictured them happening, but they can happen. I’m not saying ALL of your dreams will come true, and extravagant dreams of defying physics probably aren’t going to happen. However, if you have modest dreams like I have, and if you have the courage to put them out there, it can happen.

I would encourage you to be patient, and don’t get too involved waiting for them. Like Mitch Hedberg said, “I’m tired of chasing my dreams, I’m just going to find out where they are going and hook up with them later.”

This has turned out to be good advice.

Cheers!

I gave up my long johns for my adventure pants, and I’m back on the southern Baja Peninsula. My reasoning is that March is one damn fine month to be in Mexico, and a poor month to be anywhere in the northern United States. With that bit of logic, I agreed to work for four weeks on the good ship Sea Bird, my floating home of the last year and a half.

I took a red eye flight down to get here. When I agreed to fly the red eye, I didn’t know that it was going to stop at nearly every airport along the way. I flew from Spokane to Seattle. Then from Seattle to Sacramento to Guadalajara to Culiacan and finally to La Paz. I didn’t get any sleep at all on the plane, and by the time I landed in the bright sunshine of mid-morning in La Paz, I was a zombie. True, I was a smiling zombie, but a zombie all the same.

I took a cab from the airport down to the malecon along the waterfront of downtown La Paz and stumbled into the Crown Seven Hotel. The good people at the Crown 7 perked up when they heard I had arrived, as our agent in La Paz had told them of my “nightmarish flight.” They welcomed me, grabbed my bags, led me up to my room, practically tucked me into bed, and wished me a comfortable rest. It was sweet relief to plummet into a coma at 11 am in the morning with the soft breeze of the air conditioner lulling me away.

The advantage of taking this flight was that I had two days to spend in La Paz before traveling across the peninsula to San Carlos where I would join the ship.

La Paz

I love La Paz. I should say I love the Malecon located in La Paz, as it is the only part of the city where I have spent my time. However, it is very charming. I woke up after a four-hour nap. I was still half out of it at first, but woke up enough to realize I was hungry. La Paz has several good restaurants, and I had plans on visiting two of my favorites while I was here. I decided on pizza. I stepped out into the cooling evening air, and walked two around the block to the restaurant. It was still too early for most diners, and I had the place to myself. I ordered a green pepper and onion pizza, and it was delicious.

The sky darkened with the setting of the sun, and I walked back to the hotel. I sat out on the fifth floor patio and looked over the Malecon. There were people walking along the boardwalk. The decorated streetlights winked on, and then grew brighter. The small waves lapped at the shore. Two dozen sailboats bobbed in the harbor, their dinghies tethered to the stern. The sunset left the western sky a dull orange smudge, definitely not the best sunset (that came later in the week), but still added to the scene. It was peaceful. It was another tranquil evening in La Paz.

I climbed back in bed, and slept a very satisfying sleep.

The next day was very enjoyable. There was no hurry to my day, as the bus to San Carlos didn’t leave until 5 pm. I had breakfast on the seashore, followed by a leisurely stroll. I had lunch at Rancho Viejo, and ate the best fish tacos I have ever eaten in my life. I went back to the hotel and met up with the guy who I was replacing. We had coffee and talked of the ship. The ship is a constant topic of conversation, among boat folks, and there was a lot to catch up on.

The ride across the peninsula was fun. I was a bundle of nerves, being both a little bit nervous, and quite excited about seeing my friends and the boat once again. I sat far back in the bus as we whizzed through the inky desert night. It was kind of like being on a plane with a lot of turbulence, but for some reason since I knew I was connected to the ground, I wasn’t concerned about it.

Finally, we arrived in San Carlos and I saw the bright lights of the Sea Bird. My nervousness and excitement grew, and a smile began to grow on my face. I stepped off the bus and into the melee of luggage, crew, guests and hubbub. I was back onboard. I spent the evening giving hugs, catching up, handing out chocolate, and staying up late. It felt really good.

As with all choices one makes in life, the outcome is never clear or certain. I figured to make the best of my time here in Mexico.

Sublime Times in Mexico
I had the morning off. I like to ease back into work, and I spent my time on the west side of Isla Magdalena at a place called Sand Dollar Beach. I sat for a long time, just watching the rollers curl and break on the sand. There were dolphins in the distance, and the warm sun baked into me. I stalked a small crab that was skittering along the shore. I took its portrait. At last, I could not resist it anymore, and I shuffled my way into the ocean. It was time to catch a few rides on the waves. The water was a perfect temperature, reminding me of Lake Superior in July. It was not too hot or cold. It was refreshing, it was rejuvenating, and it was good for my soul.

On Kissing Gray Whales

I’ve talked of my first experiences of kissing a whale in "To Kiss A Whale" (March 2011 I am a fortunate man. I’ve done it again.

As part of our itinerary down here in Mexico, we spend a couple of days watching the gray whales of Magdalena Bay. Our captain, complete with his heart of gold, called the whale watching guides in Lopez Mateo to get a crew boat to go out and watch the whales. I was on the second tour, and several of my friends were gushing about their experiences on the first. TTwo of my friends kissed whales. I was beaming too. It’s funny, everyone is extremely happy when other people have good whale experiences. It is such a great moment.

There were seven of us in our group as we cruised out to the Boca Del Soledad. The Boca is a small opening to the sea from Magdalena Bay. The gray whales frequently use this as their entrance to and from the bay. The crew cracked jokes and told stories, vented and relaxed as we looked out for spouts from the whales. We followed a mom and her calf around, but they didn’t want to play. It was great to be out among the whales again.

Then it happened. We were following a mom and calf pair when the calf started to come close to the panga. We all leaned over the side, almost, but not quite tipping the boat. We splashed at it, called for it, said hello, cooed, and welcomed the whale to come closer.

It came right up to the boat, and I said hello and touched the calf on the back of the head. I said aloud, “You feel just like an eggplant.“ No sooner than I had finished uttering those words, then the whale surfaced and blew its breath directly and forcefully into my face. I was no more than 15 inches away from the blowholes. It was kind of like being three inches away from a human sneeze. I begged the whale its pardon, and apologized. I wonder if a whale knows what an eggplant is. I can imagine it saying, “Why are you saying I feel like this thing I never heard of before?”

After that, the whales put on a show of affection. The mom and calf played around us, and the feeling of good will and kinship grew. I kissed both whales twice. That means that I have kissed three different whales in my life. The thought of that is preposterous to me. I whiffed on two other kisses though, and I ended up dunking my face into the water as the whale retreated.

My favorite moment was seeing the mom’s eye up close, not more than six inches below the water. It was beautiful. To me, the eye was relaxed, full of compassion, maternal serenity and knowing. It was like being noticed by a grand beautiful queen, even for just a moment. It was beautiful, and I hope I never forget that moment.

Punta Colorado
I like to pick a high point and hike there. This one was very satisfying.

Sunset

The sunsets of the Sea of Cortez are consistently the best I’ve ever seen. I’m not sure there is much more I can say about them. They are simply amazing.

What a great first week. I can’t believe my good fortune. I wonder what the next three weeks will hold?