Los Islotes, Baja California Sur
After anchoring the National Geographic Sea Bird near the small rocky islet of Los Islotes, the ship was buzzing with anticipation. Dozens of California sea lions were basking in the early morning sun nearby, some quietly dozing, their fur dry and tan, others much more energetic, their coats wet and smooth. The mature males seemed to object to any movements by their smaller, more playful counterparts, 850 lb. curmudgeons amongst the carefree youngsters. How would they react to our ungainly neon fins, herky-jerky motions and odd breathing devices?
We donned our wetsuits, grabbed our fins and masks and made way to the moored Zodiac. Vertical cliffs housed and were decorated by blue-footed boobies and brown pelicans. What do we look like from their aerial perspective? Amongst the boulders were familiar, peering eyes. Faces akin to Labrador retrievers turned towards us, some of them inquisitive, some could care less. Regardless, it was time for splashdown.
Being in the water with any animal much larger than you is a grand experience; if that animal is a predator it can be powerful. We cannot forget for one second that these animals are skilled hunters. Seeing a California sea lion twist and turn with effortless bursts of speed and agility highlights their standing near the top of the food chain. Their maneuverability is so great that it borders on unfathomable. The young sea lions are fantastic, but when we start seeing mature males swim by, it becomes powerful. Just as agile but less likely to show it, they can feed on large squid and small sharks. Catching a sideways look from a bull sea lion is an intimidating thing, intentional or not.
Today, though, it's all about fun. Our orientation afforded us many opportunities to watch huge males come and go, while the smaller animals zigged and zagged all around us. It was good to see the young sea lions pester incoming males, tugging on their hind flippers and blowing bubbles in their face. At least we knew they weren't picking on just us. Maybe that sideways look isn't meant to be an intimidating one. Maybe he's thinking: “Good luck, these kids can be a handful.”
After anchoring the National Geographic Sea Bird near the small rocky islet of Los Islotes, the ship was buzzing with anticipation. Dozens of California sea lions were basking in the early morning sun nearby, some quietly dozing, their fur dry and tan, others much more energetic, their coats wet and smooth. The mature males seemed to object to any movements by their smaller, more playful counterparts, 850 lb. curmudgeons amongst the carefree youngsters. How would they react to our ungainly neon fins, herky-jerky motions and odd breathing devices?
We donned our wetsuits, grabbed our fins and masks and made way to the moored Zodiac. Vertical cliffs housed and were decorated by blue-footed boobies and brown pelicans. What do we look like from their aerial perspective? Amongst the boulders were familiar, peering eyes. Faces akin to Labrador retrievers turned towards us, some of them inquisitive, some could care less. Regardless, it was time for splashdown.
Being in the water with any animal much larger than you is a grand experience; if that animal is a predator it can be powerful. We cannot forget for one second that these animals are skilled hunters. Seeing a California sea lion twist and turn with effortless bursts of speed and agility highlights their standing near the top of the food chain. Their maneuverability is so great that it borders on unfathomable. The young sea lions are fantastic, but when we start seeing mature males swim by, it becomes powerful. Just as agile but less likely to show it, they can feed on large squid and small sharks. Catching a sideways look from a bull sea lion is an intimidating thing, intentional or not.
Today, though, it's all about fun. Our orientation afforded us many opportunities to watch huge males come and go, while the smaller animals zigged and zagged all around us. It was good to see the young sea lions pester incoming males, tugging on their hind flippers and blowing bubbles in their face. At least we knew they weren't picking on just us. Maybe that sideways look isn't meant to be an intimidating one. Maybe he's thinking: “Good luck, these kids can be a handful.”
