Ensenada Grande, Isla Partida
 
The Gulf of California is a kinetic place; its wildlife, wind, waves, and water are in perpetual motion. Last night we tasted the wind that ultimately brings life to the Gulf. It stirs the waters and roils them into a rich biological soup, and it stirred some of us from sleep. But by dawn, the hard-working crewmen and crewwomen of the National Geographic Sea Bird anchored us in Ensenada Grande off Isla Partida, northeast of La Paz, and all was still. I cracked the shade and aquamarine light flooded the room. The view was vintage Gulf of California: red andesite lava rocks juxtaposed with the turquoise sea; cactus nearly spilling off the cliffs into the water; a few birds making the morning rounds.
 
With a warm cup of coffee and a late breakfast, we set off for the morning’s adventure: hiking and exploring the interior of this island. We ascended a canyon that cut straight into the island’s geology and biology. La Partida was obviously once a geophysically kinetic place, as multiple pyroclastic ash flows of different chemical composition were layered into the canyon walls. Along the contacts between flows, parts of the land surface crumble away, and the flora of the desert pulls moisture from the ground. Native figs (Ficus palmeri), palo blanco (Lysiloma candida), various vines, a diversity of cacti, including a pencil cactus (Peniocereus striata) with lush red fruits, and other succulents were highlights of the floral community. Costa’s hummingbirds (Calypte costae) dined on the Eucnide cordada flowers growing on the sandy areas. The endemic black jackrabbit (Lepus insularis)and antelope ground squirrel (ammospermophilus insularis)were spotted by keen observers. When we reached the top of the canyon, we were greeted with a view of the open Gulf (east) and the Baja California peninsula (west) from the top of a 450-foot cliff.
 
In the afternoon, we ventured out in Zodiacs to explore the shores of the island. A few folks took a closer look underwater in snorkel gear, but most are waiting to get wet with the sea lions at Los Islotes. Along the shoreline, birds nested in tiny caverns carved from the rock by waves, and brave creatures, such as Sally Lightfoot crabs, clung to the rocks of the intertidal zone. Great blue herons, osprey, brown pelicans, and a belted kingfisher were all searching for a meal in the late afternoon light. Even a sea turtle was seen exploring the bay. As the sun set over Baja California, the rocks gradually changed color from pink to red to wine, until they were swallowed by darkness. But the Gulf doesn’t slow down—life keeps moving.