San Ignacio Lagoon, Baja California Sur
What a day! It began with a few bumps as Sea Bird sought the serenity of dockside at the old mining town of Santa Rosalia. A north wind, gusting occasionally to 50 knots, roiled the clear water of the Gulf of California. The day continued with a washboard ride across the dry desert as we bounced in vans to and from San Ignacio Lagoon. And it concluded with a little rocking and rolling, this time as we left the now abandoned copper smelter near our dock and cruised out into the same north wind, finally settling into a quiet roll as we rode it south. In between these brief periods of discomfort, however, was the most amazing experience that anyone could imagine; the emotional thrill of very close encounters with gray whales.
As recently as 70 years ago, the gray whale was still being hunted. A dastardly harvest that began in the mid 1800s had reduced its numbers so severely that, in 1946, international protection was granted. The result? A true success story. Perhaps as many as 25,000 gray whales now feed on the rich benthic organisms that live beneath the Bering, Chukchi and western Beaufort seas. Their annual fall migration to the warm lagoons of Baja California to give birth or to breed, and their spring return northward, have created a very significant tourist industry. We were part of it, and were delighted that this unique mammal is now worth a lot more alive than it was dead.
At times as many as four massive females, each with her robust, fast-growing calf, crowded around some of our small pangas. The whales were there on their own accord. Anything that we did to attract them probably had no real effect. Their latent fear of man and boats continues to diminish. “Friendly” encounters are occurring with increasing frequency.
Everyone on board had a favourite story about the day, but one that was most compelling occurred as a friendly baby returned to sidle-up once again to one of our boats. Suddenly and without warning - and for reasons known only to herself - the mother dove quickly and then burst above the surface in a full “breach.” She crashed down about 20 feet from the boat, splashing the occupants. What a shock! Just as suddenly, she repeated this leap, this time landing even closer to us. It was a breathtaking encounter. As she leaped, her calf was content to be at our side, nuzzling the boat. Mother soon settled back into her normal, placid behaviour. We shook our heads and wiped seawater from our eyes and cameras.
All of us will continue to smile about this day. The near-annihilation of this magnificent animal has ended…hopefully forever. A trust in humankind is returning.
What a day! It began with a few bumps as Sea Bird sought the serenity of dockside at the old mining town of Santa Rosalia. A north wind, gusting occasionally to 50 knots, roiled the clear water of the Gulf of California. The day continued with a washboard ride across the dry desert as we bounced in vans to and from San Ignacio Lagoon. And it concluded with a little rocking and rolling, this time as we left the now abandoned copper smelter near our dock and cruised out into the same north wind, finally settling into a quiet roll as we rode it south. In between these brief periods of discomfort, however, was the most amazing experience that anyone could imagine; the emotional thrill of very close encounters with gray whales.
As recently as 70 years ago, the gray whale was still being hunted. A dastardly harvest that began in the mid 1800s had reduced its numbers so severely that, in 1946, international protection was granted. The result? A true success story. Perhaps as many as 25,000 gray whales now feed on the rich benthic organisms that live beneath the Bering, Chukchi and western Beaufort seas. Their annual fall migration to the warm lagoons of Baja California to give birth or to breed, and their spring return northward, have created a very significant tourist industry. We were part of it, and were delighted that this unique mammal is now worth a lot more alive than it was dead.
At times as many as four massive females, each with her robust, fast-growing calf, crowded around some of our small pangas. The whales were there on their own accord. Anything that we did to attract them probably had no real effect. Their latent fear of man and boats continues to diminish. “Friendly” encounters are occurring with increasing frequency.
Everyone on board had a favourite story about the day, but one that was most compelling occurred as a friendly baby returned to sidle-up once again to one of our boats. Suddenly and without warning - and for reasons known only to herself - the mother dove quickly and then burst above the surface in a full “breach.” She crashed down about 20 feet from the boat, splashing the occupants. What a shock! Just as suddenly, she repeated this leap, this time landing even closer to us. It was a breathtaking encounter. As she leaped, her calf was content to be at our side, nuzzling the boat. Mother soon settled back into her normal, placid behaviour. We shook our heads and wiped seawater from our eyes and cameras.
All of us will continue to smile about this day. The near-annihilation of this magnificent animal has ended…hopefully forever. A trust in humankind is returning.
