Magdalena Bay Field Trip

February 15-18

My forefathers hunted whales for their blubber and later made good money selling baleen for those corsets and stays that kept our foremothers’ wasp waists slender. In fact, the original Gratitude was a whaler owned by my great great grandfather. As far as I know, the gray whales were not their quarry, though. The grays have schooled to mate in Magdalena Bay for all known time. After the long coastal swim down from the Bering Sea they famously play, mate and give birth to calves in lagoons along the outer Baja coast. Ever since my parents visited San Ignacio lagoon and took movies of mating (gulp) whales, I’ve had an itch to do my own whale watching tour.

Last week in a sudden burst of energy we surveyed local tour companies and jumped on the opportunity to join a 4 day whale watching trip led by Mar y Aventuras. Generally we’ve been pretty much coast locked, that is to say traveling close to the shorelines, but this trip started with a long drive across the peninsula to the fishing town of Puerto San Carlos where we refueled on the way down Baja. The adventure started with a walk to LunaSol inn, three blocks from our La Paz marina and home to M y A offices. Over breakfast our guide Miguel introduced everyone told us what to expect. We found that 4 out of 6 of us were from Washington, the other two being Coupeville residents, Jan and Anne. Judy and her daughter Sue from the SF Bay area rounded out the select group.

Traveling in the van we watched the desert roll by, mostly cactus lands with cattle ranching. Miguel told us matter of factly that during drought ranchers burn the spines off the cactus to give the cattle forage with some water content. At a potty stop about half way we pulled up to a small stone building, a restaurant featuring machaca burritos.  In spite of the early hour, beef cooking smelled great, a delicious elevenses. We had never heard of this salty dried meat concoction, but soon located some future machaca hanging laundry style on a line outside. 

 

At Pt San Carlos we were dropped off on a beach (remember there’s a fee for docking?) and waded out to the waiting panga, a large, stable skiff that would be our whale watching vessel as it turned out. 

Charlie helps moor the panga.

Camp

Approaching the shore I wished my camera was ready. The sandy beach of Man of War Cove stretched on forever with the only human habitation our temporary little white tents in neat rows and two brown army tents, one for cooking, one for dining. I never did get a good photo, but the camp looked almost the same from the back. (3photos) We anchored off here back in 2005 with Iain and Ruth in Bizim. Never thought I’d be back, especially living in a tent on sand for three nights!  Savory hot meals three times a day, happy hour every evening and lots of reading/siesta time in a lovely quiet place made up for having to pee on the open shore.  We slept on cots with Thermarest mattresses which Charlie found more comfortable than his boat berth!

Whale Watching 

Susie ready for action

We went out every day powered by a 4 stroke 225 horse Honda motor, whizzing across the water at 25 knots or so. (At night this valuable boat was padlocked to a buried chain against possible theft.) The boat was painted blue on the bottom. We found that whales would approach our boat more than others. Maybe it was because of the quiet motor and blue color.

"Right Handed" whale, barnacles on left

Our first afternoon out we encountered groups of three whales playing together. Like raptors, the female grays are larger than the males and generally accompanied by two consorts as they swim through the shallow waters of the bay. Being 40-45 feet long they can’t dive deep here in 20-50 feet. Amazingly the grays don’t feed in these waters. They fatten up during summers in the Bering Sea and then swim about 100 miles a day using energy stored in blubber, til they get to the lagoons where the females either mate or calf. A benefit for observers is that their spout water, with which we were frequently showered, isn’t fishy smelling. These whales are bottom feeders with narrow heads, barnacled on one side, the other scraped clean by digging into the mud as, swimming on their sides, they plow up amphipods and crustaceans.

This side scrapes the bottom while feeding

Double blowhole characteristic of baleen whales

Most of the whales just swim away or play with their threesome, but a few came up to the panga to look at us, swim back and forth under it and even bump and rub up against it. The barnacles and sea lice clustered all over their backs must be somewhat itchy. The last morning on a calm sea a dozen whale watching pangas were out. One friendly whale went from boat to boat, poking its head up and inviting touches.

Surprise!

On the second day we went to the mouth of Mag Bay looking for mating whales. We quickly found the action, whales thrashing around unmindful of gawking observers, and exposing what our guide dubbed “the Pink Floyd.” Charlie’s best photo shows a joyful male exposing his stomach, flippers outstretched and PF in view. Sideways profile shots eluded us.

Pink Floyd... Let it all hang out!

We also went to the Bajo area of the bay where in 4 fathoms or so the calves are born and begin to develop. The shallows are safer for the babies. There were two we saw but most calving occurs in the northern lagoons. 

Side Trips

Our other activities included a morning paddle up the closest estuary. The lowish tide opened up mudflats for many wading birds to forage. The red mangroves here were much smaller and less robust than in San Blas or Maz.

Charlie, Susie, Sue, Judy, Anne and Jan

We also panga-ed over to the fishing village of Magdalena, a few miles west, where we observed fish skins drying, took a botanical hike and looked down at the Pacific shore. This area was once explored as a phosphate source, but the mines were never developed, fortunately, as little of the mineral was found.

Sunsets and dune walks on the skinny barrier island entertained us and exercised our cameras. Desicated sand rooted shrubs were home to huge numbers of white snails. How they survive in the arid conditions is a mystery, but I bet the hungry coyotes crunch up quite a number. Strange to say this place was hard to leave.