Day 10 – La Paz Bay

We drifted off the coast of the Peninsula, silhouettes of uninhabited tiny islets scattered around. Pretty pink skies ran the show and intensified the contrast of land and water. La Sierra de la Giganta mountain range towered over rows and rows of cacti on isolated beaches. Tranquility disrupted by the most exotic fishing ship jazzed up with turkey vultures eyeing their fishy nets and fins circling around the boat. Nope, not sharks, but a pod of bored Bottlenose Dolphins on high alert. They wanted to play, the fishermen apathetic. Luckily we were there to rev it up and bring in the wakes. It gave them one hell of a ride.

After an hour of watching them playfully bounce around, we sailed down secluded beaches at the foot of the Sierra, the desert carpeted in shrubs, cacti and palm groves. Signs of civilization emerged as we headed back south towards La Paz. People fishing, their 4x4s parked next to their tents. Deserted fishing shacks were spread on the beach the closer we sailed to La Paz as kayakers paddled along. I wondered what lay in the desert beyond the coast, how long it took these introverts to get here and whether boat traffic in these waters disrupted wildlife. My chain of thoughts came to a screeching halt when “eagle eyes” spotted a green sea turtle tangled in a fishing net and floating trash. As luck would have it, the experts on the boat undid the net and saved it. It was really touching. It swam back in and survived. Despite the fact that humans can disrupt the natural order of things for selfish reasons (good or bad), we can still do good and come to the rescue, assuming everyone is as compassionate as the group I was with. After that cheerful episode, I sank back in my chair and basked in the sun.

At 1:40pm, a massive grey shadow obstructed the blue calm waters of La Paz Bay. It was a solitary Sperm Whale elegantly swimming towards Isla Espiritu Santo, blowing at an angle because of its weird big head. It’s head is home to the biggest brain which can weight up to 9kgs. Does it make them the smartest mammals on earth? Biologists can only speculate.

At around 5pm, we headed towards the archipelago of Isla Espiritu, an UNESCO World Heritage Site and anchored at the northern tip. Los Islotes is a tiny island with jagged rocks and a colony of sea lions. The older ones lounging on the rocks keeping an eye out, the young ones bobbing in and out of the water calling for us to swim in. I was totally unprepared for the super cold water temps below 20C. After 10 minutes of snorkeling with the playful ones who nibbled on my gear and tickled me with their long whiskers, my calf muscle tightened. I couldn’t care less, exotic reef fish swam by me. I floated over intricate coral reefs, but all I could think of was my calf. While the group swam towards the natural arch teeming with life, I went back to the boat, followed by a few wobbling humans.

Right before sunset, we circled around the island (on a boat) rife with a variety of sea lion activity, brown and blue footed boobies on patrol. Going with the flow, we observed how they lived in style, the color of their fur revealing how long they’ve been out of the water. Their behavior identical to how people relax in all you can eat resorts in the summer. Swim, sunbathe, unwind. A group of hanger on sea lions hung around the one with swagger, and followed orders every time it barked. A few pups ran into the shallow cove, courageous ones barked back and shuffled around, and females were sought after. Big cute eyes looking right at us, flippers sticking out, it was cuteness overload. Time was up, we set off towards Los Cabos as their incessant calls and barks faded in the background.