February 10-12, 2025
“You can dance, I promise”
― Tequila
We are sitting in front of our tent, which in of it self is a weird thing for me to say - more on that subject in a moment. A tour van just arrived right outside of our flap overlooking a sticky tidal flat here at San Ignacio Lagoon. Out of the large white vehicle poured a group of American tourists chattering excitedly about a whale watching adventure.
However what faced them was the bay at low tide and the nearest long boat to take them out was over 100 yards away. They would have to trek across the sandy mud then wade to reach the boats. The tourists, being Americans, quickly tried to get the local Mexican guides to act as Sherpas to carry their considerable gear across the wet tenacious plain. They had limited success.
It was fun to watch from our vantage point on a lofty perch outside tent #1 here at our camp. Sitting on cheap lawn chairs we had purchased in a small village near here, we felt like old camping veterans watching the “Newbies” get their feet wet. As they marched passed us with a mixture of of admiration and jealousy on their faces, they had no idea how much we did not merit the exalted status. We have only been here 7 hours ourselves. But the sad muddy pilgrims did not know that and I wasn’t inclined to reveal the truth.
And we came in at high tide.
How did we come to be here?
We have been traveling steadily north along the Baja Peninsula. Since leaving Loreto earlier on the trip. We too were working our way here.
We found local beaches filled with campers and ex pats. The water was exceptionally clear.
We stopped in Mulege and by serendipity came across this eclectic hotel. The proprietor was a dapper 73 year old man named Javier who sported colorful scarf scarf, a neatly trimmed beard, and a smart flat cap. His english was excellent and he described his story to us, his successful 4 children, his love of this hotel, and the great hurricane of 2009.
Mulege is noted for being adjacent to one of only two natural rivers on the peninsula. As you get closer, the desert landscape gives way to a sea of thirsty palm trees dependent on the fresh water. But the beautiful river has a curse as well. Mulege has been at the center of at least 5 hurricanes in recent decades. The river, opening into the Sea of Cortez, is very vulnerable to storm surge and the town has been devastated by flooding several times. The last time was in 2009 completely destroying Javier’s hotel.
He shrugged it off. “Mexican people are hard working and very resilient”, he declared, and gesturing with his hand, “ Look at the place now.”
Indeed, take a look. Below are some pictures of his idyllic inn. The space is filled with Birds, flowering plants, wood carvings, Mexican, Asian, and Catholic antiques. A 13 year old half blind Labrador named “CoCo” has run of the restaurant.
It shouldn’t work, but it does. In the thoughtful messiness a beautiful peaceful garden has emerged. It was my favorite place to stay during our trip
There is a local town square in Mulege. On one side is a local family’s storefront serving fresh grilled shrimp tacos for over 30 years. I can now say with conviction that grilled shrimp tacos with a little lime is one of the greatest foods this small blue world has to offer.
The old mission here was built 26 years before George Washington was born. There is history here and a well deserved pride in local people.
We pressed northward from Mulege, past abandoned copper mines and more working sea side villages. Tourism was less of an industry here. Parts of the town more inland in the desert had ramshackle buildings and conditions appeared harsher. Dogs were everywhere, content as always. For some reason, in this hot climate, their were a fair amount of Huskies.
After passing through more mountain passes we descended on the Pacific side to our goal, San Ignacio. This old town also boasts a shady people friendly square. It also hosted one of the most elegant old Jesuit/Dominican missions I have ever seen.
We are here for a reason. Like the hapless eco-tourists mentioned earlier, there is a place here that offers a unique experience. We read about a overnight camping and whale watching excursion that takes us to the very isolated San Ignacio Lagoon. Here, in the most intimate natural whale watching experience we know of, you can camp by the bay and take small long boats out to view Grey Whales and their calves closer than anywhere else in the world.
So we signed on, made the long drive across a very empty alluvial plain early this morning to our camp.
It was a grey overcast day. As we drove farther away from the town, our cell service disappeared. We would be off the grid for the entire time, which in of itself is a blessing.
As we drove into the valley approaching the bay a wall of fog greeted us. We were alone on this old highway and I thought if we crash, no one would find us here for a very long time. We left the pavement and started down a washboard dirt road for the last 10 miles following the map we were given.
The road was slightly elevated above a vast tidal plane. We could not see the bay yet. It was hard to believe water could extend all the way out where we were, but apparently it does.
Clearly this place is hard to get to, which made the adventure more exciting. At last we arrived at the camp. Here was a well organized camp right by the bay. There was a central registration building, a small cafeteria, latrines and a number of neat large tents that stretched our along the curve of he beach. The staff was bilingual, nice, and one genuinely felt you had arrived at a summer camp.
Not long after we arrived it was time for the first tour to leave into the waiting bay. We had a brief safety meeting and we were off.
The reason people come here is the Grey Whale. Grey Whales, as baleen whales go, are on the smaller side. Still, they are whales and adults reach a length of 30 feet and can weigh 30 tons. Think of a school bus with flippers.
Greys are a fairly common species that if you live on the west coast you can often see just off the beach as they make their long migration from the arctic here to Baja to breed.
They do not eat while they are here. The come to this lagoon for one thing and one thing only.
The Grey Whale is known to have little fear of humans. They are soulful, curious creatures who on occasion will surface right at a boat and even allow themselves to be touched.
It was that experience, however rarely it occurs, that drew us here along with the other campers.
So, after just arriving from a somewhat bewildering trip to get here , we were herded into a 16 foot open long boat and whisked off to the observation area. We did not have long to wait. Soon school bus sized animals were surfacing around us. None seemed interested in coming directly to the boat, but they were insanely close to us, some only 10-40 yards away.
Now, the photos here reflect that challenge of photographing a grey animal on a grey sea under grey skies. Furthermore, unlike the theatrical Humpbacks or the the majestic Blue whales that commonly show you their enormous tails as they dive, Grey Whales are fairly routine in their behavior. (Unless they approach the boat). So the cell phone pictures are not as great.
But none of that took away form hearing the spray of their blow hole as the emerged from the deep right beside your small boat. Each time they came to the surface it was a wonder that such such a huge thing could be swimming effortlessly just beneath you.
Each tour we took we were introduced to a new set of unique fellow passengers. On our maiden journey we had with us Maxine, a 30 something Mexican girl with long dense unkept curly hair, a technical jacket with patches that told of other whale tours, and yoga pants. She looked like your image of a surfer girl who camps at the beach just a little too often.
Even though she works as a guide with other operators, she said she was here as a fellow passenger. But it did not take much effort for her to share her knowledge as she would explain things to the rest of us . She moved about the small bouncing boat with confident feline ease. She was quite the wild child, so much so as I tentatively stood from my position in the bow to try to take picture, I looked towards the stern to see Maxine with her now naked bottom hanging off the stern voiding without a care in the world. The surprised boat captain was keeping his gaze firmly looking straight ahead.
That was not all. She was obviously very passionate about her subject. She clearly loved whales. Every time one would surface she would moan with pleasure vocally rather like the sounds one might hear watching a steamy love scene. The whole craziness added to the journey.
We returned to camp and began to get to know our tent. We unpacked our gear and settled down to camp for the night. From our lawn chairs we purchased we sat for the most beautiful sunset. Near by was an old hippy who lives in his camper. He sat outside plucking his own the banjo softly giving a lovely soundtrack to the gathering dusk. Although we did not know it then, he would become a bigger part of our story tomorrow.
That night, blistering cold winds came from the North under a very bright full moon And although the tent felt secure, we held on listening to the roar of the wind tear at the fabric of the canvas. It was a night of little sleep. We felt certain at any moment we would be lifted airborne like Dorothy and swept away to Oz.
By dawn the winds had died down, the grey clouds left and the bay was breezy , blue, and inviting. After some much needed coffee we set off again into the bay.
But this time….
We were joined in our boat by a very pleasant gay couple who both were practicing Shamans/new age healers. They carried with them a brass song bowl, a hand held rain stick , and crystals. They asked to lead the members of the boat in a guided meditation to summon the positive energy need to communicate with our ancestors and the whales.
Since we were in the middle of the bay with no where to go we had little choice but to accept. But the truth is it was lovely and everyone embraced the gesture and mood it set for the trip.
Now I know what you are thinking...you think they looked like this -
Nope - actually here they are - and some of the nicest people you would ever meet -
But that is not all. Remember the Banjo player? Well he joined us that morning as well. A very nice guy named Ron with a deeply tanned face and a braided beard. He looked like a man that has lived some hard years on the road.. But he was at peace, living his dream and was a full time resident of Baja 6 months of the year. He talked about his love of mushrooms and offered marijuana edibles to the Shaman girls (they accepted)
As our shaman leader continued to lead the group it soon became evident the Colleen and Ron had a connection. You see, he attended the same High School she did in 1979. She was on the drill team and he was a second string football player.
How, after all these decades they would reunite on a whale boat in a lagoon in Baja boogles the mind.
Our shaman girls continued their spiritual rituals on the trip singling Lakota Sioux chants ( I am not making that up) to the bay while playing their instruments.
We were soon rewarded with a number of whales surfacing near the boat. in the bright sun, their grey backs festooned with patches of white and green barnacles shown brightly.
Many came so close to the boat as the shaman girls called out greetings to them and offered small crystals as a sacrifice to them in gratitude.
It was weird, very pagan, and wonderful.
The next night in the tent was less windy. We felt experienced now and slept well exhausted from being bounced around hard in the boats as they powered through the bay.
In another two months the whales will leave here and begin the long trek north.
There were less of them this year than in years past. Scientists do not know why but they suspect climate change in the artic has affected their feeding habits and less feel strong enough to make the long journey.
We felt privileged to see them. In the coming years, they may be gone for good.
It is time for us as well.. We need to start for home.
This will be the last posting for this episode of The Road to Bali. We have traveled all across two wildly divergent peninsulas here in North America finding fascinating stories, great beauty, and a warm and generous people. It was close encounters of the best kind. We are richer for the journey.
For those that followed along, I thank you.
In the next few days we will start for home after some visits with our children and some old friends.
As we have traveled, again and again we have affirmed for ourselves that people are generally good, want the same things we do, and have much to teach us.
Rick Steves writes, “Thoughtful travel quickly disabuses you of the notion that the world is one big pyramid with America at the top and everyone else below. It is simply not true”
Indeed, we have found in our 50 plus countries we have now visited, that the world is instead a beautiful mosaic. Up close individual pieces may look flinty and chipped, but when you back away and look at the whole picture, a gorgeous scene emerges.
America, as magnificent as she can be, is only one small part of the whole. It is a beautiful piece, but not the only one.
And I am good with that.
Comments