Ensenada Grande on Espiritu Santo and Los Islotes
As the sun cracked the plane of the horizon, curved dorsal fins sliced through the water in front of the bow. The glare of burning orange moved laterally and pink rays underlit the few wispy clouds; we leaned over the edge to stare down at battle-grey sleek bodies that were significantly larger than yesterday's marine mammals: bottlenose dolphins. Sleepy eye met sleepy eye and a sense of tranquility was shared. The dolphins were merely saying a brief "good morning"; they seemed not quite awake enough to leap and play yet. After a brief encounter they moved off and we steamed on to Espiritu Santo where a tranquil bay opened to a white sandy beach with a lush arroyo behind. In a small lagoon a reddish egret fished, punctuating long periods of immobility with an effective lightning jab. Slightly higher, atop the sandy dunes, Costa's hummingbirds fought for prime territory, their buzzing whirling around our heads and their gorgeous purple gorgets glistening in the sun. Sauntering up the arroyo, we passed piles of oyster shell castings, their piles attesting to earlier native tribes that managed to eke out a living in this arid land. Desert oregano's pungent aroma wafted towards us, the vibrant orange dahlia-esque blooms of a dogweed interspersed with the oregano branches. The placid waters beckoned, and returning to the beach we slipped into kayaks and glided through the flat mirrored surface, escorted by schools of mullet, Mexican goatfish and zebra perch. The visibility was incredible, as emerald waters revealed wavy peaks of white sand twenty feet below. While we munched lunch on deck, the crew shifted our anchorage for the afternoon to Los Islotes. The cool breeze on the cruise over to this small rock outcrop island was welcome.
Once we had arrived, we were no longer able to resist the aquatic call, so we slipped into the water to gain a closer look at the fish and sea lions. Sea lions buzzed all around us, sometimes stopping suddenly, hanging upside down to use a back flipper to scratch an ear. How do they achieve those yoga postures so effortlessly? Even more impressive is the inverted, underwater nature of those impossible forms. We could only gasp and giggle in awe, and involuntarily flinch as they zoomed towards us, veering to the side at the last possible moment. The fish swirling beneath were equally amazing: giant bumphead parrotfish, schools of yellowtail surgeonfish, cobalt juvenile Cortez damselfish flitting among the cobble, and peachy Pacific creolefish subsiding to the depths. Boarding the Zodiacs again we cruised around the island, listening to the whistling honks of courting blue footed boobies and admiring the soaring magnificent frigatebirds. Some frigates perched on the rocky crags, with a few males puffing up their red gular pouches for any interested females to admire. Steaming off for a sunset cruise, we encountered a sizeable pod of common dolphins that leaped acrobatically in front of the ship's prow. How could a day be better spent? Had Julius Caesar joined our Lindblad Expedition trip, rather than "Veni, vidi, vici" he would have sighed, "I came, I saw, I relaxed."
As the sun cracked the plane of the horizon, curved dorsal fins sliced through the water in front of the bow. The glare of burning orange moved laterally and pink rays underlit the few wispy clouds; we leaned over the edge to stare down at battle-grey sleek bodies that were significantly larger than yesterday's marine mammals: bottlenose dolphins. Sleepy eye met sleepy eye and a sense of tranquility was shared. The dolphins were merely saying a brief "good morning"; they seemed not quite awake enough to leap and play yet. After a brief encounter they moved off and we steamed on to Espiritu Santo where a tranquil bay opened to a white sandy beach with a lush arroyo behind. In a small lagoon a reddish egret fished, punctuating long periods of immobility with an effective lightning jab. Slightly higher, atop the sandy dunes, Costa's hummingbirds fought for prime territory, their buzzing whirling around our heads and their gorgeous purple gorgets glistening in the sun. Sauntering up the arroyo, we passed piles of oyster shell castings, their piles attesting to earlier native tribes that managed to eke out a living in this arid land. Desert oregano's pungent aroma wafted towards us, the vibrant orange dahlia-esque blooms of a dogweed interspersed with the oregano branches. The placid waters beckoned, and returning to the beach we slipped into kayaks and glided through the flat mirrored surface, escorted by schools of mullet, Mexican goatfish and zebra perch. The visibility was incredible, as emerald waters revealed wavy peaks of white sand twenty feet below. While we munched lunch on deck, the crew shifted our anchorage for the afternoon to Los Islotes. The cool breeze on the cruise over to this small rock outcrop island was welcome.
Once we had arrived, we were no longer able to resist the aquatic call, so we slipped into the water to gain a closer look at the fish and sea lions. Sea lions buzzed all around us, sometimes stopping suddenly, hanging upside down to use a back flipper to scratch an ear. How do they achieve those yoga postures so effortlessly? Even more impressive is the inverted, underwater nature of those impossible forms. We could only gasp and giggle in awe, and involuntarily flinch as they zoomed towards us, veering to the side at the last possible moment. The fish swirling beneath were equally amazing: giant bumphead parrotfish, schools of yellowtail surgeonfish, cobalt juvenile Cortez damselfish flitting among the cobble, and peachy Pacific creolefish subsiding to the depths. Boarding the Zodiacs again we cruised around the island, listening to the whistling honks of courting blue footed boobies and admiring the soaring magnificent frigatebirds. Some frigates perched on the rocky crags, with a few males puffing up their red gular pouches for any interested females to admire. Steaming off for a sunset cruise, we encountered a sizeable pod of common dolphins that leaped acrobatically in front of the ship's prow. How could a day be better spent? Had Julius Caesar joined our Lindblad Expedition trip, rather than "Veni, vidi, vici" he would have sighed, "I came, I saw, I relaxed."
