Whale Watching in Baja California Sur's Magdalena Bay

“One Touch of Nature Makes the Whole World Kin.” William Shakespeare

I am leaning over the side of a 25-foot (7.6 m) wooden panga, or dinghy, in Magdalena Bay, on the Pacific Coast of the Mexican state of Baja California Sur, peering through the clear, blue green water. A huge creature is swimming directly below me, nudging the sides of the small boat, causing it to rock back and forth. My head is filled with a duet of apprehension and excitement. It reaches a crescendo when a loud “whoosh” pierces the air. A gray whale, the size of a school bus, shoots out of the water, plops down by my side of the boat and skims the water’s surface.

Jorgé, my guide, is a former fisherman from Puerto Adolfo López Mateo, a village on the edge of Magdalena Bay. When over-fishing destroyed the livelihood of Jorgé and other fishermen in the area, they recycled themselves as panga operators and whale-watching tour guides. The hard life of a fisherman is etched on his creased, craggy face, making him look older than his 43 years. Jorgé is shouting, telling me, “Touch it! Touch the whale when it comes up, it will be good luck.” I’m not so sure.

Sandwiched between the Pacific Ocean and the Sea of Cortéz, the Baja California peninsula comprised by the two Mexican states of Baja California and Baja California Sur stretches 1,100 miles (1,700 km) from its northern end touching California, to Cabos San Lucas at its southern end. It is a rugged land of contrasts. Dusk-colored mountains loom over a sun-lit desert that is filled with cacti, deep canyons and steep-sided gullies. Cardón cacti, two stories high, stand at attention like sentinels guarding the land. Cholla cacti with their arms intertwined share the landscape with prickly pear and organ pipe cacti.

La Paz, the capitol of Baja California Sur,
has become a mecca for fishing and tourism.

La Paz (the Peace), the capital of Baja California Sur, sits on a bay at the Sea of Cortéz. As a gateway to over 50 uninhabited coastal islands of the Sea of Cortéz, as well as the many whale-watching activities in Magdalena Bay, San Ignacio, Scammon’s Lagoon and Guerrrero Negro, La Paz pulses with activity.

Its mile-long, wrap-around waterfront is dotted with tour operators, souvenir shops and restaurants. In the 1600’s, La Paz was a pearl divers’ mecca, famous for its creamy, translucent pearls. But, disease and over-harvesting ravished the once fertile oyster beds and by the late 1930’s, La Paz’s pearl industry was over. Now, it is a mecca for fishing and tourism.

Jorgé is speeding across the narrow Boco del Soledad channel and we come into a lagoon that is so flat and still, I think I could skate on it. Ripples from our panga lap onto the dense, gnarled mangroves that fringe the shoreline. As we approach Magdalena Bay, the “Chesapeake of the Pacific,” the mangroves give way to golden stretches of sun-gilded sand dunes. Through my binoculars, I spy three coyotes walking slowly along the sandy, isolated shore, eyeing us with interest.

Magdalena Bay is a hangout for gray whales. Imagine swimming over 4,000 miles (6,500 km) to get to your vacation spot. That’s what gray whales do each year, leaving their feeding grounds near Alaska, dodging tankers, trash and fishing nets along the way. Just like college students on spring break they come here for food, fun and games. Others loll about in the warm, protected lagoons of Guerrero Negro, Scammon and San Ignacio. In the spring, the whales trek back north.

My whale reappears, rolls over on its side and eyes me calmly. I’m not calm. I’m apprehensive, especially since the bay has become a bubbling cauldron of activity. Waterspouts erupt all around us. Whales are everywhere, circling other boats, vying for attention. This behavior is a dramatic change from the 19th and early 20th centuries when they were called “Devilfish” by commercial whalers who hunted them almost to extinction. Using their powerful tail flukes the whales capsized and smashed whaling boats to protect their young from harpooners. As commercial whale hunting diminished, the whales’ behavior toward humans changed and now they are “friendly.”

The whale edges back to my side of the boat and rolls over. Jorgé is so excited, I think he’s going to tumble into the water with the whale and meet the same fate as Jonah. He is shouting, “Touch it, touch it,” and I plunge my hand in the water.

Its ample coastline and crystal blue waters make Baja California Sur the ideal location for whale watching.

My fingers brush against a spongy, squashy skin pitted like that of an acne sufferer. Yellow-brown barnacles on the whale’s skin gleam like jewels encrusted in a crown. Two blowholes in its head give it an eerie appearance, for they are deep, dark voids. I stroke the head and then the body. I am caught in a special moment encased in a delicate, imaginary bubble with the whale. The whale rolls over once more and I lightly rub the other side of the mottled skin.

Smoothly moving away from my hand, the whale dives under the boat and rocks it gently. Surfacing once more, it leaps up, flips the tail in a good-bye gesture and swims away. Jorgé points to another spot in the bay. Off we go toward waterspouts cascading like dancing water fountains.

Gliding close to our boat, a whale introduces us to her calf. Like any proud parent, the whale nudges the calf toward us. Then, in synchronization that would rival any Las Vegas show, they start the entertainment. The mother and calf leap out of the water, raise their tail flukes and nosedive below. In unison, they lunge back out of the water, flutter their tails at us and turn over on their sides. I applaud a

ppreciatively.

These two whales are ham actors who have rehearsed the show often. With flawless coordination, they dive below our boat. In a few minutes, they resurface and replay their act. I don’t want them to stop so I clap, pound the sides of the boat and whistle for them to continue. They are maestros playing to a rapt audience. I want to give them a standing ovation, but fear of falling overboard in a sea swarming with whales makes me come to my senses. After repeating the show three more times, the mother whale gently prods her calf and, in perfect harmony, the two whales disappear into the water.

Back on shore, I smile. I continue to smile every time I think of the whales. That’s what touching a whale does to you. You find yourself with a smile on your face just remembering.

If You Go

Mexico Tourism Board
www.visitmexico.com

Here are some tour companies specializing in gray whale-watching tours in the lagoonsof the Sea of Cortez and Magdalena Bay. January to April is the best time to see whales.

A sunset cruise off the shores of Baja is the perfect end to a day of adventure.

Mexican Association of Adventure Travel and Ecotourism
www.amtave.org
This national organization groups together professional Mexican outfitters focused on promoting and operating local ecotourism and adventure travel. Various links are available for travelers in search of Mexican adventure companies.

Baja Whales
www.netconnection.com
Website for travelers interested in visiting Baja California Sur. Provides links to professional outfitters and guide companies focusing on whale watching adventures and information on hiring local guides.

Baja Adventure Company
Oceanside, CA 92054
877-560-2252
www.bajaecotours.com
Safari-style eco-adventures to San Ignacio Lagoon. Variety of five- and seven-day whale-watching expeditions. Operates tours from mid-January through April.

American Cetacean Society
San Pedro, CA 90733
310-548-6279
www.acsonline.org
Specializes in whale and dolphin conservation and education. Conducts five-day land-based trips and 12 day cruises in February and March with whale-watching in San Ignacio Lagoon, Magdalena Bay and other Sea of Cortez lagoons. Trips start from San Diego, CA.

Baja Expeditions
San Diego, CA 92109
800-843-6987
www.bajaex.com
Offers five-day whale-watching, snorkeling, hiking, and kayaking trips from San Diego, CA to Baja in February and March; seven-day trips from La Paz (camping on beach) during February; and eight-day cruises around the tip of Baja from La Paz to Magdalena Bay (or reverse) on the Don Jose (limited to 14 passengers) in February with whale-watching in Magdalena Bay.

Cruise West
Seattle, WA 98121
888-851-8133
www.cruisewest.com
Casual, personal cruises that focus on the destination. Offers eight-day, seven-night cruises from La Paz to the coastal islands of the Sea of Cortez, Puerto Escondido and Loreto. Whale-watching in Magdalena Bay, kayaking, nature hikes, snorkeling and beach activities.