(I spent the entire month of January 2023 in Mexico, traveling down the Baja California Peninsula. This is the second in my series about the trip– check out other posts from this as well, all will include ‘Baja’ or ‘Bahia’ or ‘Playa” in the title, and will likely feature pictures of pristine beaches).
Multiple species of wildlife migrate through or station themselves in the Baja region during the winter. One of those is the grey whale, which has a major birthing area just off the coast, on the shallow and protected side of an old fishing bay in a town called Guerrero Negro.
Guerrero Negro is a place that derived its name from a pirate legend, but the actual tale is less saucy than implied. The port town was initially a fishing and pirating super-hub, and now made much of its living through mining their salt flats, and tourism— thanks to these whale spawning grounds.
Grey whales come to this area to have and raise their calves every January and February— when exactly they will arrive is unknown, but our Baja expert friends had it on good intelligence that they’d be there as I made my way back up the coast to California.
My planning-mode kicked in: Would I need a reservation? Which company to choose? At least about the reservation, our caravan hosts were clear— I wouldn’t need one. Astonished (as this was whale high season), I was told just to arrive at the best tour company in town the night before I wanted a tour, and they’d take care of the rest.
This seemed too easy to be true, but I had learned in Mexico that being more laid-back did have its advantages. So I went with the flow.
The recommended tour company was Mariscos, the longest-serving tour operator in the area. They claimed to be one of the only tours that employed actual biologists to help spot and observe the animals— which was good enough for me.
When I arrived for the night, they even had a safe, walled parking lot — super-easy, if not the most beautiful setting for the night. The next day was due to be in the 80s, and I knew that leaving Mac for 4 hours in the morning would wreck my nerves— so I took the typical precautions for him: all windows covered, some windows slightly open for air, two fans on— and I was pleased that when I came back, temperatures inside were still cool. My pooch had slept happily the whole time!
Back to the tour— a bilingual guide spoke in both English and Spanish as we took a short (15-minute) bus ride down to the archipelago that led to the boats. Salt flats were clearly visible from the windows, and he talked about purchasing salt drawn right from them, if we desired. The salt crystals mimicked icy white frost on the sand and rock, and we passed a processing plant as we traveled.
Having seen the way the whale sharks were so carefully protected in La Paz, I hoped for the same for the grey whales and their babies. At the exact moment I was thinking this, the guide was describing how the whales, being curious, might come up quite close to the boats or even breech or splash nearby. He then said, “The Mexican government does not want you to touch the whales…. However, the Mexican government is not on this tour”— to which the rest of my tour group cheered and applauded.
Well. So much for careful conservation. I remembered that my caravan hosts had flagged this company as one of the most ethical and long-serving in the area— which made me wonder a little about what I might see from the less-reputable tour companies out there.
And I soon found out— there seemed to be a bunch of boats just waiting near the docks for our trained drivers and guides— it was clear they intended not to search for the whales on their own, but to just lazily follow the one tour company that always knew where it was going. Sure enough, our two boats were ‘tailed’ out into the water by about six other crafts.
All were small speedboats that only held about 12 people each, and I wondered how each would hold up to the lapping of the seas. Luckily, quite well. I didn’t feel sick in the 4 hours we were out on the sea, thanks to a pretty clutch sea wall and a fairly competent captain.
Once we got to the area containing the whales, we didn’t have to wait long to see them— their massive grey-blue backs and fins would slip above the water as they took a breath, then would disappear back into the waves. Sometimes, I could barely swing my head around in time to see them before they dipped back under the surface. Other times, they made more languid bobs up to the surface and lingered a moment– a few even breached out of the water, for what seemed like 7-11-style “Big Gulps” of air.
Seeing the first little fin of a baby was just magical— I think my heart nearly exploded. They were so much shorter than their massive mums, a pint-sized version of a giant-to-be. Getting to see one small fin or angled back bobbing alongside the bigger one of their mother (as seen below from afar)– that definitely tugged at the heart.
I’m cognizant that looking at someone else’s whale-watching pictures are like listening to someone describe their dreams—while vivid to the teller, the visuals are often boring to a person forced to consider them. So, I’ll be careful to only include some of the best photos I got, and not expose you to a boring reel of hundreds of tiny fins only visible at a far distance.
But I do want to remind you before continuing too far– that I took every single one of these pictures using my iPhone. THAT’s how close to these great beasts we were.
Early into our voyage, we heard a massive splash right next to the boat— looking over, we found a curious whale had popped its barnacle-laced head right out of the water! This whale stayed above the surface for a moment, as if regarding us— as if trying to look us in the eye (not that finding his eye was easy, given the amount of barnacles all over him).
He blew a shot of air right out of his blowhole before dipping back under the surface.
Our boat erupted in astonished, excitable ‘yelps’ at this point — and of course, a few idiots tried to touch the beast, who smartly chose that moment to depart our company.
Even with our guide’s warning, I was not quite ready for how close the whales got to the boats— it was extraordinary to witness. The mothers would often push their young calves to the surface— presumably to allow the calf to get a bigger breath more easily— but also, potentially to have a look at all of us? It was hard not to see them as curious about our presence, since they came around the boats so often (despite the option to head out to sea).
(Below, you can see one tossing his fin up right between the two boats in the area).
I’d had a feeling there would be no English guide on the water, and there was not. So, while I wish I could relay amazing facts about these whales, I did not have enough Spanish under my belt to follow the tour guide’s words once we were in the boat.
That said, there’s some things that defy language— and the pure joy that my Spanish-speaking boatmates found in this particular expedition was not lost on me. I took a few videos of the whales coming up above the surface, and the audio still cracks me up to hear— grown men and women whooping and hollering with enthusiasm whenever a whale came around.
It was an unmistakeable sound— that same one that expresses the inner joy that children feel when they see animals. It’s a pure feeling adults can occasionally find, if we are able to drop our cynicism. Their sheer enthusiasm was contagious, and delightful.
Even with the grace they moved with, the sheer power and force of these animals was still in the back of my mind— when a few came up right underneath the boat, their long, massive bodies could be a bit intimidating to see right below the only floating device we had. I’d watched enough nature documentaries to be dangerous— even an errant fin flick from a whale can be deadly: but of course, they were gentle as lambs.
It was a felicitous few hours on the water— and an experience that exceeded my expectations DESPITE having seen photos of so many close encounters with the whales. I was so glad I had taken the extra day and made a brief detour to see these incredible animals (and their babies!).
It was an experience I’ll never forget. But poor Mac slept through the whole thing!
Posted by Sun
