Written by Heather AtamanPhotos provided by various group members.
“Buenos Dias,” was the friendly greeting by our Mexican guide Ramon each morning as we arose to another glorious day in the Baja. We filled our mugs and planted ourselves in our camp chairs to watch the sunrise in the east. We knew it wouldn’t be long before the procession of bottlenosed dolphins made their way up the coast to feast on the bounty of fish in the Sea of Cortez. How did such an idyllic setting come about? Well to be honest, it was an idea hatched in the Yukon after a sixteen-day paddle on the Wind River. Dave had wanted to kayak in the Baja, and managed (easily) to sell the idea to five of us. Personally, I was also motivated by the bonus of escaping winter for a couple of weeks, the first time since the pandemic!
The members of the group were: Mike Visschedyk, Sandra Rutherford, John O’Grady, Gary Ataman, Heather Ataman, Dave Leigh and our guide, Ramon Alvarado.
The Baja California Sur (BCS) is a Mexican State in the southern portion of Baja California. The entire peninsula is engulfed by the Sea of Cortez on the east coast and the Pacific Ocean on the western side. Flying into Loreto, a small greenish patch, literally an oasis in the desert, was a reassuring sight. For most of the flight south it was an arid landscape dotted with cacti and other small shrubs and trees that can withstand the lack of water for most of each year. The rainy season is considered to be from July to October when hurricanes can form, however, September is the wettest month on average. These rains must sustain all life on the Baja during a persistent period of drought.
Because of the lack of natural freshwater, it was necessary to carry all the water we need for cooking and drinking. Everyone has heard of a food drop, but we had a water drop halfway into our eight-day kayak adventure. This was a phenomenon that seemed foreign to paddlers, or at least to our group of six. All the freshwater we consumed came from a purification plant in nearby Loreto. We contemplated whether it would be advisable to treat this water, just to be on the safe side, but were assured by Ramon it wasn’t necessary. I’m happy to report his assessment was correct and the water was perfectly safe to drink as is.
Before we began our kayak trip, we spent a few days doing the touristy thing in and around Loreto, a small, picturesque town on the sea with a dramatic backdrop of the Sierra La Giganta mountains. One of the oldest buildings in the town is the Misión de Nuestra Señora de Loreto, established in 1697 by the Spanish and completed in 1744. The historic town centre features a public square lined on all sides with original Spanish architecture. Adjacent, is a pedestrian walkway shaded by beautifully trained fig trees. We enjoyed the local cuisine, particularly all the Mexican favourites, and of course the Margaritas!
Ramon offered us a private whale watching excursion in an area on the Sea of Cortez known as ‘the blue triangle’. Renowned for its abundance of krill (a tiny crustacean), it attracts the largest animal on Earth, the blue whale. We were fortunate to observe two blues as they were feeding. It was a magnificent sight, and such a privilege to witness these enormous creatures maneuver gracefully in the sea as they breathe and subsequently dive to the depths to feed on the schools of krill. The whales weren’t the only marine life we saw, there were numerous dolphins playfully following our boat, and a manta ray with its ‘wings’ breaking the surface. It is no surprise why famed French environmentalist Jacques Cousteau described Mexico’s Sea of Cortez as “the world’s aquarium.”
Having satisfied our desire to explore Loreto, and still awe-struck by the blue whales, we eagerly packed up our gear and left our comfy vacation rental. We were shuttled 115 km to our put-in, just south of the town of Mulegé. We had a lunch of freshly made tamales wrapped in corn husks before we set off.
Our plan for the day was to cross Bahía Concepción and camp on the east side of this deep bay. It was a lovely day with a brisk wind, but we were protected from any serious waves. We reached our site, set up camp and explored the beach. Nearby there was an abandoned beach shack. According to Ramon, a man lived there in solitude all his life. There is plenty of uninhabited space in the Baja, perfect for those who choose to shun society. The only deterrent is the lack of freshwater, which has kept the Baja free from overdevelopment.
We contended with windy, wavy conditions for the next two days as we left the protection of the bay behind and began to paddle in the Sea of Cortez. It was imperative that we got a reasonably early start before the winds picked up and made it too risky to paddle the rising sea swells. On average we paddled about ten kilometres a day. Other than the wind, the weather was fine, and we enjoyed roaming around our private beach sites, going for a dip or just hanging out.
Our second camp was located at the site of an abandoned Manganese mine. Pulling up to shore, the crumbling buildings were perched above us and set back from the water a short distance. We followed a trail uphill to the mine, and the views up and down the coastline were stunning from this vantage point. We were able to walk around the various buildings, trying to imagine how these men were able to work, especially in the extreme heat of summer. After the hike Gary and I went snorkelling and I saw a stingray and it reminded me of Ramon’s warning to us about avoiding them. More to come on this subject later.
The following four days were calm and much warmer, climbing to the mid-twenties ℃. The experience of kayaking shifted as well, with the smooth seas we could observe the pods of dolphins travelling up and down the coastline. They were generally indifferent about our presence, even when only metres away, but there always seemed to be a couple of showoffs in each pod. They would put on a display that could rival any marine park!
The tame seas allowed us to fish, and Ramon is a commercial fisherman, so he had the perfect gear with him. In total we caught and ate two groupers and two barracudas over the next few days. Keep in mind we were close to shore, so these were not big fish, maybe a couple of kilos each. Ramon used them to make ceviche and fish tacos. What a delicious treat, there is no comparison to freshly caught fish.
On the topic of food, it should be noted that Ramon provided all the food for our trip, and the preparation too. To help, we pitched in for cleanup and other tasks around camp. Each kayak, five singles and a tandem carried a portion of the rations. Gary and I were in the tandem, with the largest hatch, so we had mesh bags full of fruits and vegetables. Needless to say, we ate well. Ramon whipped up traditional Mexican dishes such as burritos, tostados, tacos, guacamole, as well as oodles of cut up fruit and green salads. For breakfasts he’d make Mexican style scrambled eggs and bacon or perhaps pancakes or a simple oatmeal. At the put-in we were each handed a small drybag of a variety of snack foods to enjoy during stops along the way, and that was much appreciated.
At our next camp Ramon guided us on a hike in the desert. We followed a dry riverbed for much of our walk which made it easier to avoid contact with the prickly cacti. The Baja is Ramon’s backyard, so he has a wealth of knowledge to share about the history of the area, its plant life, and the animals on land or sea. I found the desert hike particularly fascinating since the variety of plants were so foreign to us. Ramon explained how adaptations were made by different species in order to survive the Baja’s harsh environment. Also, he pointed out the plants that can be used for medicinal purposes.
On day five we picked up our freshwater re-supply. It was a bit comical to be in the middle of nowhere, and suddenly a Subaru Outback pulled up out of the desert. Gregory, a friend of Ramon’s, kindly supplied us with water and we all enjoyed a brief time socialising together. We packed up our kayaks and off we went to our next camp which happened to be in a pristine, white sandy cove. Little did we know that the natural beauty of our camp would be overshadowed by an unfortunate incident.
Sandra and I decided to go snorkelling, and as we walked into the water I thought again about Ramon’s warning regarding stingrays lurking in the sand. Then the unthinkable happened, a stingray barb gashed Sandra’s foot. In an instant, our tight knit group jumped into action and provided all the care and support we could. Dave, John and Mike stayed by Sandra’s side while Gary and I helped boil water and provided assistance when needed. Ramon had experience with stingray encounters, having had several himself. He used natural remedies by soaking her foot in the torn leaves of the White Sage plant or Roma Parda as it is locally known, as it provides traditional pain relief. Happily, a few hours later Sandra would feel much better, and she was able to cope with the discomfort. It certainly shook us up and we were thankful that Ramon had the expertise to treat the wound and the pain.
The next morning, we left what we now informally called ‘Stingray Bay’ and headed for our next camp at San Sebastian Cove. Sandra joined me in the tandem as her foot was too sore to work the rudder pedals of a solo Kayak
It was another spectacular day for wildlife sightings. The Sea of Cortez is home to a wide array of birds, and from our camp or when paddling we always spotted birds in the air or perched on rocky outcrops on the coastline. Most seen were pelicans and gulls, but we also saw herons, cormorants, ospreys, frigatebirds, turkey vultures and most notably the unusual and aptly named blue-footed booby. I was able to get close enough to see those blue feet. Apparently, their diet of fish and squid is what gives them that blue hue and the bluer their feet the healthier they are.
Continuing our way south along the coast we were beginning to see more signs of human activity. We saw a small upscale vacation community nestled in a protected bay. Further along we stopped at a very small fishing village called San Nicolas. Originally, we were going to visit and move on, but the winds picked up, so the decision was made to camp on the village’s beach for our last night. As usual, Ramon knows everyone, and he took us to see a local farm. The owners, an elderly couple, Francisco and Francesca graciously allowed us to wander around their property and take in their tropical fruit trees, herbs, glorious flowering shrubs and of course the farm animals. Another villager, Pancho, invited our group to come and sit on his porch. The village homes were very rustic from the exterior, often incorporating found items from the sea into their decor. Many displayed shells, rocks, and even fish skeletons.
Citlalic Torres, Ramon’s wife, arrived at San Nicolas that afternoon and she brought fresh shrimp for tacos, homemade guacamole, and a cooler full of cold drinks. That evening we cleaned out the kayaks in preparation for our shuttle back to Loreto. One quirky thing about this tiny fishing village were the wild horses. They grazed on the only greenery they could find, the seaweed growing in the brackish waters of a small pond. Just like the plants in the Baja, animals have adapted as well.
The morning of the shuttle, we packed up our gear one last time. Pancho had kindly invited us back to enjoy our breakfast and last trip meal on his porch. He let Cali use his kitchen to prepare a buffet of Mexican eggs, and warm tortillas. Shortly after, we said our goodbyes and prepared for the hour-long drive on a meandering dirt road to the highway. The undisturbed landscape featured cacti and various shrubs, all spaced out as if someone had intentionally planted them. It was an unusual but impressive forest. Also, we could clearly see where repairs were made to the road after the rainy season deluge of water. No doubt there are times when San Nicolas is only accessible by water, and I have a feeling the villagers don’t mind at all.
I’ve had several months to reflect on our Baja adventure. After a trip I always ask myself the question, would I go back? In this case I most certainly would. The Baja offers so much to its visitors, a sea teeming with marine life, the remoteness of a desert setting, and its kind and humble people.
Check out the WCA YouTube channel for posted videos about this trip.