Saturday, February 7, 2015

Traveler or Tourist

“One can only really travel if one lets oneself go and takes what every place brings without trying to turn it into a healthy private pattern of one’s own and I suppose that is the difference between travel and tourism.” —Freya Stark, 1959

Sue read this quote to Curtis on February 4 while we sat in the cockpit at anchor in Bahía San Pedro. “Are we tourists, then,” asked Sue, “because we bring our own home with us and fill it with devices, food, and other items that we like?”

Curtis made a face as he thought about it. Sue tried to answer her own question, “I suppose we are tourists in that sense. But we come out here to study the natural world, and nature has no cultural divides, no break at borders. Maybe traveler versus tourist is a false distinction, because it’s not just about us and our experiences.”

“There are many travelers in the natural world,” suggested Curtis. “We travel so we can cross paths with them.”

A mournful call rang out from the shadowed side of the bay. Sue looked around, puzzled by the sound. “Loon!” said Curtis. “A traveler from up north.” And he started a bird list for the anchorage:

Birding at Bahía San Pedro

Common Loon
Brown Pelican
Blue-footed Booby
Great Blue Heron
Osprey
California Gull
Heermann’s Gull
Yellow-footed Gull
Canyon Wren
Violet-green Swallow
Northern Mockingbird
Curve-billed Thrasher


Sunday, February 1, 2015

Green on Blue: Cilantro's Second Inaugural Splash-down

"Don't almost sink the boat again this time.” –Stanley Sharman

Cilantro re-entered the Sea of Cortez (Gulf of California) for the second time in December 2014. Curtis had finished repairing the damage that occurred in summer 2013 when our PSS shaft seal blew apart and we almost sank near Isla Tiburon, about 90 miles northwest of San Carlos. The repair list wasn't particularly long, but neither was it simple, and work schedules and other obligations of landbound life conspired to keep us on the hard until now.

Rather than launching and departing immediately for a distant anchorage (as we did last time), we rented a slip at Marina San Carlos. That allowed us to finish rigging sails and load food, fuel, and water without hauling it all up a 10-foot ladder in the work yard at Marina Seca. It also means we can come and go without moving Cilantro in and out of dry storage each time. Sue is very glad we took this route - more humane, she says! - and Curtis admits it is much easier and more fun. It is great to be actually "on the water" while finishing our task list.

Marina San Carlos

We motored out of Marina San Carlos on December 10 and headed NW along the coast to Bahia San Pedro, a kidney-shaped (the poor kidney - trotted out only for shape comparisons) bay. This time of the year, the prevailing winds are N or NW, so we anchored at the north end of the bay to avoid swells and chop coming off the sea. The afternoon wind still whistled at us over a low point of land, but the water itself was placid. Along the beach were several groups of panga fishermen who camped and slept during the day and fished at night. 
Bahia San Pedro at left, smaller unnamed inlet at right

We planned to spend two nights here so that we could do more exploring than we had in our previous visit. Curtis was hoping to see interesting birds and canyons, and Sue was itching to find plants to collect or photograph. Sue has spent much of the past four years teaching herself botany and has gotten involved with several flora and biodiversity projects, including the Madrean Archipelago Biodiversity Assessment (MABA), which you can read more about at www.madrean.org. One of Sue's current projects is as a contributor to the in-progress Flora of the Guaymas Region, authored by Dr. Richard S. Felger, who has been studying the botany of northwest Mexico for over half a century. Sue has been photo-documenting plants and collecting voucher specimens as well as copyediting Richard's manuscripts. You can check out Sue’s Arizona and Sonora plant photos at https://www.flickr.com/photos/suecarnahan/sets.

From our spot in the bay, we spied a canyon to the SE that looked narrow and green, which in a desert climate means more shade and more moisture, which = more birds and more plants. Inflating the dinghy by foot-pump took a few long minutes, but eventually it firmed up and we rowed to the beach, tied the painter to the largest nearby rock it would reach, hoped it was sufficiently above the high tide line, and set off. We made a few bad choices along the way that led us through thorny thickets of scrub, but eventually we were climbing a rising series of rocky pools. 


View of Bahia San Pedro from canyon

Curtis found wintering blue-gray gnatcatchers and green-tailed towhees and a single black-throated gray warbler. Sue photographed her first Sonoran hairstreak butterfly, a Mexican species that occurs within 60 miles of the border but only strays into Arizona every 25–50 years. There were wild figs and palms, organ pipe cactus, and golden agaves. Invasive giant cane, Arundo donax, was growing in one of the larger canyon pools as well as at the edge of a salt pan near the beach. This Asian / African grass, which can grow nearly 4 inches a day (!) and reach 25 feet in height, was introduced to California in the 1820s for roofing material and erosion control; it is difficult to eradicate from wetlands and riparian areas. 

Ficus palmeri (wild fig)

Sonoran hairstreak butterfly (Hypostrymon critola)

Arundo donax (giant cane) at Bahia San Pedro

Making our way back along the beach, we met up with two cruisers from Plum, an Orion 27 now anchored in the bay along with Cilantro. It turned out that Jim, a retired forester from New Mexico, was making his own photo book of Sonoran trees, so later that afternoon we dinghied over to Plum and Sue talked plants with a fellow plant nut.

Toward dusk, the fishermen on the beach prepared their pangas (small outboards) and nets for the night’s activities, which became for us an unexpected fireworks show. There was such strong bioluminescence in the bay that any disturbance of the water - including peeing overboard! - brought about a wild display of flashes and sparkles. At one point, a passing panga with a white hull and no onboard lights was completely lit from below by a brilliant green glow. It was like a fiber optics light show...albeit one put on by tiny marine creatures.

Over the past 18 months, on multiple trips down from Arizona to work on the boat, we've spent many extra hours birding and botanizing around San Carlos. As we begin cruising again after a long hiatus, it is clear to both of us that what attracts us to this desert-marine environment is its natural history. We always travel with references books for birds, reptiles, butterflies, and plants, but Cilantro's tiny bookcase also holds field guides to reef fish, marine mammals, and tidepool creatures. We even have a bilingual guide to Common Seaweeds of the Gulf of California. This is what we love in the world, and it organizes how and where we travel.

In the pre-dawn hours at Bahia San Pedro, Curtis heard two great-horned owls duetting from the rocky cliffs overlooking the Gulf. These owls begin breeding in winter months, even up north, so we surmised this was a courting pair. Happy hooting!

Dawn in Bahia San Pedro