The Aquarium of the World
World-renowned French oceanographer and documentarian Jacques Cousteau famously called Mexico’s Sea of Cortez “The Aquarium of the World.” Nearly a thousand fish species live below the water’s surface I paddled across. We had seen dolphins, and many years ago, I snorkeled with sea lions at Isla Carmen off Loreto’s coast. Sitting on Honda Beach on Danzante Island after a lunch of guacamole tostadas and thinking about all that, I decided to go snorkeling.
Fins on my feet, snorkel and mask on my face, I entered the sea to see the myriad life below its surface. Cornetfish, parrotfish, pufferfish, and crown-of-thorns starfish lived their lives. A large ray glided below me. Fish in colors found across a painter’s palette went about their daily routines in their home. The water was balmy, and cares did not exist.
Back on land, afternoon slid into evening, softly landing at nighttime. I woke in the dark and peeked outside my tent, taking a quick view of the sky. Oh my. Stars, the stars, and yes, indeed, there was the Milky Way arcing across the sky.
Paddling to a Hike
Sunrise was beautiful, yellows and oranges slowly giving way to pale whites and blue. I was ready for a day of activity, feeling a bit restless. Coffee in the veins and beans, eggs, and avocado in the belly, we set out from the beach going south. Down around the point we went, our plan to take out at El Arroyo camp and hike up to the ridgetop for a 360-degree view.
What a view it was! From up top, I could see Cousteau’s aquarium laid out in front of me. Across the way was the formidable Sierra de la Giganta. Everywhere my eyes could see was protected area. I reveled in knowing the watershed vision was alive.
We snapped photos and guessed that some distant sightlines offered a long view of Mobula rays taking flight — there, and then, pointing with fingers, once again over there.
More Snorkeling in the Aquarium
Back at camp, lunch was a simple combination of tuna salad and pineapple slices. Back in the boats, we paddled north around a point to snorkel El Acuario — The Aquarium.
The highlight for me was seeing sunlight hit and reflect off the fishes’ bodies, prisms of light flickering to and fro, with me having nowhere else to go.
Languidly I went, a flutter of a fin here, a deep breath through the snorkel there. Meditation is what it was. Purposeful movement through a watery world where my eyes taught me to appreciate the work of Mexico to protect the precious resources of the Sea of Cortez, a vision beyond the here and now. I was a visitor passing through their homeland.
Waiting for a Window of Opportunity
The next morning arrived with some bittersweetness. The trip was coming to a close. We packed up camp, putting it all back into the kayaks. Then we waited. And waited some more.
The guides were literally reading the water, timing the window for paddling back south around the point and then across the open water to the takeout spot. Local knowledge acquired through decades of experience, along with radio check-ins with other guides around the area, guided the situation we were in. What window? We waited for the winds to die down a bit and make for an easier crossing.
The window came, and off we went. We huddled together before making the crossing. Out on the open water, the conditions were quite fine, though hot. We could see where we needed to go. The crossing was uneventful, meaning the winds didn’t kick up at all.
On the beach, the guide company crew was waiting for us. We loaded everything into the vans. Kayaks went up on the roofs. Under a pop-up tent, we ate fresh ceviche tostadas and drank beer. Then, out of nowhere, the winds said hello and nearly blew over the tent.
I looked at one of the guides and smiled. He did, too, but probably with a bit of relief mixed into his smile.
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