You’ve read about gray whales; you’ve seen pictures in books. But until you literally come face-to-face with a 40-ton momma grey whale alongside her 5,000-pound calf, you can’t comprehend the immensity of the animal.
Momma swam alongside us for a bit, rotating her body to get a better view, staring at us with one eye. Then she turned toward us and headed directly for our little 25-foot panga boat, and I had visions of Moby Dick. At the last second, the mother and calf swam under us and came up on the other side, with the mother swimming parallel at a slight distance while the young calf circled as if working up the courage to come alongside, which she finally did. The calf came to be petted and have her nose rubbed, and then rolled over so she could be chucked under her chin. This went on for 30 minutes until, with some unknown signal, her mother summoned the calf back, indicating the play date was over and it was time to go home. Then they swam away.
We came to the lagoon because we were curious about the whales, but the surprise was that they were equally as curious about us. After laying off for a bit, the whales initiated the physical contact. The babies wanted to play and the mommas, for whatever their reason, wanted the calves to meet us. You can sense they are both very social and also intelligent and curious.
We were fortunate. We had arrived here at Antonio’s Ecotourism Cos — a decades-old family-run business at the lagoon (which is really an extensive, 20-mile-long inland sea) — close to the end of the whale-watching season. Most of the 320 or so mothers and calves had already left, the males had also gone, and those that were left were about ready to make the journey north to Arctic waters. It was sort of their last opportunity to play before the perilous journey north, where I’m told only about half of the calves will survive, many lost to Orcas laying in wait like a U-boat wolf pack, some to illness and a few to accidents.
Nature is hard and often cruel by our standards, but gray whales are survivors, having twice before been almost hunted into extinction, but saved by their brains, which are apparent. (Probably also by Thomas A. Edison, who serendipitously discovered the incandescent bulb and collapsed the world market for whale oil lamps.)
Before you book your reservation, there is a caveat: Ecotourism is not for everyone. Accommodations are basic, cabins are plain, 12-foot by 12-foot wooden huts, looking sort of like a mining camp cabin where ladies of questionable virtue peddled their wares at outrageous prices to lady-starved, gold-rich miners.
And, to put you in touch with how your prior kin may have lived the conveniences, some of you are outside. Strangely, the lack of amenities makes the experience feel more genuine and in toto, it’s something you remember forever. Four-star hotels all become alike after a while, but this is something different.
Getting to mid-Baja California Sur, where San Ignacio is located on the Pacific Ocean, is no easy journey. It takes about three days by car, but it’s safe and prices are very reasonable by our standards. Roads are good, and you can stop along the way in the Guadalupe Valley, which looks like Napa and turns out has some wonderful wines. Accommodations are plentiful and reasonable throughout Baja.
Baja California is part of the country of Mexico, but kind of a stepchild, which seems to be fine with most citizens of Baja. It first got popular with Americans when President Dwight Eisenhower — an avid fisherman — started going there.
Mexico is very serious about protecting the whales and also ecotourism. Five companies operate in San Ignacio Lagoon, and only six boats are allowed out at a time for only 90 minutes with the whales. There is no cheating because they have timekeepers ashore. They call the sheriff who logs every boat in and out, and gives you a 10 minute warning when your time is about up.
If you’re adventurous, give it a try.
Some gray whale facts:
– They can live to be 60 years old.
– Adults generally are about 45 feet long and weigh 35 tons, equivalent to about 10 elephants.
– They are pregnant for 13 months and they breastfeed for about seven months.
– Every year, they migrate about 10,000 miles from the Arctic to Baja and back.