Winter Paddling: Ahhhh Baja!

October-November 2000

This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.

by Laura Rance

There's a whale!"The shout from our Mexican guide Antonio set off an excited scramble for binoculars as people strained for a glimpse of the Blue whale cavorting through the whitecaps rolling along the Sea of Cortez. The sight was fleeting, a brief moment in time that was impossible to capture on film. But framed as it was against the dramatic Sierra de la Giganta mountains rising from the distant Baja Peninsula coastline, it left a lasting imprint on the mind.

The task of loading a small mountain of food, camping gear and personal effects into the kayaks seemed impossible

Seeing a Blue whale on the first afternoon of a six-day kayak tour of islands off the Baja was like an omen, a sign that this was indeed the right place to be and the right time to be in it.

Truth be told, I'd had my doubts on more than one occasion as we planned and prepared for this trip, my first foray into sea kayaking. Casual paddles down the placid La Salle River and the occasional lake crossing in Whiteshell Provincial Park hardly seemed enough preparation for a desert wilderness in a foreign country, saltwater swells and uncomfortably distant shores.

The narrow Baja California Peninsula that juts 1,300 kilometres south from the California coastline is a rugged land of desert extremes lined by the Sea of Cortez on one side and the Pacific Ocean on the other. Although the blue-green waters of the inland sea are the friendlier of the two, they have a history of showing no mercy to the foolish or ignorant.

As it turned out, I was one of the more experienced of the thirteen paddlers who set off in early March accompanied by three guides.

When trip leader, Martha Garfield, surveyed the group during a pool-side briefing at Villas de Loreto the evening before, we revealed a mixed bunch of skills. The assembled doctors, stockbrokers, and assorted executive-types ranged from those who had never been in a kayak before to a kayaking instructor.

There was just one primary safety rule to be followed: if conditions weren't right - too much wind, too much swell -we'd stay ashore. Martha, a seasoned kayaker with experience guiding on both US coasts and in Mexico, made that point exceedingly clear as she outlined the agenda for the next few days.

She could guarantee we'd be paddling, snorkeling, camping on beaches and eating deliciously prepared meals. But she could not guarantee where we would be on which night. Schedules are for the office. Out here, plans can change with the wind.

The Sierra de la Giganta mountains of the Baja peninsula provide dramatic background

There are a dozen or so kayak-tour companies operating out of Loreto, a pretty coastal city of about 8,000. Different companies offer different levels of service ranging from guiding services and kayaks only (participants bring their own food and camping gear) to full-service, complete with a motorized panga (boat) to carry much of the gear and tow tuckered-out paddlers.

As we arrived at the launch site the first morning, the task of loading the small mountain of food, camping gear and personal effects into the two-person kayaks seemed an impossible dream. But within an hour, the boats were loaded and Martha was briefing the group on paddling technique and safety protocol. There was time for one last dab of sun block before climbing in and attaching our spray skirts in preparation for the open sea. The four-mile crossing in modest two-foot swells was completed within an hour and a half. We arrived at our first beach campsite on Isla Danzante just in time for a lunch of avocado and cheese sandwiches, fresh vegetables, fruit and cookies.

Then it was time to don the wetsuits and go snorkeling-another first for me.

Overall, the six-day menu was a treat, and not just because it was cooked by someone else. Dishes such as Fish Veracruz, Spicy chicken, Chile Rellenos, Mexican lasagna, Quesadillas, Burritos along with a huge selection of fresh salads, fruit and vegetables - even a cocktail hour featuring Margeuritas made with freshly squeezed limes - were a welcome surprise for campers accustomed to the freeze-dried fare that often accompanies wilderness excursions.

Unlike tours in the Pacific Northwest wilderness where bears and other unwelcome wildlife visitors can be attracted by cooking odors, the most likely visitor to wander into these camps are hermit crabs, scurrying about their business. On the mainland, the occasional coyote sniffs around. But the wildlife on these islands is mostly sea creatures and multitudes of birds who nest and fish along these rocky shores. We did however discover one solitary rattlesnake on our fifth day, curled up under a bush, snoozing.

As the week progressed, the days blurred into a soul-soothing cycle of land and sea. Each beach we visited seemed memorable in its own right, some because of the delicious feel of soft white sand beneath our toes, others because of the long walks into the sunset, listening to the scampering of bashful red and purple Sally Lightfoot crabs scuttling into the crevices. Or rising with the sun and watching as the soft pastel shades of rose and blue on the mountainous horizon sharpened into the coppery shades of volcanic rock by daylight. And hours spent soaking up the sun under a cloudless sky while shooting the breeze with like-minded companions.

The people who first inhabited the mainland Peninsula lived a similar lifestyle to today's adventure kayakers- nomadic and heavily dependent on the sea.

But as civilization encroached, the landscape and its local inhabitants suffered. Over the centuries, marauding humans have taken just about everything out of here but the view.

Then it became endangered too by uncontrolled and poorly planned development.

The vast stores of sea shells which once lined the beaches was being decimated, picked over and replaced by garbage after years of unregulated human use. The delicate, succulent vegetation which once lined the beaches was facing the same fate, killed by repeated trampling under human feet.

In the early 1990s, a group of local volunteers began to lobby the Mexican government to declare the region a national marine park. It was a tough battle with an administration which was in the process of parceling off some of the islands to private investors with questionable motives. But they succeeded.

In 1996, the Marina Park Bahia de Loreto was formed. Efforts have continued, with tour operators and other users of the region, to respect the natural environment by leaving what shells remain on the beaches intact (similar to not picking the flowers in our national parks) and to practice good stewardship. For the most part, tour operators have co-operated, knowing their future is at stake as well. They voluntarily reserve beach campsites, so tour groups generally only cross paths at a distance. They also spend a lot of time briefing their guests on the merits of impact-free camping. Because when all is said and done, this raw, desolate land littered with cacti and surrounded by ocean waters in varying shades of blue and green is truly a place of awe-inspiring beauty. And such places, where the body can reunite with the soul under a wilderness blanket, are becoming fewer and farther between.

IF YOU GO:

Loreto is a long, two-day drive from the US-Mexican border through isolated regions on mountain highways. It's easier to fly. Aero California provides daily jet service from Los Angeles. The flight, both going and returning, is routinely late and often overbooked, so check in at least two hours before flight time. And be careful not to schedule your connections too tightly.

Our trip was with Sea Kayak Adventures of Idaho, run by Terry Prichard and Nancy Mertz, who like many of the other operators, provide ground transportation and local hotel accommodation as part of their package tour. We overnighted in Loreto before the trip and when we returned.

Villas de Loreto is a comfortable beachfront, bed-and-breakfast style resort on the outskirts of Loreto featuring non-smoking accommodation and a continental breakfast in the courtyard each morning. Rates are about $80 US per night.

It's an easy 15-minute walk uptown to the shops and a good selection of restaurants (bikes are available at Villas). Carmen's on the waterfront is a popular seafood haunt. US dollars are readily accepted in most establishments.

Laura Rance is a journalist based in Winnipeg, Manitoba. Her husband, Phil Hossack, who took the photos in this article, is a photojournalist with the Winnipeg Free Press. ©