Kayaking in Sea of Cortez: Tortilla Flats – Day 7

Kayaking in Sea of Cortez, I woke up on the beach in Huerfanito at about 5:40 AM and saw there was a north breeze that looked like it was building up to be something stronger.  Several porpoises were working the area between me and Isla Huerfanito.  I went up on the cliffs to check out the wind and I could see that there were white caps offshore and there was a dark line along the horizon.  Some people that I had spoken with had told me that darkness at the horizon was a sure way you could know of the approach of strong north winds. It was already too rough to launch and thought I might be stuck here for a while, so I decided to do some backcountry birding and exploring.  While looking around on the beach, I found what I thought were enormous fins, about 1 feet long.  I couldn’t imagine what kind of fish they might be from.  (Later I found that these were not fins at all, but they were baleen from the jaws of whales.)

Suddenly the wind died down, so I packed my stuff and made a hasty entry into the water.  I’m beginning to learn that the tide and wind decide what I’ll do and when I’ll do it.  The porpoises that were feeding in the area followed close to me for the next two hours.  I passed by a huge dead California sealion floating about 1/2 mile from the shore.  After passing about 4 miles of rocky beaches, I finally found a beach where the tide was covering the rocks that were blocking my access to the beach and there was a small sandy area that allowed me to land.  This beach was part of a wide fluvial plain and I found there were some dunes and ponded areas behind the tall barrier beach that had been pushed up by storm surges.

Along the shore there was lots of algae growing on the bottom and I’m starting to see some of the floating algae that I remember seeing in Bahia de Los Angeles when I visited that area two years previously.  This type of algae lives on the bottom in shallow water and forms a little dome with air bubbles in a concave mass. Then it breaks off and floats around. Today I also saw my first jellyfish, about 6 inches in diameter with tentacles hanging down from the bell at the surface.

There are several islands offshore in this area that are called the Enchanted Islands.  The islands are in this order from north to south:  Miramar, Lobos, Encantata, and San Luis. I stopped on the shore not far from a place called Campo Los Delphines. I found this photo on the internet of one of the islands.  In the middle of the day it got very hot and there were a few times when the wind died completely.  I had to apply sunscreen several times and I had a good coat of zinc oxide on my nose. 

As I was dragging my kayak up the sandy beach, I heard someone calling from the cliff up above. Looking up I noticed there was a there was a house on the cliff and I saw some people who were waving at me and beckoning me to come up. Thinking I might get a cold drink, I saw a stairway nearby and climbed up to a rather nice house overlooking the beach. I was startled to hear them speaking Spanish because I thought they were Americans, Ernie, Doris, and Jose. Well, Ernie and Doris were Americans, anyway, as it turns out, but they spoke mostly in Spanish.  They were drinking beer and tequila. Ernie and Doris were from Hawaii; Jose was somehow related to the owner of the land making up this compo. Americans were not allowed to own the property along the shore.  Instead, they lease the property for 50 years from the farmers who own the property.

Jose was holding a bottle of tequila he sipped from occasionally and seemed to be totally plastered.  He offered me a drink a couple times, but I said, “I like tequila, but not straight.”  Ernie said that it’s not straight, and that it’s not even in the right bottle.  He said, “We buy a better brand and put it into this bottle, but this is good stuff.”  So, seeing that they were not going to accept my protests, I took a drink from the bottle.  Tequila is about 40% ethanol, so I figured that will sanitize just about anything.  

Jose offered me some more drinks but I said “no mas”.  This reminded me of the time I was in a small village in Pakistan where I drank water that I thought was less than potable.  Sitting around a very shallow well with six Pakistanis, they each drank from a metal water cup, passed it to the next person, and then finally to me.  I drank, not wanting to seem ungrateful in the blazing heat on the edge of the Thar Desert.  The tequila of Baja was definitely a safer drink.  

Ernie and Doris had made themselves a cozy home in this campo. They had been living here year-round for three years, the only full-time residents in the area. We sat and sipped on tequila while admiring the stunning view of the offshore islands from their home atop the cliff. As we talked, I couldn’t help but feel as though I was a character in Steinbeck’s “Tortilla Flats”, surrounded by the simplicity and charm of this isolated community. In a discussion that wavered between Spanish and English I surmised it was something to do with bees in the “battery room” of a nearby house. Apparently, the owner of that home had returned to the States to escape the summer heat and a large hive of bees had taken up residence in the battery room, making the batteries inoperable. After considerable discussion about how they would do the job, and with frequent interruptions to pour rounds of tequila, Ernie and Jose departed to clean out the bees. After they left Doris said that Ernie had developed an allergy to bee stings and despite his allergy he was determined to take on the task. I couldn’t shake the image of him being stung by hundreds of bees and going into an allergic shock. It was a risky decision, but Ernie seemed to possess a certain stubbornness that could not be reasoned with.

I made my way down to the beach, launched the kayak and I landed later on a rocky beach for a quick lunch.  I started a fire and began cooking my lunch but as I rested I noticed that the tide was going out very quickly and the rocky beach I was on was getting wider, revealing a huge barrier of large boulders.  It happened so fast that I didn’t have time to eat my lunch once it was through cooking.  Packing as quickly as I could, I pulled the kayak down the beach over the rocks. It was a struggle to get through the boulder field that was being uncovered by the dropping tide.  Stuffing the foil-wrapped potato into the kayak, I launched through the waves and once I was safely offshore I ate my lunch while sitting in the kayak. As I drifted along the shore I was amazed at the sight of the rocky boulder field that was uncovered so rapidly by the falling tide.

Next: Day 8 – Gonzaga Bay & Alfonsina’s

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