November 1, 2018 - First Day of the Dead

Morning as sunlight was lighting our campsite.

Behind our campsite as the sun began to play across the hills.

In Baja, Miguel tells us, the Day of the Dead is a relatively low-key family affair, where shrines are built to remember the dead, and families eat together. We saw families gathering on the beach near us, arriving on boats that cost far, far more than my house (and car, and all my possessions, really).

In the morning, the waves beyond our protected bay were high, and from the North. Plan A, to karak North and swim with sea lions, was quickly scrapped. We watched the boobies and pelicans fishing for a while before sitting down to a breakfast of pancakes, latkes, and fresh fruit with yogurt. We are in no risk of starving.

We had a guided hike up the canyon North of us, learning more about the plants, land, and wildlife surrounding us. At the top of the canyon we walked was an ancient local fig tree, which had grown in the crack of a waterfall (Miguel says it runs only when it rains). This spot was a refuge from the heat, both today and when the indigenous people lived in Baja and used this island.

Cardon cactus, which Miguel says is endemic to Baja.

The top of the canyon with the fig tree.

There really wasn't much distance to the hike, but it was fun and informative, and allowed us to do something other than sitting around camp. I'm really missing my DLSRs, as there is so much to capture visually, and I'm not sure how the photos are turning out on this point and shoot camera with the broken screen. Also, the first battery ran out yesterday, so I've been conserving the power on the second battery, and taking almost no photos.

Looking out at the bay on the way back from the hike.

I often forget the amount of comfort I've developed on rocks and for stepping over heights. At the start of the walk we had to step over a gap in the rock, about 10 feet up. Tanya, from California, almost didn't continue as a result, until Miguel straddled the gap and helped to guide her across.

After some relaxing, lunch, and siesta, we spent the afternoon snorkelling a bit North of the channel we'd come out of yesterday. On the boat ride up, we were impressed by the swells, and glad that we hadn't tried to kayak it. In the water, we saw corals and many of the same variety of fish as elsewhere. Rounding a boulder to get to a deeper spot, it was a true glimpse into another world. The sea floor dropped off and out of sight, and all through the water column swam a giant school of the little yellow and grey fish with black stripes. Scattered in this school were larger black and orange fish, and others beyond recognition. The total numbers of fish were likely over 1000. I kept returning to this spot to be overcome by the sheer numbers. Laying there, observing them, I saw the, on an unknown cue, all would suddenly jet lower down with remarkable speed.