Sappy Moments in Cruising

OK; it’s either "sappy," or "cheesy," or possibly "trite," "corny," or "unimaginative."  But here’s another post where I describe sights we’ve seen that are so tacky with the telling, you’d think you were reading a cruising magazine or something.  This is the kind of stuff boating fantasies are made of.

We begin with a classic photo GB took of frigate mom and new babe on Isla Isabela.  Wouldn’t you just love to see this adorable little fuzzball yourself???  You could – Isla Isabela about as far from Mazatlan as Montague Harbour is from Seattle.  Come see.

The experiences are wonderful Out Here.  Brilliant green meteorite flashes on night passages.  The aroma of flowers when approaching the Mexican mainland.  A seagull hitching a ride across open water on the back of a sea turtle.  The big fish in bright colors you see while snorkeling.  Pangueros fishing at dawn.  Hot pink sunsets.  White sand beaches and blue water.  We have encountered at least 5 species of whale since leaving Seattle – and if they’d just slow down and get closer to the boat I might  be able to positively identify them.  I’m willing to learn – but unless the whales and all these other animals start wearing T-shirts or holding up signs with their names on them, I’m not likely to know for sure what I’m looking at.  Look to the right here – this is the only whale I’ve found that’s held still enough for a picture:

We’ve been sailing north back to Mazatlan in light air at night, and watched a humpback whale breach three times near us by the light of a full moon.  Things can be that beautiful Out Here.

Every other cruiser you meet automatically has much in common with you, and friendships form fast.  And when things go wrong, cruisers circle the wagons and really do take care of one another.  It’s very different from the social dynamic in most US cities, and it’s fun to be a part of it all, antisocial as I am.

Then there are the black-and white manta rays that always lift my spirits when they burst out of the water and do cartwheels and backflips.  GB and I have taken to calling them "flying carpets."  I’ve given a lot of thought to the mantas because they live throughout the Pacifc from southern California to Peru – yet the only ones we’ve seen doing the acrobatics are along a roughly 50-mile stretch of southeast Baja coastline from Cabo San Lucas to Bahia de los Frailes.  I do not believe they jump out of the water to get rid of parasites or stun their prey (small fish, shrimps & plankton) because if either were the case I’d expect them to just jump and splash back down in a belly-flop instead of executing their complicated flipping maneuvers.  Also, the Baja mantas do these leaps day or night, calm weather or windy.  There is only one logical conclusion to all this behavior:

It’s a religious cult.

I figure, if humans can have their Quakers, their Shakers and their Holy Rollers, it stands to reason that mantas have their Baja Backflippers.  Leaping out of the water and turning upside-down is their way of getting closer to their god.  And the more flips a manta can execute, the holier s/he is – which would explain why so many of them try so hard for a double-reverse flip:  they’re the True Believers.

These are the kinds of things you experience Out Here – so if you have the desire to travel by boat but still have some trepidation about taking that final voyage out from your home port into the unknown, don’t fret.  Come on down this way – the water’s fine.

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