Mexico Islands of Gulf of California

“On another day, after lunch while others hiked, 6 of us took two pongas to a cove for snorkeling among the sea lions, who darted past us at arm's length with their ever-curious wide eyes open underwater to examine us. With the Gulf at 58 degrees F, the sea lions' curiosity outlasted ours.”

“Through that evening and the following day, we snorkeled, kayaked and puttered on the beach, living the way Robinson Crusoe would have if he’d had the foresight to bring a cook, captain and naturalist guide. Our tents had been pitched on Candelero Bay well before our arrival on Espíritu Santo. Each was about 10 feet square with one or two cots. We did have to beware of jejenes — a.k.a. sand fleas — and now and then a faint chorus of pop music would seep from a yacht on the bay. But we had better things to think about: The dawdling heron at the north end of our beach. The stony islet that stood in the bay, as tall and intricate as a Gothic church. We snacked. We cracked beers. We hiked along the edge of the estuary, through the cactuses and red volcanic boulders above the bay, until we passed a tall, blank wall and came to a buzzing nest of wasps, face high and uninterested in us.”

“When the last night rolled around and I laid on the beach looking at the incredible array of stars, I spent one particularly striking shooting star’s wish on hoping we could somehow stay just a bit longer. The following day my wish was granted as a fierce wind picked up and forced us to postpone our departure by 24 hours. This of course delighted me but was met with some amount of anxiety about our food stock which we had estimate for three fewer people and a whole day less.”