Mike in the Wild

My San Diego-destined ship sailed north off the coast of the Baja California Peninsula, just a short distance past Cabo San Lucas.  The arid, mountainous coastline was visible but a far distance to the east on yet another clear and sunny day: standard weather during my week-long Christmas cruise.  We were still in booby territory, which we wouldn't leave until sometime overnight when we had passed halfway up the peninsula.  As a result, my cruise's sea day was not going to be limited to books, meals, and naps; the sport of action bird photography was on the agenda.  Boobies are common seabirds in tropical regions around the world.  The masked and brown varieties are especially easy to spot on Pacific Ocean cruises off the west coast of Mexico and into the Sea of Cortez, where another species, the blue-footed, is resident.  On my recent cruise, I mostly observed masked boobies.  Sailing north that morning, I was lucky to observe a group (technically known as a hatch, trap, or

On yet another winter cruise to Cabo San Lucas and Puerto Vallarta, I was greeted with numerous whale sightings.  From Thanksgiving until early spring, the coastal waters are home to humpback whales that leave Arctic environments for warmer climates south to birth their calves and mate.  (Pleasant weather, amour: whales and humans are not so different in their pursuits.) Shortly before reaching Cabo's scenic bay and passing The Arch near the tip of the Baja California peninsula, several whales appeared in our ship's wake.  Then, right after anchoring and again off the ship's stern, at least one whale's back rose above the ocean's surface.  While I missed a live shot, I captured an image of the cetacean's footprint, a circular ring at the sea's surface left by the underwater vortex created by the powerful motion of tail flukes as the creature dives.  Shortly after, either that whale or another reappeared while spouting a misty breath, this time captured on ca

After almost ten months, I returned to Puerto Vallarta.  Again venturing south of the city and its crowded resorts, I preferred to explore the wild and verdant coastline.  And again, I plunged into Banderas Bay, near Majahuitas, to witness the underwater life with my mask, snorkel, and fins.   However last February, the sea was green and choppy, with terrible visibility.  Algae clouded my views of the king angelfish while my sightings of puffers and starfish were mostly thanks to my guide's grabbing the creatures and holding them up to my mask.   I'm happy to say that on my recent December visit the water was much clearer.  Maybe it was due to the season, or perhaps it was the skipper's decision to drop anchor at a slightly different location, at a cove a mile or so further down the coast from Majahuitas's beach.  Whatever the reason for the improvement in conditions, I was thankful. The stop was earlier in the morning than last time; the sun hadn't even risen over

On my first trip to Yelapa, last February, I was enchanted by giant, white butterflies that flitted through the jungle, never stopping long enough for me to capture a photograph.  I wasn't disappointed as there were so many other things to shoot in that remote, picturesque village that hugs the coast of Mexico south of Puerto Vallarta.  Most exciting were two brand-new bird species for me: the yellow-fronted parakeet and the golden-cheeked woodpecker.   However, on my recent return to Yelapa, right after Christmas, I didn't encounter a single noteworthy bird.  So instead, I focused my lens on the exotic butterflies, which seemed to have multiplied in numbers exponentially from my last trip.  Alas, this time, those enormous white ones were nowhere to be seen.  Pink cattleheart in Yelapa. Juno longwing, or juno silverspot, in Yelapa. Malachite in Yelapa. Cloudless sulphurs in Yelapa. Many-banded daggerwing near Yelapa.

I didn't expect to be very busy when I discovered my year-end holiday cruise was stopping in Mazatlán on Christmas Day.  While the cruise line was selling excursions for the day - a city tour, a trip to villages in the nearby Mountains, etc. - I remained incredulous that the tour guides and bus drivers would actually want to spend their Navidad working. Well it turned out that while much of this Mexican port city's population was certainly at home celebrating the holiday, for many of the people it was just another day to wait tables, sell crafts, and drive tourists to the beach.   Nonetheless, I decided to have a very quiet day with a leisurely breakfast on the ship followed by a morning stroll through the oldest part of town.   While so much of the United States was experiencing dangerously cold temperatures and blinding snowstorms, Mazatlán was unbelievably pleasant with clear skies and temperatures in the 70's.  I couldn't give myself a more wonderful Christmas pres

Medano Beach seemed like the last spot in Cabo San Lucas to try snorkeling, but I found myself doing it anyway.  The beach is busy owing to its proximity to the resort town's crowded port and to the scenic tip of Baja California in clear view across the bay.  The long, sandy stretch of coastline is filled with resorts hosting winter visitors trading blowing snow drifts for calm, lapping waves.  Jet skis, water taxis, and parasailers compete with swimmers in the azure waters.  But snorkelers?  I suspected there'd be very few of us. But there I was, having trekked over half an hour from my cruise ship's tender boat pier, passing hundreds of smaller docks and slips with my brand-new snorkeling gear on my back.  To be fair, I was with my husband, and we wanted a scenic, relaxing day at the beach on a Christmas Eve off of our cruise ship.  It was only me that wanted to snorkel.  And having been to the area the previous month, and successfully snorkeled at nearby Pelican Rock wit