Lost in the Sea of Cortez

CHASING DOWN THE MUSE

I ease my kayak into the still blue waters of the Sea of Cortez.

It’s a quiet morning, the air is still and the seabirds’

vocalizations can be heard from the nearby island rookeries. Stephen

adjusts his paddle stroke as we slide into a comfortable rhythm, and

far off shore, our friends Lynn and James drift around the first of

three islands.

Twin desert cardon -- distant relatives of the American saguaro

and reaching up to 60 feet -- tower over the landscape. I spot the

first osprey, perched on the highest cactus spire, his sleek dark and

white feathers, smallish head and sharp hooked beak silhouetted in

the early light. He watches Lynn and James as their kayaks drift near

and then shifts to us as we paddle closer.

On top of the rocky shores, I spot two nests -- large collections

of sticks, grasses and weeds that are often used for decades. These

nests are attended by male and female osprey and are home for two or

three white to pink cinnamon-colored eggs with dark brown blotches

and an incubation period of approximately 32 days.

As the second island comes into view, I am thrilled to see four

more osprey atop two more nests. I’ve been traveling to this remote

section of Baja for 25 years, and this is the first year I’ve seen

more than two pair of the handsome raptors.

DDT (dichlorodiphenyl- trichloroethane) poisoning had pushed the

osprey to the brink of extinction before 1972. Extremely toxic to

aquatic invertebrates and fish, the pesticide affected courtship

behavior, delayed pairing and egg laying, decreased egg weight, and

most devastatingly, thinned eggshells. Birds would crush their own

eggs before they could hatch. An international ban on the potent

pesticide has seen a slow re-speciation of several affected birds.

The osprey is a large, powerful raptor, a wonder in flight and

hunting. Anatomically, it resembles the eagle, but its narrow wings,

when outspread, are markedly angled, and the structure of its feet

and claws is so peculiar that it has been placed in a separate

subfamily, the Pandioninae, of which it is the sole representative.

Adult birds have a dark back and white forehead, cheeks, neck,

breast and belly. A distinctive stripe extends from the base of the

beak and across the eye to the back. The head and upper part of the

breast are streaked brownish black, as is the underside of the wings

and tail. As is the case with most raptors, the female is larger than

the male, averaging 24 1/2 inches in length, with a wingspan of up to

72 inches.

The bird has a small voice, a whistling “chook, chook, chook”

sound. The cry of the male, when frightened near the nest, is a

shrill and frantic “cheric, cheric,” whereas the females give out a

rapid “pew, pew, pew” sound.

As we paddle the toward the largest of the rookery islands, I can

hear the calls of male and female, and as we edge closer, the

increasing “screams” of several young chicks. Male and female appear

to alternate hunting, returning with fish that they dry on top of the

cardon and then fly to the nest to feed the young.

Osprey patrol large expanses of territorial waters, hovering 30 to

100 above the surface until it spots a fish. The huge bird then

plunges from the sky with its wings half closed and claws stretched

forward and dives under the surface of the water, usually reappearing

a few seconds later with a fish firmly clutched in its claws. The

osprey carries its catch headfirst in flight, using both feet to hold

all but the smallest fish.

We drift with the tidal currents mesmerized by the birds and

filled with reverie for the beauty that surrounds us. Clear skies,

blue seas and a plethora of sea birds dot the horizon. Fish leap and

tumble on the water’s surface.

It seems that, in leaving our carefully crafted “selves” at home,

we are able in the wilderness to more clearly access and define our

true selves and greater possibilities. These Baja days, filled with

laughter, communal meals and the warmth of deepened friendships, mark

a perfect way to begin the new year and a proper measure of the days

to come.

* CATHARINE COOPER is a local designer who thrives off beaten

trails. She can be reached at cooper@cooperdesign.net or (949)

497-5081.