Bahia de Las Animas, Baja

Mangroves in Las Animas Bay

I am not a stranger to epic spring adventures, but this year was something different. Nine days; 130 people; one beach; eight yellowtail tuna. The most elaborate and exquisite camping trip I have ever embarked on took place on a quiet beach that was so remote it was faster to ride a boat to than it was to drive. So, let me tell you a story.

We arrived in the school parking lot at 3:45 in the morning to load the 21 student cars and make sure all equipment made it south. Two hours later we were across the border, hauling south in a massive caravan toward Bahia de Los Angeles on the Sea of Cortez. We watched anxiously as the climate changed from coastal scrub to coastal desert until we turned inland south of San Quitin. It was not long before we passed the junctions at El Rosario and the famous hotel at Cataviña and began the final dash toward the blue sea. Cardóns (a relative of the saguaro cactus) and cirio abounded as the biology changed for the final time before the sea. It was 4:30 in the evening when the train of cars rolled in to town and set up camp on the beach behind our instructor's beach house on the Sea of Cortez, thirteen hours and 490 miles later. The sun set on the first day of driving but soon rose on the dawn of a week of adventure. 

Getting introduced to the estuary

After a meager half-bagel-breakfast we set off again, on 41 miles of grueling dirt and sand. Four cars became stuck, one had a flat, but all eventually made it to the beachfront at Bahia de Las Animas. Camp was quickly set up, tarps and sleeping bags laid out on the sand, and all 90 students headed for the water for a dip in the Sea. Soon enough, the group was lead on a short hike to get a lay of the land and an introduction to local botany. The view was incredible, the weather perfect, and the day was growing dim with the sun. For many, including myself, the first order of business was to paddle (by kayak or paddleboard) out around the pair of islands 1/2 a mile offshore and to explore the neighboring mangrove estuary, one of the northernmost such estuaries in the world. It was at this time we realized what a unique and special place this was; seven very different and unique ecosystems coming together at one location. 

The beautiful beach we landed on.

The sun soon rose on Monday, the first day of study. My group went ten miles away by boat to study the diversity of a large reef and a nearby sea lion rookery. Lunch that day was spent on the most beautiful beach I have ever set foot on; it was like a scene from a movie.

The fishing was plentiful that day for all but myself. Two yellowtail, several dozen bass and a broomtail grouper were on the menu that night inside fish tacos. An evening of music followed along with a bonfire, a schedule that went unchanged for the rest of the week. Bedtime that evening came well after dark, perhaps 1:30 in the morning. Sleep was deep, albeit brief as the sun rose around 5:30 and woke all who slept. The Sea was glassy and many paddled onto the bay to watch the sun rise over the mountains. People trickled out of their sleeping bags and lined up for breakfast. The tide was exceptionally low, about a foot below mean sea level. The tidal differences in the Sea of Cortez is remarkable; in some parts it ranges around five meters but hovered around three at Las Animas. 

The morning was a venture to the fishing camp north of our beach, between two low hills is a ramshackle camp of plywood cabins which the inhabitants spend three to four months of the year there, as this particular group of four has done for the previous eight years. It is their life, and their small shrine to the Virgin of Guadalupe demonstrate what pious, simple lives they lead. 

Estuary at low tide

This day (Tuesday) was spent studying the mangrove estuary, one of the most unique environments in this part of the world. At low tide, we set out to do a rough census of fiddler crabs and other life in the sandy channels of the tidelands. One octopus, a handful of peanut worms and an angry swimming crab later, we moved into the mangrove roots in search of elusive mangrove crabs. We successfully caught two but observed about a half-dozen. The sun soon set for the third time in Animas. 

Estuary from the roof of the house

Wednesday was chaotic. Winds cancelled all boats from going out, but that didn't stop the terrestrial study from doing a hike out to an unfinished, abandoned house and the colossal mud fight that preceded said hike. The house commanded a collasal view, from which we could see all the way to the closest part of mainland Mexico. The well constructed concrete house was mostly built of native stone mortared together, with fine details like arches and a staircase to make the space livable had it been completed. There is fascinating geology in this area, probably to be covered in a later post.

Thursday was much the same, short field study followed by a hike up a nearby peak. From this peak, we watched as turkey vultures soared below us and as the other groups of students fished off distant points and scurried around camp. The yellow hill had finally been conquered after a short but steep hike with an unspeakable view. Once again, it was only to soon that the sun set for the fifth time in Las Animas.

Friday; the final day. The day's festivities included cooking for everybody else and catching one pufferfish, truly an unparalleled experience. A general lull of sorrow and exhaustion rested over camp, everybody both disappointed but ready to leave. A beautiful day with beautiful weather, everybody with a newfound respect for the desert, for the ocean, and for each other. The evening's final fish tacos were the best yet, both because of the setting, but also because they were made of Black Sea Bass, a rare fish that is illegal to catch in the United States but often consumed down south.

The night was still as the moon rose over the Sea of Cortez, even as a distant thunderstorm threw an impressive light show over the southern mountains, moving ever closer but never reaching our location. This night was what reminded me that Las Animas did not mean "Bay of the Animals," no, that would be Las Animales. Bahia de las Animas means "The Bay of Souls" and the stillness and atmosphere of this evening made that fact ever more obvious, there is an eerie vibe of this place at night, be it the distant splash of a mullet swimming against the current or of a puff of a whale surfacing, the night is alive here with more than just animals. Indeed, the night was alive with profound conversations about personal truths, beautiful music that had been written specifically for the closing night, and enough shooting stars to paint the sky all night long. It was alive with the spirits of people who had successfully recharged their minds with a week of desert living, for this was an adventure, a time of self discovery for many people, but also a time of great learning for myself and everyone involved about this phenomenal location.

First view of the Sea of Cortez at Bahia de Los Angeles.

LA Bay at sunset

Half of the caravan heading south; 21 cars in all.

A cardón, the largest species of cactus in the world.

The cordons tower over the desert. Note the blossoms on top.

Tiny fishhook cactus

Top of a smaller barrel-type cactus.

The turnoff for the remaining 28 miles of road. Much of it is very deep sand
and many cars became stuck.

Our kitchen

Introduction to the estuary 

Elephant Tree

Good idea of scale for this medium-sized cardón.

Beach

First day's yellowtail catch

Many of the cholla were in bloom

Large (and angry) swimming crab

Hunting for Red Mangrove Crabs. Note the coloration.

Accidental self-portrait

Dropped the sieve and found it photogenic.

Into the depths of a Gold Spot Bass

Grounded the kayak

An elusive Apricot Slug

Slug

Out across the bay

Made it to the house

That was our camp, our home, for seven days.

Mangroves

Cholla blossom

Looking back from climbing the Yellow Hill.

At the top of the Yellow Hill looking at Bird Island

Expand this picture by clicking on it. To the left is bird island. at center is the fishing camp and the two islands
we frequently paddled to, and center right is out camp. Far right is the (submerged) mud flat where the fight occurred.

A victim of war.

Camp. Boys on the left, girls on the right, parents everywhere else.

Small sunflower sea star washed on the beach.

Half of the fishing camp. They were genuine, kind, and intelligent people. They live here for three to four months out of the year, and have done for eight years. The settlement has existed for at least 20 years.

Fading Baja