Let's Go2Mazatlan - Articles

Driving across the Sea of Cortez
(Snorkeling off Goat Island)
By Nancy V. Sont

We were in a truck.or a boat. Anyway, it was a WW2 amphibian land and sea craft. The  motor was loud; the waves were undulating beneath us as we left the Hotel El Cid. It was strange to go from rolling to floating as we left the shore and the hotel district of  Mazatlán.
 
There was shade under the canopy above us. Benches lined the open sides. Our stuff was on our laps, there were no walls to keep things from sliding or washing overboard, only rails. The deep green water sparkled in the sunlight. We've been told the boat will leave us on the island in 20 minutes and be back for us in two hours.
 
We were going snorkeling. A map, in English, above the captain says the best areas to snorkel on Deer Island are on both ends of the beach where the rocks are. I wonder what we'll see. The humid air is sticking to me as the wind blows it away.
 
"Don't forget the tip for the captain," another sign says. I suppose he's been neglected a lot in the past, otherwise he wouldn't have put up the sign.

We sail peacefully for a long moment. Then out of nowhere, a boat speeds up alongside us. A man holds up his hands as if to take our photo. He wants to take our photo? That's a new gimmick! I think. Do I have money to pay for a photo? Do I want a photo of us all on this boat? I make eye contact and shake my head. What's he doing? He pulls closer and closer. Finally he holds up a camera wrapped in a black plastic bag. The Captain sees him and goes over to receive it. Stepping on the bench along the open side, he takes the camera.

Good grief, did I ever misjudge the situation! Jane looks around at her bag, then at the camera and joyfully retrieves it. That's service with a smile, I think, still amazed that anyone would do such a nice thing and take so much trouble for us, especially since we're going to be going back to return our equipment anyway!
 
The driver turns his small motorboat around and zooms off into the deep blueness.
 
I look to the front again. This is the Pacific Ocean, just south of where the Sea of Cortez divides Mexico and Baja. A few tall island mountains line the horizon as our destination looms into view, bathed in sunlight. What a good photo. Too bad my camera is in its waterproof box.
 
As we approach, we see that the island is rock cliffs covered with forested foliage, a mountain sticking out above the sea. A white beach rims the section we're heading toward. A few canoes are pulled up out of the water. With binoculars I search the rocks and pipe cactus for goats: none; and for birds: none of them either. Well, there must be
some, they just don't like being out in this heat. A thatched building sits alongside the beach. Our submerged wheels feel solid ground as we bump our way over the waves of washed sand. Swimmers watch as we near, rolling across the beach on those huge tires.
 
The water was cloudy and salty as we snorkeled our way along, trying to find fish.
They eluded us for awhile, and then finally I realized they were on the rocks. Unlike a coral reef, the rocks were yellowish or green on top and lighter near the base. The surf pushed back and forth, taking the various submissive fish along with it.

 
Schools of large, clear foot-long fish surrounded us. A small 6"long, blue iridescent one followed our blue flippers through the water. Photographing it was hard. Every time the flippers moved, the fish followed.
 
Jane kept finding great schools while Scarlett and I just searched. The further I got from the sandy beach, the more I could see: small yellow and black striped ones, rainbow colored short ones the length of fingerlings.
 
Lots of black urchins clung to rocks and crevices. Brown bottom feeders with their mouths at the base of their faces were sucked along the rocks by the surf.
 
Two glimmering white fish with yellow trim darted away as a large wide black fish with three back fins rushed after them.
 
Other large fish lingered in deep pools between the rocks, while smaller ones darted in and out of holes.
 
A clicking like sand or pebbles hitting rocks grew louder as a large school of fish swam past me then subsided as they passed and disappeared.
 
Tired from the movement of the surf, we retreated to land. The thatch hut, it turned out, served lemon-sautéed shrimp which we ate as we sat on the boat again, waiting for the captain to start the journey back. A couple and their child frolicked in the beach.
 
I wished we had time to climb the mountain and see the goats. We were told to watch out for the black goat at the top of the island mountain, the rest were nice.
 
 "Just take your shirt off and use it like for a bull if he comes after you!" the shop owner had told us.
 
Just like the mountains of Alaska, this one came right down to the waters edge.
 
Magnificent frigatebirds, or frigates as they're called locally, build foot wide nests on the rocks, even though you never see a frigate on the ground, only flying.
 
I didn't know it at the time, but I had received quite a gift from the sea to take along with me, a blazing sunburn that would last for 4 days before it turned into an exasperating itch. Next snorkeling adventure: sunscreen!
 
If you go:  The WW2 amphibian boat runs to the island every two hours 10:00, 12:00 pm, 2:00 pm and at 4:00 pm. The last trip back to the mainland runs at 4:00 pm.
 
There are bathrooms and services on the island. Prices are USD $8.00 for snorkeling equipment, USD $8.00 for the boat ride to the island.

Nancy V. Sont - NVS Editorial Services
Website: http://www.travelwriters.com/nancyvsont
E-mail: nancysont@hotmail.com