We entered the anchorage at about 9:30 am, hoping that the sun was high enough for us to see the bottom. Our friends on the boat, Sarita, who'd visited Isla Isabel a couple of weeks earlier, had told us there was a large, relatively rock-free, sandy area running NE to SW through the anchorage. We wanted to find that and drop our anchor there.

The first three anchor drops found rocks which the anchor just skidded over, but on the fourth try, we were definitely over sand, and when we dropped the anchor, it dug in and held. Yay! I put on my snorkeling gear and swam over the anchor float (in a rocky anchorage, it's prudent to attached a float to the back side of the anchor, to give you another way to pull it up, if it gets wedged in the rocks) and saw that it was indeed set nicely in the sand. We had arrived.


SCOOTS in the anchorage

People come to Isla Isabel for the wildlife. And rightly so: the sea, sky, shore, and slopes of Isla Isabel are alive with animals. Heermann's Gulls, Magnificent Frigatebirds, Red-billed Tropicbirds, Brown Pelicans, Blue-footed Boobies, and Brown Boobies swirl in the air over the island and anchorage; iguanas bask in the sun; tropical fish ply the rocky reefs. I can see why it's been called "The Galapagos of Mexico."

The experience gets even better when you go ashore...exploring the island with our friends, Morris and Debbie, from Impulsive, we've been continually amazed and charmed by the birds and iguanas we've seen there.





The island has an eerie "Jurassic Park" feel to it: from the crumbling concrete building that once housed the island's now-abandoned research facility, with its still-functioning solar panels jury-rigged to banks of batteries...


Jurassic Park battery bank

to the clicking and screeching swarms of giant, pterodactyl-like frigatebirds wheeling just overhead, or perched on branches of the island's low trees...


Feeding time


Frigatebird family


Dad


Mom and Baby

or peering down at you with their limpid black eyes, as they squat on their impossibly-small nests.


A cute little baby frigatebird


Looking innocent (but we know better now...)

Unthreatened by the presence of humans, these birds allow us to come quite close to them.







One day, we happened upon a frigatebird yoga class...




Om!

I'm sure none of these more-enlightened frigatebirds are the ones acting like jerks.

Speaking of frigatebirds: Eric and I had read in many places that frigatebirds don't land on the water, and will drown if they do, because they can't take back off. Well, we've now seen three frigatebirds who, during the melees that ensue when many frigatebirds try to steal food from another bird, landed in the water, AND THEN TOOK BACK OFF. So that bit of widely-held frigatebird lore is untrue.

Two kinds of Boobies are currently nesting here, too: Blue-footed Boobies


Check out those impossibly blue feet


and Brown Boobies (which, by the way, have green feet).

Both types have cone-shaped faces, but, to my mind, seem to express different personalities. Brown Boobies have rich, chocolate-brown plumage, dark eyes, a mellow demeanor, and earnest expressions.



Blue-footed Boobies, on the other hand, with their shrill, whistle- wheezing call, stiff-legged courtship dance, and bleach-blonde-buzz-cut head plumage, seem goofy and frazzled.



Unlike the frigatebirds, who nest in the island's low trees, the boobies build their nests - often just shallow depressions formed in the dirt or surrounded by a sparse ring of grass - on wind-swept ridges, or perched precariously on narrow ledges that jut out from the cliffs. Like the frigatebirds, they are completely at ease with humans, allowing us to walk among them as they incubate their eggs.










A fuzzy baby booby (booblet?)


The view from the booby rookery.

Every afternoon, from about 3-5 pm, is Tropicbird Happy Hour. During this time, hundreds of red-billed tropicbirds - 18-inch-long white birds, with black stripes on their wings and a black face mask, a bright red beak and two white 18-inch-long tail feathers streaming out behind them - converge on the bay, flying in from their feeding grounds out over the open ocean. In pairs, they fly in large circles, around and around the bay, rapidly beating their wings, and screeching excitedly and insistently. In form, flight, and voice, they call to mind large, loud, long-tailed parakeets. I suspect this is a form of courtship, because occasionally a pair will disappear into one of the small caves that dot the vertical cliff face.

Heermann's gulls live here, too. These gray gulls were familiar neighbors at the California beaches. Here, they hang out on low rocks and fly in seemingly aimless forays out over the bay, and back, or around the corner, and back, all the while shouting their amusing call: "Ow! Ow! Ow! Hahahahahahahahaha!"


Some of the gang on the rocks

I must also mention the only non-avian animals we've seen on land: lizards. The island is full of them: brown, gray, and green iguanas; and a variety of smaller striped lizards. When you walk anywhere, the iguanas along your path stare balefully at you, or, if you're about to step on them, will crawl slowly - begrudgingly - out of the way. The smaller, striped lizards, on the other hand, are FAST! The path ahead seems almost alive at times, from the movements of the striped lizards dashing across to get out of your way.


You can't see me...

Today, we had some humpback whales visit us in the anchorage. They never came closer than about 50 yards from the sailboats, but it was a thrill, to have them nearby. From the anchorage, we have an unobstructed view of the ocean to the south, where we frequently see whales spouting or breaching.


Whales!

On the shore of one of the little coves off the bay, is a fish camp consisting of about a dozen large sheet metal shelters. Here, a handful of fishermen beach their pangas, take care of their gear, and sleep in the shelters.


Fish camp

There is another group of fishermen who tie up their pangas to a mooring in the anchorage - and even sleep in them - and who don't go into the fish camp. We're not sure what the difference is, between these two groups, but they certainly segregate themselves.

Each dawn, the fishermen from both groups drive their pangas out into the ocean, returning in the afternoon to clean their catch. And each evening, they go out again, returning late at night.


A panga returning after a day's fishing

In case you think all we've been doing is exploring the island, you'd be almost correct. We've also been taking care of some small jobs aboard SCOOTS, making good on the "fixing your boat in exotic places" definition of cruising.

We've been anchored here for five days now, with no particular departure date in mind. It's nice here; the weather is warm and the backyard is beautiful. There's always something to see or hear or do, so it never gets boring. And besides, we haven't had the opportunity to do much snorkeling yet....