a thirsty coyote, bee free, the mystery continues, birds out of place
30 August 2015 | Bahia de los Angeles
Vandy
We hung out in Ensenada el Quemado for a few days, enjoying this beautiful bay with its teeming wildlife and cool breezes. And it was blissfully insect free: no bees bothered us by day, nor mosquitoes by night. While we were there, some of our cruising friends came by and dropped their anchors, too. We had some more good times with Nia and Mike from Azul, and Jeanne from Nereida.
I took the kayak out a couple of times, before the wind came up in the morning, while the surface of the sea was glassy. I enjoy floating around, checking out what's going on below. The water was clear enough that I could see down to the bottom, even as I floated 30 feet above it. Below me, schools of small fish maneuvered as if one organism; larger fish cruised around, looking for a meal; sting rays moved over the sand like little disc-shaped hovercrafts; pelicans and boobies dove, bringing fish death from above. On the beach, a lone coyote loped along. It joined its companions who were lolling around in a shady spot; then the entire group left the beach, melting into the desert terrain beyond.
A little while later, I saw another lone coyote trotting up the beach, limping a little. This one seemed leggier, and yellower, than coyotes usually are, and I wondered if it might be a coyote-dog hybrid. It stopped to look at me, as I floated just off the beach, and then continued along on its way.
I paddled out to explore the pinnacles out by the rocky point. As I floated toward one tiny secluded beach, I saw what looked like a dead dog sprawled in the sand beside a boulder. No sooner had I thought, "Aw, that's sad," then the dog stirred, stood up, and walked slowly to the other end of the beach, where it stood with its head hanging low, considering me. It was the leggy yellow coyote with the limp, and it looked tired and ragged. I wondered if it was thirsty. I don't know where any of the local animals find water, during the long, dry months between rains.
I paddled back to SCOOTS, grabbed a bottle of water, a container to pour it into, and, on a whim, a few slices of bacon. I paddled back to the little beach. The coyote was still standing at the other end, watching me. I pulled the kayak up on the sand, poured the water into the container and left it, along with the bacon, above the high tide line on the beach. Then I paddled out and watched. The yellow coyote sniffed the air, then followed the scent all the way to the other end of the beach. I watched it eat the bacon and have a drink of water, before I paddled away.
The mystery continues...The little brown bird appeared two more times while we were in Ensenada el Quemado: once I saw it perched on the kayak as it floated behind SCOOTS; another time, it flew from the deck toward shore. I still can't figure out whether it's living aboard or not, but it does seem to be following us.
Birds out of place...I have now seen two species of birds that are usually here only in the winter. One lone male surf scoter hung out with us in the Isla Partida anchorage; and there is a pair of Pacific loons living here in Ensenada el Quemado. I was able to positively ID the loons visually and by their call. The scoter was silent but has quite distinctive coloration. Both species, according to all my bird guides, are winter residents. I have no idea why they're here now, when all their friends and family have moved on.
We pulled up our anchor in the early afternoon, and headed out of the anchorage, sailing north toward Bahia de los Angeles. On the way, we took a quick tour of Puerto Don Juan, the legendary hurricane hole anchorage, which is just around the corner from Ensenada el Quemado. We thought it would be a good idea to check out this anchorage and get the lay of the land, before having to go there to ride out a hurricane. This cove is well-protected from waves of any direction, but we were a bit dismayed at the the way the wind accelerated inside it, the gentle 5 knots outside ramping up to more than 15 knots inside. That would not be a plus during a hurricane.
After our tour of Puerto Don Juan, we continued into Bahia de los Angeles, and put SCOOTS' anchor down just off the village, joining the half dozen other cruising boats who were already anchored there in anticipation of the next day's Full Moon Party.