I hope they are whales. The mystery remains unresolved as twilight turns to total blackness. I crawl into my sleeping bag and drift off, listening to large creatures moving nearby in a dark sea. Here the grand columnar cactus and rugged, mostly empty terrain of the Sonoran Desert meet the Sea of Cortez. Multicolored volcanic ash flows, long since hardened to jagged rock, reach into the sea like fantastic taffy mountains.
Dolphins are visible by day and coyotes heard by night.
Beneath the water's surface, one of the world's narrowest seas invites submersible explorers into an environment as teeming with life as its terrestrial neighbor is sparse. May God preserve it from the greed of gringo developers and the ignorance of Mexican fishermen. Upon arrival in this secluded little cove, we picked up three bags of garbage, mostly Mexican candy wrappers, diapers and picnic junk. Oil filter gaskets were regularly interspersed with the assorted garbage. Apparently, when the fishermen working the coastline change their boat oil, they toss the oil-soaked filters overboard.