Luanne Rice

Bestselling author Luanne Rice visited Baja in March 2008.

Luanne Rice (center), with NRDC International Program director Jacob Scherr and his wife, Carole Dickert-Scherr

March 16, 2008 - laguna san ignacio

thank you to NRDC for inviting me to join the expedition to laguna san ignacio. the group was made up of 18 people from all over the country, all interested in the environment, gray whales, nrdc, and how they all come together in one spectacular place. after a two and a half hour flight down the rugged fingerbone peninsula of baja california, the pacific ocean visible out one side of the plane, the azure sea of cortez out the other, and the indomitable mountains and desert directly below the plane, we landed on a sand airstrip in kuyima. that town's name means "whale," variously translated as "light in the darkness" and "dancing in the clouds" (thank you, jose luis of baja discovery…) and those translations, as poetic as they are, are also as real as it gets. because those phrases express what the place and experience were for me.

after landing, the journey continued-overland on a rough, unpaved road, then a boat ride, and finally arrival in baja discovery's whale camp, located on a rocky point. from land we stared into the lagoon, seeing countless spouts, the barnacle-encrusted back of a mother whale, the dorsal ridge of her calf. this was it for me-the culmination of a lifetime of loving whales, particularly the gray whale, having been inspired so young by the book the whales go by. here they were, in this singular, pristine, untrammeled lagoon at the end of their 4000 mile migration down the coast. they travel from their krill-rich feeding grounds in the chukchi and bering seas, south to the warm waters off baja to give birth and offer the baby whales a chance get strong before the long trip home.

the whales' migratory route is ancient, encoded into the species, particular to their needs for survival. food at one end, birth at the other. i was deeply moved to be with other nrdc members and, especially, jacob scherr, the nrdc lawyer who with joel reynolds spearheaded one of the largest environmental campaigns in history, opposing mitsubishi's plans to build a massive saltworks there in the lagoon, saving the whales' precious and vital breeding ground. jacob and his wife carole dickert-sherr were so great and inspiring…they really filled me with hope, that change can happen when you really believe and work for it. i believe the benefits of preserving the biosphere are good not only for the whales but for us-human beings. if you visit laguna san ignacio, you will see why-but even if you don't, and you open your hearts and imaginations to the gray whales, to nature in general, i think you'll feel grateful for the lagoon's protected existence.

i wrote a journal…i'll copy part of it here. thank you to everyone [including our whale scientists and guides-jose luis zuniga, jim peckarsky, sue rocca, katie jones, and kevin culmback] for a rich, life-altering week. i am forever changed by my time with the gray whales and with these people.

march 12

the peace is almost unimaginable. sea meets sky, and the sea is filled with gray whales. i sit in a camp chair on a sandy bluff jutting into the lagoon. from this seat i hear waves, the constant wind, and the whales' exhalations and intake of breath just yards offshore. less than thirty minutes ago i touched two whales, mother and calf. they swam up to our boat and i reached out my hand and they made contact. my skin and theirs, and i still feel it in my fingertips. even more amazing, i looked into their eyes. the mother came up, rolled on her side, and jim, our guide, said "take off your sunglasses, let her see your eyes." so i did, and she came back again, and we were eye-to-eye.
hello, you're there.
and then she came up again…
you're still there…

yes, i am. i'm emotional about this. i know no other way to be. i looked into the eye of the whale and fell in love. we are bonded for life. i was touched by the fact that jacob and carole were on the boat with me, so much of this place and its saving due to his work. i told him the whales were coming so close, staying with us for so long, to thank him. maybe that's so. i think it is.

the whales face enough dangers in the wild. we all do, don't we? i remember that book i read and loved. it shook me, the way the orcas chased the whales so fiercely. and katie, our orca expert, says that those killer whales are transients, out there in the sea waiting beyond the mouth of this lagoon. i think we all have our own private killer whales. that is life and reality and the food chain.

danger in the form of human beings and development and destruction of habitat is a different story, potentially disastrous to the species, and why the work of nrdc is so critical, inspirational, and beautiful.

here i am in this place of perfect peace. this is my planet, as much my home as my hometown or back yard or apartment in chelsea. i live here. and so do the whales.

later march 12

it's night.
stars and crescent moon so bright they throw shadows across this bluff, this treeless landscape. sand, scrub, low vegetation: desert island.

our mess tent is a relic from desert storm. kathryn deagon, my tent mate, said that this place and the whales and the wind and all the love are purifying the tent of war. i myself feel like a tent being purified. i came here feeling a certain amount of stress and sadness. but i sit here by the sea, breathing clean air and listening to the whales go by, their breath loud and both gentle and rough, and feel cleansed.

the stars are so bright.

they swing down to the water's surface with bright exuberance.

march 13

this is a community. getting to know each other, getting along. we're roughing it, but with-it has to be said-elegance. great food, candles on the dinner table, wine for those who want it. the people are so interesting, creative, passionate about nature. we talk about our work and our families, the books we like, the places we've lived and visited, and of course the whales. laguna san ignacio is distinguished by its population of "friendly" whales-those who are curious about humans and wish to make contact. they are heartbreakingly trusting. going out each day i've been with patricia durham and her husband doug hammer, from san francisco. patricia and i both love the movie "once" and agree on what the young woman says to the young man by the sea. (we both think she says "i love you.") patricia embraced the fact that the way to call whales is to reach into the water and splash…

patricia and i kissed the same baby whale almost at the same time…the picture just above shows us with carole in her incredibly lucky pink hat. along with addie, a.k.a. "the whale magnet" (the only child at the camp, here with her mother pam dayton), carole in her pink hat really had the magic to get the whales to come over.

maxine and dave clark are here from sacramento, and i hope it's not embarrassing them to say i think they have one of the great love stories…a "love of his life" kind of story… and patsy grace and harvey bottelsen are here from santa barbara, along with their friends jach pursel and enrique dominguez. sandra lefstad is here from northwest florida; she's so knowledgeable about birds, and gazes up at the great and varied flights passing overhead. beverly white and barbara van hanken are friends from oklahoma. barbara was one of the founders of the crested butte film festival, and i enjoyed talking to her about independent film. elizabeth west is a librarian from santa fe and has some amazing stories about growing up in boston…as well as a very intriguing theory about the true author of plays attributed to shakespeare.

i've spent the most time with kathryn. she is so kind, funny, bright, wonderful; i'm lucky to be sharing a tent with her. we've had some really epic talks. i already know i'll miss her. here are a few random shots, people gathered together or just coming and/or going, old friends, new friends, in the boats, on dry land… you'll notice that they're mostly of people, not whales. that's because when i was out on the water, i was so absorbed in just watching, taking it all in, i hardly ever took my camera out. but with the people it was another story…

i apologize to our panga driver because he's turned away, searching for whales, and i can't tell who it is. otherwise, from left: me, doug, jacob, carole, and patricia. on boat with patricia, doug, carole, jacob

march 14

and from the lagoon's blue-silver glimmer rose the mother and calf, surging toward us, dipping under and emerging eye-to-eye with all of us rapt along the starboard side. the baby called to us, communicating as surely as if she'd spoken. held aloft on her mother's back, she leaned close to be embraced.

the mother pushes the baby toward the humans. why does she do that? it feels almost as if she's proud, as if she wants us to admire, hug her child. the island shimmers, a mirage of sand and bones.

later, same day…

thinking of my sisters, wishing they could see this place. i told kathryn of a poem by william wordsworth, loved by maureen, my youngest sister. maureen quotes the line "nature never did betray the heart that loved her."

the naturalists are so wonderful. lots to say about each person. katie and kevin, friends from san juan island, have such gentle energy and so much to teach us about whales. very interesting that katie's specialty is the orca, particularly the resident group found on the link above-the orca and gray whale being integral to each other's existence.

kevin arrived at whale camp later in the season than the others, but you'd never know-he's so hospitable, intent on making us all comfortable. he's been so kind and warm, helping me look things up in the library. standing in the tide pool, watching a crab, he helped me make observations that would help identify it…

sue works with wdcs out of plymouth, massachusetts, studying humpback whales on stellwagen bank. we spoke about woods hole; i told her about my time there, and about my own year with the humpbacks. i definitely hope to reconnect with her when i'm in new england this summer.

jim was formerly a sixth grade teacher, and it shows in his humor and patience and encouraging manner. elizabeth told me she was hesitant about touching whales, and he helped her break through that fear. he has a very mystical story of how he came to work in whale research…he's been going to baja for a long time, and when the gray whale season ends, he'll be going to maui to study humpbacks.

later…

intense heat of the sun, land scoured by pacific winds. whale bones line one stretch of beach, a graveyard within sight of the nursery. blinding light, the white-frilled edge of each wave. elegy in the immediate moment.

we took a boat out to the mouth of the lagoon, saw several whales moving very fast, heading seaward. it's time for some of them to start leaving, to begin their journey north. i feel connected to them. i want them to make it, to survive the year, to return to this peaceful place next winter.

i'll be thinking of them, remembering this.

please go to the NRDC site and check out biogems: endangered places and creatures you will love and want to save, just like the lagoon and the gray whales. click and send messages, change the world…

Originally posted by Luanne Rice on her blog at
http://www.randomhouse.com/features/luannerice/