Spring Break, Day 3 and thereafter

I am so sorry for the delay, devoted reader(s). Although usually I would agree with you (blog before you forget the details!), the trip took a decidedly less death-defying turn once we decided to give up on our little dingy. Because blogging about disaster is always more interesting than blogging about success, I just wasn't as urgently motivated to tell you about the rest of the trip.... but I will.

We got back to the mainland and immediately (I am not kidding) ordered a margarita at the restaurant that owned the dock. We needed a new plan. While drinking said margarita, we decided to ask our waiter if HE knew of any way to get to the islands. He said there were fisherman that would be at the dock within the hour and that we should talk to them because they would be happy to take us. And so we did. Who'd have thunk it was that easy? $120 one-way to the island(s) of our choice. Given how much the boat cost to buy, I mean fix, and then tow, and then fix-- this was a steal. Why we didn't just go with fishermen who have sea-worthy vessels and boating experience in the first place, you might ask? I also asked. Here's a pic of Michelle and I celebrating life.

So we set out that evening for Cabeza de Caballo (the ominously named, if you like The Godfather, Horsehead Island). This island was rumored to have snakes, but none have ever been collected. We arrived just at dark, and since I was the only one (besides the dog) who had never actually caught a snake before, I volunteered to set up camp and cook dinner while the other three set out looking for C. mitchelli. This earned me the nickname Cookie, at least with Matt, for the remainder of the trip. About two hours later, Jesse came back with a snake. Half an hour later, Matt came back with 1 more. Given that Jesse had told me that he would be happy if we caught a handful of snakes during the entire trip, this seemed like quite a coup. Michelle came back a little while later and we hit the hay. The next morning, we searched again (this time, even yours truly was on the prowl). Lots of chuckwallas were out. They are big, skittish, and loud (=easy to spot). Mitchelli, on the other hand, are not. To emphasize this point, I have pasted a picture below. Try and find the snake in it. Unfortunately, I have not mastered the blogosphere sufficiently to have you click on it to see the snake pointed out, so I just pasted the photo again below with a circle. This may not be lifesize on your computer screen, but I think you see my point (or don't; punny, huh?) So, I didn't find any the first day. But I did find a baby chuckwalla! And I wanted to grab SOMETHING. So I picked it up and made kissy faces.
That morning, Matt found another one (right near our camp), so by the time the fisherman came to get us at mid-day we had 6 snakes and even a chance to snorkel in the beautiful bay. Success! Off to island number two-- Piojo (= louse). This island was farther away, with steep sides and a relatively flat top. Most notably, the island was covered with pelicans. Pelicans seem docile and majestic when you see them flying in small clusters at the beach-- gliding along the wave lines, parallel to the shore, occasionally dipping down to score some small fish snack treat. When you are in their hood, however, they do not seem docile. They seem irritated, and prehistoric, and gigantic. Still majestic, but just more.... real. We arrived on Piojo in the evening and made a quick dinner and then set out to find snakes in the dark. The snakes move at night to forage and mate making the trade-off between lack of light (night) versus lack of movement (day) pretty worthwhile if you have a good flashlight. We climbed up the not-so-steep cliff by our beach and got on top of the flat-roofed island to look around. The wind was blowing fiercely and the shiny-eyed pelicans seem to be everywhere. We tried to avoid valleys where they were nesting so as not to disturb their roost, but it was hard because there were so many. Seeing pelican babies in a nest squawking from their freshly hatched eggs will not be an image soon erased from my mind. Nor will the shadowy swooping overhead of vigilant pelican parents expressing their utmost dismay that I might be having an unforgettable moment peering into one of their nests. But we weren't their for birdwatching, we were there for snakes. And snakes we did find-- actually, Jesse found. Four to be exact-- I didn't take any pictures because it was dark, but he was just as ecstatic as he was the previous day on Cabeza, so I can show that. We had plenty, and really did not want to put the pelicans out any more than we already had, so we camped on the beach, relieved to know we had (again) gotten plenty of snakes on an island with no guarantees. The next morning was once again spent snorkeling and exploring near the shore. Amidst my poking around in the intertidal zone, lo' and behold, I found a snake! Practically with one foot in the ocean! These snakes are not swimmers, but the fact that I stumbled upon on so close to the water made Jesse's raft hypothesis to explain the colonization (or re-colonization) of some of the islands very plausible. It was so weird, but now it was official: I became a herpetologist. Admittedly, they are easier to spot on the giant dark rocks near the shore, but still, I became one.

The next day, the fisherman, and Michelle, and Michelle's husband (Claudio) and her labmate, and her labmate's boyrfriend, all came to Piojo to pick us up (me, Jesse, Matt, and the dog, and the snakes-- all alive, in pillow cases knotted at the top to prevent their escape). We headed north for Smith Island with enough camping supplies to last six months. We were spending one night. But look at Gilligan's Island-- who knows how long we might have ended up there? With 7 professors and no MaryAnn, I am not sure how great the ratings would be. We landed on the east side of the island and set up camp. Everyone set out to find snakes, and with our expanded crew and our previous two days of good luck, we were extremely hopeful. Jesse and I found one within about 30 minutes of looking, and then another one about 40 minutes after that. We figured that, at this rate, we would catch more than we could take with us. But alas, the rest of the night was fruitless, and the next day spent searching yielded only one snake for the whole group, bringing out total to 3 for the island. No matter, we had adjusted our expectations a bit after the snake parade the previous two days, but happily accepted this as our catch before returning to the mainland.

Once on the mainland, we wanted to look for mainland mitchelli (the scientist's quest is a neverending one, yes). We went night driving after dark in hopes of seeing some crossing the road in search of food or nookie, but did not see a single snake of any kind. We did see some people on the side of the road, however, and after tenuously slowing down to see if they were banditos or not, I recognized the tell-tale darwinized jesus fish logo on one of their t-shirts and hollered out to our biologist brethren, "Nice shirt!" After quickly finding out one of them was the author of a marine inverterbrate guide to the Sea of Cortez who wanted to cut us a deal on a recent edition, we stopped to shoot the breeze. Turns out, they were heading into BLA to meet up with National Geographic to dive and look for giant squid. We paid our reduced price, got our books signed, jump back in the car and continued our snakeless drive back to camp. Thanks for the discount Hans!
The next day was spent measuring, photographing, and preserving snakes (note the dog, under the processing table). Claudio and the rest of the reinforcement crew had to leave the next day to catch their plane in San Diego, so there was only time for a few more margaritas and fish tacos before we had to starting thinking about our 2000 mile return trip as well. Despite what you've heard about the border regions and the drug wars in Mexico, our passage went very smoothly and the whole team made it back to Arlington in one piece, despite the near-death theme to the first few days of the trip. Death is a theme in Baja though-- the evidence of the harsh desert conditions is everywhere around you. Even though I was surprised at how green and lush it was compared to the mental image I had before we arrived, I saw more skeletons that week than I have seen since working on bird bones at the museum back in 2002. A good reminder that life is short and death, too, can be beautiful. Although I am very glad to be reporting that second hand.... more adventures and flashbacks coming soon.