Isla Coronado is one of five islands that comprise the Loreto Bay Marine Park, a UNESCO World Heritage site. Its western shore boasts a pristine, white sand beach, swathed in emerald green waters punctuated by severe black, lava reefs. A couple of groomed trails meander across the island. One traverses the long, low sand spit to a private beach. The other goes up…and up… and up… all the way to the top of an ancient volcano.

Hell, NO
Coronado’s volcanic cone is one of those landmark peaks that just calls to you. OK to me, not Brian. “Hike me!” “Come on - the view is priceless!” While the island trail sign indicates a 650ft height, online sources differ widely on the peak’s actual height: 928ft, 1554ft 1444ft, 600ft. I’m thinking the 900ft is the most accurate. However high this thing really is, it’s high. Every year we’d anchor here on the way down the Sea and again on the way back up. Each time I’d cheerfully suggest, “Hey, let’s hike to the top!” Each time, I’d be rebuked with not just “No”, but a resounding “Hell, NO!!!”

The Perfect Excuse
Today, our snorkeling plans got nixed due to chilly water and air temps. So our friends on Lorelei asked if we wanted to go with them to the top of the mountain instead. I looked at Brian and KNEW I had my perfect excuse… my Brian-approved (albeit grudgingly), Mt. Coronado Hike Authorization Card… one-time-use-only. After three seasons in the Sea of Cortez, we were finally going to summit this monster mountain.

4-Hour Tour
Our cruising guidebook indicates this trail to the top is “perfect for those wishing to stretch their legs and work up a sweat before swimming”. THAT is the understatement of the year. The sign on the beach states it is a mere 1hr 45 minute hike. Not true. That doesn’t count getting back down.

Tequila-Drinking Trail-Maker
Starting out, the flat trail is perfectly groomed, outlined with large, human-placed, coral pieces. Threading its way through the sugar sand among cactus and succulents, we decided Tito the Trail-maker had a bit too much tequila when laying this route. It winds away from the summit more times than towards. No wonder this takes 4 hours!

Lava Rock Fields
After about 20 minutes, the relaxing path abruptly ends and the trail rises steeply. This is where the fun begins. Massive fields of lava rock, sharp grey and red chunks of basalt, flow down the volcano sides like a prehistoric river. Such wide swaths of rust-tinted rocks made the “trail” indistinct, requiring man-made cairns to keep hikers on track.

Football-sized shards lie precariously atop one another; hundreds of thousands of them form this tumbled rock bed, piled who knows how deep. While settled after millennia, slight gaps and crevices remain. Everywhere. Each rock is sneakily poised to shift into empty space as soon as a hiker bears down weight. Careful foot placement is imperative. Similar to maneuvering Mexico sidewalks, one must maintain eyes on the ground at all times unless completely motionless. I failed at this once and gazed up mid-step, my weight too far forward before I could choose a good foot spot. I nearly toppled. I give myself a 9 for my flailing-arm-windmills performance.

Sno-Cones, Anyone?
After about an hour of picking our way along, we came upon another group of cruiser-hikers, just down from the summit. How far? “Oh, another few miles. But, they’re selling sno-cones at the restaurant at the top.” Ah, funny man.

Straight Up
Gradually, the ankle-biting rocks began to disappear, replaced with hard packed dirt, then gravel. This would be good news, except the trail led straight up. The angle of attack up that last 20 minute section of mountain had to have been 50 degrees. Our friends turned around and headed back down the mountain when pea-sized obnoxious nuggets (in copious amounts) entered our shoes and refused to leave.

I nearly bailed out myself after 5 minutes of this maddening ascent. Upon scrambling several feet up the bluff, and backsliding at each step, we’d shake out our gravel-filled shoes. Scramble, scramble, scramble…shake. Every step sustained this miserable loofah scrub. My soles have never been so smooth.

Marathon Climb
But eventually, we quit bothering to shake…stopping only to pull out a particularly intolerable shard. The quicker we get up there the better. Endure the pain. My heart pounded like a jackhammer; besieged with painful pebbles, every stride elicited an unintelligible grunt; my stair-climbing knees ached, shaking like sapling trees.

Why didn’t we stop? Because I know, that Brian knows, that I know, I would never be satisfied unless we got to the top. I had my one-time-use Mt. Coronado Hike Authorization Card, remember? After today, no more bets. So this is a marathon I was going to finish. No matter what.

Made It!
Finally, solid rock footholds appeared. The trail leveled out near the peak. My heart stopped hammering. Ahead of me, Brian called out, “Crap, it looks like another ½ mile.” What???!!! “Just kidding. We’re here!”  

Whew. We made it! 1 hour and 40 minutes later we were guzzling water at the summit, enjoying the view. Outstanding.

Satellite View
Only from the top of the island do you get any sense of its Google-sat-view. Gazing down from our bird’s-eye perch, the sky and the earth and the sea and the sand blend together in an artist’s palette of vibrant colors, swirling, shading, intensifying, fading. Indigo waters as far as you can see, shallow up to emerald, then turquoise, then brightens into brilliantly creamy sand; charcoal reefs appear as soft, mushy blobs leaking out into the sea like inkblots; our treacherous, rock-laden streambed becomes a trail of tiny cinnamon chunks from up here; tufts of blond field grass and patches of vibrant green succulent ground cover dot the landscape; the distant Gigantas mountains are a long, undulating, gray smear in the distance; white clouds streak in unison across a never-ending cornflower sky. Magical.

Getting Back Down
But, like those who scale Mt. Everest, you can’t stay long. Gotta get back down. And that can be the hardest part. Skidding down the gravel incline was faster and easier. But traversing the rock fields was a tedious balancing act. Already exhausted, we were more likely to mis-step onto a wobbly rock now than at any point. Several times, I almost lost my footing due to lack of concentration, performing those arm windmills again. But we made it back down in one piece…no broken ankles. But oh, how we ached from head to toe!
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Am I glad we did it? Yes. Wanna go again? Hell, NO!​

While resting in Puerto Escondido near the end of May, our brains begin the inevitable tack: from a cruising mindset to a storing mindset. At the Circle of Knowledge, the daily, informal cruiser gathering, June haul out plans are the topic du jour. Our own haul out date is coming up quickly. So Brian’s mind starts to whirl, contemplating the myriad of things we will need to do to prep Indigo for storage, a daunting task. MY mind begins to contemplate the food situation, and getting rid of it. Thus, a list is born.

Yes, I have a Food Spreadsheet
Rummaging through my food lockers, I tear into my 10-sheet, Food-On-Board excel spreadsheet, updating every carton, can and container still taking up shelf space. Then I start making lists of what I could make for dinner that will use up said noodles, rice, beans, canned chicken, etc. Then I make ANOTHER list of what we will have for dinner for the next week. I like lists. Almost as much as I like cheese.

May Thanksgiving
So I was super excited when our friends on Cuba Libre happened to invite us and Lorelei over for a Thanksgiving in May celebration with mutual friends on Bella Luna. Cuba Libre had a frozen turkey they needed to cook up before they hauled out. So their turkey problem became my food-inventory purging solution. Sweet. I made a huge coleslaw salad to get rid of some cabbage and baked brownies to use up some eggs. The result was a delicious Thanksgiving May Day enjoyed by all, complete with turkey and mashed potatoes and stuffing. Thanks to Cuba Libre for hosting and cooking!

Haulout Potluck
A couple weeks later, three of us boats arrived into Marina San Carlos. We planned on hauling our boats onto dry land within days of each other. This means removing all food. So we held another Food-Purge-Potluck. This time, I made canned pear oatmeal crisp and tuna noodle casserole with about 5 different cheeses. (More like cheese casserole with a smidgen of macaroni and a trace of tuna.) I still had to give away two chunks ‘o cheese at the end. So I put together a box to haul back to the van for our camping trips; I gave 3 small bags away to a couple local dock guys; and I carried two large sacks to San Carlos Yachts who, in turn, donates it to the local orphanage. What a great way to jettison food.

Salami Anyone?
As I was defrosting the fridge, I found two packets of sliced salami that I forgot about. I walked over to a boat I’d never met and dangled my expensive and coveted salami packets right in front of these strangers. “Would you guys like…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence before their eyes widened and enthusiastically replied...
“Yes! Yes! We’ll take them! We’re Polish! Of course we love salami!”

Stingray Shuffle
The Stingray Shuffle is a dance performed by beach-going visitors each year. Here in the Sea of Cortez, every public beach posts signs warning waders to shuffle their feet in shallow water. Stingrays hide from predators by burrowing flush with the sea floor, nearly invisible to us unsuspecting humans. So this sand-agitating, Mr.-Robot -shuffle-step signals the slithery specters to move… hopefully before you step down on one, resulting in a toxic spike jammed in your foot.

But I always thought those billboard notices were a tad overrated. As much as we have been in and around the water, our stingray sightings seemed pretty sporadic. We typically observe them either from the boat or snorkeling in 10-15ft depths, gliding over the sand or just resting on the bottom, one at a time, maybe two. Always comfortably distant… no close encounters… and too fast for film. But this year, I’ve seen more in two weeks than the nearly three seasons we’ve spent in Mexico combined. I’m beginning to think May is Stingray Month.

Agua Verde Video – Sneaky Stingrays
Agua Verde beckons cruisers with its clear, turquoise green water so vibrant it seems fake, like someone dumped in a barrel of Easter egg dye. We anchored at a depth of only 10ft in the east lobe where the sea floor was clearly visible. Peering down into our private fishbowl, we spotted a couple stingrays right away, skimming the white sandy bottom. Later, while swimming around a large rocky outcropping, I saw a couple more, 20ft below. I held my breath, dove down 6ft and tried GoPro stalking. This attempt was futile though – they wisely fled, bolting away like a Stinger missile.

Then, as I was filming a tiny, blue damselfish, another surprised me from behind, gliding by nonchalantly about two feet away. Holy schmeel schmazel. He just about scared my shorty wetsuit right off me. But I actually got that one on video - only by accident. After I gathered my wits, I GoPro stalked that one, successfully this time. Remarkably, this stingray was pretty chill about the whole stalking thing. And I will name him Marky Mark… for being so calm and composed while I dashed after him like paparazzi.

Watching any kind of ray swim is just cool, be they giant manta rays, mobula/eagle rays or stingrays. It is somehow satisfying to witness their wings leisurely undulate, propelling their pancake physique so gracefully. Like swooping underwater butterflies. Only bigger. And with stingers. Don’t forget the stingers…

RayNado
As that sneaky stingray passed me initially, I could have reached out and touched him. But that would have been a bad idea. These are not slimy aquarium kittens with removed stingers to allow petting. These are real stingrays with real barbs, serrated knives essentially, that if shoved into your body really hurt. In fact, as I was in hot pursuit, I thought to myself…self…what are you doing? What if he decides he doesn’t appreciate your quest for good video? And turns around? And calls over some friends? I can picture the movie trailer now: “Stingraynado – The Baja Menace”. Or not. “Raynado”? I’ll work on that one.

 So…yah, I slowed down and let Marky flutter away, while he was still in a jolly mood.

Candeleros takes the Cake
Bahia Candeleros is a shallow crescent bay whose crowning glory is the resort oasis of Villa del Palmar. Best known (at least according to us) for their expensive but delicious hamburgers, we travel-weary cruisers could think of nothing else for two days prior. Priorities, people. Stomachs satisfied, snorkeling was priority #2.

I’ve swum the eastern shore here before with not a single ray sighting. But this time we shooed several away in a foot of water just scooting the dinghy onto shore. What the heck?! While prepping our gear, the four of us marveled at several more visible in the clear water. I have never seen a stingray from shore, hanging out 2ft from the water’s edge, noticeably unafraid of our presence… let alone multiples at once.

Mmmmmm. While interesting to observe, I like seeing stingrays by the onesie’s or twosie’s. Not the 10-sies or 20-sies. Not when they might be burrowed in the sand at every footstep. And not when they refuse to scoot away from my shadow. I’m just weird like that.

Fin Flop
Do I really want to go swimming with all these guys? Especially in these initial 2 ft depths. I mean, it’s one thing to get your foot stung (I haven’t yet, fortunately). It’s quite another to put your whole body up for grabs (ala Steve Irwin who was fatally stung in the heart.)

Well, we’re here, let’s do this. Instead of waiting to don my fins in the water though, I put them on at the beach. Better to have that extra 1ft of spacing between me and them, eh? I looked memorably moronic, duck-walking and flopping with my large yellow flippers. My intended crazed commotion (albeit awkward) would have scared away a shark. Or, more likely, attracted one. Hoping I was in the clear, I face-planted into the 2ft pool.

Everywhere I looked, there they were. Crikey.

What IS this place? A stingray incubation facility? Wow. There’s one over there. And another over there. And three down there and two more on the rocks… and on and on. We probably saw 20-30 just in this one small area. Brian and I usually point out interesting things to each other as we are swimming, but with stingrays hovering all around, we felt no need. Until…

Strangely Still Stingrays
Brian called out to me to “come over here”...which sounds a lot like “mmm orrrre earrr” under water. I sashay over to where he is staring at something. Two somethings. One on top of the other, but the bottom one is upside down. OMG. Is THAT what I THINK it is? Yes. Yes indeedy-do. Apparently I was right… this IS a stingray incubation facility.

Leave it to us to stumble upon yet another species, well, uh, having fun. (We came across mating frogs, butterflies and walking sticks last year.) Man, I wish I’d brought the GoPro instead of the camera. Eyeballing me with suspicion as I zoomed in for the shot, the intimate couple was none too thrilled with me invading their private time. Well, you’re doing it here right out in the open, so what do you expect?

“OK…work it… come on, at least pretend you’re having fun…no? OK then…just… say cheese!” Click, click, click.

And here are my up close and personal stingray porn stills. You’re welcome.
 
Fun Stingray Facts:

• A group of stingrays is called a fever.
• I’ve since learned the month of May IS stingray month. Apparently, they are quite prolific in late spring.
• The three chief species in the Sea of Cortez are Reef, Round or Cortez Stingrays. These types don’t get much bigger than a foot wide and their toxic barbs are not fatally poisonous.
• Peeing on it is NOT the proper treatment for a stingray wound. (Although it can work for jellyfish stings, as would any other mild acid like vinegar.)
• Soaking the affected area in hot water, reportedly over 110degrees, breaks down the toxins faster. The biggest risk is infection, so being several hours away from a doctor in the middle of nowhere is reason enough to be cautious.

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Stone Scorpionfish
Have you ever wondered: “What’s the ugliest fish in the world?” Well, look no further. Scroll through my gallery to the very end. There you will find what I believe is a Stone Scorpionfish. Unlike an octopus who can transmute himself into the shape of a coral outcropping or rock, a Stone Scorpionfish already looks like one. The fish I found was resting in white sand next to a rock. But this “rock” just looked odd. I wasn’t sure of what I was seeing at first since he was frozen in place… waiting for dinner to glide by, I presume. Not only are they butt-ugly, they too, sport highly toxic spines. If stepped on, the wounds are similar to getting zapped by a stingray. Except worse. An infection can be deadly. With stingrays and scorpionfish and porcupinefish and sea urchins – why is everything in the Sea trying to stab me?