The Rocio del Mar was our first liveaboard experience in 2016, thanks to our friend Ron Peters. It was part deja vu, part homecoming, to be climbing back aboard her in Puerto Penasco (aka Rocky Point) at the top of the Sea of Cortez in September of 2022. On this trip we decided no video. Check out our 2016 post if you need a fix.
On our shuttle trip down from Phoenix, we stopped in the little town of Ajo, Arizona to pick up a few sundries. Mainly beer. And more beer. Well, it was a Fin Life trip, so enough said. Once again, Jason and Jeanette had assembled the perfect group of divers to take this journey south to the Midriff Islands for a week of diving in what Jacques Cousteau described as The World’s Aquarium. Since he uttered that quote, the world has been tapping on the glass a bit, but it is still an amazing place and the only place we’ve ever been where we didn’t see another soul for pretty much the whole time we were there.
As we were heading south in our shuttle vans, there was talk about this bitch named Kay who might spoil our trip, if she kept on the path she was heading. Who the hell is Kay? Why does she have it out for us? Kay got her start in Guatemala and had been cruising off the coast of southern Mexico. Eventually she was crawling along the Baja peninsula working herself up to a Category 2 hurricane on what was to be our last dive day.
With this little tidbit of knowledge in our pocket, (yay science!), the itinerary was changed somewhat so that we would hit the more southern spots after the first day and then work our way back north to stay ahead of Kay, should she decide not to turn back out to sea.
The seas were rough on our overnight journey south and Shelli and I were both thrilled we didn’t get sick. We awoke off the shores of the largest of the Midriffs, Isla Angel de La Guarda, chowed down on breakfast and got prepped for our first dives of the day. Crew Chief Bob, aka “Bad News Bob”, gave us all our dive briefings and was always happy to tell us everything that could go wrong on a specific site. At some point it actually became kind of funny and led to our coining his nickname. He really was a nice guy and he took good care of us. He also enjoyed sharing diving horror stories.
We did two dives at Andrea’s Eagle. Visibility was not as good as we hoped but we still saw an amazing variety of creatures on all of our dives that day. I’m always excited to see new species and I was not disappointed. We saw green and blue Tambja nudibranchs all over the place and an assortment of different rays including several electric rays and Orangethroated Pikeblennies. After our last dive of the day at the appropriately named Nudi Cave, we headed south over night.
The next day we parked off of Isla San Pedro de Martir (aka Bird Shit Island). We were excited to be back here again so we could dive with the Kahlifohnia sea lions that call this home base, and had expectations of some great visibility. Alas the visibility wasn’t as great as we hoped or remembered. To be fair, it wasn’t Hood Canal at the end of summer “visibility”, but even the guides were surprised it wasn’t clearer and blamed it on the storm. Well, at least Bob did. 🙂
The sea lions were as playful as ever. At times it was like it was raining sea lions as groups of them came straight down to 50 or 60 feet out of the murk above. They would dart around our group, twisting and turning like little fighter jets and then disappear to grab another lung-full of air. I chewed through a lot of my own air as I rolled and twisted (somewhat) in an effort to keep them engaged. We opted out of the night dive and dove one more in the morning and then headed to our next stop for two dives off Isla Los Animas and dove the Lavadero (Washing Machine) dive site.
Throughout it all, Bad News Bob, kept us updated about Kay, her path and what they were doing to keep us safe and diving as much as possible. At this point, it was decided for sure that we would lose two days of diving as the storm was getting closer. We hauled up the anchor that afternoon and headed for our final stop outside of Bahia de los Angeles, where we could shelter from the worsening seas.
As we motored north, several of us sat on the mid-deck watching in awe as the following waves grew ever bigger. We finally pulled into our last stop in the evening and were treated to very calm waters and a good night’s sleep. We dove Punta Don Juan and saw the requisite octopus, puffers and jaw fish that are quite plentiful on this site. Sadly it was here that our group became less-than-enamored with our dive guide, Peter, who was attempting to grab a puffer by the tail so it would swell up. It’s a shitty gimmick some less-than-ethical dive guides do for tourists that don’t know any better. We were glad he was unsuccessful as he would have gotten an earful from us. In retrospect, he probably should have anyway.
Later that morning, locals showed up in their skiffs to take us snorkeling with whale sharks in the bay. After searching for quite some time, we found about 4 or 5 in one far corner of the bay. The whale sharks are all juveniles typically measuring from 10 to 20 feet. Several of us got some good swims in with the sharks. I had a great experience where I was able to keep up with one as he made a wide circle, eventually acclimating to me and slowing down so I was able to keep up. I raised my head in time to see the skiff captain beckoning us back to the boat. Dark, menacing storm clouds were coming over the mountains to the south and were dumping massive amounts of rain, obscuring everything behind. We beat a speedy, spine-jarring retreat on rough water to the Rocio, where we promptly got underway.
Our trip back to port was an adventure as the following waves grew even bigger than before. Waves were pushing 10 feet overnight. It could have been hellish if we had to head into those swells. Instead we surfed. We went from being banned from the top deck and not allowed to sit on outside furniture to being asked to stay inside unless we were going to our cabins or to the galley. Some of us spent the evening in the salon finishing the last of the beer and wine, watching the empty bottles roll across the floor from side to side as we shared stories and videos from trips past.
Despite losing two days of diving, we still consider it one of the more fun trips we’ve taken. The fact that everyone took it in stride and made the best of it, without any drama, says volumes about our shipmates and why we love traveling and diving with Fin Life. We were glad to meet new friends and get to know a few old ones even better.
Dawn arrived and we were pulling into port, having outrun the storm some time in the wee hours of the morning. Then we waited for the shuttles from Head Out to Rocky Point to take us back north. When we went through customs on the border, the nice officer grilled me with a series of questions: Did I bring back any souvenirs? No. Anything off the beach? No. Any fruits or vegetables? No. Any alcohol? No. Any medications? No. Exasperated, she asked me, “Well, what did you bring back?” I smiled and said, “Just great memories.” She smiled back and cut me loose.