THE KALEIDOSCOPIC SEA

From the journal of Gordon, first American resident of La Bocana. 1963

In Baja the sea was our theatre.

Recurrent inbound fog engulfed the bay, rising over cliffs and up the mountain side. Sea and merged indistinguishable. Fog cascaded over the mountain back of the Port like a massive waterfall. Wind-blown clouds cast moving shadows at sea. Shafts
of light, pouring through breaks in the clouds, illumined strips
of water near the horizon.

The bay reflected the rosy colors of dawn. At twilight, the sun, setting in mist, cast a pale-orange, Monet light on the water. On fog-free days, boats, rocks and whitecaps were as sharply defined as a Winslow Homer.

Violent winter storms drove waves against the rocks.

The outer sea was an opaque green with whitecap highlights.
Close to the rocks the bay was seething foam. In the summer,
the bay sparkled and the surf was quiet. Late one summer after noon, the setting sun struck widespread kelp beds. The kelp leaves in the wind and the ocean flashed with golden light. Rainbow spectrums appeared in spray blown laterally along the wave tops by a north wind.

V-shaped formations of pelican flew over the point at twilight hovering over the schools of anchovy below. Their dive was comical hodge-podge of wings, feet and joints spread in all directions. They hit the water with a splash that stunned the fish. Their dive was comical hodge-podge of wings, feet and joints spread in all directions. They hit the water with a splash that stunned the fish.

Submitted by Margery Buck.