We flew down the coast of Baja to Scammon's Lagoon, in a small aircraft, piloted by Kevin, a friend of Rose's son (Mike).  It was a surprise when Kevin landed on the beach, beside the Pacific. No runways here, just the wet sand.   It had been a short journey from San Diego to this part of Mexico.

 We came to see the whales.  After setting up camp a few hundred yards from the ocean, the men found a guide (with a truck!) to take us to Scammons.  On the way there, wer noticed there was no official village, just a few homes roadside.  No supermarket.  Just nature.

 We arrived at the lagoon, were greeted by a boatman, one of a very few that day, who took us out.  We sat very still in the small boat and waited for signs of whales. 

 It wasn't long before we saw them,the huge animals, blowing, rolling, shooting up in the air in relative joy.  They were quite near to our boat and could have crushed us at any moment.  Yet they did not menace us, perhaps knowing that we had come to observe and wish them well.  They, in turn, gave us quite a show--a show of power, strength, and tolerance.  There were many whales present, perhaps over 20, showing their delight and command of the water.

 We flew across Baja to refuel on the way home.  John's son, Brian, was given temporary command of the piloting, and he landed us well, though it was a difficult approach we were told.

 We talked about this trip, the camp, the whales, the natural setting, for many years.  Unforgettable.