Amazing Argentina-September 2024 (Part 2-Peninsula Valdes)

Tuesday, September 17, 2024

After decompressing from flight snafus en route to Argentina with several enjoyable days exploring Buenos Aires with photographic guide Bernardo Galimari, today we were off to the wildlife side of Argentina, Peninsula Valdes and hopefully, southern Atlantic right whales (SRW), penguins and sea lions. Peninsula Valdes is a nature reserve and was designated a World Heritage Site in 1999.

Our 2 hour afternoon flight south to Trelew left us enough time for a walk in the Botanical Garden, a few blocks away from the hotel.  It is an oasis of lush greenery, with towering trees and luxuriant vines, punctuated with classical statuary.

Adriana (Basques, our leader and holder of the mandatory permit) and Hector Caisin (representing the Argentine government) welcomed us to Patagonia at the airport.  Our two hour drive to Puerto Piramides was enhanced by the glow of the rising full moon,.

We had dinner at the hotel, El Paradiso, lamb stew for me and fish of the day for the others.

Wednesday, September 18, 2024

Today was our first day on the water, Golfo Nuevo or New Gulf.  The bulbous eastward projection of Peninsula Valdes forms a protected body of water in which SRWs can mate, give birth and nurture their calves. This year, a record number of 1468 SRWs were identified on the yearly survey.  Sadly, 71 deaths were also recorded, including 18 adults and 53 calves.

Adriana (“not a morning person” ) generally prefers to head out at 10 am.  The sun peeked intermittently through the clouds.

We immediately encounter a white “albino” baby whale, but with whale watching boats in the vicinity, we headed further out into the gulf.

But first, we had a chance to photograph a local sea lion colony.

Adriana accompanied us into the water for our first in-water forays, with Greg going first.  His first ventures were a series of quick fly-bys.  My first encounter was much closer-a whale practically under the boat, eye to eye, in touching distance.  I was so buoyant in my brand new 7 mm Henderson wetsuit, it was tough to get my feet down and I was hard pressed to maneuver in the water.  Adriana had instructed us to stay close together at all times and never to turn one’s back to the whale.  These instructions sometimes worked at cross purposes as the whales frequently turn.  The key evidently is to start backing up as soon as the eye passes, as the potentially dangerous tail swiftly follows and even a baby whale’s tail is enormous and capable of  inflicting grave injury.  We are at potential risk from a curious baby,  with less control over their movements.

In the morning, I was pleasantly surprised that I was reasonably comfortable in my suit.  It is a semi-dry, with double layers at the wrists and ankles and difficult to don, but its design limits the amount of water which enters.  Conversely, since we are out on the boat all day without bathroom facilities, it means there is little alternative to peeing in the suit or holding it all day.  By the end of the day, I was sore from straining against the suit, which is further filled out by a newly acquired heated vest, which has heating coils supplied by two bulky batteries which fit against my rib cages.  Lifting my land camera up to shoot from the boat was strenuously resisted by the suit, even turning my head was an effort, constrained by a thick hood.  To keep my hair dry, Adriana offered me a bathing cap (like women used to wear in pools in the 1950s) to wear under the hood.  Greg and I were rendered virtually helpless by our double layer dry gloves, which Hector and Captain Jorge (“Pollo”) helped us don.  For the first time in, Greg wore one with the latex seal applied against his skin, and other layered between the wetsuit’s two wrist seals, quickly learning that the dry option requires the latex seal against the skin, the more difficult to arrange of the two possible positions. Once in these gloves, we are as helpless as children, although the warmth and manual dexterity offered for operating the camera is the offset.

The afternoon and the cold were a different story.  Greg commented as he went in “The water feels colder now!”  I had to agree, at least at first.  By now, I was also wearing a weight belt, which added to my feeling of breathlessness.  Later, when I was in the water without Adriana, I wore her ankle weights instead, which was much more comfortable.  Maybe we felt the cold more because we were in the water.  At one point, Adriana and I were blocked from returning to the boat by a SRW right next to the boat, so close Hector, the Captain and Greg on board were taking selfies of themselves with whales in the background.

In the morning , I had felt comfortable enough to to switch on the heated vest only intermittently, just for a minute or two, at “1”, the lowest setting.  But by the afternoon, both Greg and I were cranking up the vest to new heights, enough to run out of battery by the day’s end. The YouTube video I watched after purchasing the vest, featuring a burly dive shop owner reviewing the product, mentioned that neither he or nor his divemasters ever felt the need for the maximal “3” setting in 40 degree water!.

Adriana contracts with a local woman (Laura, called Lala) to supply lunch boxes.  Today’s contained two excellent corn quiches, large enough that most ate just one.  The chocolate and oatmeal cookies which appeared later were scrumptious.

Dinner was at La Estacion, which was closed when we arrived the night before.  Tonight, it was bustling with families.  I enjoyed a giant steaming mound of large, head-on grilled shrimp, which required slippery finger work to extract. Greg and Hector went for the pasta offerings.  Adriana stayed back at the hotel with work needing her attention.

Thursday, September 19, 2024

We awoke to a drippy and gray Puerto PIramides, with wind and rain.  Snails were ensconced on the restaurant door at breakfast.  Our departure for the water was pushed back to midday at the earliest.

Ultimately, instead of going out on the water, I met Hector and Greg at 3 pm for a hike from the hotel, down to the boat launch, up onto the cliffs backing the town, to the dunes behind and finally down to the low tide exposed beach to sea caves and algea encrusted rocks and back, almost 4 hours and 6.6 miles.  It was sunny and crisp by then.  I flew the drone from the ridge.  When I was landing it, concentrating on hand catching it, Hector and Greg began exclaiming, watching a dog chase a rabbit on the perilous cliffs across from us.

At dinner at La Covacha, I enjoyed a local specialty, arroz con mariscos.

Friday, September 20, 2024

Plans were formed, only to be rearranged hours later as the forecast for wind changed constantly. As we drove south to Doradillo, an armadillo crossed the road.  I stalked a fox in the parking lot. Adriana calls Doradillo the “parade of whales”.  Indeed, SRWs were sighted up and down, just off the beach, which was lined with bundled-up spectators.

Afterwards, we drove further south to Puerto Madryn.  The resident flamingos were not too numerous, intensely pink or particularly close.  We had lunch on the water and dinner back at the hotel.

Saturday, September 21, 2024

Conditions for going out on the water today were not too favorable, so we drove north to a Magellenic penguin colony.  A large group of tourists was expected at 11 am, so we left early, in order to have the colony to ourselves for a while and to beat the group to lunch.  On the drive, we spotted guanacos and a nesting pair of variable hawks (Geranoaetus polyosoma).

Down at the beach, I flew the drone briefly, despite it being windy and chilly.

Lunch was at the San Lorenzo estancia (lamb, salad, bread and flan).  A pair of skittish burrowing owls flew off as soon as a car door was opened.  Greg saw movement in the bushes and his first thought was “deer”.  That thought was vetoed by Adriana:  “There are no deer in Patagonia.”  It turned out to be a large local rabbit called a mara.  Of course, we had fun with faux “deer” sightings for the rest of the trip.

At Punta Norte,  elephant seals had arrived on the beach since the prior week.

The male tried to mate with all the females in his harem, including one that appeared pregnant.

Four babies could be seen, sometimes nursing.

A sea lion was surfing.  American oyster catchers and seagulls were also on the beach.

Armadillos were spotted in the parking lot, although remained elusive for photography.

We had pizza for dinner, at El Origen, which we SO tasty,  we all had 3 pieces!

Sunday, September 22, 2024

Despite less than optimal conditions, we went out on the water today.  Adriana and Hector monitor “el prognistico” constantly and with 5 water days to go and 6 remaining days, choices must be made.  Adriana: “Unless the port is closed, we’re going!”  We headed out of the harbor to the left to an area whose orientation afforded some protection from the wind.  To get there, we took a pounding.

Adriana loaned me her ankle weights.  Greg and I enter the water several times.  The first time, we got into a group of three, including an alarmingly inquisitive calf, which prompted our retreat back into the boat.  Adriana: “Too lively!”

 

Our next few passes were hit and miss, some close, but transient.  We joked that pulling off our gloves, masks or fins signaled the whales to appear.

 

Eventually, we took shelter from the wind, anchoring in a small cove, and munched our lunch of ham, cheese, tomato and pesto empanadas, with lemon cookies with jam centers.

We were slowly making our way back towards the port, the ride much more comfortable, when we encountered an exciting frenzy of activity: a mating group, the southern Atlantic right whale equivalent of a heat run among humpback whales. A white-bellied female was pursued by 4, maybe 5 males, with a gray male consistently in the lead and (we thought) the eventually successful suitor. The female repeatedly turned belly up toward the sky to avoid mating.   As Adriana pointed out, since the males work together to flip the female into position to mate, there is an uncomfortably analogy to a gang rape situation.

I tried twice to film this with the drone but encountered a sticky situation where the bird climb to a height from which it would not budge.  I had ignored an injunction to log in when flying at the penguin colony.  Greg and I guessed after the second time that the drone was being geofenced.  We managed to recover it by bringing the boat into closer range but it was touch and go recovering it on the pitching boat.

On our return, Hector mentioned we were invited to a BBQ.  Adriana told us this was a delayed birthday celebration for Hector.  We picked up wine on the way to contribute, including Otro Loco Mas, a wine from Malbec our BA guide Bernardo had mentioned as a reliable, inexpensive option ($5).  We recognized it from the logo, which features a face which can turns sad when the bottle is empty and turned upside down.  Hector’s longtime colleagues and friends, Claudio (who we met the prior day at San Lorenzo estancia), Luis, Gustavo and Sebastian, had reserved a motel’s function room with a kitchen and welcomed us.  Sebastian tended a variety of meats and sausage (chorizo) over an open flame in a huge fireplace, including more exotic organ meats (rinones (beef kidney, best eaten hot, Hector advised ), tripa gorda (beef large intestine) , corazon (beef heart) and chichulin (small intestine).  With a bread roll, I made a version of chori-pan with the chorizo sausage.

We arrived at the party at 8:30 pm and it went on strong until midnight.

Monday, September 23, 2024

We started our day with a leisurely late start, strolling down to the waterfront to the Jorge Schmid dive center for an immersive auditory sound experience, created by hydrophone recordings obtained over the years by Claudio.  In a darkened room, we were surrounded by speakers, with the recordings, accompanied by music,  evoking a dive, from the trailer backing a boat into the water, to the sounds of southern right whales to orcas to dusky dolphins.  The chocolate and orange cookie we sampled afterwards was so exceptional that Greg bought out the remaining stock (both of them), which we later consumed in the truck.

Lunch was down in town at El Viento Viene (The Wind Comes), a cute cafe and shop with enormous sandwiches on homemade bread, accompanied by lemonade, not too sweet, with ginger and mint.

Adriana, Greg and I decided to walk back to the hotel.  Passing a sign board of three penguins with cut-outs for our faces, and with no passersby in sight to help, we were stymied trying to figure our how to do a group selfie from behind the board.  A young man laden with two full grocery bags who came along was too burdened to ask for assistance, but he kindly volunteered, coming to our collective rescue and did the photographic honors.

Late afternoon, we drove  towards the Salinas, Grande and Chico.

Along the way, we encountered burrowing owls, one of which flew out from its nest in a bush on the ground to perch on fence posts which, thankfully, were closer to us.  Burrowing owls are so skittish that Hector drove slowly down the road, to allow us to exit the vehicle and crouch in the bed of the truck, after which he slowly drove us back into range of the owl.

After our precautions trying to keep the owl from taking off, Greg and I could barely keep from bursting out laughing when Adriana’s voice came clearly through the back window of the truck:  “Do you see the other one in the bush?”  Greg:  “She’s not using her inside voice.”

Beyond the turnoff to Salina Chica, we found numerous maras and a huge rabbit.  A small group of maras proved to be a family, with two tiny babies closely applied to the mother.  A pair of juveniles bounding into proximity made the babies tumble into view.

We beat the crowd for dinner at La Estacion.  Argentines, even families with children, eat late.  The restaurant was packed when we left.  I elected the sorrentino pasta (mushroom and ricotto stuffed) with seafood sauce, which proved to be a voluminous quantity of food. We all enjoyed a cocktail new to us, cynar julup.  Cynar is an artichoke liquor, which sounds weird, but this translated as an herbaceous taste, not unlike amaro.

Tuesday, September 24, 2024

This incredible day started with a successful drone flight over a mating group.  Greg helped me get on to the hotel’s wonky Internet the night before, to log in, a new requirement apparently. I ran out of storage on the SD card in the drone before the action was over, but by then, I had plenty of footage and photos.

We had a few whale encounters before making the long (40 minutes) run to a lobería (sea lion colony) accessible only by permit.

As soon as the boat stopped, a welcoming committee of inquisitive sea lions swam out from their triangular rocky shoreline perch to greet us. Adriana joined us in the water, which was a mob scene: sea lions darting around and among us, jostling us, nudging our dome ports.

We stayed until the cold crept in, probably 40 minutes.

More whales were encountered as we made our way back towards Puerto Piramides.

Adriana had an upset stomach and bowed out of dinner and Hector had an engagement with friends, so Greg and I walked into town to El Origen, where we shared a caesar salad (minus the chicken) and a pizza, divided between two new flavor combinations, one with roquefort, mozzarella and walnuts and the other with tomato sauce and capers.

Wednesday, September 25, 2024

Today is Argentina’s National Day of Whales (El Dia National de las Ballenas).  The southern right whale is featured on the 200 peso note (roughly 2 cents at this writing), symbolic if not monetary evidence of its importance to Argentina’s national identity.

Captain Jorge is also mayor of Puerto Piramides, so was presiding over the day’s festivities.  Quiqui, who we met each morning at the beach driving the tractor which pushes the boat into the water, drove the boat today. He owns one of the dive shops in town.

We had another incredible day today.

It started later, at noon, as we planned to stay out to shoot as the sun set.  In the afternoon , we finally had almost “plachado” seas, with smooth surfaces (apparently related to the Spanish verb, planchar, to iron). This is a running joke with Adriana and Hector, as Clark (Adriana’s husband) who accompanied her on a previous trip, misheard this as “clam chowder’. Not that the visibility was much improved-we still had green murk, despite trying further out for clearer water.  Greg and I did spend nearly an hour with a curious and cooperative mother and calf pair.  The calf circled around and around us, sometimes appearing right beneath us, causing us to back peddle and me to scream into my snorkel occasionally, much to Greg’s amusement.  Today I traded out the 7 mm neoprene Yazbeck socks and Steve’s snorkel fins for my new Fourth Element neoprene SCUBA booties and my SCUBA fins.  Adriana stayed out of the water, so I was able to use her ankle weights.  I also tried her 5 mm neoprene Waterproof gloves.  My gloves are also neoprene, but much harder to don, not having zippers as the Waterproof gloves do.

I also flew the drone over another mother and calf pair, who were soon joined by a third whale, probably a male.

Our sunset shoot was not graced by whale breaches or even tail slapping or “cola” (tails).

Back at the hotel, I was in for a half hour of strenuous exercise, freeing myself in a hot shower from layer after layer needing to be rinsed and then dried as much as possible. I felt like a farmer tending crops, wringing out what water as I could from gear hanging all over the bathroom and the room, rotating them near the heater, trying to speed the drying.  Dinner was at 8:30 pm in the Paradise Hotel’s restaurant.  I opted again for a steaming bowl of arroz con mariscos.

Thursday, September 26, 2024

Jorge took us out on the boat today.  Yesterday, there was an accident at the beach, in which someone was run over by one of the giant tractors used to transport boats to and from the water.

It was sunny, with flat “planchado” or clam chowder waters, seemingly auspicious.

Unfortunately, the water wasn’t much more clear and our encounters were not extended.  Both of us were struck by how much colder, if possible, the water felt.

These auspicious conditions did not last long.

While we were admiring the antics of a white calf leaping acrobatically from the sea, over and over again, pectoral fin slapping and seeming to do everything in its repertoire to keep us from leaving, we planned to head to the lobería for another outing with the sea lions. The wind picked up and the boat strained against it.  After progressing only halfway, it was decided that it would be better to try the following day.  We had to content ourselves with a surfeit of crispy and marvelous chocolate chunk, walnut and oat cookies which Lala had provided that day.

More comfort food was consumed in abundance that evening at El Origen, the pizza joint: two pizzas with four different combinations of ingredients, a Caesar salad for Greg and me, a pitcher of lemonade and Frenet Branca and coke for Greg and Cynar and soda for me.

And then, we made a tactical error.  We’d been invited to an event hosted by a French singer named Yasmine, who Adriana had met during the preceding trip at the local premiere of a movie filmed in the area and featuring Claudio and other local boat drivers and guides, El Senor de las Ballenas.  We didn’t really know what to expect but since Yasmine is a singer, we thought maybe this was a concert, part of the Dia National de las Ballenas festivities.

What followed was 2 hours of a strange touchy feely presentation, complete with with respiratory exercises. Especially memorable were when Yasmine, through a microphone, exhaled forcefully, drawing in her abdominal muscles dramatically, imitating the whales.   She talked a lot but didn’t sing much, except for opening and closing numbers of Isn’t She Lovely? and You Are So Beautiful, accompanied by video and still shots of SRW borrowed from other people.  Evidently, she is a yearly whale watcher and has never been in the water with the whales.  The evening was somewhat akin to a cult indocrination, although all of the attendants obviously were already whale enthusiasts.   Poor Greg had the worst of it, since he doesn’t speak Spanish.  Yasmine speaks Spanish fluently and for me, I looked at it as a free Spanish lesson.  I had no trouble understanding her, since Spanish is also a secondary language for her.

Hector did not make the mistake Adriana, Greg and I did.  After 5 minutes, he bolted.  He had strategically positioned himself close to the door.  We were walking distance to the hotel and Hector met us there when we finally escaped.

Hector:  “Two hours!”

Friday, September 27, 2024

Today was our last full day in Peninsula Valdes and our last day on the water.  We were hoping that today would be the day auspicious conditions came together and we were overjoyed that it (mostly) did, with “clam chowder” flat, planchado seas, better visibility (still not great but definitely improved) and very close and prolonged, encounters.

The day started with an extended encounter with a mother and calf.

The calf was inquisitive enough that we had to retreat back onto the boat but were quickly back in.

Dusky dolphins, attracted by our beating fins on the water’s surface (opposite strategy of whale encounters) came around twice, albeit briefly.

We had an amazing afternoon at the lobería, the rarely visited sea lion colony.

 

Adriana joined us in the water.  She and Greg were adopted by a baby sea lion who draped itself over them, even sat in Adriana’s lap and returned repeatedly. The sea lions mobbed me, pushing their snouts onto the dome.

Even the sunset on the return was dialed up to dazzling effect.  Claudio joined us for dinner at La Estacion, where I had a final helping of arroz con mariscos.

Saturday, September 28, 2024

Our travel day was capped off by a quick turnaround in BA for a late dinner.  Originally, we had booked a return flight from Trelew which would have arrived in BA’s domestic airport with just enough time to transfer to the international airport to fly out the same night. But, the best laid plans…are bound to be adjusted by the airlines.  With a month to go, we received notice that Aerolineas Argentina had changed us to flying out later, from a closer airport, PMY (Puerto Madryn). Flying to the US the same night was no longer an option.  I had wanted to, in order to make it back to NY the morning of Steve’s birthday, but that was now off the table.

American Airlines was kind to me, switching me to the same nonstop night flight the following day and only charging me a $40 change fee. Greg did not get off so easily.  If he wanted to fly out the next night, United wanted $1250. If he waited two days, the fee would be $345.  He elected to stay two extra days in BA.

The upside of this flurry of changes was another chance to sample BA’s culinary scene  and to take Adriana out to thank her for organizing such an amazing experience. Thus, after a very short turn around in BA, we indulged in a multi-course seafood meal at 10 pm at Crizia, within walking distance of the Miravida Soho.  The wine pairing was a glass too many, enough so that the following morning, the thought of an afternoon wine tasting (previously arranged at the hotel) did not sound at all appealing.

Sunday, September 29, 2024

Today was Steve’s birthday, spent by him on a Jetblue flight to NYC.  I had planned to leave BA in time to make it into NYC this morning, but Aeolineas Argentina had other plans for us, changing our return flight to BA to later in the day, so that we couldn’t make it out the same day.  AA was kind to me, only charging $40 to change to the same flight a day later. but United (despite his 1K status) had other plans for Greg, leading him  to stay 2 more nights in BA rather than fork over more than $1250 to fly home one day later.

Adriana was gone in the morning when I had my final medialuna croissant downstairs.  Greg was across the street at Scarlett’s sampling their pastries.  We walked Palermo, finding ourselves in a street fair, where Greg bought us fresh Tshirts for the trip home from a woman who taught  anatomy at a hospital in BA for 13 years.

Despite not really feeling it in the morning, we did enjoy our guided wine tasting with Sandra at 2 pm, down the stairs at the hotel in a dedicated room.

We spent the late afternoon strolling through the nearby zoo.  Peacocks were meandering around and maras were abundant, ironically much closer than we had strained to photograph in the wild with our 400 mm lenses.  A mara with a baby was literally a few feet from us, separated only by a natural agave hedge.

I had an interesting conversation with my Uber driver Daniel on the way to the airport.  He confirmed what Jorge had said about how difficult a life doctors have in Argentina, saying the men who pump gas into vehicles at service stations (like in New Jersey, you can’t pump your own gas) make a salary comparable to doctors.  He mentioned he had an uncle who was a plastic surgeon who practiced in Santiago, Chile for that reason.

Astrid kept me company on the ride home.  This French television show had been mentioned to me in the context of “If you liked the Extraordinary Attorney Woo (I loved this Korean television series, including her whale obsession), you would like this French program, Astrid (titled in Britain, Astrid: Murder in Paris)”.  Like the extraordinary Attorney Woo, Astrid is autistic and has a photographic memory, which is employed as an archivist and investigator for the police in solving unusual crimes.

We had such a great time on this expedition that wasn’t long after returning home that Greg and I were plotting a return.  Surprisingly, Steve still is disinclined to join us on this cold water adventure.  We’re all already scheduled on a dive trip to New Guineau in 2025 during the season, so we’re looking at 2026 and hoping for better visibility to accompany incredible encounters.  We had a chance to compare notes with Margi and Eric, who accompanied Adriana immediately before our arrival, when they came down in November to see our joint exhibition in November at the Photographer’s Eye gallery in Escondido.  They definitely lucked out with better visibility.  Looking back at the images, I am still in shock and awe, recalling how, at times, we could be just a few feet from the rostrum of a SRW, poking out of the water, while barely being able to see the enormous attached body below the surface!