Poso Moreno

“Keep this beach clean. This sea is for everyone. Care for it. We are already living, but the vast majority of people have not even been born yet.”




We put into a little cove, Pozo Moreno (dark well), after a morning of clear skies, calm seas and northwest winds that filled our sails beautifully. We rowed our dinghy in, past a reef lined with pelicans on parade review and onto a shingled shore. Two fishermen were there, working on the motor for their panga (a small, open fishing boat common on the Sea). We asked about places to take a walk. One directed us south, “The road doesn’t go through, you’ll have to come back the same way, but it’s a good walk.”

The road undulated over the hills, graded at some point, but steep enough in spots to be a challenge to any vehicle. The small boulders and scraped rock faces on the inclines would prevent all but those with high suspension and four-wheel drive from getting over. On foot, it was no problem and we had spectacular views of the Sea of Cortez spread out before us, rugged coves below; dusty, cactus-dotted slopes and stark, craggy peaks behind. We passed middens of murex shells. A covey of quail scurried across our path then erupted in a burst of small thunder before resettling in the brush. Far below, just at tide’s edge, the remains of a 60-foot beached whale gave evidence of the Sea’s majestic cycle of life and death.