Kayaking the remote coast of Mexico’s Baja California Peninsula reveals hidden beaches and wild landscapes | Canada Voices

So far, we had been lucky. El Norte was serving a mere two or three knots each day and the group was relaxed. It had been four days since my phone had made a sound. In that time, we’d seen more rattlesnakes, tarantulas and scorpions than humans. We were caked in salt, sand and sunscreen, and most of us were living in the same clothes we had on when we left. That may sound gross, but travelling by kayak teaches you that you need very little to be happy.

The still-strong November sun reflected on the water and mercilessly roasted any exposed skin, so we wore wide-brimmed hats and pulled our neck buffs up to our sunglasses. We were a gaggle of slow-moving pirates who stopped every few dozen metres to exclaim over a towering sandstone cliff, a fast-moving eagle ray, a furtive turtle or a blue-footed booby. Every afternoon, after we found a spot to camp for the night, I snapped on my snorkel and explore the coral streets of our new neighbourhood. We camped on empty beaches far from any light and noise pollution. We were having the absolute best time. Esta curado!, as the Paceños say. Awesome!

I’m rethinking what it’s like to explore northern England, where nature and industry blend

The Baja California Peninsula is a wild slice of desert sandwiched between the Pacific Ocean and the Sea of Cortez. When Spanish colonizers arrived on the peninsula in the 1500s, they believed it was an island, and Bajacalifornianos still consider themselves geographically and culturally distinct from the rest of Mexico. The peninsula is home to five mountain ranges, a smattering of fishing villages and ranches, and a handful of cities and towns that carry the vestiges of the peninsula’s missionary and mining past. Much of the land is uninhabited. In the 1970s, the government built the transpeninsular highway, which made it easier to travel from Tijuana in the north to Cabo San Lucas in the south. But, even today, some fishing villages are accessible only by boat.

Cabo may be the best-known destination on Baja, but travellers who head north to La Paz and the quieter cities and towns of Loreto, Todos Santos and La Ventana are rewarded. I found La Paz particularly beguiling, with its combination of small-town vibe, rich culinary and cultural heritage, and wide variety of activities. You can walk to Doce Cuarenta coffee shop for a pour-over in the morning, book a tour to swim with whale sharks in La Paz Bay, enjoy a fish taco lunch at El Estadio and then spend the afternoon hiking through a Cardon cactus forest, diving with sea lions, visiting the Museo de Arte de Baja California Sur or cycling the Malecon boardwalk.

The La Paz Tourism Commission reports that visits to La Paz more than doubled between 2023 and 2024. Those who care for its sensitive desert and marine ecosystems – much of the Gulf of California is a UNESCO World Heritage Site – want to develop the tourism industry and keep conservation as a priority. The impact of tourism on the natural environment came up in almost every conversation I had with local residents and tour operators, and I thought about it a lot on our paddle down the coast. Even kayaking and leave-no-trace camping does, of course, leave a trace.

With the weather on our side, we spent less time managing conditions and more time appreciating the landscape change. The desert seemed to shape-shift, sometimes looking like Mars’s barren landscapes, lush Hawaii or Jordan’s deserts. During our paddling breaks, I turned on Fish TV simply by looking over the side of my boat, where needlefish, sergeant majors, angelfish and pufferfish coursed through turquoise waters. We saw dolphins parade along shore and watched pelicans, herons and oystercatchers dive for their lunch. One day our guide, a skilled spear fisherman, swam out for hours and came back with grouper and snapper for dinner. The bounty of the Sea of Cortez, which Jacques Cousteau famously called the aquarium of the world, was on full display.

We ended every day at Baja midnight – a.k.a. 8 p.m. – sitting around a campfire, still feeling the rocking of the waves – and maybe a little tequila – in our bodies. A few hours later, after the night’s first sleep, I’d get up to pee and then spend a few minutes in the warm night looking up at the moon and the constellations that had emerged from behind the mountains. A tent flap would unzip and someone else would wander out. The solemn midnight moments quickly turned into ritual. Over the course of 10 days we watched the moon phase from full Beaver Supermoon to a narrow fingernail hanging in the sky.

Near the end of the trip, we paddled into the tiny fishing village of San Evaristo, running a gauntlet of pelicans to land on the beach. I thought our brightly coloured boats, paddle-powered pirate attire and unshowered musk might cause a commotion, but no one paid us any mind. Fishermen hauled the day’s triggerfish catch to a tent for cleaning. Kids played on the beach. Sardines fled probing pelican beaks. And we just got to watch it all.

If you go

From Cabo San Lucas airport (SJD) take the Autobuses Àguila shuttle to La Paz (autobusesaguila.com) or rent a car. The town of Loreto, which was the starting point for our trip, is a four- to five-hour drive from La Paz. Visit in April or October/November when the weather is cooler.

In La Paz, Indomito 360 (indomito360.com) offers kayak day rentals, guided day trips and longer trips to Espiritu Santo, San Jose Island, as well as the Loreto to La Paz expedition described in this story. The cost for a 13-day expedition-style trip from Loreto to La Paz is approximately $3,230. In Loreto, Sea Kayak Baja Mexico (seakayakbajamexico.com) offers guided day trips as well as the Loreto to La Paz expedition for US$3,399.

La Paz Tourism Commission covered some of the writer’s hotel nights and post-trip activities. It did not review or approve the story before publication.