Grey Whale Trip Report 2026

Magdalena Bay, Baja MX.
February 7 - 12, 2026

 February 8, 2026. Sunday
Day One

We made it to the mouth of the bay where the grey whales spend their time.

There were whales, plenty of them, just not as many as in previous years. Gabino says it’s likely due to the warmer water temperatures this season.

The whales are still here just very spread out. It just makes finding players a little more challenging.

We arrived super early, but now, more boats have begun arriving, we decided to leave the area and try our luck elsewhere. 

At the next spot, we saw several whales, but none of them showed any interest in us. 

No curiosity. No lingering. Just whales moving through their world. It turned into a slow morning.

It’s easy to get spoiled here.

When the whales want to interact, there is nothing more exciting or special. When they don’t, it can feel strangely empty, even though simply seeing a whale is always a gift. 

The interaction is just that… a gift. And when it’s missing, you feel it.

We motored back toward our original area, taking the long way along the coastline to look for coyotes.

We spotted a couple, but not nearly as many as we would during a low-low tide. The water was already rising.

Along the way, we passed a pod of bottlenose dolphins hunting tight to the shoreline. Always a welcome sight.

Back at the mouth of the bay, the place where the best interactions usually happen, the water was glassy and calm. Beautiful. But there were so few whales there.

Perfect conditions. Just no players.

Last season, reports showed that several whales died. Experts believe changing weather patterns affected their food supply, leaving some whales unable to feed properly. Starvation. A hard reality, and one that may explain why we’re seeing fewer whales this year.

It’s terrible to think about.

1:00 PM
A whale finally approached our sister boat. Close enough to touch, but it didn’t stay. It surfaced, gave everyone a brief moment up close, then slipped away.

That’s the thing about encounters like these. You can’t force a whale to want to interact. 

They decide. Always.

Not long after, we finally had our first real interaction.

A pair of whales came in and played beneath our boat for a brief moment. Just enough time to get the camera in the water and capture a few frames. Short. Sweet. Perfect.

I was excited for our guests, grateful they got to experience it.

We had a couple more quick encounters before calling it a day. Nothing prolonged, nothing dramatic.

But it was enough.

A quiet day. A patient day.

And a good ending.

February 9, 2026
Day Two

We departed late today, intentionally. The plan was to stay out after most of the other boats had already headed home, hoping to give the day room to unfold.

In search of magic.

I am hoping to find something more than the brief teaser we got at the end of yesterday.

Today’s weather couldn’t have been better.

Flat calm seas. The kind of calm where the clouds reflect perfectly off the surface of the bay.

 It was stunning, one of those mornings that feels like a gift before anything even happens.

When we reached the mouth of the bay, we found players!

Three flirty whales, rolling and playing around the boats, and with the boats. 

A perfect way to start the day. They gave us countless opportunities to dunk our cameras and capture underwater images as they moved effortlessly beneath us.

Michelle, unfortunately, had camera issues. Damn it.
Not the time you want it to happen, but she rolled with it. 

Topside shooting today, and honestly, the topside stuff was just as good.

We spent over an hour and forty minutes with these whales as they rolled, rubbed, and moved between boats. We were sharing them with other vessels, and the whales seemed perfectly happy about it, swimming from boat to boat, brushing up against hulls, completely in control of the interaction.

They truly are a joy to be around.

Eventually, the whales tired of their games and began swimming again. We followed at a respectful distance, hoping they might stop to play one more time, but they didn’t.

1:00 PM

We spent the last hour searching for more players, but the activity dropped off after our long session with the three whales.

Still, it had been an incredible day.

Everyone had the chance to interact, to photograph, to film, and, most importantly, to experience the beauty and excitement of spending time with these gentle giants. 

Today, everyone felt the magic, and got to understand what makes this place what it is.

That magic is why we come here.

Whales choosing to play with boats and people is something truly special. 

No words really do it justice, the feeling of sharing space with a giant whale that wants to be there stays with you long after the day is over.

What a place… What a whale.

February 10, 2026
Day Three

Today we headed out to Bahía de Almejas for grey whale spy-hopping activity, followed by a visit to the sea lion colony to snorkel with them, and see whatever else Baja’s open ocean might decide to show us.

I only brought a rash guard and board shorts for the swim. It sounds like it’s going to be cold. This should be interesting. 😳

The run out there is long. We’d already been motoring for over an hour and a half and still weren’t there. But that’s usually how it goes, the best places with the best animals are never close. 

Always Worth it.

We arrived to find plenty of whales around, but conditions were bumpier than expected. Yesterday had been glass. Today, not so much.

We had one whale approach and play briefly near the boat, but it didn’t last.

We still managed to snap a few images of the whale. I got a few that I was pretty happy with. 

The rest of the whales we encountered were acting shy.

One of the problems we did have was, even if we did find a player, holding position in the swelly water would’ve been tough.

We moved past the lumpier water and found a more workable area, but the whales just weren’t interested in engaging.

So we left them and headed offshore to the sea lion colony.

There were a lot of juveniles right now, playful and mischievous. The moment we arrived, they swarmed the boat. Spy-hopping. A couple nearly launched themselves at us as if to say, “Hurry up and get in.”

The water was a chilly 77 degrees.

It was cold, but damn, it was fun.

The sea lions zipped around us, under us, mock-charging and blowing bubbles in our faces. Pure chaos. Pure joy. A great way to spend time in the water.

Afterward, we left in search of more wildlife. Baja always keeps you guessing.

We ran into a super pod of common dolphins, always a thrill. 

Common dolphins aren’t easy to film underwater; they tend to dive and vanish the second you enter the water. We decided not to try and just enjoyed them from the boat.

By late afternoon, we returned to port.

A nice day at sea. Not every day is explosive magic, but every day out here gives you something.

February 11, 2026
Day Four

We headed back to the mouth of the bay this morning in search of whales. Activity has been thin. Yesterday our captain’s friends reported that the whales action was light, they are nearly gone from the area. It’s too early for this to be happening.

The die-off has clearly affected the population this season. 

Official reports say more than 30 whales died. Gabino believes it may be closer to 100 across the Baja region. And those are only the ones accounted for. It’s impossible to know how many others were lost along their migration back to feeding grounds.

Despite the numbers, we found a player.

A lone whale came up to the boat and allowed us to touch and interact with it. She was incredibly friendly, rolling gently beside us and giving everyone the kind of Baja magic you dream about when you come here.

I slipped the camera into the water and managed a few shots. 

The clarity was beautiful and the light still low in the sky, soft and forgiving. 

It was a fun, fun morning.

We left early so we had her to ourselves for a while before other boats arrived. 

We sat there watching her, she seemed drawn to the boats with people who had the most squeals of excitement. Rolling, nudging, soaking up the energy.

Eventually we left the show and pushed offshore into open water to see what else the day might offer.

We stopped briefly at a small sea lion colony near a kelp patch known to attract Pacific black sea turtles, but the swells were heavy and crashing hard along the shoreline. Not safe to enter, so we moved on.

About ten miles offshore, we spotted something large floating on the surface.

Gabino thought it might be a dead whale.

As we approached, it became clear that it was. Badly decomposed. Just a large white mass drifting in the open sea. The captain noted it was a male, unmistakable even in that state.

I geared up quickly.

It’s always sad seeing a dead whale, especially right now. But a floating whale becomes part of the ecosystem. It draws life, often sharks. I’ve always wanted to dive beneath a whale carcass to see what might be feeding on it.

After I gave a quick safety briefing, I entered the water first.

Sadly no sharks.

But hundreds of mahi-mahi were schooling around the carcass. We stayed near it for a couple of hours, trying to keep downwind. The smell was overwhelming.

No great white appeared. That dream will have to wait for another day, but its coming, I can feel it.

A couple of sea lions buzzed past the whale. The mahi never left.

It was a heavy moment, seeing this whale adrift while knowing the population is already under strain.

We eventually turned back toward port.

It was a strong trip. We are leaving Baja both happy and sad.

Happy for the magic we were gifted with… Sad for what the grey whales are facing.

Thank you to our friends who joined us on this journey.

And thank you to our friends in San Carlos for hosting us and making this trip special. Until next season.

If you would like to watch our video reports from each day… check out The Wild Minute.