The Log from the Sea of Cortez

by John Steinbeck

Was it a wonder that we collected furiously; spent every low-tide moment on the rocks, even at night? And in the times between low tides we kept the bottom nets down and the lines and dip-nets working. When the charter was up, we would be through. How different it had been when John Xantus was stationed in this very place, Cape San Lucas, in the sixties. Sent down by the United States Government as a tidal observer, but having lots of time, he collected animals for our National Museum. The first fine collections of Gulf forms came from Xantus. And we do not feel that we are injuring his reputation, but rather broadening it, by repeating a story about him. Speaking to the manager of the cannery at the Cape, we remarked on what a great man Xantus had been. Where another would have kept his tide charts and brooded and wished for the Willard Hotel, Xantus had collected animals widely and carefully. The manager said, “Oh, he was even better than that.” Pointing to three little Indian children he said, “Those are Xantus’s great-grandchildren,” and he continued, “In the town there is a large family of Xantuses, and a few miles back in the hills you’ll find a whole tribe of them.” There were giants in the earth in those days. We wonder what modern biologist, worried about titles and preferment and the gossip of the Faculty Club, would have the warmth and breadth, or even the fecundity for that matter, to leave a “whole tribe of Xantuses.” We honor this man for all his activities. ...