The Star Princess’ last port stop is Cabo San Lucas. We dropped anchor before sunrise. I got up, ordered room service coffee and sat on our port balcony to watch the pink then fiery red glow break through wispy clouds, with Cabo’s signature Los Arcos in the background. (Pax in starboard cabins looked out at Cabo’s attractive marina, the permanent and temporary home to some drop dead gorgeous yachts.) I kept hearing a strange barking sound in the distance—it finally hit me: seals! The water carried the sound quite a distance from their home on "Seal Rock" by the arches all the way to the ship. My husband soon joined me on the balcony—he said the seal roosters had awakened him.

The first tender announcement was early—I believe they were on schedule for the 7:00 a.m. departure. When we went to the designated lounge around 8:30 a.m., there were maybe a dozen people waiting, and within 5 minutes, all present were issued boarding tickets and herded directly to board a waiting tender. The ride to the dock takes less than 10 minutes.

We took a water taxi to Lover’s Beach and then had a delicious lunch at the Whale Watchers bar at the top of the Finisterra Hotel—the views were incredible. Here are a few shots from our day. Here’s the blow-by-blow account:

When you arrive at the marina, vendors offering goods, tours and water taxis swarm around you—it’s a little overwhelming. It pays to know exactly what you want to do and how much you’re willing to spend to do it. My husband struck a deal for a roundtrip water taxi ride plus snorkeling gear for four to Lover’s Beach for $48 USD. The going "list" for the water taxi ride alone is $10 per person, and the starting ask for snorkeling gear is $8 per person. The first vendor with whom we dealt changed the terms midstream, and we saw the same thing happen to another guy who returned from Lover’s Beach without his receipt so was unable to prove the deal he had made. Be firm and clear about the terms, get your agreement reduced to an itemized receipt, and hang onto your receipt! You can pay upfront (cash or credit card) or leave an ID or cruise keycard and pay when you return. We did the latter, no problem.

Note that the price is no different for a water taxi (which is nothing more than a little wooden tub) and a glass-bottomed boat, but they strongly recommend against the glass-bottomed boat if you plan to get off at Lover’s Beach. Now that we’ve done it, I suspect it has something to do with their desire not to break the glass every tenth time they attempt a landing at Lover’s Beach.

The snorkeling gear doled out by the dock vendors is flotsam and jetsam, and they aren’t pulling the mouthpieces out of a sterilization bottle. If that turns you off, or if you are serious about snorkeling here, bring your own equipment. I had decided not to pack and carry our own gear for these few minutes testing the waters off Lover’s Beach. I didn’t regret it, but if you’re an avid teen or adult snorkeler, definitely bring your own stuff, and better, go out with a guide who will show you the best underwater sights in the short time allotted. Read on, and you’ll understand why I say that.

The water taxi ride from the marina out to the promontory known as Los Arcos is a short, choppy one. Lifejackets are not offered, but they’ll drag ‘em out from under the seats if you ask for them. Note that getting in the boat from the dock requires a big step down into a small, rocking boat, and on return, it’s a big step up and out. There are men to assist, but it takes some physical strength and balance to manage the transfer. There’s a lot of rock ‘n roll during the ride due to boat chop and moderate swells, as well, so anyone who suffers motion sickness who’s not already on the pills or patch should take precautions to avoid seasickness. There is one final hazard if you want to get off the boat at Lover’s Beach. The surf is so rough that the boat operator can’t really beach the boat. So when the boat pulls in as close as it can, a couple of boat handlers waiting on the beach rush to try to steady it and offer you a hand as you climb up and out over the bow and unceremoniously jump or fall to the beach…or, in the majority of cases, into the shallow waves—hopefully without dropping your personal belongings in the water. The lesson is: before you arrive at Lover’s Beach, remove any footwear you don’t want to get wet, and organize your stuff so you can either toss it safely to the beach or jump off with it intact. Believe it or not, while you’re still trying to right yourself from the abrupt disembarkation, and all the while brushing off sand and spitting salt spray, those guys stick their hands under you nose and practically demand a tip. We were so offended by their approach, we kept walking, but we were, of course, grateful for their help and had our bills ready to extend on the return end of the adventure.

Didn’t I make the water taxi ride sound fun?! It really is…but clearly, it’s not for everyone. Don’t despair if you can’t or shouldn’t take the water taxi. There are plenty of large, easy-to-board and ride tourist boats shuttling travelers out to the arches ‘round the clock.

I keep talking about the arches, but there are pelicans and the seal colony to see, as well, and if you want, your water tour can include a trip around the tip of Los Arcos to see the junction of the Sea of Cortez and the Pacific Ocean. This is a place of raw, natural beauty at its best. However, don’t be misled by the vendors’ elaborate descriptions of the "tour" and all of the sights. There’s not that much to linger over and view, and the mildly turbulent water conditions are not ideal for idling in a boat, especially when exacerbated by the heavy boat traffic caused when hundreds of cruise ship pax vie to see Los Arcos within the few hours’ span of this abbreviated port day.

Now that you’ve made it to the famed Playa del Amor, what do you do? First thing, apply maximum-protection sunscreen and hydrate yourself from the water bottle you remembered to pack—I can’t think of a place where I’ve felt the intensity of the sun’s rays to the degree I did on the Pacific side of the beach. Then, walk between the stark, towering rock formation to the Pacific shore, where huge and unpredictable waves greet your arrival. You’ll marvel over how footprints way up high in the sand, far from the waterline you now see, are erased within minutes. Swimming is definitely not recommended, although some brave (foolhardy?) souls inevitably ease farther and farther out into the surf and then struggle out flailing and sputtering, looking a bit sheepish compared to their earlier display of bravado.

Just when you think you have the timing and depth of the waves’ encroachment figured out, a wild one unexpectedly crashes and rolls in, right to your feet…or worse. Our 12-year-old daughter turned her back on the waves to adjust her new digital camera, and you guessed it, a giant swell swamped her and the camera! Luckily, she’s okay. The camera’s toast. (By incredible coincidence, at that moment, my husband was trying out the digital video camera on his latest toy, the credit card-sized Casio Exilim, and while panning from our son over to our daughter, he got the whole incident on tape. Her recorded reaction to the unexpected wave shower is probably worthy of one of those "funniest home videos" shows.)

We could’ve hung out here longer, but we had set a return time for pick-up by the taxi to keep us moving through the short port day, so we walked back over to the Cabo side of the beach to give the snorkeling a whirl. Our daughter doesn’t snorkel, so she stayed behind with our backpacks and watched the non-stop circus of folks being dumped out of and spilling back into their water taxis. The enormous rocks shade a large area for those who want to relax out of the sun.

The boat driver had said the best snorkeling was around "Pelican Rock" (it’s a popular place with divers, too—Cabo features some interesting sandfalls below), so getting over there—maybe 100 yards from Lover’s Beach—was our goal. In fact, the father-son duo who rode over in the same water taxi with us asked to be picked up at the rocks. However, I could quickly see we were never going to make it. First, it was not that easy to don our gear with the strong waves continuously rolling over us as we sat on the beach trying to adjust face masks and flipper straps. Second, once we finally got moving, we were maybe 50 feet out when our son started complaining water was leaking into his mask. He’s snorkeled a number of times with no problem, so we took his complaint seriously. After both my husband and I worked at it without resolution, I finally said, let’s exchange masks, and the switch seemed to do the trick—for him. Sure enough, the blasted mask was leaking from some unseen point of origin. But I was determined to keep going and try to see something, so off we went again.

We saw a few schools and assorted single fish—little variety or color—but no vegetation and minimal coral formations. The water began to clear of sandy silt the farther we got away from the boat launch, but the bouncing up and down from the constant chop made it difficult to keep a clear line of vision. We had to continually fight the drift from the heavy push of the waves, which threatened to shove us into the boulders lining this part of the coastline. Plus, it was brisk—not entirely unpleasant, but not altogether comfortable, either. I could see our son’s lips were blue and wondered if mine looked the same? All in all, this was work—especially for the little guy—with very marginal return, nothing like the lazy, multicolored fishes-in-your-face snorkeling we so love in the Caribbean. My husband and I were separately calculating the time and remaining distance to travel. When I said I thought we should turn back, I got no argument.

The boat handlers were yelling "Esperanza I" while we were still re-packing gear and toweling off. Note that you can arrange your pick-up for any time you wish, giving you the flexibility to stay 30 minutes or 3 hours. I’d guess you could even re-negotiate your pick-up time, as the taxis are continually making the loop—you just have to "[ride] with the one that brung ya."

We noodled over to Pelican Rock, and while we searched for the father and son, our driver threw in some bait to draw fish to the top. We could see the fish life was more abundant and interesting here, but it was still very choppy and crowded with snorkelers, divers and boats darting in and out. We hauled the young boy into the boat with no problem, but getting his dad back in was tough, as there was only the tiniest margin of beach without rocks for the boat to point into for a few safe seconds. It took 4-5 tries and the helpful push of a sympathetic onlooker. They said they saw a lot and had fun.

In sum, I’d advise serious snorkelers to go out with their own gear on a dedicated snorkeling tour. We saw some kayaks tied off at Pelican Rock—a kayak/snorkel combo sounds like it’d be fun, but we kayak at home, and it can be a darn good upper body and aerobic workout in even moderate waters. I’m pretty sure I could not have kayaked the roundtrip from the harbor to Pelican Rock under the rough conditions we experienced without feeling totally wiped out for the next 24 hours!

Back at the marina, we recovered our cruise keycard held as security, paid our bill and began walking the long boardwalk up to the cut-through to Marina Boulevard, which is lined with shops and restaurants. Everyone was thirsty and in need of a carbo boost. I had read about the spectacular views from the top of the Finisterra ("Land’s End") Hotel, so suggested that as our next stop with the idea we’d go and spend 30 minutes taking in the views and getting something to drink. I screwed up by not having the location mapped out—as it turned out, the Finisterra was located on top of the hill directly behind the marina vendors, so if you want to visit, ask directions immediately when you disembark from the ship’s tender, as it’s a very short and direct walk from there. It took us 10 minutes to double back via Marine Boulevard. We walked by a stunning imported gourmet food emporium on the way—it would’ve held its own in any international city.

The driveway from Marina Boulevard up to the hotel is long and nearly vertical. Just as we approached, a hotel tram descended the hill and then u-turned to go back up—the driver asked if we were going to the hotel, and we hopped aboard. The shuttle’s sole function is to transfer guests to from street level—it doesn’t take them to town.

The Finisterra is considered among the finest properties in Cabo San Lucas, primarily because of its coveted perch at the top of a ridge providing panoramic views of the Pacific, the blunt end of Los Arcos, the marina and the city. The clean and open architectural design of the hotel towers, which are carved out of the cliff, and expansive lobby and other public areas give the property a striking appearance, and there’s an impressive 8-story palapa covering the bar at the beach and attractive freeform pool area. However, it’s not Ritz-Carlton elegant or a pretentious place. There are some shots of celebrity guests on a wall, the most prominently featured of which are of Keith Richards’ wedding to supermodel Patti Hansen (for you trivia buffs, it was in 1983 and Mick was the best man, and yes, they’re still married). I saw a sign indicating a portion of the property was available on a time-share basis and panicked. But we weren’t approached once—saved, no doubt, by the fact that our still-wet heads and casual clothes didn’t make us look like desirable prospects.

Actually, we never felt out of place. This is a beach resort after all, and there were plenty of folks walking around in swim cover-ups and tees and shorts. The bellman warmly greeted us when we approached, and the concierge who directed us to the Whale Watchers bar couldn’t have been more gracious. We went up the elevators to the top, over a bridge connecting the towers and paused to snap a few shots from the first lookout point over the city. From there, we took a stairway up to the bar and related restaurant. There were bathrooms strategically located outside the entrance, and we took advantage of the opportunity to do a little spit and polish before we found the primo spot on the outside patio of the bar. It was about 11:30 a.m., and for most of our stay, we were the only ones there.

The vistas were awesome! If you checked out the pix referenced at the beginning of this report, the pool and two cityscape shots were taken from the Whale Watchers bar. Despite its name, we didn’t see any whales while at the bar, but the Pacific was right there for the watching, positively sparkling in front of a totally deserted beach. I could tell my husband was suitably impressed with this find—he had been oohing and aahing from the moment we arrived—so much so that he kicked back and agreed we should hang out here and enjoy lunch. That’s a biggie from the guy who likes to eat what he’s paid for on board, which tells you what a special feel we got just being there. So, my husband had some muy delicioso chicken fajitas (for a surprisingly reasonable $8.50 USD—all of the prices were quite moderate), our daughter enjoyed a chicken breast sandwich, our son had his standard bean burritos and I had some of the best tacos de pescado (fish tacos) I’d ever tasted, washed down with the perfect margarita. Life doesn’t get any better than that!

Service was friendly and capable, but manana-time slow. We didn’t much care, except by the time we finished and paid up, we realized we didn’t have more than 30 minutes left to "do" Cabo and any "last port" shopping. Only our daughter expressed a specific shopping wish—she wanted a Senor Frog’s tee shirt. The bellman told us there was no Senor Frog’s in Cabo, but we could go to Carlos ‘n Charlies. He hailed us a cab, and off we went. It’s located on Marina Boulevard about a 5-minute walk past the intersection leading back to the harbor. I didn’t realize Carlos ‘n Charlies and Senor Frog’s were related—you can buy logo wear for both outfits at any restaurant store. Unfortunately, the lone sales person was so incompetent, she couldn’t complete a transaction with the one party ahead of us during the 15 minutes we patiently waited. We had a good walk ahead of us to catch the last 1:30 p.m. tender, so we bailed and took off.

That walk down the harbor front seemed longer than it had that morning, and our son and I took off running when my clock ticked 1:25 p.m. When we rounded the last corner, we almost bumped into the last person in an extremely long tender line. We weren’t the last in line—a lot more folks queued behind us—but we were on the last passenger tender (unless the crew tender that followed picked up a few stragglers).

We compared our three port stops on the short ride back to the Star Princess. Activities aside—which we all agree were great—Cabo got the "thumbs up" from my husband and our daughter. It’s easy to see why so many visitors prefer this port to others on the Mexican Riviera itinerary. Everything’s relatively new and modern (the first big development push began in the ‘70s), and Cabo offers the caliber of shopping, fine dining and other resort amenities that many cruisers desire. I like a place with a past, and our son agrees with me that Mazatlan was a treasure, definitely worth a return trip. But I’d go back to Cabo just to make the recommended hike from the Finisterra out to Los Arcos during a time when it’s deserted, and ideally at low tide, when there are more exposed nooks and crannies to explore—I can only imagine what a magical place it can be.

All of our neighbors in nearby balconies were out for the 2:00 p.m. sailaway. We had had a lot of fun getting acquainted with everyone over the last two sailaways. But pulling out of Cabo was bittersweet—everyone realized this was the beginning of the end of the cruise.