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Published: December 7th 2009
around our boat
Islas de Galapagos, Isla Santiago,
Braving the cold crisp air of early morning I peek out of the porthole, a silver line at the horizon and growing fast in intensity, promises me another clear day with great vistas and a sunny waether though the draft of cold air trying hard to invade the warmth under my moth eaten blanket is trying hard to convince me otherwise.
Life on a small boat that claims the grandiose title of "cruise ship" and carries four passengers and two crew men plus the by National Park obligated guide, can be claustrofobic and tension high at night when entertainment is is at its lowest and the happy mood brought about by the consumption of King Alcohol is non-excistent due to the empty fridge in the cook's rat dominated kitchen.
Or so I thought when we were still back in Quito. Instead me and my travel companion and ladyfriend Aino find ourselves in heated but amiable all night discussions with our other passengers, the Spanish couple, items I pick out of Mister Darwin's The Origin of Species a hot issue on any given night....the sights of the day's excursions a big second runner
on our topic list.
Sitting on top of the boat with a hot coffee I can discern the shapes of Pacific sea turtles all around the boat occupied in their ritual mating games, males pushing each other away from near drowning females, desperately trying to keep her head above the ocean while s*x hungry turtle males excitedly try to mount her...dark green murky water is the play ground for a massive turtle orgy with me being the only human witness...I wonder if I should wake up my fellow travellers but the moment is pure magic...I don't seem to be able to take my eyes of the spectacle, glued to the scêne absorbing the sights like the way my fingers are clasped around my coffee mug trying to let the heat invade my numb fingers...
A scêne as old as the Turtle Nation has been swimming these oceans, is evolving around my Gringo blue eyes with more and more huge turtles invading their - no doubt - favorite nutial bed chamber, serious baby turtle making is in full progress around our wobbling half rotten boat that carries the gradiose name "cruise ship".
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