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Published: June 19th 2005
The first thing that I noticed was the smell.
A unique, arousing blend of sea spray and jet fuel, whipped along on the hot afternoon breeze. As I followed the orange safety cones across the tarmac, that scent carried a strong feeling of segmentation. Like a Russian Doll, this was to be another holiday from the business of travelling.
I had flown out of the cold bustle and smog of Quito and escaped to a paradise. Admittedly, it seemed like everyone else had done the same, and there was a stiff USD100 Park Entry Fee but neither of these issues could detract from the excitement of finally arriving at The Galapagos Islands.
Clearing the khaki shorts and tanned legs of customs, we formed back into the little group of four that had been broken up by some highly disorganised Aerogal seating allocation. (In both Quito and at our stop in Guyaquil I had been briefly confronted by indignant tourists brandishing boarding passes which listed my row and seat number). Our guide was waiting outside of the gates and her first assistance to us was the suggestion that we go back into the terminal and collect our big bags. San
Cristobal is the secondary airport charged with absorbing the full flow of traffic while the strip at Baltra is repaired and, as such, there was a small amount of confusion rippling through the crowd.
Any delay caused by our baggage issues proved irrelevant as we had to wait for the next flight to arrive and deliver the last four members of our group. I sat across the road in the welcome, blazing sunlight and spotted my first Galapagos Finch.
When we were all finally accounted for, a little shuttle bus zipped us over to the port for transfer to our new home via the
panga (dingy). Not for the last time we heard the barrel-chested pilot say: “wanbaywan, sitebysite, lifejackesson…”.
As the little boat disappeared into the bobbing mass of anchored ships with it’s first load, I waited in the heat and began to notice the wildlife. Just beside us, on the boat ramp, Seal Lions were lazily surfing onto the rocks and concrete ledges to deposit themselves in the best patches of sunlight. Between waves, bright red crabs would appear on the shiny rocks and scuttle about their crabby business. At this stage of the cruise, ignorant of
what we would soon be seeing, it was a beautiful and highly entertaining sight.
My first moments on board
The Angelique were a pleasant justification of the difficult decision to settle for a five-day cruise in order to upgrade to a better boat. The feeling of walking barefoot along the graceful lines of the wooden deck made me feel instantly at home and I was eager for us to haul in the anchor and head out into the big blue. Dumping my bags and changing into shorts, I secured a perch for myself right up on the tip of the bow and settled in for the afternoon. In no time we had the sails up and were charging out to sea, my precarious seat rising up and dropping away dramatically with the waves. (One of the few upsides to the ultra-relaxed South American attitude to general safety is the assumption that everyone is responsible for their own well being and it was nice to spend the next few days hanging from, leaping off and climbing up stuff without having someone standing below yelling about Public Liability Insurance).
The other fifteen passengers didn’t seem to share my passion
for the open water and were all soon snoozing in deck chairs or curled up on the couches with their faces covered. I was initially surprised and a bit disappointed but it left me with some time to think in a very peaceful space filled with sea spray and bright sunlight. The front part of the boat is suspended out over the water and, facing forward, I could see nothing except the ocean and a dazzling wedge of light pointing the way to the sun. I had to laugh at how easy I am to please, I was already having a great time.
Our first stop was at twilight on the island of Santa Fé. As the panga approached the beach we could see hundreds of Sea Lions lying in rows on the beach. Those that were not wedged in to this warm arrangement were either swimming around our boat or moving from group to group trying to flop themselves down into a gap.
Our arrival was almost completely ignored. The chorus of coughing, barking, belching, sneezing and wailing didn’t even miss a beat. In the majority of cases, unless we got within a metre of the animals,
Just one more...
This was a great rush. Mary had already jumped and snapped this shot with the disposable aquacam.they didn’t even look at us. The exceptions to this rule were a few protective mothers and some enthusiastic youngsters who patrolled the sand and occasionally charged at one of us.
As the sun set, we followed the trail through towering stands of cactus and hunted for camouflaged Iguanas, these were incredibly hard to spot and I would have walked on past three of them had they not been pointed out. The light failing fast, we concluded our little nature walk with an examination of some brightly coloured lizards before returning to
The Angelique and her spinning halo of Frigate birds.
Dinner was a well-organised communal event up on the poop deck (well, that’s what we were calling it) where we all got to know each other a little better. This was followed by our first activity ‘briefing’ - an event which became a running joke as our guide’s lethargic delivery always sent us to sleep in our seats.
The double cabins below deck were cramped but perfectly adequate, I was almost able to stretch out fully in my bunk, which was an improvement on many of the munchkin beds that I have encountered on the trip.
As the crew collected the anchor and we set out for our next destination we were almost rocked out of our beds by the motion of the ship. The majority of the group found this very difficult to handle and succumbed to sea-sickness but I was thankfully unaffected, sleeping soundly through the night.
My solid sleeping meant that I was consistently up for the sunrise and the first of these revealed the peaceful waters of Puerto Ayora, major shipping port for the islands. Wandering about on the slippery roof of the bridge, I chatted to the crew as they moved about below and assessed the fleet of tourist cruisers bobbing quietly alongside. Eventually the rest of the group appeared or were chased out of their cabins for breakfast and we went ashore in search of the Islands’ namesake - the Giant Tortoise or
galapagos.
These bizarre, ancient creatures were waiting for us a few miles inland surrounded by hundreds of bright yellow balls, ripe passion fruit which we collected and munched or stashed in our bags. Even the name Giant Tortoise had not prepared us for the amazing size of the
galapagos and we wandered around them
in awe while they either ignored us or slept, it was hard to tell. Most of these guys live past one hundred years of age, which works out well for them because they don’t exactly rush about the place getting things done.
On our way back to the port we made a stop at the dark entrance to an enormous volcanic tunnel and followed the chilly passageway for a kilometre or so to another point at which we could exit. These two openings were created when sections of the chamber collapsed, allowing a nice little tourist sample - there are others under the island which have been explored for days with the expeditions having to turn back before finding an end.
We were due at the Charles Darwin Research Centre later that afternoon but we first returned to the boat for lunch and a bit of relaxation time. As we waited on the dock I watched countless Marine Iguanas clambering up out of the water to sun themselves on the footpaths, they were either completely fearless or the lure of the heat was too much to resist.
Our free time after lunch was a golden opportunity for
The Dude
Had a great chat with this guy. the siesta crowd and the deck was quickly filled with slumbering people. I’m not much of a day-sleeper and the sun was shining, so I used the time to do something that I had been itching to try - jumping off the boat. This was the first of many and the simple thrill just refused to wear off. Right out on the front of the bow, it is a good few metres to the water below and I found myself with enough time on the way down to flap my arms and almost get out a swear word or two. I made the mistake of hitting the water with my arms stretched out on the first attempt and nearly popped out a shoulder.
I guess I was making up for the trip that I missed to the waterfall jumps of Mindo and my enthusiasm eventually convinced the Ecuadorian girl in our group to give it a try. She loved it despite an unfortunate (unco) landing which gave her a painful slap on the butt and discouraged the rest of our timid group from joining in. I spent about 5 seconds feeling self-conscious for being a big kid but it was
far too much fun to worry about that. With the crew encouraging me, I spent the next few days jumping and diving off almost every part of the boat. Mary even joined me for the highest one from the roof at the risk of a bikini malfunction (hers, not mine).
So long as you were careful to check for the anchor chain, it was great fun. The crew claimed that the record-holder had jumped from way up in the sail rigging but I had to draw the line somewhere...
The second half of our day in Puerto Ayora was spent in the Darwin Research Centre where we finally got some good, detailed information from our naturalist guide. The tour of the facility was fascinating and we got to get even closer to some
galapagos as they were in captivity for the breeding program. Star of the show was Lonesome Jorge who is the last of his particular species. He was found on his island all alone and no others have been found since, despite an international search with reward money posted and a survey of all world zoos. To salvage what they can from the situation, the scientists are
busily trying to mate Jorge with two females from his closest species. Unfortunately Jorge has no end of trouble in this department and our guide delighted in telling us the details of his weak sperm and romantic failures, no doubt adding to the problem if he was listening from his bushy home.
Leaving Jorge alone with his weighty responsibility, we headed for the nursery and checked in on some comically tiny err… Giant Tortoises. These little guys were the size of my palm and ran around the enclosure with bright numbers painted on their backs. It was so odd to see all of the features of the fully-grown animals in miniature and on fast-forward. With the educational part of the day aside, we were set loose on the main commercial strip and all fell victim to over-shopping at the only supermarket in the unfounded belief that we might be hungry in the next few days.
There is a great lazy vibe to the town and I spent a few hours just wandering along the waterfront. As the sun set, I found the giant brown skeleton of a ship under construction and settled in to watch the carpenters argue
Ray Beach
I could have spent days on this little beach. and hammer away deep in it’s belly. Nighttime in the port was warm and relaxed, it was Mary’s Mum’s birthday and we managed a surprise party at dinner with a superb cake whipped up during the day by the chef. (When Mary had told me about it that morning, I made sure that the captain knew about it so we would get a cake. They do great cake over here and the hint paid off - I had about four helpings).
When we next woke up we were anchored at Isla Floreana for our visit to the Post Office Barrel. This is exactly that, a barrel that has been used for hundreds of years as an exchange point for shipping and terrestrial mail. The idea is that you deposit your mail while collecting any mail that is addressed to a point on your route and that you will be able to deliver in the course of your travels. Since the eco-tourism boom, rules have evolved (you must deliver it in person) and the volume of communication has swelled with the influx of novelty postcards. It was a fun little side-trip which I appreciated for the character of the
structure more than anything else.
Many of our meal-time conversations had revolved around when and where we would first snorkel, so we jumped at our first opportunity on the beach at Floreana. Visibility wasn’t fantastic due to the overcast day but it was still great to be swimming on the reef and it was still hot. There was a tricky little swell about and this managed to sneak up and nail me on some rocks, resulting in some impressive looking cuts down my back. It was all worth it for the face-time (sorry, too many Americans) that I was getting with a Sea Lion and his Blue Footed Boobie friend out on the point. Approaching via the water gave things a very different perspective and made me feel much more surrounded by the life on the islands.
Minutes later I upped the ante when I had an underwater meeting with a Sea Turtle. I was swimming alone and this guy just cruised on by me with a graceful stroke of his fins. I immediately pursued him (at a responsible distance) and spent a tranquil few minutes swimming alongside and trying to match his effortless underwater flight. I was
frustrated that I needed to swim back up to the surface for air but he hung around and I even got to watch him feeding from some plants on the reef. By the time he finally engaged the afterburners and shot out of sight, I had a big dopey grin on my face (and I was miles from the beach!).
As I swam back to the group I was horrified to discover that a pocket had come open and my disposable camera, which I had been snapping away with, had fallen out. I made a fruitless search of the bottom and the surrounding surface as I was unsure if they floated and then returned to the others looking very deflated. When I mentioned my good and then bad luck to Californian Dan, he produced the missing camera from below and said that it had just floated up to him before I arrived… nice one!
We were all pretty tired from the swim but it was apparently time for the Ecuador vs R.O.W soccer match which took place on a half-size sandy pitch behind the beach, complete with mini-goal posts. The crew (plus their two countrymen from our group of
Blue?
The stunning crabs of Ray Beach tourists) were very talented and made us look like we were standing still with their tricks and ball control. All we had going for us was a few bursts of brilliance, luck and a willingness to throw ourselves around on the rock-strewn surface. I was surprised at the determination shown by what I thought was a pretty soft group and we managed a not-too-shabby 3-1 loss. Considering the huge difference in skills, we were quite lucky that the crew tried too hard to show off and a lot of their complicated moves fell apart.
After some more leaping off the ship and some bandaging of feet, we sailed to the other end of the island for another snorkelling spot at “Devil’s Crown”. This is an isolated formation of rocks - a (supposedly) sheltered location for snorkelling with Sea Lions, amazing fish and occasionally sharks. After seeing a shark circling our boat on the first day, I was keen to swim with one although it seemed odd to be dropping in from the boat and swimming around so far from land.
The nerves that almost stopped a lot of people from coming over were soon justified as we found that
the crown was full of strong waves, making a mockery of our attempts to swim in any consistent direction. At one point I was on the bottom and kicking as hard as I could just to stay in one spot.
We were quite safe with the
panga puttering about but the power of the currents freaked-out a few of the guys who had come across in life jackets but without wearing fins (?!). My little Ecuadorian friend started to panic and I went over and waited with her while the dingy pilot came to rescue her, yanking her out by her neck. Later she insisted that I had saved her life (ridiculous), which led to much teasing from Mary and Rona.
It was not a pleasant place to snorkel but it was just as entertaining as a new experience. Hovering under the surface, it was impossible to do anything other than swing back and forth with the swell. Since you normally swim overhead, out of synch with the life on the reef, it was a bit surreal to be moving in harmony with the fish and waving plants, all tuned in to some invisible conductor.
The afternoon was
Marine Iguana
I lost three from three staring competitions. a little more placid with a trip to the Flamingo Lagoon. Flamingos don’t do that much for me so I was a little distracted until we reached the Ray Beach which rates very highly on my list of Most Serene Locations. As we waded in the shallows spotting rays and miniature sharks, each gentle wave stripped away another layer of my remaining tension and I was left extremely relaxed and content.
Everyone spread out and explored little bits of the place for a while. I stretched out on the beach and followed the angular lines of the Frigate Birds before we tore ourselves away and returned to the warmly lit boat.
Española!
Wow… Our destination the following day was what I had originally expected from all of them, an island bursting with life and crammed with the undisturbed populations of a hundred different species. Stepping ashore was an exercise in lizard dodging. On our way in, the Sea Lions surfed along on the waves and nipped playfully at the tails of the slower Marine Iguanas. Before we even made it off the beach we were coming across the famous Blue Footed
Boobies. These little creatures were hilarious.
Vegetarian Shark
This guy circled the boat for a while. I was amazed at how entertaining they were with their permanently alarmed expressions, elaborate and clumsy mating dance and, well, BLUE FEET!
I must have taken at least a gagillion photos of these birds as I watched them carefully raising one foot to lean over to the side, repeating the process on the other. It honestly looked to me like some cruel joker had just finished fitting the entire colony with new blue shoes and none of them fit properly. Every bird was lifting and wiggling their feet as if to try and remove the ridiculous footwear. Poor little guys.
We came across just as many Iguanas as birds, their deep reds and yellows contrasting with the dull colours of their companions on the edges of the island, the Masked Boobie. Following the carefully marked nature trails, we passed through a bustling hatchery, watched as the Albatross airport despatched a few flights and spotted the Galapagos Hawk perched on his throne, waiting for a Boobie chick to stray away from the nest.
Lunch rolled around quickly and we ate as the boat moved to the other end of the island to reach another snorkelling spot. This one
Tuckered-out little guy
About the size of a big cat. was better than the first but still nothing amazing. Again, this was probably due to the conditions on the day. It was still fun and I spotted an amazing blue fish that seemed to be emitting a spectacular blue light from within. After losing that fish in the rocks I followed a cool silver and green fish the size of a dinner plate, he led me straight into the centre of a whole school and I was able to swim along with them surrounded on all sides.
When we eventually tired and swam in to the beach (we had swum to the reef from the boat) there was another raucous Sea Lion colony waiting for us. Almost all of them were resting on the sand, replenishing the oxygen levels in their blood, but a few pups were very interested in us and zipped around in the shallows. A little band of four was seeing who could come closest to us without actually touching and it led to some great games in the surf. Dan and I spent about 30 minutes diving at them to see them scatter in a millisecond, then feigning intimidation at their counter-lunge. Eventually a mother
figure came waddling down the beach and barked at them to stop playing with the humans and they shuffled away looking dejected.
Back on the boat for our last dinner, I decided to put my hoarded Galapagos Passion Fruit to use and mix up some Passion Fruit Caprioskas. Mary and Rona bravely joined me and I had a crack at making the drinks (I have enjoyed plenty of these but never actually made one). They turned out brilliantly well and we settled back on the deck to watch a stunning sunset with our cocktails. It was the perfect conclusion to an amazing little cruise.
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Robb
non-member comment
Thanks
I've read over your entire trip over the last two days, thanks for letting me live vicariously through you. I spent a year packing through Oz and South East Asia a few years ago, and can totally relate to the way the universe seems to conspire to ensure things work out for travelers. (Actually I think things like that happen to "normal" people too, but I think travelers are just more aware of what is happening and so can take more advantage of it.) I've been taking Spanish classes lately, and after reading about your adventures I'm ready to take off for South America myself. Hope the rest of your trip is as satisfying. (Looking forward to the next installment!) And thanks again for sharing your story. Robb