Galapagos day 8 – Cruise day 3 – Floreana Island

Today was a comparatively slow day. After an eventful morning, we’ve pretty much had the rest of the day off. The focus today is more on the staff – who work 9 weeks in a row before receiving three weeks off. Today they were allowed to play soccer on a field on Floreana island and we spent the afternoon cruising back to our starting point in Puerto Ayora so that they could spend the evening and night with their families.

So I’ll insert some general information about the Galapagos here. The Galapagos islands attracted 146,000 tourists last year. It’s the most diverse marine ecosystem in the Pacific and is full of endemic species, meaning that the species are found only there. Half of the birds and most of the reptiles are endemic. It’s also unique in that there are few predators, meaning that the animals lack the fear they posses in other environments, where they have to worry more about their survival. This makes for easy wildlife watching by visitors.

Remarking on the tameness of the birds, Charles Darwin wrote: “There is not one which will not approach sufficiently near to be killed with a switch, and sometimes, as I have myself tried, with a cap or hat. A gun is here almost superfluous; for with the muzzle of one I pushed a hawk off the branch of a tree.”

He told the story of a boy on Floreana sitting by a well with a switch in his hand, which he used to kill doves and finches as they came to drink. He already had a small heap for dinner and said he was in the habit of constantly waiting there for the same purpose.

“We must conclude,” wrote Darwin, “that the birds, not having yet learnt that man is a more dangerous animal than the tortoise…disregard us, in the same manner as magpies in England do the cows and horses grazing in the fields…I have not not met with any account of the land birds being so tame, in any other quarter of the world, as at the Galapagos and Falkland Islands.”

The islands themselves were first hidden on the sea floor. As lava flows accumulated steadily, they eventually rose above the surface as volcanic cones. What used to be ocean became new islands, empty of life and ready to receive organisms. For Darwin, as well as subsequent naturalist-oriented visitors, it offered the opportunity to look at a new land and watch the development of naturalist history.

At 7 in the morning we took off in our dinghies for Punta Cormorant, Floreana, where we landed on a beautiful half-moon beach. The soil had a slightly greenish tint from the volcanic olivine. Unlike yesterday, where we were among hordes of tourists, only one other boat was at this island with us. And after they left, we were alone. While we saw less animals today, the feeling of being alone in this remote nature made up for it.

We followed a trail to a lagoon, where flamingoes waded in the water. About 50 flamingoes spread out across the large body of water. The adults were dark pink on the head and rear, light in the middle. The juveniles were a uniform light pink. They stirred up the mud with their legs, forcing crustaceans to come up to feed on. Each flamingo could eat over four pounds a day of aquatic insects. Elegant black neck stilts walked along the edge of the shore, looking for small crabs.

Although the wildlife was more limited than on Espanola, the island felt remote, quiet and peaceful. Only one other boat had been there that morning besides us. In the light breeze, and the melodic chirping of the warblers, I could see and feel the quiet tug of earth’s history.

A short distance away, we arrived at a remote and beautiful beach, where turtles lay their eggs. It’s now the season for laying eggs and turtle tracks, moving from the ocean to the high sand, covered the shore. At the top of the sand were several holes, where the turtles laid 80-120 eggs each. Less than one percent of them will make it to adulthood. At one end of the beach, a single fresh track stood out from the rest of the water-smoothed sand. Juan said it probably was made last night. It’s unfortunate that the park doesn’t allow nighttime visits because it would have been spectacular to stay up and watch the turtle come in.

The Green Pacific Sea Turtle is the only one that nests in the Galapagos. Of the 80-120 eggs laid by a female, less than one percent of them make it. The baby turtles come out of the sand holes at night, at the same time their mother left them three months earlier. Then they leave for 20 years, until they return to breed. During those 20 years, the turtles are lost and very little information exists on what happens during those first two decades of life.

We circled around to the other side of the lagoon, looking at birds and plant life along the way. I especially liked the pearlberry, a plant that produces berries looking like shiny, oval pearls.

As we left on our dinghy back to the boat, we passed a lone Galapagos penguin, fishing in the water. This type is the second smallest penguin in the world.

A little while later we went out to snorkel at a nearby spot, Devil’s Ground. While the water was a bit murkier than Juan said it was last week, we were still able to see several white-tipped reef sharks, a brightly colored azure parrotfish, lots of little angelfish and creole fish (which appeared grey, but are really red). Best of all were two Green Pacific Sea Turtles we found swimming underwater, looking prehistoric as they glided under the waves with their fins and massive round bodies.

In the afternoon we had a very short stop at a place called the post office. It’s been made into a tourist destination when I think it’s really an excuse to be at a place where the crew can play soccer. It’s an old wooden barrel where passengers put addressed postcards. Visitors rifle through them and if they find one from their country they take it and mail it free of charge.

The path continued on for 16 kilometers Puerto Velasco Ibarra but unfortunately we weren’t given time to follow it. I’d be very interested in visiting that community of 80, especially after reading the story of its founding.

We had several hours on the boat to spend reading or relaxing. While cruising to the island of Santa Cruz, with the blue waters of the ocean all around us, our guide spotted bottle-nosed dolphins jumping out of the water ahead. He called us all onto the deck and we watched as they swam toward our boat and rode in the wave caused by our bow. Standing on deck, we watched up to eight dolphins at a time swimming underneath and alongside our prow. Some of them were huge – grey and sleek and elegant. Occasionally, they’d come up for air and I could see the large, round blowhole, their version of a nostril, on top of their heads. That was a pretty magical and surreal moment. Juan said that they see dolphins on about one of every two trips across that stretch of water. I’m glad we lucked out.

Galapagos day 7 – Cruise day 2 – Espanola Island

Today was our first full day, and quite a busy one. We started out with a wet landing at Gardner Bay, a beautiful white sand beach lining a bay of teal water. After a stroll along the beach, during which we saw sea lions, lava lizards, marine iguanas, cactus and warbler finches and an oyster catcher, we took a swim, coming very near to the frolicking sea lions. My favorite sighting was of tunikens or annelids. They are similar to an earthworm and live inside of tunnels built on black lava rock, made from sand and mucus excreted from their mouths. They live inside the tunnels and come out to feed. Looking closely at the tunnels, I could see the grains of sand and small rocks that formed them. It was quite impressive.

After a short break, during which the crew prepared us peach juice with ice and an assortment of crackers and cookies, we went snorkeling. Nothing bit me this time, and I had the pleasure of swimming through a school of black, orange and white angelfish. Our guide brought up a starfish from the sea floor for us to examine. It looked black on the sand, but in his hand, it was a bright red. I saw little green sea urchins and a stingray hiding in a cove. While interesting, it still didn’t match the variety and quantity of some other places I’ve snorkeled, such as Belize and the Red Sea.

I left the snorkeling to try out one of the two kayaks we have on boat. I was able to paddle along the coastline of harsh black rock and enjoy the wildlife from a different angle. It was nice to be alone for once, yet have sea lions swimming around and under me, crabs scampering on the rocks, birds going about their activities, and iguanas crawling around. I then paddled myself back to the ship, arriving before the snorkelers.

The food on board is wonderful, healthy, but plentiful, filling and delicious. For lunch the chef served us lasagna with steamed beets in a nice sauce, shredded cabbage in a lemon sauce, canned peach slices and brown tamarind juice. I don’t know whether I’ve ever seen a tamarind. But Juan told us that it has several seeds in a pod and the pulp surrounding the seeds is what is used to make the juice.

After a two-hour siesta, we jetted over in our dinghy to Punta Suarez, a wonderful bird colony. The most populated areas smelled distinctively of guano, a scent of garbage and decomposition. While walking slowly along a 2-mile path, we were able to observe bird life close up. Some of the highlights including watching a juvenile hawk eat a small female iguana she’d recently caught (she had already ingested the brain and was pulling off skin to get the meat further down), watching Nazca boobies feed their young, and watching the marine iguanas squirt water with high concentrations of sat through their nostrils, like a little sneeze.

While Espanola is beautiful and rich with wildlife, it’s unfortunately the most visited island. Throughout the day, there were always a number of cruise ships nearby as well as tour groups ahead of and behind us.

One of the nearby ships was a large cruiser that holds 48 passengers. Apparently, the largest holds almost 100. I’m glad that we have a small boat. Ours holds 16, but we currently have only 13. Our guide, a really educated and high quality guide, said he only wants to work on small boats. Not only do they allow for quicker landings, Juan likes the independence he has a guide with a smaller group, and the ability for everyone to get to know each other better.

In the evening, while waiting for dinner, we watched the sun fall down into the horizon, so quickly we could see it move. Then we watched the sky turn yellow, a beautiful view over the lapis lazuli blue water.

Galapagos day 6 – The cruise begins – North Seymour

Today we began our week-long cruise on the Beluga ship. And at the end of the day, Mark and I are very happy with our choice.

We are on the top of three floors, the only room up here near the sun deck. We have two twin beds that are separated, but it’s better than having bunk beds, which was our other choice at the lower price.

Our companions include an opinionated, well-traveled older British couple, a British human resources and leadership specialist, a proper looking young Irish couple, possibly on honeymoon, a Danish cardiologist in training, an Australian woman who has been traveling for three months, a middle-aged Brazilian couple, and a French couple, one of whom is affiliated with the company who runs this ship. We felt lucky when we found out this travel agent was on board. Because we figured she’d report any problems to whoever is in charge and that the staff would be likely to be on their best behavior.

Taking care of the 13 passengers are 9 staff (an incredible ratio!), all men and all professional and helpful so far. The boat is quite comfortable. We have a beautiful view of the water, a sizeable bathroom, lots of storage space, and a shower with hot water.

Our first stop today was at North Seymour, a small island just north of Baltra, where the airport is located. At the airport, I noticed a plane that said “United States of America.” I wondered what it was. Later I was told that George Bush and his wife were here in the Galapagos for two days. Strange to think I’m cruising the same waters as him. Our international companions on this ship all reacted negatively to Bush when our guide confirmed that he was here in the Galapagos.

“I can’t figure out who voted for him,” the English lady said. “No one I’ve ever met did.”

“It’s going to be tough for him to not believe in evolution after he sees this,” Mark said.

The schedule of events on the ship is nice. It seems to alternate – activity, rest, activity, meal, rest, activity, rest, meal, rest. So we are able to see quite a lot in one day. We also get some exercise. But we actually have more down time than we have in the past few days while we were doing everything independently.

After a very nice lunch of beef with capers, steamed cauliflower, salad, rice and watermelon, we set out for our first excursion – snorkeling off the coast of North Seymour. We went out in two dinghies, small but firm rubber rafts with 15 horsepower motors, then jumped into the water. We saw a white-tailed shark lounging on the bottom of the ocean floor. I hadn’t been too afraid of sharks until our Danish companion, Dirk, (who is also a diver) told us about a Danish man whose arm was bitten by a shark three days ago. He had to be sewn up in Puerto Ayora and flown to Quito.

I had only been in the water a matter of minutes when I felt a sudden stinging on my right hand and my upper lip. I looked and only saw what appeared to be a thin, dark hair. It felt I’d been stung or bitten and those two places pulsed with pain, but I could see neither an attacker nor a mark.

I called out to our guide, Juan. “I think I’ve been stung,” I said.

“It’s probably a jellyfish,” he said. “I got stung too.”

He led me to believe it was no big deal, so I continued on. We saw some striped fish and some bright fish. But the sharks were the best sight. The water was a little murky and the variety and color wasn’t as great as what I’d seen before in places like Belize or the Red Sea. After a while morning, the Brazilian man assumed a shocked looked on his face and began swimming, stricken, towards the dinghy. He’d been stung several times on the back, also by jellyfish. He also hadn’t seen anything.

Juan saw another jellyfish and pushed a tourist out of the way. “There seem to be many more jellyfish than normal,” he said. “If you want to get out of the water, it’s probably a good idea.” He said it was rare for tourists to be stung and that usually they don’t appear in large numbers at this time.

Half the people returned to the dinghies and half continued to snorkel. The dinghy driver kept us entertained by showing us the jellyfish (which did in fact look like a thin, vertical hair, not the more bulbous bodies I’d seen in the U.S.), a red-pouched frigate bird, another bird feeding it’s young, and some sea lions, all alone the shoreline.

After a shower and a rest we returned to the dinghies, which brought us to shore this time. The short path led along the coastline and into the island. But it was so full of wildlife in action that it was among the most impressive encounters with nature I’ve ever had.

We started out crossing paths with sea lions, which lie across the black lava rocks we landed on. We walked on top of volcano barnacles, little creatures that come out at night to feed on organic matter. They live in a hard shell made of silica and calcium carbonate that looks like bubbles in a cauldron of soup atop the black lava rocks. We had close-up views of the fascinating frigate birds. Through sexual selection by females, the male has developed a gigantic red pouch that he puffs up when he wants to demonstrate his good gene quality. Though the bird is only 6-7 pounds, this pouch, when filled with air, can weigh two pounds. It is huge in relation to the rest of its body. He waves his head back and forth, extends his wind and makes a rattling sound. When a female sees that a male can develop a bright and large pouch, and avoid having been captured as prey (since a large red pouch makes them a more obvious target), she is confident that she is selecting good genes for her offspring.

Another attraction there was the blue footed booby, a white and brown bird with bright, pale blue webbed feet. While they mate all year, this is the height of the mating period. So we were able to see many examples of their funny ritual, in which the males lift their feet, one by one, in a type of dance, in order to demonstrate the bright and beautiful color of their feet and thus make themselves attractive to females.

Another highlight was watching the frigate bird feed her young. The baby caws in a persistent begging for food. This imprinted behavior causes the mother to regurgitate her fish and allow the baby to stick it’s beak into her throat to eat it. But she doesn’t do this immediately. First, she needs to look around to see that no other birds are around to steal the fish. Then she needs some time to regurgitate it.

We watched this in process. I thought she was taking much longer than necessary. Of course, the environment was full of birds. But none were in the immediate area. Yet as soon as she brought it up and the baby’s beak entered her mouth to eat it, a frigate bird swooped down and fought with the baby to get the fish. The frigate bird failed and the baby got the fish, although it seemed to choke it down after the fright. The mother squacked a protest at the potential thief, but I don’t think he was ashamed.

The frigate birds lack a preening gland on their backs that, like most other marine birds, would allow them to produce an oil for preening their feathers. Without this, they can’t go into the water because the weight of the water would prevent them from flying. So their method of eating is by stealing. Or by intimidating other birds in flight enough that they will regurgitate the fish, drop it, and the frigate will catch it in mid-air.

Because of the lack of natural predators, the animals on the Galapagos have no fear. We were sometimes just inches away from these animals – sea lions, marine and land iguanas, birds, and they didn’t move. I only got such a sensation of being so close to wildlife during a safari in Tanzania. But then we were within the protection of a jeep. Here we are out right next to the animal. It’s a remarkable experience.

In the evening, after a welcome Baileys and a delicious dinner, Mark and I fell asleep (with our pillows and blankets) on the front deck. The brilliant starry sky rotated above us with the swell of the waves, a live planetarium, complete with shooting stars.

Galapagos days 4 and 5 – Sierra Negra Volcano and Puerto Ayora

We’re back on Puerto Ayora, having returned on the daily 16-passenger fiberglass boat from Isabela. We stopped at the Western oriented café near the dock for a welcome breakfast of whole-grain pancakes with tropical fruit and tea with milk.

Puerto Ayora, the closest thing the Galapagos has to a capital, seems like a center of civilization. It was a treat for us to return to our simple, but air-conditioned room, internet access, laundry service, much as we loved the beauty and isolation of Isabela.

Yesterday was a rough day for us. We’d both become completely fried by the equatorial sun during our 15-kilometer hike on Tuesday. So yesterday we were in pain with the back of our knees scalded bright red by the sun. It would have been nice to rest, but we couldn’t give up the opportunity to see the Sierra Negra volcano, which we’d heard we could ascend by horseback, so we went ahead and joined a tour.

I was surprised when a truck picked us up and the guide who was driving told us to get into the open air back, where two benches lined the flatbed. In our condition, we couldn’t sit out in the open sun for an hour each way, so we asked to cram into the front seat with the driver.

There are only three towns on Isabela, the main beach town of Puerto Villamil (pop. 2200), a farming community of 500 called San Tomas, and a tiny town that I never saw on any maps called Las Mercedtitas. The island is a vast plot of empty land – a fact we were able to appreciate when we climbed up to the observation tower yesterday and saw only ocean, volcanoes, mangroves, lava fields, and scrubby forests extending as far as the eye could see. On this trip, we were heading north to the area of San Tomas.

As we packed the cracked lava strewn earth, prickly cactuses rising from the hard rocky earth, I wondered how and what people farmed. After we’d gone a ways, trees covered with Spanish moss appeared, and then dense greenery, including the upside-down hanging angel trumpet flowers. Our guide explained that the winds blow from south to north. And for that reason, the soil is blown to the north, so that the southern parts remain dry and barren and the areas available for farming (pineapple, tomatoes, potatoes, corn, bananas) are in the north.

I somehow expected there wouldn’t be many people at this remote spot on an isolated island. But I was wrong. We pulled up with a bunch of other trucks filled tourists filling the backs. We gaggled together at the base of a hill, like a flock of chickens, and waited as we were assigned our horses.

The trip was pretty disappointing, as the guides herded us up to the crater, whipping our horses to speed us up. They wanted us to finish up and get on to their next, afternoon, tour. It didn’t matter if some of the horses (including mine) bucked in response to the whipping. They also cut out our planned hike to the Cerro Azul volcano.


But despite the poor guiding, the landscape was beautiful. We rode up green hills to arrive at a vast, black crater – the crater of the volcano Sierra Negra. It’s the second largest crater in the world, after Ngorogoro in Tanzania. I’m lucky to have seen both and what a difference. While Ngorogoro is crawling with giraffes, rhinos and flamingos, the Sierra Negra is pure black basalt, with visible fissues.

The last explosion, at the rim of the crater, happened on October 22nd, 2005. they guides saw small explosions, then bombs. Many of them came up to the crater to watch the pyrotechnics during the 15 day explosion.”

I asked the horse owner, Juan, a cowboy in a red, white, and blue bandanna, weathered skin and gold teeth, whether he was scared. “A little,” he said, “But we have a stronger curiosity. When it erupts we all come up and look.”

He said the eruption brought tourists night and day. “We pray to God for more eruptions so that we’ll have a lot of work,” he said.

On our way back to town, we stopped by the Tortoise Center to learn about the efforts the center is realizing to reproduce and repopulate Isabela Island with tortoises. On the island, each volcano has a different race of giant tortoise. Of the 12 species worldwide, five of them live on Isabela. But with time, they have become more and more rare.

In the 16th and 17th centuries, pirates killed thousands of tortoises for food. After Isabela was colonized in the late 1800s, the first inhabitants also ate tortoise meat and exported their oil to the mainland. As well, they introduced animals, such as pigs, cats, rats, burros and goats, that changed the natural environment. The population steadily decreased. The newborns, with their soft shell vulnerable to attack by cats and rats, had a hard time surviving. So the center opened, to keep newborns in pens, weigh and measure them every three months, and then put them out in the wild when they are able to resist attack.

That evening, the island held the Miss Isabela pageant, the first stage in the journey to become Miss Galapagos, then Miss Ecuador, then Miss Universe. As elsewhere in Latin America, being a beauty queen is a big deal.

There were only four contestants on this small island. But an entire parade was organized in their honor. A young woman who lived in a house next to our hotel was a participant (and the eventual winner). I watched her and her family decorate the back of a pick up truck with stuffed sea lions. Then she put on a banner and took her place.

Residents lined the street as the police led the parade. The four pick-ups came by, each carrying a contestant (they seemed to be 16 or 17 years old). After those initial glances, the entire town seemed to gather in the town hall for the pageant. This was a full-fledge production that took hours to set up, complete with vendors of cold bottled beer and roasted chicken and beef.


We watched the candidates parade out in a variety of skimpy clothing. We watched a young girl dressed in pink, perhaps ten years old, perform sexy dancers with a great confidence in her ability. And we watched the national costume show, in which each contestant came out in a costume she designed that represents Isabela Island. Each was more outlandish and outrageous than the next. Rosita, our neighbor and the eventual winner, came out last, carrying a fishing pole, and wearing a bikini while balancing a giant mackerel that curved from her hips to her head.

When it became clear the contest would last well into the night, we prepared to leave. When a balloon lit by fire was released in the wrong direction of wind, flew up to the center of the covered station, and began to burn, we hastened our exit. Getting trapped in a packed, burning stadium full of beauty pageant enthusiasts wasn’t something we wanted to experience. Luckily, we heard later, the fire went out before the stadium caught aflame. And the pageant went on.