Hola Amigos y Familia:
At the close of Dispatch #2 we had moved south from Urbina to Elizabeth Bay off Isabela Island and awoke there the next morning at 5:15 a.m., as we had raised our hands the night before to be rousted if the skies were clear. Morris and his laser were waiting, targeting constellations and planets in the southern hemisphere, the Southern Cross being first to be focused on, then on to the Scorpius Constellation, pointing out the 3 key stars that define it, including the 15th brightest star in the skies, Antares. Last up, in a line from top to bottom were the planets Jupiter, Mars and Scorpio.
This celestial display was a magical prelude to what followed, with our 2 pangas motoring us slowly through narrow dark waterways beautifully reflecting the bordering Red and White Mangroves, reminding Maggie and me of canoeing on the black waters of the Okefenokee Swamp on the Georgia-Florida border. Soon, hints of a dawning day began to appear with red-hued cloud tops. Continuing on, we passed by outcroppings mounted with pelicans, crabs and cormorants, while Galapagos Green Turtles were easily seen beneath us. Less obvious were the Golden Rays that were called to our attention beneath and alongside our pangas. Morris addressed flitting movements on the water surface of extremely small (.08 inches long) insects, Water Boatmen. These guys are the loudest creatures on earth size-wise, at 90+ decibels, 99% of this deafening sound lost in the transfer from water to air. It is created by rubbing its penis against its abdomen, ergo, dubbing this insect the “singing penis”. After a while the motors were cut and an oar was used at the bow to silently search for Galapagos Penguins. As we moved through the waters, Morris shared information on sharks. Those born here in the mangroves stay for 7 years before moving out to the Marela Islands at the mouth of the bay and, eventually, to the sea. The market for fins is overwhelming, 35 million per year, mainly going to China and Japan. Once their fins have been amputated, sharks can’t swim and drop to the sea bottom, becoming fodder for other sharks. He also shared that attacks on humans by sharks are mistakes, because, when they bite, they detect the ‘wrong’ pheromones and go away. Morris couldn’t just stop himself and had to share the following comical tale that belies reality:
A mama shark was teaching her baby how to hunt humans by circling before the attack. The baby asked ‘why not go directly to the human and not waste so much time.’ Her response was ‘humans taste better after all the circling because you’ve scared the sh_t out of them’.
Turtles started breaking the surface around us, taking air, as we continued meandering by oar. After no penguins were spotted, the motors were restarted and VOILA! We were beset with penguins in droves, not only on the surface but racing underwater, Morris emulating penguin sounds while a Yellow Warbler was singing as it swept by us. There were also larger conglomerates of Spotted Eagle and Golden Rays than we had seen earlier. A Blue Heron regally poised on a rock top in the middle of the bay while a Lava Heron, perched on another rock, was being stalked by a Sea Lion who, when it surfaced, had the most puzzled look, swinging his head sideways, looking at the spot just vacated by the heron. Groups of ducks and penguins cooperatively herding fish together to quarantine breakfast. Our breakfast came soon after, aboard our ship, which abandoned Elizabeth Bay for a 2 hour transit down to Punta Moreno, southwest of us on Isabela’s coast.
After a dry landing we engaged in a hike over a vast rocky lava field created 2,000 years ago, situated between the volcanos Sierra Negra and Sierra Azul. Even though the terrain was rippled with vertical sharp shafts of lava, our hike was even and smooth and feet friendly. At one time more than 100,000 feral goats had roamed here, negatively affecting the tortoise population which was a big source of tourist revenues. The solution: $14 Million to eradicate them, using firepower from helicopters, leaving the bodies in situ! The newer problem is with feral pigs, but with a different approach…population control versus complete eradication, since the pigs are a source of income for the small number of locals (less than 2,000).
Our hike led us to several brackish lagoons located below our path, frequented by the likes of Pintail Ducks and Black Moorhead Hens with their red beaks. One lagoon was a resting spot from for a sea-weary White-Tipped Shark, entering from the ocean via a lava tunnel. Another lagoon was home for 3 of the 250-300 Pink Flamingos that reside on this island. These 3 shared the pond waters with a 6 foot Yellow-Tailed Mallet Fish. Furthering our meandering, we came across mating locusts and a small lizard with half a locust protruding from its mouth. Returning to our pangas, we motored by a line-up of penguins on rocks 4 feet above us and, above them, piles of iguanas with their arms around each other, as we have witnessed before. As this area was protected by reefs with incoming surges, we had to wait for the right moment to gun our pangas to pass through the opening to the open seas. We were also incentivized to avoid an approaching squall and managed to make a successful speedy retreat to the SAMBA!
The next leg of this adventure was 11 hours of motoring through the night, to the southern tip of Isabela, then east to the island of Floreana, where we anchored off of Puerto Velasco Ibarra. After a dry landing dockside, we boarded a chiva (wood-benched “bus” with 4 rows accommodating 4 passengers each) for a 20 minute ride on a narrow, nicely paved road to the top of Cerro Alieri, passing by dense, verdant foliage, with signs of farming and cultivation, e.g., chickens, donkeys and planted trees protected by barbed wire fencing. Some signs of public transportation for this population of 100 souls were in evidence, i.e., an old wooden bus shelter, aslant, with piles of cleared brush nearby. Morris pointed out the world’s tallest daisies, trees of the genus Scalesia which can grow to 60 feet tall, the ones here being only 10 feet. Once we descended from our chiva, we hiked up to Cueva de los Piratas (cave of the pirates) on the way to Asilo de la Paz (Asylum of the Peace), coming across a baby tortoise, anguishing from the excessive caked mud he was carrying, his face protruding and retracting, trying to rid itself of this burden, his neck wrinkling and expanding, all the while blades of grass hanging from his mouth…both humorous and sad at the same time. I was compelled to scrape the mud away, which would be a NO-NO in the Galapagos, to touch any of these unique and protected critters! He was a 5 year old hybrid, part of a 200 year project to “replace” the infamous Lonesome George, complicated by the 25-35 years it takes a tortoise to reach maturity.
As we experienced a medical event aboard SAMBA with our chef, so did we have our own situation with one of our fellow passengers which required immediate attention and a minor adjustment to our tour. Everything turned out OK, fortunately. Part of this excursion took us through the “Tortoise Corral”, entering through a gated system where concrete-lined pools of water were available for the Giant Tortoises, some of which could be heard ‘growling’. In their territory it was incumbent on us to watch the path to avoid their excrement. Arriving at the cave, we were enthralled with a tale worthy of a prime time soap opera: pirates, a marooned Irishman (Patrick Watkins), an 1820 tortoise catastrophe that was the genesis for Melville’s Moby Dick, shootings and suspected murder involving two different German immigrant families, a self-proclaimed polyamorous ‘baroness” and the birth in this cave of a child to one of the German immigrant families. Morris pointed out the Angel’s Trumpet plant, whose flower is placed under children’s pillows to help sleep. The flip side is more permanent: when brewed in tea and intensified it can produce hallucinations and death.
Our afternoon was spent at Devil’s Crown, a circular islet with an eroded volcanic cone off Punta Cormorant on northern Floreana. Our final snorkel started with the pangas dropping us off to catch the current and allow it to carry us effortlessly around the northern perimeter and enter into the center of this atoll-like set of rocks where we were 2 feet away from Blue-Footed Boobies perched on rocks and Sea Lions lazing in the sun, seemingly disinterested in our presence. This snorkel presented us with the best array of colorful fish we had seen yet. Climbing back into the pangas, Morris chastised us for not following directions, i.e., allowing the current to carry us slowly, thus our experience had been shorter than expected. We were asked if we wanted a ‘do-over’ since this was our last snorkel. We enthusiastically said “YES”, re-donning our flippers and masks and flipped back into the current. This time around we took our time, with a cave being pointed out, Morris entering and discovering White-Tipped sharks. Returning to the SAMBA, we sadly (and happily…no more suiting up struggles) took off our wet suits for the last time.
Our final dinner aboard the SAMBA was wonderful as usual and filled with admiration for the crew and reflected in the generous pooled gratuities ensconced in 2 envelopes, one for Morris, the other, for the rest of the crew, all dressed in their ‘whites’, with Morris at the far right of the crew photo in the above stream, and the vessel’s captain on the far left. Compare that formal pic with the attached one of the motley group of passengers they served! We had tasked one of the more senior of us, “Ernesto”, a Montanan so nick-named due to his likeness to Ernest Hemmingway, to present these acknowledgements. He performed admirably, making us proud, addressing each crew member individually, in both English and Spanish. We will miss these adventures (but have the memories), our fellow companions and the crew, but not the cramped quarters, climbing up and down the narrow steep and slippery stairs between our cabins and the dining area. One note of humor was when the 2 couples from Montana were playing the card game Euchre, our guide Morris finally asked why they were always invoking the American President’s name?, which brought on a roar of laughter from the 10 of us Americans and the 4 Canadians!
Our final 2 nights on this CNH Tour Expedition were spent at Puerto Ayora on the southern tip of Santa Cruz, an island housing 60% of the Galapagos’ 23,000 residents. We now resided in a hotel with non-bunk beds, ‘wide open spaces’ and a pool. Felt like royalty! We also inherited a new naturalist guide, Sandie. Alas, no more crazy stories from Morris! We hit the ground running, riding in a nice modern bus (the opposite of the open-sided, rustic chiva on Floreana) to the Highlands at 1800 feet elevation, taking in the lush foliage on the way, the 100% organic cattle grazing roadside behind fencing, eventually turning down a narrow, tree-lined, gravel road, to Rancho Primicias, a privately owned reserve for Giant Tortoises, some being seen in the pastures on our entry, with Monarch butterflies flitting about. Rancho is also home to a Lava Tunnel which we descended into and wound our way through with unneeded lamp lights we had brought (the tunnel now sported a lighting system defining the low-ceilinged quarter mile long passageway). These tunnels were the result of 3-4 different lava flows over time. Tubes were formed when the cooler surface of a lava flow hardened while the inner lava flow continued to move through. Eventually the lava stopped flowing leaving empty tubes. Along with enjoying the unique formations and coloring in the tubes, it was a nice respite from the searing hot day topside. We traipsed behind Sandie coming to a muddy pool containing 5 Giant Tortoises, only 1 a male. As we approached, he was making a beeline toward a female facing us at the pool’s edge, mounting her, which proved to be a struggle with several alignment maneuvers, sounds of shell-on-shell grinding and much groaning. Sandie indicated that this guy was 80-90 years old (the poster child for us seniors), weighing 300 pounds and the ‘mating’ could last 2-3 hours!
Our next stop was at Los Gemelos, twin sunken craters, 60 meters deep, where the bottom bears the same topography as the area surrounding these craters, merely having dropped down in place with Galapagos Guava and Scalesia trees reaching up from the depths. We were regaled with Vermilion and Galapagos Flycatchers, as well as Darwin Finches which were everywhere to be seen at these sites. We moved on to visit a financially struggling coffee finca, LAVA JAVA, touring this funky small organic operation, listening to the story of its beginnings and the current issue from competition with much cheaper non-organic coffee (1/2 the price) shipped from the mainland. On the way back to Puerto Ayora, Sandie shared with us the fact that there are 5 public schools, 2 private ones (of course that’s where her 2 children attend) and 1 University. An afternoon visit to the Darwin Center proved demanding, subjected to 40 degree Centigrade temperatures (100 degrees Fahrenheit). We walked a quarter mile from the hotel to the Center, which was beautifully landscaped in a desert style. The highlight here was the preserved body of Lonesome George, kept in a climate controlled room. The hotel pool was a welcome finish to this excursion.
We were looking forward to catching up on emails with Wi-Fi at the hotel, however, there were severe problems in accessing anything, also having speed issues and complained to management who were not much help. It was only when a group of 30 late-teen-aged Danish women left en masse on our last morning that we realized they were sucking up all the capacity with their electronics in full use 24/7. So, at the last minute, we were able to catch up quickly and reach out to friends and family with whom we had not been able to contact due to being on the high seas.
Leaving this island to be transported to Quito, we ended up at the channel separating Santa Cruz and Baltra Island, our embarkation point. We were ferried across by locals in their boats, our luggage piled high on the bow. There were 10 of us at this point, as the Montanans had peeled off a day before to visit San Cristobal Island, which is home to 25% of the Galapagos 23,000 residents. Only 6 of us made it out of the airport in Quito for one more night, the other 4 parting company in Guayaquil and Quito’s Mariscal Sucre International Airport.
So ends our time in Quito and the Galapagos. Dispatch #4 has just the 2 of us making our way east over the Andes to a unique lodge 2 hours east of Coca, on a cliff overlooking the Napo River, headwaters of the Amazon.
Salud, Stan & Maggie