The
swells out on the open ocean towered above us. Our little boat lurched this way
then that. The three 200 horsepower Yamaha engines powered us up the slopes of
the waves then, after a brief pause at the top, we came crashing down in the
troughs, waiting for the next wave to take us for a ride.
The
inter-island boats that transfer visitors from one of the Galapagos islands to
the next are not luxury liners by any means. The best way to describe them is
that they are the size of a mid-sized fishing yacht that has had its interior
gutted and replaced with simple benches along the outside walls providing
seating for up to 24 passengers. The one we were on was taking us From Santa
Cruz Island to Isabella Island and its main town of Puerto Villamil, about two
and a half hours away.
I was
thankful for my seasickness pills for they helped to keep my morning breakfast
inside my stomach while we were underway. Although, matters got dangerously close
at times. I think the coffee, yogurt, and granola that I ate earlier took
several rounds around my internal organs, first stopping at my kidneys, paying
a visit to my spleen, and then, out of concern and compassion, looked in on my
spine that was getting more compressed by the minute as the boat bottomed out
with a crash in the toughs between the waves.
On and
on this went. “Do you think we are getting close?” MK asked with pleading eyes.
Hopeful, I looked at my watch. I tapped it to make sure it was working. Only
fifteen minutes had passed. If I had gills, they would be a chartreuse green
right now. Closing my eyes helped. Trying to doze off did so likewise. Finally,
after what seemed like eternity, the engines cut power as the captain motored our
barf barge into the quiet waters of the port area.
Puerto
Villamil is a tiny, remote town. If you ever needed to escape from the law or
to get off, way off, of the grid, this would be the place to come to. The main
drag is a dirt street. Dogs lie in the middle of it for it is cooler than doing
so on any other nearby paved surfaces. Grocery stores have a few meager, highly
priced items on their shelves. Dinner one night was a couple of empanadas
cooked by a lady with her burner out on a sidewalk. We sat on the steps of an
adjacent building to have our meal. There are no banks or ATMs on this island,
so we anticipated our expenses for the next several days and stocked up on cash
back at Santa Cruz accordingly.
 |
| Puerto Villamil's main street. |
 |
| Waiting for our empanada dinner. |
Like
the other islands, small pick-up trucks serve as taxis. Most people, however,
get around by walking or riding a bike, which for the following day is what we
decided to do. We arrived early at the bike shop around the corner from our
hotel and then pedaled back to the dock area where Pearl Shell Bay had some of
the finest snorkeling we had experienced so far here in the Galapagos. Colorful
fish and bright coral were topped by turquoise green waters. At one time, a
marine iguana swam alongside me as I made my way past lava rock and mangrove
trees.
After
drying off, we headed west for a leisurely all-day bike ride up and down the
sandy coastal road. Evidence of a penal colony constructed by prisoners back in
the 1940s was found at the far end. Elsewhere, we explored where various trails
took us. One was through a dark tunnel of mangroves that delivered us to an
estuary. We walked down the river’s twists, turns, and side channels against
the rising tide, careful to look behind us to remember certain landmarks
knowing that our return may be in conditions not similar to that when we first
started. At the mouth of the river, pelicans swooped and dove into the water
right in front of us, as if we weren’t there at all.
All
was delightful save for the time MK got stung by a bee or a wasp, we didn’t know
which. The bite mark swelled and hives broke out all over her skin. She
suffered with some pain and a lot of itching for the rest of the day.
Under
the watchful eyes of iguanas and sea lions, we later sunbathed on a remote
stretch of beach, shared only with a handful of surfers honing their skills.
Just before we left, for the sun was starting to set, a man and his young son
arrived and were soon out on the water. It was lovely to watch; a father
teaching his son how to surf, smiling proudly as the boy took on wave after
wave. We smiled too while the setting sun warmed our back and the spray from
the surf cooled our faces.
The
following day found us out on the water. The captain of our boat expertly
negotiated our vessel through the giant swells and cresting waves while at the
same time threading the needle through coral and exposed lava rock formations
Once
safely into the sheltered bay, we disembarked to walk on hardened lava adjacent
to former lava tunnels that have since collapsed and filled with ocean water.
The area was a perfect breeding ground for various birds, most notably the
blue-footed booby. We watched their mating dance and ritual with the humor it
deserves. They preen, then lift up the sky-blue feet, first one, then the
other, all to attract a female to breed with. It was quite a show.
Leaving
the sheltered cove took more mariner skill than entering. Where the captain
could use the swells to surf into the cove, he had to dodge them to leave it.
He steered the wheel this way and that, revved the engines full throttle, then
abruptly put them into neutral and, at times, even put the boat into
reverse. These were all maneuvers he had to employ to dodge the 15-foot
cresting waves and to find a way out. A boat behind us was doing the same. At
times, it was pretty much airborne as it topped a wave just in time before the
foam and turmoil would have swamped it. Given our motion and jostling, I’m sure
our boat too was airborne on more than one occasion.
After
we arrived at another inlet, we donned our snorkel gear and fins and for
the next hour or so swam among Pacific seas turtles, sea horses, fish the kinds
of which are too numerous to count or describe, and a school of about a dozen
golden stingrays all illuminated by shafts of sunlight that penetrated the
ocean’s surface. Our guide took us into several small sea caves where ten
white-tipped sharks lie on the sandy bottom, seemingly resting before their
next feeding period.
 |
| All underwater pictures taken by our guide, Paco. |
An
hour plus of being in the water breathing through nothing but a snorkel tube
was enough for most of us. Our ride back to port took us past exposed rocks on which more blue-footed boobies roosted. At several points, giant manta rays,
the size of a VW bug, surfaced alongside our boat.
Our
day concluded with a glimpse of flamingos in a nearby lagoon on the edge of
town along with some quiet beach time for rest and reflection on a wonderful
day in the Galapagos.
Cerro
Negro is one if a half dozen or so volcanoes in Isabella Island. Like the
others, none of them are dormant and have all been active in recent decades. It
is at Negro’s caldera that we joined a group to hike and explore our last day
in the island.
Simon
was our guide. Being born in the U.K., he wasn’t eligible to become a resident
of the Galapagos save for one tiny issue. He married an Ecuadorian girl who was
born in the Galapagos which allowed him to become a resident as well. MK was
smitten with him. With his British accent, bilingualism, good looks, and
height, she thought he was a “tall drink of water.”
 |
| Simon, our guide. |
While
we have seen a lot of the outdoors and of the natural world, it always amazes
me just how vast this planet is. And when we reached the caldera’s rim, I was
again reminded of this. It is six miles across, four and a half miles wide, and
had a circumference of 26 miles. Fortunately, the Ecuadorian government hasn’t
saw fit to stage a marathon around it.
The
surface of the caldera is in places speckled with vegetation but in many other
places it is jet black with recent lava flows. In 2005, half of the caldera was
filled with molten lava and it’s now cooled, black stone was very
evident. We could see hot gases being vented from fissures on the far
side. On occasion, we could smell the sulphur depending on how the wind was
blowing.
Further
on, we descended from the rim and down its north slope. We walked through one-hundred-year-old
lava fields that were now hosting some plant life. Cacti and a few shrubs had
taken hold. Wildlife was scant. Although, we did see a land iguana (as opposed
to the ubiquitous marine iguanas that are seen everywhere at the coastline).
It’s yellow coloring helped it blend in with the exposed sulphuric and oxidized
irons in the rock. Simon who has hiked through here many times said that he has
only seen one on a half dozen occasions.
After
another couple of hundred yards, we were into the moonscape of lava flows from eruptions
as recent as 2018. As far as the eye could see, coal-black lava rock blanketed
a path all the way down to the far distant ocean on Isabella’s western shores.
A lucky few in tour boats passing at the time saw and recorded the
spectacle.
Being full of air pockets, the lava rock is relatively light weight given its size. For those bowling ball size and bigger, you could easily lift them using only two fingers.
Beyond,
in the barely discernible distance, was Fernandina Island, the most active of
all the islands in the Galapagos archipelago. It was thought that volcanic
activity wiped out the endemic species of land tortoises there (an event of
natural extinction as opposed to an extinction caused by human activities). However,
a female tortoise was recently discovered there and brought back to a sanctuary
on Santa Cruz. It is anticipated that funding will be secured for future
expeditions to Fernandina in hopes of finding more, especially males, to keep
the unique DNA of this rare species intact.
Our
ten-mile hike came to end and we returned to town late in the afternoon. We
took the time back at our hotel to pack and prepare for our next adventure for
our travels will now take us to San Cristobal Island tomorrow.
A four minute video of our time in the Galapagos is at the following link:
Comments
Post a Comment