You might have noticed it’s been a long
time between drinks, or blog posts in this case. Life has a habit of getting in
the way. We’re well and truly back home and our spectacular honeymoon is an
almost distant memory. But I’m committed to the cause and will take up where I
left off – on route to the Galapagos (thanks to some very detailed diary
writing).
The Galapagos is a little like the Taj
Mahal, in that no words you can possibly find in the Macquarie or create
Shakespeare-style can ever properly describe it. And even the photos I took of
it and its inhabitants – like the one-of-a-kind tree-trunk cacti growing in the
middle of a brittle black lava field, or frolicking sea lions harrassing their
mothers for food, or sunbathing iguanas posing among hundreds of bright red,
purple and orange crabs on a two-metre square pile of rock in the middle of the
ocean – fall well and truly short of capturing its complete uniqueness and
natural, relatively untouched beauty (no matter how great my camera was).
I understand now why Darwin asked for extra
time on the islands, so he could record the never-before-seen flora and fauna
he’d come across. It is truly a special and rare place. And well worth the
million dollars it cost us to visit.
Warning: this post will be ginormous
because I’m going to tackle the tour day by day.
7
May 2013
Of course, the first day of our seven-day Galapagos
Islands tour began with Chris and I heading into Quito to stuff ourselves silly
on huevo rancheros at our new local – The Magic Bean. Our feast consisted of a
tortilla topped with a mountain of beans, two fried eggs and approximately half
a kilo of melted cheese. The dish’s nutritional value and aesthetic appeal was
only enhanced by the hint of vegetable in the form of an inch of a sliver of
capsicum on top.
While delicious, this wasn’t the main
purpose of our trip into the city centre. We also booked a couple of day trips
to do when we got back from the Galapagos, and did a spot of impromptu shopping.
I restrained myself from buying any of the beautiful crystals (amethysts,
different quartzes, obsidian, agate and fluorite) in the market – mainly
because I didn’t know how I’d get any of them home.
That afternoon, we met some of our tour
group at the hotel. They were a lovely and lively bunch of Australians and
Brits, ranging in age from early 20s to late 50s. After our tour leader gave us
all the important details, we bonded over beer and wine at dinner, before an
early night.
8
May 2013
The real tour started on day two, when our
tour bus picked us up ridiculously early from our hotel – 4.30am. We piled onto
the mini bus, with our packed breakfasts in paper bags (these breakfasts
weren’t any better than the ones you actually got in the hotel restaurant in
the morning – stale muffin, orange ‘juice’ (cordial) and fruit – so most of us
quickly dispatched them into the bin at the airport). Our guide made sure we
had no fresh food (e.g. seeds, nuts or fruit) with us, which are understandably
banned on the Galapagos, checked us onto the plane and waved us through
security.
Our flight stopped in Guayaquil to pick up
and off load passengers, while we waited on board (we thought it was direct).
When we reached the Galapagos, a new – and shall we say much more animated and
abrupt – guide met us outside the Baltra airport. She hurriedly herded us onto
buses with other tourists. The bus took us to a canal, which we crossed on a
ferry, before boarding a different bus on the other side with just our group.
This bus took us to a port town, where we jumped onto dinghies that took us to
the boat – the Pelikano – that would be our home for the next four days. I bet
you’re exhausted just reading that. Imagine how we felt when we arrived!
Our guide talked enthusiastically the whole
way to the port. It was interesting to hear how the islands have changed. They
used to be very isolated and quiet, but recently got electricity, phone
coverage, TV stations, internet and more than one radio station. There are also
lots of hotels, bars, restaurants, discos and shops – I guess in comparison
with before, because I couldn’t see that many when we were there. When I was
about 14 years old (more than 20 years ago), I was going to go on a school trip
to the Galapagos, but it was cancelled. I imagine the islands must have been
extremely ‘rustic’ back then.
Vehicles are restricted to low speeds at
all times, and roadside signs with native animals and slogans like “Our lives
depend on you” on them to remind you of just how important and prized the
environment is here. The environment is also very diverse. The land around the
airport was almost desolate – rocky and sandy, with patches of scrub – but as
we neared and passed through towns, it changed considerably, with much more
dense green foliage and different coloured soil. Even the temperature changed,
becoming cooler and less sticky as we crossed the island.
On board the Pelikano we had lunch, met the
other people on our tour (our group joined an existing group on the boat) and
were shown to our rooms. The rooms were quite cosy, but very clean and
comfortable, and nicely set up. I bagged the bottom bunk, due to my tendency to
seasickness and the need for hasty access to the bathroom. Our room was next to
the Bridge, which meant we could hear the captain and crew’s radio and
conversation. All. The. Time. It wasn’t so bad really, because once the boat
stopped rocking and we weren’t being thrown about in our beds trying not to
vomit, we both slept very well and didn’t hear a thing…
Our snippy airport guide left us in the
capable hands of Oswaldo (Os), our onboard guide for the islands. He was a
lovely guy in his early 30s maybe, born in the Galapagos but raised on the mainland.
Os had a penchant for fitness and weight training, and loved working out on the
boat’s roof and showing off the results on the dinghies while he waited for us.
Os ran us through the itinerary and safety briefing, before taking us into town
to show us around the Darwin Centre.
From the minute we stepped off the
dinghies, it was like a David Attenborough documentary crossed with Jurassic
Park. The big, black, cracked volcanic rocks where we docked were covered in
hundreds of red crabs and sea iguanas basking in the sun (and blocking the
path).
The Darwin Centre is a conservation
project, where tortoises, iguanas and other animals and plants from different
islands are kept, cared for and bred. The most famous tortoise, Lonesome
George, died in 2012. He was the last of his kind and before he died, George
failed to mate with other tortoises from neighbouring islands who had similar
genes, so his line is now extinct. It’s a pretty sad tale. When we were
visiting, his body was in America being stuffed and upon its return, it will be
housed in a memorial building.
Tortoises and land iguanas are kept in
separate groups in outdoor pens, with plants and landscapes like those on their
home islands. Land iguanas are also kept separately from each other because
they tend to fight. Each island has a slightly different species of tortoise
from the other islands. In the Darwin Centre, their shells are marked with
symbols so researchers know who is who and where they’re from. The tortoises we
saw ranged from a couple of years old (quite small) to 80 plus years old (the
big, slow, regal-looking ones).
It’s sad to think there used to be hundreds
of different tortoises, and now their numbers are so few. While this is a part
of nature, with some wiped out due to volcanoes and other natural causes, man
killed a huge number of them. Over the years, locals ate tortoises and their
eggs. Fishermen captured tortoises and kept them onboard their boats for meat –
preferring the females who are lighter and easier to carry, further reducing
procreation. When the islands were a jail, prisoners who were dying of hunger
and thirst killed tortoises and iguanas for meat and eggs, and drank their
blood. Iguanas were also slaughtered, shot for sport by American soldiers
stationed at the Galapagos Islands during World War II, and Ecuadorean police running
the jails. Animal predators are a problem for tortoises and iguanas as well,
with native hawks and introduced cats and dogs taking eggs and young.
The Darwin Centre is also home to many
other animals and birds, including pretty little lava lizards – gecko-like
creatures that would blend perfectly into the lava rock if it wasn’t for their
bright red faces and necks – and finches that sing happily as they bathe in
puddles and flit from tree to tree.
I say trees, but most of the tree-like
flora is a tall cacti. In mature plants, the hollow trunk looks like a normal
tree trunk on the outside – smooth, thick and hard, but in young plants, it is
covered in spikes to stop tortoises eating it. Its big, flat, green and spikey ‘leaves’
look like those on more traditional cacti. Its flowers are bright yellow and
daisy-like, blooming from random nodes across leaves. Like all of the other
flora on the islands, these cacti are protected. No one is immune to this law –
including politicians. Apparently one local mayor was building a house on an
island and chopped down a tree cacti that was in his way. He was charged and in
jail within two hours.
After our tour of the centre, we were given
time to stock up on supplies for the tour. Naturally, ours included chocolate,
mosquito repellant and seasickness tablets. Thankfully we only needed to have a
couple of tablets each, because if we went easy on the booze and were asleep
just after dark, we felt fine. But the chocolate and mosquito repellant were
quickly spent! Actually, it’s probably my penchant for chocolate that makes me
so appealing to mosquitos.
As we waited for the dinghies to take us
back to the Pelikano after shopping, we took turns to take photos with a sea
lion flaked out, sunbaking on a pier ramp. He or she looked so peaceful and
relaxed, and not at all bothered by the stream of tourists bobbing down at a
safe distance for a happy snap.
On board the Pelikano, Os had run us
through the rules of the Galapagos Islands. They include:
·
not touching any plants or animals
·
not feeding any animals
·
not taking any part of the
Galapagos home (including plants, animals, rocks or shells)
·
keeping to the path at all
times
·
staying two metres away from
any animal at all times (you must back away if they approach you).
This last rule was quite difficult to
follow at times, because the animals are so well treated, they show no fear of
humans. Instead, they hog piers or rocks where dinghies dock, or pop up below
or beside you from out of no where when you are swimming, wanting to check you
out and play.
Back on board, we had a welcome drink and
hung out in the bar area, where Os briefed us on the next day and we met the
rest of the crew.
For our first night, the crew all dressed
up in their best, professional clothes. And for the rest of the trip, it was
shorts or pants and t-shirts! Jimmy was our waiter and go-to guy for
everything, but most importantly for drinks and snacks. He made a mean
caipirinha and was always up for a laugh. Other
staff included the two guys who drove the dinghies, the captain (of course!)
and the chef. The chef sourced some veggie protein fake meat type food for me,
which was, well… interesting in a chewy, salty, oily kind of way. Bless him for
trying! But the veggies and salads and fruit were beautiful and plentiful, and
there was always dessert. On my travels I’m always amazed that chefs can
produce such a range of delicious and special food on the go, with such basic
and limited resources, while at home we all clamber for the latest kitchen
gadgets and big ovens and still struggle to produce anything remotely as tasty!
That first night set the routine for the
rest of the evenings on board. Early evening drinks followed by a debriefing/briefing
over a cocktail, dinner and bed at around 8pm (before it got too dark and
rocky). We needed early nights. Our days started early, were long and active,
and by evening we were exhausted and fell asleep almost as soon as our heads
hit the pillow.
9
May 2013
Overnight we’d made our way to Isabella
Island, with a very choppy journey that almost saw us thrown to the floor of
our cabin from our bunks. We all woke quite tired, but with Os’ promise of
possible dolphin sightings in the early morning, most of us were up and on deck
just after sunrise. But no joy!
We spent the morning walking across old,
black lava fields at Moreno Point. The rocky ground crunched beneath us like
something from space. It was a perfect, beautiful moonscape, but less dusty. It
was aerated and light, alternating between sharp, jagged rocks and flat,
brittle slabs. We leapt across gaping cracks and mini ravines, following the
path marked out by white posts. It was a really hot morning, with the sun
scorching our heads, shoulders, necks and backs, and the heat radiating off the
ground. More of the tree cacti and native grasses dotted the area, surprising
considering how arid and stony it is.
Occasionally we’d come across a little pond
or lake, areas where the lava tunnel had collapsed and the sea had made its way
inland. In this water, we spotted fish, tortoises and white-tipped sharks. We also
saw a single flamingo near one water hole, and several flightless cormorants at
another. They were the first cormorants we’d seen on the trip. They are very
odd-looking creatures that hobble around on land with big, webbed feet and tiny
wings that look like an after thought. We soon learned that despite this
awkwardness on the land, they are extremely fast and graceful in the water. They
loved to dart swiftly past our faces and through our legs, nipping at our
ankles, while we snorkeled in the sea.
In the distance, in the middle of the
island, we could see one of the many volcanoes on the island, covered in lush
green and grey vegetation. Such a contrast to the ground over which we walked.
Back on the Pelikano, we had morning tea
before our first foray into the sea. We marveled at the huge schools of fish,
all different colours and shapes and sizes, that surrounded us. Small neon ones,
leopard print ones, big stripy ones. They swarmed around the turtles and ate
the plants growing on the turtles’ shells. Turtles also moved slowly around us,
emerging from seemingly nowhere to suddenly be swimming underneath or towards
us, meaning we had to quickly back away to give them space. Penguins and
cormorants that we had seen awkwardly waddling on land or basking on rocks now darted
deftly between us. We followed the animals around until the cold drove us back
to the dinghies and the Pelikano.
While we lunched and rested, the crew took
us to Elizabeth Bay, where we spent the afternoon exploring the mangrove cove
areas. We (and another tour group which was on the same schedule as us – groups
must stick to the schedule they’re given) wove in and out of the mangroves,
spying on the turtles, birds, iguanas, and red and orange crabs.
The turtles gracefully, gently coasted
through the water, swimming in groups of two or three. Occasionally they’d lift
their heads out of the water for air before using their little flippers to
propel themselves back under and through the water. The dinghy drivers cut the
engines and use paddles to steer us through the mangroves’ low-hanging branches
and roots to get us closer to the animals, so we didn’t scare them with noise.
Back on board, we settled in for the
evening with a cocktail and snack. Our onboard evenings were quiet, mainly
because we were so spent from the day’s activities and heat. We’d have a drink
or two, listen to music, talk and watch the sun set over the water. When the
boat was stationary, we’d watch fish and sharks gathering in the water, waiting
for kitchen scraps and eating the small sea animals that lived on the hull.
When we travelled in the evenings, frigate birds escorted us, a male on one
side and female on the other. They flew low alongside the boat’s roofline,
dancing and bobbing and bowing in the wind.
That night we also had the first of the
tour’s ‘slide shows’. One of the group members, who filmed his snorkeling and
dives, showing us the footage he’d taken of the animals during the day. He’d
splice it together and put it to music as soon as we got back on the boat in
the afternoon. Then at tea time, we’d crowd around him in the bar, watching it
on his iPad. Because he dived much lower and ventured further out than the rest
of us, he’d usually seen animals we’d missed, like octopus and sharks. It was beautiful
to watch.
10
May 2013
This day started well, with us watching
dolphins splashing and playing in the water. We also discovered the
surprisingly successful combination of tomato and orange juice at the
smorgasboard that was breakfast. You may doubt or mock me, but try it. It
really does work!
Our morning excursion to Espinoza Point on
Fernandina Island featured my favourite animals of the trip – sea lions. They
are like big, furry, cuddly Labrador puppies, with huge, raucous personalities
and roars like lions. They spend hours lolling about sunbaking on the rocks and
sand, skin glistening and drying, before flipping and flopping their way back
into the sea. They talk and argue loudly with each other (we could hear them
long before we saw them). Young sea lions play fight, baring teeth and slapping
each other with their fins to claim spots in the sun and ledges into the sea.
Babies cry to their mums, nudging them and screaming for milk (even though
they’re old enough to be weaned) until their mums cave in and roll over to
expose their nipples.
The island is also home to loads of sea and
land iguanas, lizards, snakes, and bright red, yellow and purple crabs. It’s
dotted with the Galapagos cacti tree too. Not far from where we landed, a big
whale skeleton lies in the sand, bleaching in the sun. Someone had inserted a
seal skull for a head, which was more than a little disproportionate to the
rest of the bones. While we were admiring it, a snake appeared behind one of
the girls. An Australian guy in our group spotted it and told us all to stand
still while it made its way slowly past her. Os quickly came over and told us
it was harmless.
We followed the path around the point,
taking in the incredible scenery and spotting lizards and birds. The huge volcano
stood proudly in the centre of the island, overlooking the lush, fertile land
leading up to its peak, and around and below us, the black, jagged, fragile, brittle
lava rock that crunches under foot.
Before lunch, we snorkeled among huge
schools of different fish and turtles again. Those in the group who ventured
further and deeper (not me) were lucky enough to spot octopus, squid and iguanas.
After lunch, we explored Urvina Bay on
Isabella Island. We were careful to keep to the path, so we didn’t step on any
of the tortoise nests (innocuous dips in the sand) hidden in the sandy ridges
and beach. Big yellow-orange land iguanas plodded through the scrub beside the
path, watching us warily as we stepped over great chunks of coral. The coral
had been pushed up through the ground during earthquakes, or swept inland
during storms or when the island sank and rose from the sea.
We were lucky enough to spot six large
tortoises – one close to the path and the others further back in the bushes.
It’s apparently very rare to see them in the wild. We also saw two big tortoise
skeletons laying on the side of the path about half way into the walk. They had
been there some time, and the bone and shell was decaying and brittle.
When we reached openings in the scrub, we
could again see the lush green, dense vegetation stretching up to the peak of
the volcano in the distance. With so many different shades of green, it
reminded me of the Irish countryside.
The return trip to the beach where we’d
landed was tough, and some of the older members of the group took the dinghies
back while the rest of us scrambled (and fell) over slippery rocks. We helped
each other over streams and boulders, as crabs and cormorants looked on. We
recovered with a dip in the sea and some more snorkeling.
As the last of us got into the dinghy to go
back to the Pelikano for the evening, a young sea lion came down from the
rocks, calling out to us. One of the guys jumped back in the water with him,
and we filmed the two of them playing in the water. The sea lion mimicked
everything he did. Their heads bobbed up and down in turn, and their feet and
fins disappeared underwater, as they splashed and laughed at each other. It was
pretty amazing – and amusing – to watch.
11
May 2013
The day began with birds and dolphins at
sunrise, and wafts of the chef’s infamous pancakes filtering out into the
dining room. His cooking was always very good (well, apart from the faux meat),
but his pancakes were something special. A delicious start to the day!
By this stage, we were experiencing sea
lion- and tortoise-fatigue (first world problems). So when we reached James
Point on Santiago Island, our attention was firmly on boobies. The blue-footed
avian variety, that is. These boobies are another strange looking bird, with
grey wings, white chests and comical bright blue feet that make them resemble a
Looney Tunes character. Some circled high above our heads before shooting down
fast into the sea to catch fish and soaring high again. Others waddled across
or perched on rocky ledges, preening themselves and spreading out their wings to
dry in the sun.
Avoiding more turtle nests, we walked
around the point, following the rocky, sandy, lava-y path. Sea lions lolled
about or fought over the sunny rock ledges that offered quick access to the
water. Lava lizards darted off the path and into the scrub. Spiders swung in
the breeze in their huge webs, stretched between cacti trees and bushes. Across
the water, we could see the neighbouring islands in the distance, and around us
the different types of vegetation reaching up to the highlands and volcano
inland.
Os told us about his grandfather, who lived
on this island when he was a boy. At that time, the island was still a jail.
Police and soldiers killed what little wildlife there was for sport, and
regularly starved, beat and generally mistreated prisoners, killing about two people
every day. The island was pretty dry and desolate, so there wasn’t much to
sustain the prisoners, who hunted animals for meat, drank their blood and ate
their eggs.
One day, the prisoners were working in the
township on a chain gang and asked the townspeople for some water and food. The
townspeople couldn’t give them anything, because the police and soldiers had
threatened to kill them if they helped the prisoners. The prisoners didn’t know
about these threats and just thought the townspeople were being greedy. So,
after years of the police and soldiers mistreating them, and the townspeople
refusing them water and food, the prisoners decided they’d had enough and mutinied.
(As an example of how harsh the conditions were, there were originally about
300 prisoners on the island, but at the time of the mutiny, there were about
26.)
The prisoners killed the police and
soldiers, and planned to take the town. One prisoner didn’t think this was fair
on the townspeople, so ran ahead to warn them. Because of his warning, the
people managed to escape. Some hid in lava caves, taking fruit and root
vegetables with them. They stayed there – with the prisoner who had warned them
– for three or four days. Among this group was Os’s grandfather and his family.
Other townspeople barricaded themselves in the town church, which the prisoners
wouldn’t touch because they were so religious.
Eventually the prisoners were caught or
killed by reinforcements, and the mutiny ended. The prisoner who had warned the
townspeople about the mutiny was pardoned for his good deed, and settled on the
island. He lived out his days in the mountains, where he built a church out of
stone by hand.
After some more snorkeling and lunch, the
next stop was Espamilla beach. Here, boobies also swooped and dived into the
sea, and mosquitos feasted on us (mostly me), despite latherings of mozzie
repellant. We walked inland to an old, dried up lake. In the centre of that
lake sat a lone turtle shell and skeleton. Os said the poor animal had likely
got bogged in the mud when it had come in to nest. Beside it, a shallow stretch
of water perfectly reflected the landscape – a mirror image of trees, bushes,
grasses, hills, rocks and sky. A group of ducks broke its surface to bath and
feed on bugs. The bushes beside us were covered in gorgeous flowers, upon which
wasps gorged themselves silly, buzzing happily in the petals and ignoring us.
Under the bushes, two birds did some kind of bizarre dance – taking it in turns
to puff up and prance around in the dust.
Back at the beach, we swam and snorkeled
some more. As we started packing up to leave, a stunning Galapagos hawk swooped
in. It landed on a mangrove branch on the edge of the scrub, just a few metres
from us. Os said it had probably come to snack on turtle eggs. We quietly took
photos of it, while it watched us keenly and curiously before flying further
into the scrub near a nest. It was a majestic-looking bird, sleek and smart and
alert. It felt so special to have seen it, and for it to have posed so
patiently for photos.
That afternoon we sat on the deck of the
boat, drinking cocktails and listening to music as we sailed through Bucaneer’s
Cove – a strange strip of rock formations that each resemble all sorts of
things, including a Buddha, a praying face, an elephant and a turtle. The land
is made of multi-coloured layers of sand and stone, in dramatic sweeping
layers. The top and cliffs are dotted with cacti, and blue-footed boobies, sea
lions, seals, iguanas, crabs and frigate birds fight over the rocks that jut
out of the sea below. The animals were lined up on the rocks in groups, almost
as if they were saying goodbye to us.
Before dinner, the crew lined up to wish us
well. We thanked them for their hard work and help, then drank Jimmy’s last
delicious cocktail – a lethal mix of sweetened condensed milk, rum and fruit. I
had two. Our last dinner on board was a veritable feast, featuring a huge iced
cake for dessert, which we shared with the crew. We stayed up late for once
(9pm!) – drinking and dancing and listening to music. The frigate birds
returned as our escorts, and the seas were fairly still, making sleep
relatively easy for our last night onboard.
12
May 2013
We were a little sad to leave the boat
today (but also glad to be getting back onto solid land). Chris and I welcomed
the morning from the bar area, taking in the spectacular views during our last
hours onboard. Sea lions, pelicans and boobies (blue-footed, masked and Nasca)
were all feeding and basking in the morning light on the rocks we sailed by. We passed by more stunning landscapes on
Daphne Island. The layers of the land were all different colours and shades –
red, orange, black, grey, yellow, purple. The sheer cliff faces were decorated
with trees and cacti, and poo from the myriad of birds who perched in them.
Little caves and coves dotted the shoreline, where water was slowly eroding the
land.
Eventually the boat docked at Santa Cruz
again and we began the mammoth trip back to quito – a bus to the airport, two
planes back to Quito and another bus back to our hotel. We’d splashed out on a
flash suite (but only paid the same) because our previous room was so bad. Once
the hot water issues were resolved, it was great. It was the second highest
room in the hotel, with loads of space, great views of the city (and its
storms), a kitchenette (so we could make our own breakfasts) and a lounge area.
We went for a walk to stretch our legs and stocked
up on supplies (including sickeningly sweet soy milk in a can and dulche de
leche in a big tub, which sadly wasn’t all I had dreamed it would be). Quito really
is a beautiful and interesting city to walk around, with loads of little
squares, parks and old buildings. Going back to Quito even felt a bit like coming
home, because we’d been there on and off for a couple of weeks, knew our way
around and the people there are generally quite friendly.
That night we joined the rest of the tour
for a farewell dinner in an authentic Ecuadorean restaurant in a funky street
in town. I have since replicated one of the dishes served there (and elsewhere
in Ecuador) – soup with avocado slices on top. Surprisingly, it works! After
dinner, we said our goodbyes to the rest of the group in the hotel foyer and
headed upstairs to our suite, to spend a very civillised evening watching
b-grade movies, reading, writing and eating chocolate in a big comfy bed in a
room that wasn’t rocking. Bliss.
