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| Blue -footed boobie |
Saturday, October 5, 2013
Isla San Cristobal
Galapagos
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| Higher up, the vegetation becomes lush |
It’s impossible to be in the Galapagos and not feel a sense of history… natural history, that is; the same sense of scientific revelation we felt in Cold Water Creek at the DNA museum and Dr. Watson’s research lab; the same awe for the power of nature we felt in coasting along Rio de Janeiro or traveling the Andes; a reverence for forces grander than the human will itself; the raw power of nature. Whether underwater or above ground, the Galapagos continue to be a source of amazement and inspiration. We came here with an agreement that we would make a financial sacrifice. Yes, cruising the Galapagos is outrageously expensive and getting dearer and more restricted every year. Park services and other agencies make sure they make the visitor pay for everything they do and see, overtly to protect the natural habitat, covertly to provide employment to the islanders, former fishermen who have depleted the local waters of all their resources. So, we sacrifice to the altar of tourism, determined to enjoy the experience (no sense in pain without pleasure!) We must agree that San Cristobal Island and its harbor are exceptionally clean and free of any kind of human pollution.
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| At lower altitude, closer to the coast, it{s dry |
It was some time after we dropped anchor in Wreck Bay that Karmela (our agent from YachtGala) brought on board an army of officials. But they did more than just fill out paperwork. They nearly tore the boat inside-out, looking for godknowswhat… Port Captain turned on all our navigation equipment, revised all emergency and safety gear, inspected hulls and engine rooms in a fashion that out-did even the U.S. Coastguards. The two gnomes from “Quarantine” snapped on their gloves and proceeded to dig into our drawers, feel inside our stacked shirts, investigate between our stored underwear, peer to the bottom of our spice drawer, detail every food lockers, fridge and freezer, looking for bugs or live cattle and crop, finding only a few old, dry shells from the Caribbean that we were ordered to stash away so as not to contaminate the local waters. They had to earn their $200 “Quarantine Inspection Fee” after all. Immigration and Park Services did their job too. Park Services dove under the hulls to inspect for cleanliness and barnacles (he could have dispensed since we had just repainted the hulls), and inspected our systems for grey and black water tanks. No holding tank on your yacht? You’ll be assessed a fine… called something else, but a fine nevertheless. Good! We passed with flying colors and the vacuum bagging of our provisions was a real big hit with the sanitation guys!
At last free to enjoy our stay, we took off on foot to the “Loberia,” the sea lions refuge. It’s the only place on the island where we also found marine iguanas. But the sea lions are everywhere, cute as they are – or nasty as they are once you realize that they consider guarding your boat as their private duty. As soon as we leave the boat, they take up residence of the aft deck, lounging until our return. Today we’re trying to hang round fenders to prevent them from climbing on board, but some big macho dude is sure to find his way up on deck. I wonder if we’ll be fined for cleaning our decks and dumping bleach-tainted water into the bay. So, if you cruise the Galapagos, don’t forget to bring enough barbwire to “wire” your boat against these pesky sea lions. FYI, they only sell barbwire by rolls of 300 meters here on the island… bring your own!
An all-day taxi tour took us to the “Galapaguera,” the land tortoise breeding center. As our 4x4 climbed to the top of the island, the vegetation and weather drastically changed. The dry and scrubby coast gave way to a lush and green interior where mango trees, orange and mandarins, avocado and papaya lined the road. Soon, a fine mist descended on us and we were in the clouds. We skipped our planned stop at El Junco, a 250-meter wide crater filled with supposedly crystal clear blue fresh water, 7 meter deep; we couldn’t see 250 yards ahead. So continued to MaryLu’s restaurant to order our lunch of orange peel-smoked wahoo.
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| JP peels oranges, while Marilú prepares the fire to smoke wahoo |
Puerto Chino is a wild beach ringed in black and red lava rocks, its turquoise waters roiling onto a white sand beach where sea lions doze where they fall: between rocks, lined up like canned sardines on the sand, or just playing with their pups.
The Interpretive Center was our last stop. It’s supposed to be a “must” activity, but found its 6th grade level presentation posters more geared towards schoolkids than adults. Still, I suppose it’s a good thing to be reminded that the islands represent a precarious habitat, especially for man, considering the scarcity and contamination of potable water. Who knows? In a jolt of survival of the fittest, the islands might just kick the humans out.
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| Snorkeling in the cut is a fun drift - Water temp 20 celsius |
We hesitated before booking our snorkeling trip to Leon Dormido. The water temperature is bout 21c (70F) which might seem like nothing to my California peeps, but mighty cold for us. Not since Catalina Island some 20 years ago had we worn any wetsuit thicker than 1 mm. But we dug out our old armors and helmets and went into battle. We declined the dive at $170/person and opted for the snorkel trip, “only” $90-a-pop (I warned you!!!) We have no regret. It was a splendid snorkel through the “tail” of the “Sleeping Lion.” The drift swim took us above Galapagos shark, turtles, bumphead hogfish three-time the size of those in Panama, and dozens of varieties of colorful wrasses.
But it was the sea creatures on the walls that took most of our attention. Like bright flowers on a multicolor wallpaper, we took them in succession: lime-green urchins, giant white barnacles, grey anemones, orange sponges, yellow corals, white-fringed brown feathers, crisp and clear. Once in a while, like underwater fireflies, bioluminescent organisms flashed an electric blue spark as we glided by.
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To top it all, sea lions trailed us and wanted to play. Not since Santa Barbara Island had we had the chance to dive and pirouette with these puppies. A lot of fun it was, even if I was shivering in my 2 layers of 1-mm suits (the hood helped tremendously.) JP was toasty in his old titanium suit which still fit him while my old one had..hmmm... shrunk!
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| Green sea urchins... each one seems to be living in simbiosis with a snail Any clue? |
To top it all, sea lions trailed us and wanted to play. Not since Santa Barbara Island had we had the chance to dive and pirouette with these puppies. A lot of fun it was, even if I was shivering in my 2 layers of 1-mm suits (the hood helped tremendously.) JP was toasty in his old titanium suit which still fit him while my old one had..hmmm... shrunk!
We’re doing laundry (great Little lavandería in town, the cleanest laundry I{ve ever gotten back) and Internet today, hoping to leave tomorrow for Santa Cruz Island. This, however, seems unlikely. Even though we’ve asked our agent to pull our Zarpes last Thursday for tomorrow Sunday, she has not answered any of our calls yesterday and we learned this morning that she is on the mainland for the weekend, not coming back till Monday… which means we might be stuck here till Tuesday. What appeared to be a fair start with the Yacht Gala agency 3 months ago has rapidly deteriorated due to total lack of communication on their part, and it now looks to me that our relationship with this particular agency is an experience unlikely to end well. Time will tell…
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| Mangroves by Isla Lobos... getting replanted after a tsunami wiped them out |
Till then, we’re rocking a bit at anchor today, but the anchorage is generally good.
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| Little Shell story.... |
Till then… dominomarie… about to cook a leg of GOAT that we purchased this morning at the local farmers’ market.
