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| Masked boobies |
October 12, 2013
Puerto Ibarra, Isla Floreana, Galapagos
01*16.54S – 090*29.468W
Floreana, historically steeped in mystery, vanishing bodies, and pirate lore, seemed romantic to me; perhaps it was just the name… “Floreana.” But instead of finding mystery, I found revelation, scientific wonders, competition, and adaptation. Imagine seeing at the same instant penguins in the water and tropic birds above! Or zipping up your third layer of jackets when the GPS reads 00° latitude: cold at the Equator? Or waking up in the fog, the water at 20c while the air dipped to 16c and you can’t even see the dried-up slopes of the volcanoes. The Galapagos are a land of natural wonders and Floreana is no exception.
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| Puerto Ibarra - Hotel Wittmer Our agent, Johnny Romero, somehow managed to get us authorization to stop at Floreana on our way to Isabella. Once again we were the only yacht at the anchorage, well dug-in in front of the historic Hotel Wittmer and its black sand beach. The bay, either to the right or the left of the beach, is pure volcanic rock, but this was a good spot (see waypoint in title) with easy approach (01*16.0S – 090*30.0W.) The anchorage can get a bit rolly in calm conditions. We were still dropping anchor when the Port Captain was making circles around the boat and made sure we were well dug in, asking us to stop by the Capitania. Although it’s possible to drop your dinghy and either leave it on the beach at the Hotel Wittmer (coarse sand, so be ready to push-and-carry) or tie it (with stern anchor) to the concrete municipal dock, it’s safer for the dinghy and for your back to just call the water taxi (Mauricio, CH 16) to take you to shore ($1). The sea lions are fearless and love dinghies! |
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| Blue-footed boobie |
We could have gone on the highland tour (walk 7km each way or hire a car for $50/person) to see the old Wittmer farm, pirate caves and look out from the top of the island, but the overcast weather did not really appeal to us. We could have visited the Hotel Wittmer and we tried, but it was closed and we only could peer through the doors. Or we could have visited the “loberia,” the sea lion beach, but we were having our fill of sea lions. So much for the land. Instead, we asked Mauricio to take us on a panga trip to the best coves and snorkeling on the island. Sure, he charged $130 for the 2½ hour trip, but we didn’t regret a penny!
The panga trip was fantastic. Along the changing volcanic shoreline, we coasted by rookeries of blue-footed boobies and masked boobies, surprised a few great blue herons lunching on red crabs, spied on nocturnal seagulls, spotted a curlew on the prowl, all the while looking for penguins.
A flight of tropicbirds shriek overhead, all red beaks, charcoal eyes and streaming tails; but no penguin.
A black-and-rust marine iguana crawled up to the blow-hole in the lava rock; petrels wheeled around on their wingtips; but no penguin.
We pushed on to snorkel at the “Corona del Diablo,” a nightmarish circle of jagged lava rock, and dropped into the current. Turtles and Galapagos shark, and “Tintorera” sharks (a kind of local white tip shark) were quietly cruising below us, while we found our way through thousands and thousands of reef fish: angelfish, parrotfish, wrasses of all kinds, hawkfish… but no penguin.
At Punta Cormorant, the sun peeked out for a minute, just to give us a hint of the splendor of the colors, and if we saw stingrays under the boat, we had no sighting of flamingos… and no penguin.
At the “Mirador de la Baronesa,” the sun had hidden again and we only guessed at the magnificence of the bay, imagining the “Baronnesse” sitting on her lookout over a century ago, hoping for a ship—any ship—to come into the bay. We found history there… but no penguin.
Of course, we stopped at the “Post Office Bay,” and I dropped an envelope into the barrel of ship mail, wondering if our kids would ever get it. This envelope has lots of competitors in the way of hundreds of postcards (not stamped). But I made sure our mail had a survival edge. I chose a #10 envelope, stamped it with our “M/Y DOMINO” ship stamp, labeled it “SHIP MAIL” in red, water-proofed the ink with Scotch tape, and finally stuck a “Forever U.S. mail stamp” on it. A yachtie might take pour envelope to any U.S. shore and just drop it into a postal box… who knows? Here, we found a bit of competitive fun… but no penguin.
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| Nocturnal seagulls |
By 1600, the cloud cover was complete, the mist descending once again and we were ensconced in our jackets while Mauricio made one last stop along the lava shoreline… “Pinguino!” he cried. “Donde? Donde?” There, on a ledge, barely over one-foot tall, a little Galapagos penguin was looking at us. He played indifferent, then he played shy, then he pointed his beak to his fellows, a half-dozen of them, swimming leisurely along our panga. So very little and so very cute! Tropicbirds screamed across gray sky above.
We got back to DOMINO shivering but happy, made a hot cabbage-and-fava bean soup and roasted a farm chicken we had bought in Santa Cruz, steaming up the windows and slowly warming up. The swell was coming in and rocking the boat, sloshing the 2,300 gallons of fuel around the tanks to the point of making us dizzy. But really, we were dizzy from the sights of the day… penguins and tropicbirds in the same spot… amazing!
More on Floreana:
MARKET – At times, the locals come down from the highlands and bring their local products to small kiosks in front of the Junta Municipal.
BUS – We noticed a couple of trucks with benches parked in the village. The busses, we supposed. But nobody was around to give us any info on that.
DRIVER FOR HIRE – Orjel (phonetic spelling) is the “blue truck” driver who will take you on a tour of the highland for $50 – Just have Mauricio call him.
INTERNET – There is an “Internet Hotspot” in the village, just in front of the Junta Municipal, but not always turned on. Perhaps on market day?
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| ARRIVING flOREANA |
INFO – The Junta Chief is the one in charge of the island and will send you a driver, a guide or whatever you need. We stopped by his office but it was closed. Perhaps on market and Internet day? In the end, the Port Captain and water taxi Mauricio were the best source of information and quite helpful.
We’re not staying here another instant… the roll-and-slosh are getting the best of us. Off to Isla Isabella. Till then…
dominomarie