Isabela

Our signal to get out of bed this morning was hearing the anchor drop in Urbina Bay of Isabela Island. We dressed in swimsuits, or had suits on under clothing, After breakfast, we collected our wetsuits and snorkeling gear and made a wet landing on the beach.

The beach was marked by depressions where the giant sea turtles had laid their eggs during the night, and the tracks in the sand where the turtles had returned to the sea. Each turtle lays approximately 120 eggs.

 

One, or perhaps two, will result in a turtle that reaches sexual maturity and is able to create another generation. Most of the rest will become prey to birds or other animals in the first days or weeks of life.

On our hike, we saw several of the adult turtles feeding on land. Our tour director, Alejandra, pointed out several examples of turtle scat, which demonstrated the differing diets chosen by individuals. We noted that some individuals had been feeding on the Galapagos “poison apples,” a small fruit, sort of like a crabapple, that is highly toxic to most animals, but which the turtles can tolerate. The poison apple trees are so toxic that human skin is painfully irritated even by touching the bark of the tree, so we had to watch out for these trees as we made our way on the trail.

We also encountered a few land iguanas, which look very much like the sea iguanas we saw yesterday, but are the color of sand, rather than the color of the dark gray volcanic rocks, so that each species is well camouflaged in its own environment. These land iguanas also tend to be more solitary, not hanging out together in large groups like their sea-adapted cousins.

Large black bees were buzzing around some of the flowers, and these, too, are a unique species here in the islands. A very large pair of Galapagos hawks kept an eye on us from their perch, high in a tree.

We were scheduled to snorkel from the beach, but Alejandra didn’t like the look of the water conditions. After yesterday’s experience with a couple of people getting into trouble in the rough water, I think she was being extra cautious. So our snorkel gear went unused and the zodiac was called to return us to the boat.

As soon as we were back on board, the boat began heading northwest, along the west coast of Isabela. We relaxed on the sun deck (which on this boat has quite a bit of shade) as the boat motored along. The temperature was very pleasant. We did some reading, but also had a chance to see manta rays leaping from the water. Frigate birds flew around the boat, sometimes swooping by us only a few feet away, or perching on the ship’s radar dome above us.

We arrived at a place called Tagus Cove, along Isabela’s western shore. This is a very protected area in which ships have anchored for the last couple centuries — including Charles Darwin’s HMS Beagle, pirate ships, and whaling vessels. 

Because we had skipped the morning snorkeling, was arrived a bit ahead of schedule, and found several other tourist boats anchored here, as well. All but one of them departed shortly after our arrival, but a couple others arrived to take their places. This scheduling is how the national park keeps any one spot from becoming overcrowded.

One evidence of so many sailors having visited here in the past is the presence of a great deal of graffiti on the rock walls above the cove. Most consists of names and dates of the “Kilroy was here” sort. Some are carved into the rock, but most are painted. The earliest is a carving dated 1836 — just one year after Darwin’s visit — which we got to view close up.

At 2 p.m. we had the opportunity to go kayaking in the cove. We have done a fair amount of canoeing, and the two-person kayaks are really not too much different. We had to slow down several times to allow the others to catch up with us, but that gave us extra time to observe the flightless cormorants, the brown pelicans, and the Galapagos penguins who reside in the cove.

A Galapagos penguin on the surface

At the end of our route, five of us joined Alejandra for some snorkeling, while those who chose not to swim got back into a zodiac and returned to the boat. Mary was among those who opted not to hop into the cold water. Visibility was not particularly good, but we did get to swim with a few penguins who went shooting past us at great speed.

One swimmer became fatigued, and since the conditions were not optimal, Alejandra decided to call time for all of us and signaled the zodiac to come take us out of the water and back to the boat. A warm shower felt very good.

At 4:30 p.m. we set out from the boat in the zodiac once again, this time prepared for a dry landing on the rocks at the end of the cove. As we set out on our hike, this is where we saw the 1836 graffiti, and many others more recent, up close. We climbed a long set of wooden stairs, and from the top had an excellent view of the entire cove.

But the trail continued up the hill, and we were surprised to come to an overlook on the rim of a volcano crater that was on the side of the main cone. The lake at the bottom of the crater is brackish due to seepage from the sea.

The trail continued further with even better views of the crater lake, as well as “incense trees” on hillsides as far as the eye could see. These trees appear to be dead, but snapping off a branch proves that they are green soft, and very much alive. The sap does, indeed, smell like incense. A few trees are beginning to leaf, and the entire forest will do so soon, as the rainy season begins.

The trail extended all the way to the peak, from which we got a spectacular view. The way down was much faster and easier, and we got back to the boat just in time for dinner. The boat got underway immediately for our longest voyage of the trip, back over the northern head of Isabela and on to the island of Santiago.

Immediately following dinner we had a briefing about the following days’ schedule. And after that, Alejandra took us out onto the deck to see something special. One of the volcanoes on Isabela is currently active, and in the far distance we could see the faint orange glow of the eruption reflected against the overcast. It was quite a sight! (But too faint to photograph).

At about 9 p.m. I went to the bridge, where El Capitan allowed me to watch the GPS turn to 0.0.0 as we cross the equator from south to north. We have crossed the equator numerous times on this trip already, so it was really just an excuse to get a look at the bridge once again, this time at night. 

The blackness of the view out the window is quite amazing. There is absolute nothingness — on this overcast night, no moon, no stars, no lights on the shores of these uninhabited islands, just the blackest of nights. Like an aircraft pilot flying in full instrument conditions, the captain is completely dependent on his GPS, his radar, and ultimately, the good old fashioned magnetic compass that is mounted just in front of the ship’s wheel.

About 1 a.m. I got up to take care of necessary business, and took a moment to step out onto our balcony. By this time, we had rounded the north end of Isabela and were on our way south once again. That put us near the same erupting volcano, but on the other side and somewhat closer. There was the same orange glow in the clouds, but this time a much larger patch of sky was illuminated.

Iguana Island

The boat motored all night, crossing from the Southern Hemisphere across the equator around the north end of Isabela, the largest of the Galápagos Islands, and then turned south once again, crossing the equator once again from north to south.

About 5 a.m., the boat anchored off Point Espinoza of the island of Fernandia. After breakfast, we dressed for a dry landing and got into the zodiac to explore Fernandia. There were two other boats anchored nearby, both with larger groups than ours, So when all of the zodiacs landed, it was relatively crowded — meaning that we could actually see other people, even if the weren’t usually close enough to talk to.

Fernandia was covered with sea iguanas. There were hundreds of them! They sunned themselves on the black volcanic rock — blending in so well that they were sometimes hard to see. 

Many ignored us. Some of the big males made a show of bobbing their heads at us and opening the mouths wide, trying to show their dominance and guard their territory.

We saw two males facing off with each other over some perceived infraction. As the day warmed, we saw some head to the water to forage for food. Sea iguanas, as cold-blooded reptiles can only stay in these cold waters a short time before they need to come back to shore and warm up in the sun once again.

Sea lions were also abundant here, and they seemed to coexist with the iguanas without much difficulty. The bright red-orange “Sally Lightfoot” crabs we’ve seen almost everywhere were abundant here, too.

The island is also home to the unfortunately named Blue-Footed Boobie, a bird that actually has blue feet, but is a skilled hunter, diving into the sea like a dive-bomber when it spots tiny fish. Frigate birds, brown pelicans, and flightless cormorants were also using this island for their nests, and were easy for us to see.

The zodiac was late picking us up from the island and returning us to the boat, so we had a quick turn-around to get ready to go snorkeling. Once in our wetsuits, we jumped back into the zodiac and headed quite a distance to a different spot near the shore of Fernandia, where we were going to have the chance to see the sea iguanas actually swimming and feeding.

A starfish of unique type

This western side of the Galapagos gets different ocean currents, so the water is both colder and rougher than where we were previously. The wave action stirs up lots of material, so that the visibility is not as good as what we previously experienced. Mary and I were getting along pretty well, so we were a bit oblivious to the fact that a couple other group members were in some distress due to the waves and currents. So, we were a bit surprised when our tour leader abruptly ordered everyone back into the zodiac.

The zodiac took us to a somewhat more protected area behind some rocks, where the sea was not as rough. We re-entered the water, which was just as cold, and the visibility not a great deal better. Several large sea turtles were spotted, so we got to swim with the turtles. We were almost close enough to touch a couple of them, but followed the park rules and restrained ourselves from doing so. Also, a flightless cormorant swam right by us, passing only about a foot away.

Back to the boat once again, we had time for a quick shower before lunch. Meanwhile, the boat revved up its engines and took us southeast, toward Elizabeth Bay of the big island, Bahia Isabel.

At one point the engines stopped unexpectedly and the PA system called us to the front of the boat. Several Bryde Whales were feeding, and we got to watch them as the spouted.

Immediately following the impromptu whale watching, we were allowed, in small groups of three or four, to visit the bridge. The captain explained the GPS, radar, and other navigation aids, as well as the engine controls. We each got the opportunity to steer the boat, which is harder than it looks. The helm does not respond as immediately as in a car or airplane, so it’s easy to wind up with a serpentine course.

We had a quiet afternoon as the boat motored on, but we did get to see some manta rays leaping out of the water. It’s a behavior that allows them to shake off small fish that sometimes try to hitch a ride by attaching themselves to the ray’s back. It is also a display of dominance that helps attract mates and fend off challengers.

As soon as the boat anchored in Elizabeth Bay, we dressed for a long zodiac ride. There was no landing on shore, but we were able to closely observe boobies, sea lions, pelicans, and for the first time, Galápagos penguins, possibly the only species of penguins that lives and thrives in a tropical climate.

The zodiac took us into a mangrove forrest along the shoreline, a very still and protected channel of water, where we saw many turtles swimming, many coming right up to the side of the boat, completely unperturbed by our presence. The zodiac expedition became a bit longer than necessary, and we got pretty hot in the afternoon sun.

 

Fire!

As we slept, the boat moved to a different destination, Sullivan Bay of San Salvador Island, and dropped anchor at about 5 a.m. The water wasn’t always smooth, and it was a rough night for many on board.

There was an optional “pre-breakfast activity” at 6 a.m., just before dawn. Mary opted out, but I went down to the main deck and joined Alejandra, our tour leader, the single man in our group, and the couple from Illinois, Tom and Joan, the physicians.

We boarded the zodiac and were taken the short distance to shore for a “dry landing,” meaning that the zodiac could drive up to the rocks and allow us to step out without setting foot in the water. This was successful, but the sea mist made the rock wet and slippery near the shore, and we had to be quite careful until we got a dozen or so yards inland.

The rock here is a very young lava flow, documented as being only about 200 years old. As the lava came up from the volcanic vent, the top that was exposed to air cooled more quickly than that underneath, causing odd, rope-like patterns in the crust.

Also formed by this process were myriad bubbles and hollow areas beneath the crust. As the crust has cracked and fractured here and there (mostly due to iron veins that oxidized) the crust has broken, separated, and in some places collapsed.

The black lava flow supports only a few lichens and a scattering of tiny tufts of grass, springing up in the cracks. As a consequence, there is very little in the way of wildlife here on this barren rock — some tiny lizards, a species of orange grasshoppers, and near the sea, a few small crabs. Otherwise, it’s a perfect moonscape.

Despite the rough terrain, we moved pretty quickly. Alejandra said that she had never gotten so far down the trail with any previous group. We wound up making a complete loop, whereas most go only a ways, then turn back. By doing the full loop, we got into areas new to her, and at one point, even she had to open her backpack, get her camera, and take a couple photos.

The zodiac picked us up on the same rock, and we were back on the boat just in time for breakfast, again with dry feet.

Following the meal, we all changed into swimsuits and returned to the main deck for a briefing session in the library/lounge. After that instruction, it was time to get into our wetsuits and prepare for our first snorkeling experience.

The zodiac took us back to the same island, but this time we avoided the rocks and made a wet landing at a sand beach. Here, Alejandra provided more instruction, helping everyone get comfortable with their mask, snorkel, and fins.

Some of the experienced snorkelers were able to take off and go, and I could have joined them. But Mary has only had a couple of previous snorkeling experiences, and these were not necessarily positive. This time, she came armed with a mask with corrective lenses that allow her to actually see something. So I stayed with her as she got acclimated, until we could go out together.

The number and variety of fish just in this small area was rather astounding — definitely the best snorkeling experience I’ve ever had. We had been told by Alejandra that this area was a good place to see rays, but we didn’t spot any (we later saw some from the boat that jumped into the air). It was a fascinating and most enjoyable experience, and we stayed out for nearly an hour before the zodiac picked us up out of the water and took us back to the boat.

The boat set out for a 2-hour navigation around the island to a different bay, where a second snorkeling session was planned for after lunch. However, the captain received a “mayday” call on the radio from a day-cruise boat on fire. We were one of the closest vessels, so he turned the boat around and headed toward the emergency.

The thick, black smoke plume was visible from many miles away, and as we drew nearer, the huge orange flames were clearly visible on the stern and central superstructure of the boat.

The passengers had been transferred off the boat by another day cruise boat. A couple of small speedboats had arrived ahead of us, and had picked the last couple of crew members out of the water.

Other boats arrived and sent zodiacs with gas-powered pumps aboard to suck up sea water and spray onto the flames, but the bigger boats stayed back. Our crew broke out fire hoses and our captain maneuvered close to the fire. But he couldn’t get close enough for the water to reach the flames.

The hose from our boat was dropped to a zodiac from a different boat (possibly the boat that was one fire?) that was there, but had no water pump aboard. While our boat pumped the water, that zodiac took the end of the hose closer and helped in the effort as our crew watched.

Soon there were four zodiacs with hoses directing water onto the flames. The black smoke turned to gray and white, probably as the diesel fuel burned away and left only the structure of the boat itself to burn.

From the first call for help to the last effort, we watched the crews for about 2 hours, from roughly 11 a.m. until just after 1 p.m., but they never could get to the fire in the lower decks.

The boat began to go low in the water from the stern, and then to list slightly to starboard. From the time it started to go down until the time the tip of the bow disappeared was only about 2 minutes. It sank very quickly!

Amazingly, once the excitement was over, we found lunch waiting for us on the main deck. Of course, we were not in position for the afternoon snorkeling, so we had some siesta time after lunch as the boat navigated to Rabida Island for our next adventure.

Once again we collected our wetsuits, masks, fins, and snorkels on the main deck, and once prepared, boarded the zodiac. On the way, we spotted a fin on the surface of the water. Some immediately thought, “shark!” Others hoped, “dolphin!” It turned out to be (at least according to Alejandra) a giant, deep water sunfish — very rare to see in these shallow waters.

This time, our snorkeling location was quite a bit farther from the boat. Alejandra invited any who were inclined to join her as she scouted the location, looking primarily for rays. Only Joan, the doctor from Peoria joined her, while the rest of us waited on the zodiac. They found none.

We collected the two swimmers and the zodiac moved on to a different location, where we all entered the water. We saw swarms of fish, including some species that we had not seen in the morning. We also got very close to a few brown pelicans that were fishing in the area. They stood on rocks and watched us swim within four or five feet of them.

Back on the boat we enjoyed a quick shower to get the salt off, then prepared for a wet landing and short hike on Rábida. This is an island of red sand beaches, caused by high iron content in the volcanic soil.

There were many sea lions on the beach, including young pups that wanted to play with us, and juveniles in the water, playing with one another. On our walk, we saw several “lava lizards,” and many birds. These included a Galapagos Dove, plus a great many Blue-Footed Boobies, and brown Pelicans who put on quite a show diving for their evening meal. The pelicans sort of splash into the water for their catch, but the Boobies dive straight down like Olympic divers from a high board, making almost no splash at all.

The zodiac retrieved us from the beach, and we got another show from the Boobies on the way back to the boat. Before dinner, our evening briefing told us what to expect for tomorrow — another full day.

Tip Top II

Once again, Quito was cool, cloudy, and rainy. We left it behind to head for the airport, but we were delayed by a major traffic accident that had traffic backed across three lanes for well over a mile. Fortunately, Juan had allowed for such an eventuality, so we arrived at the airport in plenty of time.

Getting to the Galapagos involves some extra steps at the airport. First we had to line up for Covid screening. Nothing was computerized. The women inspecting our passport, vaccination card, and PCR test result document sat with clip boards and wrote everything down by hand — name, passport number, test date, etc.

There was also a special luggage screening to make sure we weren’t bringing any fresh fruit, seeds, plants, pets, or other agricultural goods to the Islands.

We have noticed that Ecuadorians apparently use middle names rather than first names. Our passports have all three names, so that is how the travel company registered us with the hotel, the airlines, etc. So we got through the airport and onto our boat as David and Katherine. Everything is marked that way, and it took us a while to figure out who those people were.

Another odd thing was the seat assignments on the plane. One of us was assigned seat 9D and the other to seat 9K, but we were right next to each other. No indication of what happened to seats E,F,G,H,I, or J. Fortunately, the plane was not very full, so we had the entire row to ourselves and could spread out for the two hour flight.

Arrival at Galapagos involved extra steps, as well. When we landed on the small island of Baltra (the airstrip there was originally built as an American military base in WW II), we had to have a visa, which our tour leader had given each of us before departure.

There was also a $100 entry fee. Again, this was part of our package, so the tour director had given one group member one check to cover all of us. That meant that we had to go through immigration as a group. Even though we came from Ecuador and we are still in Ecuador, our passports were stamped — one for “Katherine” and one for “David.”

After passport control, our carry-ons were once again x-rayed for agricultural contraband, then we could collect our checked luggage which, presumably, had also been scanned.

Upon exit, we met Alejandra, or “Ally,” a certified naturalist guide in the Galapagos National Park, and our tour director for this half of the trip. She efficiently arranged for our luggage to be loaded onto a bus, and we were driven a short distance to a boat dock. Our boat remained anchored about 100 yards away, and a small “zodiac” with outboard motor ferried us from the dock, then went back to collect our luggage.

Welcoming committee as we waited to board the boat

Our boat, the Tip Top II, is twin hull (catamaran) about 100 feet long and about 40 feet wide. There is a lower deck with kitchen and mechanical areas. We main deck with dining area, eight cabins, and a forward observation room/library/meeting room. An upper deck has an outdoor lounge and bar, plus four “deluxe” cabins.

We did not pay the extra fee for one of these, but we were upgraded — most likely because we have taken more trips with OAT than anyone else in our group. Above us is a sun deck lounge area.

We got underway immediately, and even though the sea is relatively calm, boats rock. Mary is prone to motion sickness, and it struck. She was pretty queasy through lunch, the lifeboat drill, and orientation, but recovered later after taking some meds and getting used to the motion.

By 4:30 p.m. we had reached our first destination, and the orientation meeting finished just in time. The island of Mosquera is little more than a sand bar, but it is home to a large number of sea lions.

Most of us had changed into shorts, and we were ready for our first “wet landing.” The zodiac would take us to the beach, but we would have to go over the side in water about a foot deep and walk ashore.

We landed on a white sand beach near some rocks where several young sea lions were playing. Their father, the bull seal, was keeping watch nearby, while their mothers were higher up from the water, laying in the sand and sunning themselves. The sea lions seem to be as amused by humans and the humans are of them, and we could get quite close to take our photos.

On our walk here we also discovered a great many crabs, at least one iguana, five or six species of birds (including several large herons), a bunch of little lizards, and the skeleton of a whale. But the sea lions were the primary residents, dozens of them.

After about an hour and a half, we got our feet wet once again getting back onto the zodiac. Then we got our feet washed as soon as we were back on the boat. The beautiful wooden decks would not last long with people tracking sand all over them!

We had some time to change and relax prior to dinner and an overview of tomorrow’s schedule. As we slept, the boat moved on to our next destination.

Termas de Papallacta

Leaving behind another overcast day in Quito, we headed east and climbed into the Andes Mountains. The bus struggled with the steep climb. At Papallacta Pass we reached 14,000 feet of elevation and a continental divide. Rain falling to the west makes a rapid descent to the Pacific, while rain falling to the east makes its way to the Rio Napo, on to the Amazon, and eventually to the Atlantic.

Starting down the eastern slope, we dropped 3000 feet and arrived at the village of Papallacta (pronounced pah-pay-yahk-tah), home of the famous (in these parts) Papallacta hot springs, created by volcanic activity far underground.

The bus brought us to Termas de Papallacta, a rather fancy spa-restaurant-hotel setup. We registered and were issued our locker keys, towels, and snoopy hats (a cap we had to wear to help keep hair out of the pools), and stored our gear in the assigned locker.

Several in our group had made reservations (and paid extra) for massages and/or various spa treatments. Four of us, however, went with Juan, our tour leader, on a hike on trails created by the spa/hotel establishment, into the Cayambe-Coca National Park.

This was a beautiful trail through the “cloud forest,” as this high altitude ecosystem is known. There are dairy farms here (we had to pass through fence gates and navigate around cow pies in a couple places). But mostly the trail followed a rushing mountain stream through trees and shrubbery.

Unfortunately, the first half- to three-quarters of a mile felt like we were climbing straight up. At this altitude, our lungs were working hard and we took it slowly. There were no other people around, so our Covid masks came off quickly to allow for heavy breathing.

We didn’t see a lot of wildlife along the way — just a few birds and a squirrel. (Juan was rather excited to see the squirrel, as they are rare here.) But we did see some pretty flowers, and the views of the mountains and the rushing stream were pretty impressive.

The trail was a loop. We went up one side of the stream, then crossed a foot bridge to the other side, and returned. It was only a couple miles, but seemed longer due to the altitude.

Once back at the spa, we changed into our swimsuits and hit the pools — plural. These were not just “hot tubs,” but five large pools. We started with the hottest and deepest, but could only stay in those for 10-15 minutes without becoming overheated.

One pool was very shallow, but built in a circle of “beds” you could lay down in, with warm water shooting up under you, and your head held up out of the water by a remarkably comfortable stone pillow. We might have stayed there all day! 

But it wouldn’t have been healthy. (There were signs warning of risks from too much time in the pools for “niños y ancianos” — children and elderly. We figured we probably fit in one of those categories.) The last couple pools were pretty temperate, but had some nice water jets.

After enjoying the pools for about an hour, we took our time in the very nice, personal showers and dressed. In the restaurant, we were served a nice lunch with a rather interesting fruit juice mixture that was very good.

It was difficult to stay awake on the way home. Nothing like a mountain hike and hot water to wear you out and relax you. We learned that our Covid tests came back negative, so tomorrow, it’s on to the Galapagos!

[Note: We will have no internet the next seven days, so we'll do multiple posts after February 5]