Yesterday we packed up our cozy little house on the island of Santa Cruz.  The remainder of our time in the Galapagos (except for the last night, when we’ll be back on Santa Cruz for proximity to the airport) will be spent on Isabela, the largest of the islands in the Galapagos.  There are a couple of cool things I noticed about Isabela when looking at it on a map:  (1) It looks like a seahorse, and (2) the equator cuts through the northern end, right through the seahorse’s head.

We had to be at the dock by 1:30, so the first part of our day was spent packing, reading, and attempting to eat all the food we had left over.  (They are very worried about invasive pests here, and you’re not allowed to bring any kind of fresh foods into the Galapagos, or even from island to island.  Our bags were searched and tagged at the port.)

One challenge to our packing is that a substantial portion of our clothing is damp.  It’s not all that hot here — I would say most of the time the temperature is in the 70s — but it’s very humid and nothing ever dries.  The towels that we’ve been bringing on our beach and snorkeling trips have been in a perennial state of dampness ever since day 1, despite our dutifully hanging them up each day when we get home.  Bob even set up our little travel clothesline in the yard, but still no luck.  (The day before yesterday, when we went to the beach, there was a stone wall in the hot sun, and I spread out the towels as soon as we got there.  I carefully turned them around every so often, and by a couple of hours later, they were actually approaching dryness!  This gave me a great sense of accomplishment, until the children ran out of the water and grabbed them.  My first impulse was to tell them they COULD NOT use the towels, so we could keep them dry — but then I had to admit to myself that that was crazy talk.)

A good omen upon our arrival in Isabela

We were somewhat apprehensive about the boat ride.  It’s a two-hour trek through often-rough seas, and I’ve read descriptions about the discomfort and seasickness that it often entails.  We dutifully took our pills that were hopefully something like Dramamine (assuming we’d accurately communicated our need to the lady at the pharmacy, who kindly sold us as many pills as we wanted for 25 cents apiece).  The small boat was full, with an enclosed area with two benches along the side where we all sat, shoulder to shoulder and with barely space to walk between our knees.  I couldn’t help thinking about how unpleasant things would become if ANYONE on the boat felt the need to vomit.  This feeling grew as the young American woman across from us fished through her backpack, which appeared to be loaded with empty beer bottles, and she and her friends began swigging from a bottle of liquor called “100 fuegos” (“100 fires”).

Lava rock that solidified while still flowing

At least, we thought as we hopped onto the boat at 2pm sharp, we’d finally broken the curse of delays that has plagued just about every form of transport that we’ve taken in the last week.  And then we waited.  Alas, there was yet another mysterious problem with “paperwork” and it was 45 minutes of sitting in the rocking boat before we could even leave the harbor.  (Another inconvenience of Isabela is that there’s no ATM on the island, and credit cards are generally not accepted, so Bob and I were each carrying hundreds of dollars in cash to pay for all our tours, food, transport, etc. for the next six days.)

The trip went as well as could be expected, all things considered,  No one threw up, though at the end one of the other passengers commented on how green I looked.  The hopefully-Dramamine pills made us all sleepy, but it was impossible to really sleep on the constantly-bouncing boat.  I had to spend the whole trip either staring at the horizon or with my eyes closed, and was thus not able to carry on a conversation with anyone in my family.  Other passengers said they saw dolphins and a whale, but sadly I missed all of these.

Marine iguana tracks

It’s already worth it, though, because Isabela was delightful from the get-go.  Standing on the dock waiting for our luggage, we were surrounded by beautiful turquoise water lapping against white sand beaches, backed by mangroves growing out of solidified lava.  Sea lions frolicked in the shallow waters beneath us, and turtles and a ray swam by.  In the distance rose high mountains, Isabela’s still-active volcano.  The roads here are made of sand and the vibe is laid-back and beachy, reminding us instantly of Caye Caulker in Belize.  Unlike Puerto Ayora’s downtown, which is a harbor, Puerto Villamil on Isabela is lined with a miles-long white beach, punctuated with black lava rocks.

I wasn’t able to find a house for us here like I had in Puerto Ayora (possibly because this town is much smaller and sleepier, and possibly because I waited until the last minute because we weren’t sure of our plans), so we’ll be living in a single room, without a kitchen for the next six days.  On the other hand, this is our view:

Having ventured into town for dinner in one of the al fresco restaurants lining the mail square, we’re back in our room, with the roar of the surf coming in through the windows to lull us to sleep.  Tomorrow we hope to find a couple of animals we haven’t seen yet: flamingos and penguins!

We were excited to find this restaurant, where the fixed price menu of $7 included soup, choice of  entree, juice, and even a little piece of banana bread for dessert.

There are lots of different day tours one can take here, going to many different locations and run by many different tour operators.  It’s hard to figure out what to do.  We decided to start small, with a half-day tour of Tortuga Bay right here on Santa Cruz island.  The itinerary sounded almost too good to be true — first a stop at La Loberia, a small island offshore, to snorkel with sea lions.  Other snorkeling stops to see white-tipped sharks and sea turtles.  A trip to Las Grietas, a deep green pool set between two cliffs.  And there were a few other things thrown in as well.  All this for $25 per person!  (Half price for last-minute booking).

Turns out, it was maybe a little too good to be true.  Or, to be fair, we probably just had some bad luck.  First off, we met our captain and his accompanying naturalist on the pier — he pointed us to a particular dock and said he’d bring the boat around.  We sat down to wait…and wait…and wait.  When over 20 minutes had passed since our tour was due to have begun, and we began to think they were in a bar somewhere drinking away our $125, the naturalist reappeared to apologize for the delay.  Apparently there was a “little problem” with the boat.  (A short while later the captain showed up, and told us there was a “little problem” with paperwork.  He must have thought that sounded less alarming.)

Eventually we were underway, with a different boat and a different captain.  Daniel, our naturalist, tried to get us back on track but it was clear that the boat problem had created some confusion.  He’d start to tell us where we were headed, then the captain would grunt something in Spanish, then he’d go to confer with him, then come back and tell us something else.

Zoe dives to the depths in Las Grietas.

Once we finally arrived somewhere, though, it was spectacular.  We walked a short way past a salt flat with pink water (from the same kind of shrimp that flamingos eat) and eventually arrived at Las Grietas.  It was a beautiful spot, with blue-green water surrounded by 20-foot-high cliffs that the locals sometimes jump off of.  When we put on our snorkels and set off, we were all astonished at how deep it was.  Turquoise light seemed to radiate from the bottom far below.

Eventually we headed back to the boat and the confusion resumed.  We passed by a spot where a lot of people were snorkeling — and then jumped into the ocean further on along the coast, where there was initially not much to be seen.  (I should add here one surprising fact about the Galapagos.  Despite the fact that it’s on the equator, the ocean is not all that warm.  Now it’s not cold by New Hampshire standards, by any means, but it’ll definitely have you chilled fairly quickly.  The air is not all the hot at this time of the year either.)  The kids were freezing, the guide was attempting to herd us down the coast while dealing with the only other passengers — a young Ecuadorean couple who, despite having signed up for a snorkeling trip, did not seem to have much desire or aptitude for snorkeling.  In the end, though, we managed to find a couple of huge sea turtles and a couple of sea lions, so we were prepared to say it was worth it.  (See Bob’s post for photos.)

Playa de los Perros

After that, looking at our shivering forms as well as the waning afternoon sun, Daniel decided we were done snorkeling for the day.  He took us on a beautiful hike on the Playa de los Perros where we saw the Galapagos in its semi-natural state.  (The Ecuadoreans, apparently also not fans of walking, stayed on the boat.)

The trip description had said we were going to La Loberia, and by God, Daniel was apparently determined to take us there.  So we had a long, choppy boat ride out to the island.  The wind had picked up and the seas were high, slamming against the rocks.  Clearly no one was going snorkeling, even if we hadn’t all been half-frozen.  The brochure had also promised a “glass-bottom boat”, and Daniel dutifully pulled up the flooring to reveal a narrow depression with a couple of windows.  He half-heartedly started trying to talk about sea urchins, but eventually trailed off as it became increasingly clear we couldn’t see anything in the turbulent water.  The captain, who seemed to be extremely protective of the glass bottom, quickly sealed it up again (nearly capsizing the boat in the process, as he left the wheel unattended in the large waves) and we headed back.

In the end, for $25 we certainly got our money’s worth, even if this was a case of reality not quite living up to expectations.  And, in  the interests of righting the cosmic balance, we had the opposite experience yesterday.

Los Gemelos

We had decided to do a “highlands” tour, exploring three attractions on the interior of the island — El Chato tortoise reserve, the lava tubes, and Los Gemelos — two massive sinkholes that were created by the collapse of earlier lava tubes.  Rather than pay $45 per person for an official tour, we opted to pay a taxi driver $45 total to chauffeur us for three hours.  (We’re back to our old Central American habit of having Lanie ride on my lap so we can all fit in one cab.)

In the lava tube

We didn’t realize we were getting a private guide as well.  At El Chato (see Lanie’s previous post for more details and photos), our taxi driver hopped out of the car with us and led us into the reserve — then began speaking knowledgeably about the biology of the turtles, the surrounding plants, and the workings of the conservation program.  (Granted, this was all in Spanish.  Fortunately Bob has found taxi drivers to be the absolute best people to practice his Spanish on, and was able to translate for the rest of us.)  He also took several photos.  We had similar experiences when walking through the lava tubes (caves carved out by molten lava flows) and when walking along the craters of Los Gemelos.

So, you win some and you lose some.  We’ll hope that tomorrow’s full-day (and rather pricy) snorkeling trip comes down on the plus side.

Early departure from the Hotel Air Suites

We’ve finally made it, after what seemed to be endless legs of travel. It was another early morning for us, with an 8am flight. After spending several hours attempting, with mixed success, to get some sleep at our hotel in Guayaquil, we were up again at six.

It wasn’t the easiest day on the pocketbook, either. When we arrived at the airport, we were directed into a long line to purchase (for $20 each) some kind of “tourist card” needed to enter the Galapagos. Upon arriving in the Galapagos (after a pleasant and uneventful flight that left and arrived on time), we had to pay $100 each for a national park entry fee. Then it was $10 per person for bus tickets and $1 per person for a ferry ride, and of course the fee for the taxi that brought us across the island to Puerto Ayora, the main town here. (The airport here is in the middle of nowhere, on an island that doesn’t seem to contain anything else. The bus is necessary to drive you across the island, and the ferry to get to the larger island of Santa Cruz. Then you’re still in the middle of nowhere until you drive the 40km or so to the other side of Isla Santa Cruz.)

Yesterday was a pretty low-key day. We got settled in the apartment we’ve rented for the next six nights, and strolled into town to look around. There’s plenty to look at, including a beautiful and incredibly detailed mosaic garden, gorgeous blue-green seas, and — of course — exotic animals everywhere.

Our favorite viewing spot was the open fish market, located directly on the docks where the boats come in. People stand there all day cleaning and selling fish, and this has not escaped the notice of the local wildlife. Sea lions lounge around, resting on the pavement or begging for scraps. Pelicans and frigate birds dart in and out, attempting to snatch a choice morsel from under the watchful eye of the fish cleaner. Colorful sally lightfoot crabs scuttle underfoot, while iguanas rest in the sunshine.

A wall full of sally lightfoot crabs

Walking around, ice cream, grocery shopping, dinner, and very early to bed — that was about enough for today. Oh, and the nearby playground which features a pretty impressive zip line. The older girls roll their eyes when Lanie wants to stop there, but none of them ever wants to leave.