I have been safely marooned in the Galapagos Islands the past week and a half - far away from Ecuador's recent political turmoil which has taken place on the mainland. Things sound like they are settling down now that a new president is in place so tomorrow I plan on flying to the port city of Guyaquil and then on to Peru by bus.
The Galapagos Archipelago which was "born of fire" is a land of haunting beauty where warm and cold sea currents and the equatorial climate work harmoniously together to create a dynamic habitat for unique wildlife of the land and sea. It is a place where Darwin's light-footed finch joins you for breakfast while competing Latin rhythms pound, where swimmers snorkel with sea lions and divers swim with sharks. It is a place of "No Fear" for either animals or humans - for animals because they have survived centuries without predators and for humans because the isolation has succeeded at keeping the thieves and robbers of the mainland away. Galapagos is a place where sea lions, iguanas, and crabs laze among black lava rocks and giant tortoises make their home on the arid land; a place where tide pools ripple from the snake-like movement of submerged iguanas. It is a place where only tourists and tour guides go out in the midday sun and where politics almost gets forgotten in the face of the almighty tourist dollar.
Life on the Islas de los Galapagos (Islands of the Giant Tortoises) runs at a different pace than most of the rest of the country despite the fact it is only 1000 kilometres off the coast. On the central island of Santa Cruz in the town of Puerto Ayora where I have made my home base these past few days, siesta time rules over almost everything. This is understandable considering the relentless, hot, humid air - a sharp contrast to Quito's cool mountain air which I have left behind.
I arrived in the nearly deserted town of Puerto Ayora on a Sunday afternoon along with a couple of other independent travellers from the United States whom I had met on the plane from Quito, Greg and Eric. Fortunately for us (and for the tour operator who made a lot of money off us), a couple of tour operators were open and had boats that were departing on a three-day island tour that afternoon.
My Peace Corps connection that started in Quito served me well in the Galapagos in the form of Jack Nelson, a good friend of a Peace Corps worker whom I had met in Quito. On the afternoon of my arrival Greg, Eric and I tracked him down at the Hotel Galapagos which he and his wife own along with an adjoining dive shop.
The hotel, one of the island's best, is located on the edge of town just outside the famed Charles Darwin Research Station. Jack left the USA in the 60's and joined his father in the Galapagos, taking over his father's hotel after his passing. Jack, master diver and entrepreneur par excellent, has been my guiding light during my stay here by giving me advise on local boat tour companies for my use now and for future tours that I may bring here, among other things. His thoughtful insight on the volatile political situation of Ecuador has also been valuable.
As a result of our conversation with him that afternoon, the three of us chose a three-day tour of the southern islands which began that day on the Darwin Explorer, a 40-year-old 50-foot cruiser with 14 passengers and 8 crew members. After some tough negotiations, the all-inclusive price was agreed upon at US$180 (pre-booked prices can be two or three times those of last minute on-site prices so I felt I got a good deal). After a 45-minute truck ride through the arid, volcanic highlands of the second largest island of the archipelago, we set eyes on our temporary floating home which was sitting off-shore in turquoise waters. As a 'panga' (dingy) transported us to her, a giant turtle surfaced momentarily as if to welcome us. And my adventure began.
The air in my private room in the lower deck was a bit stifling so I spent many evening hours sitting on the top deck enjoying the warm sea breezes. Meals on board were always enjoyable as the food was superb (occasionally we enjoyed the catch from the fishing line that always protruded from the rear of our boat) and lively discussions often ensued among the international travellers about the day's activities.
Our guide William who is native to the islands impressed us with his self-taught command of the English language and extensive knowledge of the local wildlife. He lives with his wife and two children in Puerto Ayora in the house that he has been building for over eight years, a practice common among the locals.
Our boat usually cruised at night so as to not waste precious daytime travelling between islands. Each day I awoke to new sounds and vistas. During our days at sea we did wet landings (passengers step into knee-deep water and wade ashore) and dry landings on the islands of South Plaza, Santa Fe, Espanola, and Floriana.
The sheer cliffs of North Plaza Island greeted me the first morning through the rain. Dark rocks rose to a semi-arid desert of cactus and low shrubs. Seabirds soared overhead and sea lions perched on rocks belched as they arched their supple backs. We anchored at varying degrees of separation amongst other cruise ships and sailboats.
The second morning I woke up to the sounds of the ghost of Charles Dickens revisited as our anchor was lowered into the waters of the low, barren island of Espanola. The clouds were high, the breeze refreshing and balmy. Black frigate birds soared above and pelicans cavorted on the front deck of our ship. We were engulfed in the same ships we had left in the harbour of South Plaza Island the night before. The sounds of seagoing bells resonated throughout the harbour as each ship called their own to breakfast.
The third morning the sun bathed the island of Floriana with its long-extinct volcanoes and leafless vegetation in long deep shadows. In our panga we cruised along the edge of a small idyllic island topped with dramatic 20-foot high cactus while a colony of sea lions frolicked in a tide pool under mangrove trees.
Other highlights of the tour included watching two waved albatrosses, one of the Galapagos' most spectacular seabirds, wage a challenging game with each other reminiscent of a sword fight, observing the unique courtship display of the frigate bird with the male revealing his bright red inflated skin hanging under his neck, seeing a blue-footed boobie nesting at my feet, her egg protruding and exploring a deep lava cave with its ice cold seeping sea water. When snorkelling I swam with sea lions and stingrays, found sleeping sharks under rock overhangs, and befriended a penguin.
A day in the life in Puerto Aroya.
Back in Puerto Aroya where I have lived the past few days I was quickly able to return to my daily budget of US$10. My hotel named Lobo de Sol (Sea Lion) at US$3.40 per night has a room with a view that adds credence to the phrase "parting is such sweet sorrow."
My typical day starts at 6 o'clock as the morning sun floods my room. I awake to the gentle sound of the waves lapping upon the black volcanic rocks near my window. I throw open my door to check Acadamy Bay for any new boat arrivals since the night descended (the appearance of four 50ft sleek sailing vessels one morning with the words clearly written on the sides "Millennium Round the World Race" caused me to search out some of the crew on land - new friendships ensued). I make my way to my favourite seaside restaurant in search of a hearty breakfast with the locals for US$1. Finches flutter and chirp around me expectantly when my food arrives, having no reservations about helping themselves to morsels of my bread should I get distracted.
As the sun rises over the glistening bay, activity bustles among the graceful tropical trees. Their fern-like leaves and orange blossoms frame an oversized sculpture of a mustard-yellow iguana and a seabird in flight. Shipboard meal bells resonate; water taxis hum; camera-toting tourists flock; buses, jeeps, minivans, pick-up trucks and motor scooters come and go; "important" people in white t-shirts, Bermuda shorts, and marine radio walkie-talkies pace the streets as they keep on top of the activities of their cruise ships and cargo.
Throughout the mornings and evenings the waterfront road draws rich tourists into its tourist shops, many of which are hosted by charming Otovaloan women in traditional dress, and its outdoor cafes, colourful bars and restaurants. Fishermen laze in their hammocks among pelicans and other seabirds that flock around them.
Siesta comes and goes followed by a competitive volleyball match at 4pm in centre court in the main waterfront square which I try not to miss. Judging from the seriousness of this match, one would think pots of gold were won and lost - instead the pot is a few thousand almost worthless sucres. Occasionally the volleyball flies into the sea and after much commotion someone dives in after it. Sea lions play in the harbour waters at high tide along with the children, much to their delight. Cruise ships and sailing vessels light up at dusk against the sunset.
My encounter with the Galapagos Penguin
Scuba diving contributes a considerable amount of tourist dollars to the local economy as many dive boats ply the Galapagos waters daily. My desire to get an 'up close and personal' experience with the diminutive Galapagos Penguin (about 30" high) by snorkelling in the waters where they live, inspired me to join a dive boat that was visiting the island of Bartolome. This proved to be a more economical way of visiting the penguins (US$35) than the more conventional day trip (US$75) for non-divers which includes a wet landing which was not of particular interest to me. I was rewarded well.
During lunchtime I went snorkelling in a secluded cove close to where our boat was moored and came face to face with the little critter I so wanted to meet. He was perched complacently on a jagged rock inches away from me enjoying the not-so-sunny day, his white belly facing a pock-marked cliff. We contemplated each other for what seemed like a quarter of an hour; I stood motionless up to my shoulders in the water with my snorkel and mask affixed to my face. I said in silent communication to him, "Hello, my little friend, it's just you and me here. Kind of cozy, isn't it?" He fluttered his flippers as if in response. I finally, reluctantly, swam back to the boat. When I told my fellow divers of my encounter several immediately dove into the water to find him, only to catch a glimpse of him before he plunged into the sea and disappeared. The image of my little friend perched on the volcanic rocks is lodged in my mind forever.
An introspective thought...
As you know from my previous travelogue notes my friend Martha and I travelled together in Ecuador over the recent holidays. She had never travelled independently in a Third World country before. In an e-mail I recently received from her she made the following comments about this experience: "I realized when I got home the dimension of thought that was involved (in our Third
World adventure); I will never be the same." I, too, will never be the same after this South American trip. Thank you, Martha, for expressing this so well.
Now it's back to adventures in the real world of mainland South America where I will need to be on guard once again for robbers and thieves. Parting from the enigmatic Galapagos is such sweet sorrow.
Reprinted from Merrilee's South American Travel Odyssey available at http://www.iatravel.com/tipssamerica.htm
|
Facebook
Digg
Twitter
Blip FM