Dolphins join us on our passage to Isabela Island, and the local Pelicans hang out for scraps as the fishing boats unload
We did a better job of making our first day ashore an easier one then we had on Floreana. I think this was helped by Puerto Villamil being a bigger town. We were able to break up our day with occasional restaurant visits to refuel and refresh along the way. This discontinuous nature made our day seem much less trudge-y.
Apart from the rest stops, our main two activities were to see the flamingoes and the tortoises.
Scenes ashore at Isabela
The flamingoes like to hang out at a pond that is conveniently located near the town center. Again, we had spent all this time traipsing all over the place in the hopes of seeing one, and here they were so close we had to zoom out to get them into our photos.
The tortoise breeding center was a little bit farther away, on a combined path and boardwalk from the town along the cactus-riddled lava beds. Galapagos Tortoises are amazing creatures, but they are not exactly gazelles. Visiting them is like visiting a furniture showroom that only sells one style of ottoman, in a variety of sizes. Yes, they are all very nice, but my, look at the time!
The next day, we had booked a boat tour. Our agent, Alejandro, told us there was no need to come into town. He would come out in a water taxi and take us directly to the boat from there. That's easy!
It seemed to be Big Tour Boat Day in Isabela and all the intervening space between cruising boats was occupied by them as their crews prepared for guests. As we were waiting for Alejandro and our water taxi, Petrel, a big, modern live-aboard dive boat that was nearest to us, looked like it was dragging. Worse than that, it was dragging right towards us. We had just been watching their crew polishing the back of the boat and tying up their big tenders, but now there was no one to be seen aboard that we could hail.
Maryanne tried to get them on the radio several times, with no response. We tried yelling, blowing our horn and siren and still nothing. Maryanne stayed at the radio, trying again, when she suggested I get a boat hook and go forward to fend.
By then, one of their big inflatable tenders was hitting our bows and getting caught in our anchor bridle. Their swim platform was almost close enough for me to jump to if I made a mad run at it. When they get a meter closer, I can do it, no problem. Then my plan was to run up to the bridge and see if there is anybody there.
Just as it occurred to me that I could jump down into their tender and get to their boat from there, the captain came out of the bridge and saw us behind, with one of their tenders acting as a fender between the two boats. He then returned to the bridge, only picking up his pace slightly, started the engines, and left for a deeper part of the harbor, without so much as a word or a nod to us.
"And... stay out!" I yelled to no one but a cloud of engine exhaust.
Anyway, our boat tour to Los Tuneles was very nice. The area is accessed via a pretty scary-looking pass, but once we were in, we were treated to a maze of lava tubes that were in various states of collapse, all right at sea level. This made for lots of arches, sea caves, and narrow walkways. There were plenty of fishes, sea lions and birds enjoying the complex topography.
Boat trip to Los Tunnels - great scenery, and a lucky sighting of a flightless cormorant (and other local birds)
Most exciting to the experts, including Maryanne, was that someone had spotted a flightless cormorant nearby. From a distance, it looks like just another big, brown bird, but this endemic species is only supposed to exist on the northern side of Isabela, over a hundred miles away. Unlike regular cormorants, this one could only get here by either swimming or walking, so it was quite a find, indeed.
Almost as impressive was that our guide, who was given directions to the distant bird from another who just happened to spot it, managed to find it at all. The exchange was in Spanish, but the directions clearly did not contain any numbers, as in latitude or longitude. Instead, they sounded like, "Go to the rock, then the other rock, take a left, go to the next rock, don't go to any rocks for a while, then go to the rock before the rock. Six more rocks to the right of there, plus two more rocks forward and you should be able to see the bird in the distance." Sure enough, it was right there.
Then we had short walk through the area, followed by a brief snorkel on the return trip to Puerto Villamil. Again, the recent blow had churned up the water, so there was not a lot to see, but getting into the water that time of day is always welcome.
It was supposed to rain hard the next afternoon, so we made a point of being off the boat early for the walk to the Wall of Tears, an enormous pile of rocks that existed solely for the purpose of making prisoner's lives in the unbearable heat even more wretched, as they were forced to carry the heavy stones in from miles away for its construction.
Once we were in town. Maryanne suggested we would have an even better chance of beating the rain if we rented bikes for the day.
We rented bikes and set off to explore the trail to the Wall of Tears, and returned to town for a local beer
It turned out to be a great idea. After getting to the wall and making all the requisite stops at the various viewpoints along the way, we subsequently realized we would never have made it without the wheels. We even had time for a quick bite out before returning to Begonia. We got home just as it really started to come down.
The weather got worse over the afternoon and the wind started blowing hard. Begonia skittered to the end of her anchor rode and then came to a stop with a pronounced lurch. After a short while, we started smelling smoke. Okay, Don't panic. Follow the procedure.
The first step of our smoke procedure is to go outside and see if we can smell it there. If yes, then we're unlikely to be the source. Most of the time, it ends up being somebody burning trash ashore or the generator exhaust from an upwind boat. Today, the smell was definitely worse outside. The cargo ship, also named Isabella, but with the extra ‘L', seemed to have dragged anchor and was belching big plumes of unhealthy-looking black smoke from her exhaust stacks. Her big, flat sides were now beam to the strong wind and the she seemed to be struggling to regain control and bring the bow back into the wind so they could take the strain off their chain and weigh anchor. The boat directly to leeward of them managed to get their anchor up and out of there before the ship overran their anchor, but not before they were covered with soot from the exhaust plume.
Next closest was One Piece. With judicious power and the help of launches trying to act in vain as tugs with their small engines, Isabella managed to drag just to the side of them. From where the ship was, had she broken free, she wouldn't have been able to gain enough speed to make the upwind turn without plowing into One Piece along the way. Isabella's engines were screaming and we cringed as we thought about what would happen if she suddenly started moving forward, instead of sideways.
After a while, from looking at Isabella's waterline, it was clear that their dragging had turned into a grounding. They made several calls on the radio calling for more launches to act as tugs. More arrived, but seemed unable to counter the ship's considerable windage. After an hour of loud, growling engine noise, all they seemed to have to show for their efforts was a lot of churned-up sand and a layer of black smog hanging over the harbor. At some point, someone on the ship realized none of this was working. The engines were shut down, the smoke cleared and the noise of the harbor went back to being just the wind.
At 2am, the sound of big propellers churning the water nearby could be heard coming through the hulls. It was high tide now. I went out into the cockpit and saw Isabella barreling towards us, presumably needing the speed to maintain steerageway. They passed five boat lengths to both One Piece's and our port sides, and then headed for the harbor exit. It was a relief to have them some distance away.
It didn't last. They weren't finished unloading, so they were back at daybreak. They needed to be as close in as possible to the pier, because the launches that ferry barges between Isabella and the pier are underpowered and struggle to go more than one knot when pushing a load. Being another mile and a half out would mean a trip to shore for them would take hours, not minutes.
At least this time, they were no longer in line with us and the wind. If they dragged again, it should be alongside us, not into us or anyone else.
As Isabella's barges started filling with their first load of the day, we went ashore to Isabela for a sulfur mine tour. Since we had done the rim hike on our first visit to Isabela in 2014, we were eager this time to go into the volcano's crater.
The name of the tour was a bit misleading, because there was no mine to see, per se. Instead, the tour took us into the crater of the enormous (third largest in the world) Sierra Negra volcano, to an area where sulfur was collected in days gone by. Most of the crater floor is the color of fresh asphalt, but the area around the fumaroles at the sulfur mines has a nice splash of whites, pinks and of course, yellows.
It was a beautiful, clear, sunny day, which was not yet too hot. The vistas off both sides of the crater rim were incredible and kept surprising us anew as we descended the fern-covered wall to the arid floor. This was an upside-down hike, where the downhill stroll to the fumaroles was the easy part. The steep climb back up to the pickup was where we got to break a sweat and feel our leg muscles burning. Our guide, even though he does this hike about twice a week, was good enough to hang way back for the uphill portion, so we didn't feel an urge to beat ourselves into the ground trying to keep up. In fact, when we finally reached the top, I remember being surprised that the descent had seemed longer. {Historically sulphur deposits were indeed mined from here, but it is all surface collection as far as we could tell, either way the treck to work and back itself would have been tiresome, spending the heat of the day digging out sulphur would have been exhausting}.
Visiting the crater of Sierra Negra to see the sulphur deposits (still forming). Maryanne was almost as excited to see the Vermilion flycatcher (red bird).
We finished just after lunchtime, just as the day was really starting to warm up. We coped by finding a waterfront hotel with a shaded outdoor bar, where we nursed beers in frosted glasses while all of our devices sucked down their wifi. As we gazed out at the harbor, I made one of my regular observations, "Hey, Maryanne... it's a weekday!"
We had a day off before our next guided tour, so the only thing on Maryanne's list for the day was a snorkel at Concha de Perla (Pearl Shell). This is the only place you are allowed to snorkel in Puerto Villamil Harbor without a guide.
The cordoned-off mini-lagoon had some interesting geology, mostly channels from collapsed lava tubes, but the brackish water was pretty churned up and thin on fauna. It was also shockingly cold, being fed from rivers that originate high in the mountains. The water Begonia was floating in half a mile away was just barely refreshing. After swimming at Concha de Perla for an hour, we had to get out to warm back up. One of the most entertaining things about the site is the long walkway leading to it from the main ferry landing. It is covered with sea lions and marine iguanas that seem completely unperturbed by the parade of people gingerly tiptoeing over them to get by.
For our tour the next day, we boarded a boat for a five-minute ride to a part of Puerto Villamil Harbor halfway between Concha de Perla and Begonia, called Tintoreas, a name for one of the local sharks. On the ride, we were able to get a good, close look at a few of the world's only equatorial penguins. Our guide, Sandra, then took us on a short, informative walk through the lava fields of one of the harbor's islands. Then it was time for what we were all looking forward to after the baking walk, a forty-minute snorkel tour.
This is where Sandra drove me and Maryanne nuts. She would tear off in one direction, apparently heading for something interesting. We would note her direction and swim like hell to keep up. After losing her a few seconds later, we would surface to find that she had made a ninety-degree turn at some point and was in a completely unexpected direction. Then we would race to that spot only to find that she had gone somewhere else. At some point, I decided to be her shadow, which didn't work either, because just as I would get up to speed, she would turn in my direction and plow right into me. I would turn, making apologetic gestures with my hands, and five seconds later, she would plow into me again.
Perhaps I should try bringing up the rear instead. Maryanne's and my frequent refrain upon meeting each other was, "Where the hell is she going?" It seemed as if she was trying to use a mile and a half of swimming to trace the word ‘Tintoreas' in the hundred-meter-wide lagoon. One exciting thing that we did manage to see was a small group of the local seahorses.
Visiting Tintoreas, the small islands in the anchorage:Penguins, Rays, Iguanas, and more... And on the nearby snorkel we were guided to another sea horse (always a treat)
Back at the main pier, we also got to see a large contingent of soldiers and park rangers carrying box after box of tortoises to be loaded onto a boat. It was a sort of Graduation Day for them. They were now big enough to be reintroduced to the wild in distant, uninhabited parts of the island. We were told at the breeding center that some of the more remote release spots would require a three-hour boat ride, followed by three days of being carried into the bush on a ranger's back. It was touching to see so many people going to so much trouble to help them.
After the morning's mad swim, I was ready to go right home. Maryanne, eager to regain some sense of autonomy, argued that, since we already had our snorkel gear and since it was only a few steps away, perhaps we could enjoy another snorkel at Concha de Perlas, where we could go at our own pace while seeing what we want.
It turned out to be about as interesting as the last time. As it was later in the day, the crowd of swimmers was bigger, giving the place more the feel of an overcrowded beach. We did get to spend several minutes swimming with a marine iguana who was apparently of the mind that the best place to haul out and bask in the sun was on a beach towel on the platform where all the humans enter and exit the water.
Tortoises graduating from care and being packed off to a new home territory, snorkelling, and realizing that the sea lions get first dibs on all benches
Afterwards, since it was our last day on Isabela, we decided to air dry while walking into town for one last meal ashore. We found a place on the beach that was very nice, where there was clearly a markup for the view. The dishes were tasty, but also tiny. Afterwards, while walking through town on the way to the water taxi, we decided to try again and have a whole second dinner somewhere else, even though we were both still cringing from the bill at the last place.
This time, it took. We got twice as much food for half the price and both left agreeing that there would be no need to have anything else later at home. Also, on the table was a very nice local hot sauce, which we were able to pop into the grocery store and stock up on. That'll help the memories last for a little while longer.
Our last day at Isabela
The next morning, we were up early for our next leg back to Santa Cruz. The wind was back to its normal state of being completely inadequate for propulsion, so we motored with one engine over a softly heaving blue sea. After ten hours or so, we were back in the crowded harbor at Puerto Ayora.
A calm motor back to Santa Cruz Island
The current rule for cruising boats of normal means in the Galápagos is that vessels are allowed to visit the only a single harbor on each of the same four islands that we visited. Clearance in and out of the group must be done at Santa Cruz, although they have been known to make exceptions for large rallies or races, which split the extra fees to fly the many officials in by helicopter amongst all the participants. For us, it seemed like a way better deal to spend a day and twelve dollars of diesel going back to Santa Cruz ourselves, even though it will add more miles to our next leg.
That worked for us because we still had a couple things remaining on our wish list of things to do on Santa Cruz. Also, they have a laundry service, the best selection of markets for provisioning, and we could get purified water delivered right to the boat to top up our tanks.
The first thing on our list was a visit to Las Grietas (The Cracks). Although it is inside the National Park and thus a visit requires a guide, it is within easy walking distance of the water taxi drop off. The place looks amazing in all the posters in the tour operator's offices, which show people swimming in azure water in a steep canyon.
The reality was a bit different. Because we needed a guide, when we arrived, we had to wait so that we could be herded in with the rest of a large group. When we got to the swimming spot, our guide told us we had forty-five minutes to swim and not one minute more.
We were told before that it was best to come first thing in the morning on a weekday. Now we knew why, as it was neither. The place was packed, including a group of college-age bros who were especially loud and self-absorbed, acting like it was Spring Break and they had hired out the whole place for a private kegger. They sneered at everyone, including little children wearing water wings, who got in the way of showing off for one of their phones. Maryanne and I did an obligatory lap in the churned-up water. It cooled us off, but I think we were both relieved to see almost all our forty-five-minute allotment used up. Time to head back into town for one of those nice restaurants.
Visiting Las Grietas area
Our next day was mostly a chore day. Galápagos' clean harbors had left us with a healthy coating of slime on the bottom paint. Fortunately, that was all and it wiped right off, but if you don't wipe it off, stuff will start growing on the slime, and then stuff will start growing on that, so we have to stay on it. Our plan was to divide the work. As I was finishing up my half (the port hull), Maryanne swam up and told me she thought I had agreed to do the bottom half of both hulls, she was going to do the top half. Well, at least the bottom half of the second hull was easier than doing the whole thing.
After our water delivery and a thorough clean and tidy of Begonia's interior as well, we were suitably weary enough to call it a day, at least as far as "work" was concerned. We then spiffed ourselves up for a fancy dinner out, the last thing on our Santa Cruz wish list.
Several times, mostly while returning to Begonia after a long tour day and with bellies full of food from one or the other of Puerto Ayora's excellent eating establishments, our water taxi would make an interim stop to pick up or drop off passengers from El Pointe Restaurant. The place is beautiful, lit with strings of lights and set out over the water on a large balcony. Everyone leaving the restaurant reported that it was fantastic. Maryanne and I resolved to make a point of visiting before we sailed off. Finally, on our last night in the Galápagos, we were here.
It really WAS fantastic! The temperature was ideal for al fresco dining, the views of the harbor were amazing, the atmosphere was just perfect, with light music and the low, happy murmur of so many others having a special evening. The food was also incredible, with each course being its own little masterpiece. We even had a little school of Golden Rays circling in the water beneath our table. Plus, I had Maryanne for company! I dare say this is what I was really shooting for on our soggy Pi Day dinner back on San Christobal.
Our last days in the Galapagos, aside from the necessary chores, we planned a nice waterfront meal out
On the day we left the Galápagos for the Marquesas, a whole parade of officials came out to Begonia to complete the formalities. We were surprised that the inspections were just as thorough as they had been when we arrived the month before, since after leaving, we could no longer be in danger of introducing any unwanted organisms. Our agent explained that they have lots forms with boxes that need to be ticked, so that's just the way it is. He also intimated that they might also be checking that we don't have any compartments stuffed with endangered species. Fair enough, I guess.
As a bonus, one of the more officious-looking soldiers had brought his little daughter out with him on Take Your Daughter to Work Day. It was hard for Dad to look intimidating and scary when he was doting on his favorite daughter. The girl really took to Maryanne, who showed her around and answered her questions between those of the officials.
As it just so happened, we had recently been scammed on the internet. We bought a pair of "medium" replacement swim fins and hadn't noticed the one-pixel-high notice saying "Actual Size" in the corner of the phone. When we got them and opened the enormous, nearly empty box, we thought, "When else are we going to be hosting a six-year-old girl?" When Maryanne offered them to the girl as a parting gift, you would have thought she had been given tickets to ride a unicorn over a rainbow.
So Farewell to the Galápagos. We had a much better time than the first visit.
Isabela Anchorage location >> On google maps
Santa Cruz Anchorage location >> On google maps
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So sorry we've just added the step to moderate comments - because some idiots keep adding special offers on our blog and Kyle doesn't like it... please don't let this stop you real people from posting but you will not see your comment until it has been approved by Maryanne :-(