Tuesday: Isabela & Fernandina

Sunrise: 5:53 a.m.   Sunset: 6:57 pm

Today we crossed the Equator as we sailed north and west during the night.  At daybreak, we entered the westernmost realm of the Galápagos.  No rushing this morning.  Early morning snacks and coffee were available, as usual, at 6 am in the lounge.  Meanwhile, guests could join the naturalists on the sky deck or bow to enjoy the scenery and search for marine species.

Charles could not sleep so he went to the lounge for a continental breakfast of fruit, nut bread, and coffee while catching up on emails and surfing the Internet.  He had purchased two hours of time for $50 as wireless access is not free.  No joke!  I showed up soon thereafter and met Frank and Evelyn Kuserk of Bethlehem, PA. Frank teaches evolutionary biology at the University of Moravia and she is a medical research librarian.  If someone is writing a science article, they go to her for supporting documents or the latest research studies.  I think I would like her job.  She was super nice but he had an arrogance about him that I found off-putting. 

While we were chatting, there was an announcement that dolphins were spotted.  This is sad to admit but I didn’t move from my chair.  I had seen dolphins before and Frank and Evelyn seemed disinterested as well as they made no move.   We continued the conversation.  It wasn’t long before I learned that there were hundreds of them leaping and cavorting across the bow.  I was so sorry to have missed it.

I decided to walk up the one flight of stairs to the sky deck.  Jill was already there, having just watched the pod.  Lauren remained sleeping in their cabin.  About ten minutes later, the “dolphin gods” smiled about me as another pod of dolphins appeared in the distance. Captain Patricio steered the ship towards them.  To my utter delight, scads of endangered spinner dolphins were before our bow.  The spinner dolphin is a slender creature with a long, thin beak to which the distinct forehead slopes gently. Their flippers are long and pointed and they have a dark grey or black dorsal capes, paler flanks and sides, and creamy-white bellies.  They are famous for their acrobatic displays in which they will spin longitudinally along their axis as they leap through the air.  They did not disappoint today.

I did not want Lauren to miss this stupendous sight so I flew down to her room to awaken her.  She stumbled out of her darkened “cave” and into the light.  She could not open her eyes for the glare but her eyes soon adjusted, as we stood by the second floor railing, even closer to the action, and marveled.    Charles had gone to the cabin and almost missed it but came up in time.  He actually could have looked out our stateroom window to catch the action. 

They were not the only wildlife marine species on display.  Perhaps not wanting to be left out of the show, several mobula rays breached.  They are also known as “flying mobulas” because of this propensity.

I was fascinated with the small flock of storm petrels feeding close to our ship.  They seemed to walk on water.   These smallest of seabirds feed on planktonic crustaceans and small fish picked from the surface, typically while hovering. Their flight is fluttering and sometimes bat-like.   Astonishingly, they only come to land when nesting. 

All this was happening in the vicinity of Wolf Volcano, on Isabela Island, the largest island in the Galapagos.  The island looks like a seahorse on a map. It was named after Queen Isabella of Spain. The island was originally named Albemarle after the Duke of Albemarle. Most of the volcano, which is bisected by the Equator, has collapsed into the ocean leaving fascinating views of the inner caldera wall and the caldera floor.

Before crossing north over the Equator, we motored by three volcanoes: Alcedo, Darwin, and Wolf Volcano, which is located at the “head of the seahorse.” We learned Wolf erupted May of last year and you could easily see the black lava flows.  The pyroclastic blast and lava flows threatened the endangered pink iguanas but follow-up research showed that the population remained stable. Whew!  We were to learn, at the next day’s “lounge talk,” that Lynn spent a year and a half on Volcan Alcedo doing her PhD research on the giant tortoises.

As we neared the Equator, Capt. Patricio invited the guests to join him on the bridge to watch the radar, which indicated the ship’s position in relation to the Equator at zero degrees latitude.  Those of us on the bridge watched the blip on the screen and began the countdown to zero as we crossed it.

With great ceremony, two members of the crew held ends of a wide strip of nylon fabric with three bands of color, reflecting the colors of the Ecuadorean flag.  Evoking the crossing of the Equator, guests did the limbo under the banner and all received pale blue and yellow buttons proclaiming, “I crossed the Equator.”

I can’t recall if all this happened before or after breakfast but breakfast was served from 7:30-8:30 a.m.  Erwin was ready with my bottle of Tabasco, which I love on my scrambled eggs.  Over breakfast, Charles and I had a chance to meet Cassie and Gary Conner, grape growers from Grants Pass, Oregon.  We learned that had explored the Dalmatian Coast and said we had planned to visit the area next fall.  We agreed to set a lunch date to learn about their self-planned itinerary.

We dropped anchor at the southern end of the Ecuador Volcano, an area called Punta Vicente Roca.   All were invited to hop in one of the four pangas for a narrated ride along the imposing cliffs.  Charles and I were in a different panga from Lauren and Jill.  This is where saw our first fur sea lions and brown noddy terns.    Apparently, these seabirds have the comedic trait of sitting on the heads of pelicans while they fish, hoping to snag some leftovers.  Wish I had seen THAT!

We also saw penguins, boobies, and frigate birds.  During the ride, we saw, once again, Wolf Volcano, the highest point in the archipelago.  Isla Isabela has had many problems with introduced organisms over the span of time since the arrival of humans into the region; however Wolf Volcano on northern Isabel is also the site of a relatively recent discovery (1986) of a new species of pink land iguana, an iguana Darwin never saw.

We were back to the boat at 11:00 am, which only left us ten minutes to get into our dive gear if we wanted to do a deep-water dive off the base of the 800-foot-high Volcan Ecuador at Tagus Cove.  Due to restrictions placed upon tour operators in the park, we had to be out of the waters by noon. 

Because I am prone to skin cancers, I was diligent about keeping my skin protected from sun.  I had slathered my face white with sunscreen.  The guide saw this and made an example out of me.  He admonished me for putting sunscreen in the area to be covered by the snorkel mask, as it would break the watertight seal.  He said I would not be allowed lunch and must be punished.  He toweled off the mask for me.  Lesson learned.

Meanwhile, Amy (the vet) had already gotten in the water and proclaimed it very cold.  She was visibly uncomfortable.  It WAS colder than our previous dive  -- 70 degrees -- but I had worn my rasher with a ¾ length latex swimsuit underneath my neoprene dive gear.  This extra layer made it bearable.

At first, Charles and I could not see anything in the water around the cave site we were exploring.  We knew we had to swim close to the rocks but the agitation of the waves created thousands of tiny air bubbles, obscuring our view.  We could faintly make out the outlines of fish.  The water was deeper than Monday’s dive.  We swam on and, when we rounded a bend and into a cove, it was teeming with fish.  In no time, we were gliding past a Pacific Green Sea Turtle.  There were schools of fish being carried, en masse, back and forth in the currents.  The current was strong and we had to really kick to move against it.

We really delighted in what we saw but, again, the waters were deep.  We had good visibility however.  When I popped my head out of the water to clear my snorkel tube, I saw a flightless cormorant on the rocky volcanic shore.  This is the only species of cormorant that cannot fly but, nonetheless, it still has vestiges of wings. 

I kept bumping into fellow snorkelers, so it was a complete surprise to me to discover the “snorkeler” I was swimming with was a fur seal. 

The cold was getting to me.  Charles and I decided to return to the boat, as we were not discovering anything new.  How is that a parade of sea turtles could get boring?  We were just about to swim back when Jill alerted us of the two playful sea lions nearby.  The following moment was a highlight of my life, so much so that I teared up relaying the experience to those in my panga later.

The sea lions clearly wanted to play!   I swam after them, twirled to see if they would mimic me, and one even played chicken with me, swimming like a bullet straight towards me, as if to crash right into my face.  At the last millisecond, it opened its mouth and veered, grazing its whiskers across my face.  That opened mouth bit didn’t thrill me but there was no time to react.  It was so fast.  The sea lions did the same thing to Jill, Lauren, and Charles. 

Lauren was aggressively playing with them and one became her buddy.  I watched them as they played, between my own bouts of play.  The experience of watching my children interact with this mischievous pair was breath taking.  Just feet from me, I witnessed a sea lion came up to Lauren’s mask and give her what looked like to be kisses.  The sea lion lingered there and together they broke to the surface, staring at one another face to face.  I could not get over the perceived bond I saw between them.  I was not able to witness going on with Jill during those moments but I am sure she was having an equally magical encounter.    The sea lions were moving so fast that it was often hard to turn around to follow them, even with your eyes.   We very reluctantly left them as the boat was running late in returning us to The Islander. 

Once again, I shivered on the ride back to the boat but not as mightily or as long as on Monday.  Lynn would usually be standing at the top of the “gang plank stairs” to see if everyone enjoyed themselves.  Those in even-numbered cabins needed to use the port side of the boat to shower off and stow dive gear while the odd-numbered cabins made use of the starboard hoses.  There were wooden hangers to hang  wet suits.  Very orderly.

I attended to this as hastily as I could, as I wanted to get into our hot shower.  I hurried up to deck four, threw my mesh bag of snorkel equipment on our small glassed-in balcony, and was defrosting in hot water in short order.  I was still cold so I got under the covers.  That wasn’t working so Charles brought me my fleece.  Bundled up in this way made me drowsy.  I decided to forgo lunch and nap.  Charles went to lunch but joined me in my siesta afterwards.

When I arose, I staved off the slight hunger with some Paul Newman’s Own organic pretzels dipped in almond butter.  This nutritious lunch was enjoyed as I took in the seaside view with my feet propped up on the sill of our porch.  Thirst forced me to seek out a beverage from the lounge. The beverage station offered just about anything you had a hankering for – water, tea, soda fountain machine plus a fancy coffee machine that could even make double cappuccinos.  I want one! (I also want a self-replenishing refrigerator where all the food is automatically prepped to my needs.)  I settled for grabbing a banana from the “low tech” fruit bowl and settled into an armchair to journal. 

Lindblad is great about making their experts available for advice and questions.  After lunch, guests could meet with the photo instructor, Juan Carlos, in the kiosk area for assistance with camera and photography questions. 

At 3 pm, anyone who wanted to join naturalist Antonio Adrian Montalvo for a presentation on Charles Darwin was welcomed to do so in the lounge.  Antonio stated that one or two books on Darwin are published every year.  Below is a summary of the lecture I eagerly attended.  It is in a different font so it can be bypassed if the reader is not interested.  (But if you aren’t interested, I will certainly judge you. J)

Antonio explained that Darwin was always in interested in Nature as a child, spending most of his time outdoors.  He came from a well-educated family that had an extensive library.  Yet most of the books available to him were on religion.  Then, at the beginning of the 1800s, a new brand of books emerged.  This was the Pax Britannica, a time of relative peace in Europe and the world (1815-1915) during which the British Empire became the global hegemonic power.

During this time, natural history expeditions flourished.  Britain had a huge navy and put its manpower and resources to work on scientific research.   The outlines of the continents were known, except for Antarctica, but the interior features were not.  To that end a new onboard position was created – science officer – for the purpose of scientific surveys.   Antonio mentioned that Spock, of Star Trek fame, was the starship USS Enterprise’s science officer

Darwin, who was supposed to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps by studying medicine at Edinburgh, didn’t.  He wasn’t into studying and he despised the sight of blood.  It was during this time that he learned taxidermy from a freed Guyanese slave named John Edmonstone at Edinburgh University.  During Darwin’s around-the-world voyage on the HMS Beagle, he collected and preserved the famed finches using the techniques Edmonstone taught him, allowing him to draw his pivotal conclusions.  Edmonstone’s vivid accounts of Guyanese rainforests might have also inspired Darwin to study natural history instead of medicine. 

But it was Charles Lyell, the famed Scottish geologist and paleontologist who befriended Darwin and strongly influenced his thought.  In particular, Darwin’s reading of Lyell’s Principles of Geology prompted him to think of evolution as a slow process in which small changes gradually accumulate over immense spans of time.   Lyell emphasized natural law.  In emphasizing these natural processes, he undermined the claims of earlier geologists, many of whom had a distinct tendency to explain geological formation in terms of biblical floods. 

Darwin was also greatly influenced by his friend and mentor Professor John Stevens Henslow, an English clergyman, botanist and geologist.  Darwin helped Stevens collect plants for his catalogue on British plants.  In the summer of 1831, Henslow was offered a place as naturalist to sail aboard the survey ship HMS Beagle on a two-year voyage to survey South America, but his wife dissuaded him from accepting. Seeing a perfect opportunity for his protégé, Henslow wrote to the ship’s captain Robert Fitzroy telling him that the 23-year-old Darwin was the ideal man to join the expedition team.

On the morning of 27 December 1831, H.M.S. Beagle, with a crew of seventy-three men, sailed out of Plymouth harbor under a calm easterly wind and drizzly rain. Darwin became seasick almost immediately and started to have second thoughts about the voyage. He wanted to get off the ship at the Canary Islands but, due to a cholera outbreak in England, Spain would not allow him to disembark.  He had no choice but to continue on.  Seasickness was a major and ever-present problem, incapacitating him for days/weeks at a time.   Bad news.  He was going to experience the roughest seas in the world, the Drake Passage, the body of water between South America’s Cape Horn and the South Shetland Islands of Antarctica.  As a matter of fact, Charles and I want to visit Antarctica but have ruled it out because we are not sure OUR tummies would handle this (plus the fact that the trip costs around $70,000.)

Once Darwin landed in Brazil, and discovered the wealth of its tropical rain forests, he decided, no matter what, he would become the ship’s naturalist. He described the scene as beautiful beyond his wildest dreams. He would go on to spend three of the five years he was away on land exploring, collecting and labeling specimens. 

So, I’m thinking here, if he was sharing the captain’s cabin, did he bring a lot of this stuff into the cabin with him?  He must have made for an interesting roommate. On one trip alone he took about 80 species of exotic tropical birds, nine species of snake, a native deer, eight species of mouse, a Capybara and a Tucutuco.  He had them crated and sent to Reverend Henslow, and continued doing so, ultimately becoming famous for his finds.

It was 200 miles inland in Argentina that he saw the violent nature of geology.  The walls of the river valley he explored had the same layers of shells he had seen many times before. It was during this expedition that Darwin theorized that the cliffs of the river valley, and indeed the Andes Mountains themselves, had been slowly raising above sea level.

The evidence for a planet in a state of constant flux was becoming stronger and stronger. In Darwin's day the notion of changes on a planetary scale went against the view that God's creation was perfect and thus change was unnecessary.

The stop in the Galapagos was meant to be a “convenience store” stop.  It was this stop that changed the world’s thinking.  Every species he found was unique in the world.  He had surmised the natural rafts had brought the flora and fauna from the continent.  His explorations uncovered 14 species of tortoises, each specific to a particular island. 

Darwin recognized that 14 different “rafts” could not have landed at 14 different places so what’s up with that? Life was choosing certain animals. The potential of reproduction is astronomical but survival is miniscule. What was its mechanism?  It was later, while back in England that he came up with his theory of natural selection.  By the way, yet another species of tortoise was recently discovered – in October 2015!

He saw that certain characteristics could make a difference in survival.  In exceptional conditions, the edge creatures  -- the ones with favorable genetic mutations -- could survive better.  Those creatures passed their survival feature onto offspring.  Because these creatures developed in isolation on an island, they became their own species, unable to recognize another similar species as belonging to their group.  They could interbreed but would not because of this. 

(IMAGE: Darwin’s observations of finches with different beaks adapted to different diets.)

Antonio went on to explain how Darwin wrote of his theory but did not want his papers published until after his death, recognizing it would bring the wrath of the religious upon his head.  He was forced to publish when another scientist, Alfred Russell Wallace, sent Darwin a 3-page summary describing this theory.  This forced Darwin to publish his On the Origin of Species.

His scientific contributions to humanity can be compared to those of Issac Newton and Albert Einstein. 

After the lecture – which ran a bit late and you can understand why if you read the above – we got our gear ready for our visit to Punta Espinoza on Fernandina Island.  Charles had left his life preserver at the wet suit storage area and went to retrieve it.  Meanwhile, the last panga was loading.  I was nervous as I thought there was a chance they would leave without him.  He just made it.

Fernandina is the youngest in the archipelago.  A volcano created this island in 1820, which is one of the reasons the Galapagos Islands are so special.  Islands are still evolving.  Fernandina is an imposing volcano rising to nearly 5,000 feet in elevation. It is one of the most active volcanoes in the world, erupting since 2009, making it the world’s largest pristine island.  And we would get to walk on it, making it a little less pristine.

It flanks were streaked with innumerable fresh lava flows and, as we walked, we could see how the lava “froze” in braids and glops.  I don’t believe these are terms geologists would use.  (They call it – and I dare you to pronounce it –  ʻaʻā and pāhoehoe.)   We were taken to the outskirts of the crater for obvious safety reasons. 

Because of recent volcanic activity, it was mostly rocky, which would hurt a ridiculous amount if you fell because many of the surfaces were razor sharp.  We visited in the late afternoon, which is a merciful time as, if you did it at noon, the black lava’s absorption of the sun’s rays would make it very hot. 

Mottled black and grey marine iguanas, speckled lava lizards, and Sally Lightfoot Crabs in various stages of growth and, therefore, colors, bejeweled the lava field.  Most of the iguanas were already bunched in groups for the night, eyes shut, motionless, seemingly unmindful of our presence.  The El Nino, which brings abundant rainfall and halts the growth of marine algae, leading to massive marine iguana deaths, had not yet reached the islands.   Yet there were dead and dying iguanas because there were some effects of the change in weather patterns.

The island is geologically exciting and, under less grim circumstances, I would have enjoyed it more.  During our visit, the bleak landscape, with its sparse vegetation, foreboded some of the sadder aspects of nature.  It was hard for me to watch iguanas inland, not far from the resurgent algae, dying due to starvation.  They were just waiting for death.  

Upon disembarking from the panga, we had to pick our way over the lava rocks, being careful not to slip as the receding waters as the tide lowered left them wet. 

The low tide revealed the bright green algae upon which the marine iguanas feed.  Now they could feast without diving. 

Tidal pools laced with algae and trapped damselfish appeared. A lava heron was poised to take advantage of the land-locked prey.   Sally Lightfoot Crabs carefully sided away from us as we approached.  It was hard to resist photographing them because their striking yellow, red, and orange coloring “popped” against the black rocks.  They wouldn’t pose!  They were more afraid of us than the island mammals, birds, and reptiles were. 

A Galapagos snake slithered through a slaughter of iguanas (as a group of them are called) seeking baby iguanas to constrict to death and then swallow.   Our videographer was quite excited to see it because Galapagos snakes are a rare sight.  He was bemused that we were so taken with snapping pictures of the iguanas, when this much rarer sight was before us.  Little did he – or our guide Juan Carolos – know that we would end of seeing FOURTEEN of them.  We even saw one swallowing a baby iguana.  I was very good at remaining detached at the sight.  Well, mostly detached.  My empathy gene is HUGE, as Trump would say; particularly given he only knows five adjectives.     Juan, however, was delighted as, in all his years of guiding, he had never been able to photograph that event.

The lava rocks gave way to a sandy trail as we headed a bit further inland.  A whale skeleton was positioned for display along with a bottlenose dolphin skull and a sea lion’s shoulder blade, among others.  Juan took a moment to give an accounting as to the origin of the whale and a succinct comparative anatomy lesson on the skulls before us.   There was a slight elevation change as we ascended to a lava field; barren except for a few bunches of lava cacti.  It was in this vicinity that we began to see the snakes.  One went between a guest’s legs in its effort to slither away. 

Charles called my attention to three flightless cormorants.  Man they were hard to see amidst the lava rocks.  My eyes surveyed the scene before me:  the rocky coast indented with small inlets here and there and the ocean beyond with the sun poised   to begin its rapid downward descent.   A great blue heron fished off the point, which shone a brilliant green in the special light dusk imparts, giving a luster to colors like no other time in the day. 

While the group lingered over this sight, I wandered a bit in exploration.  I so wish I hadn’t.  Charles, in calling me over to see the birds, hoped I would miss that sight I was about to experience.  At first I thought I had discovered a sweet sight – a baby sea lion sleeping alone on the sand.   As I took pictures, the realization came slowly but unflinchingly.  The baby was starving.   Its skin was buckled where fat should have been.  Flies were buzzing around, worrying it.  It feebly would flap his/her flipper to fend them off but that was not possible.  The baby had been separated from its mom by some happenstance and it would die there.

I came to the Galapagos to experience Nature.  Nature is not kind or cruel.  It just is.  To experience the Galapagos in its entirety, one must witness the entirety of nature – not just the fun or beautiful stuff.  I will admit that I am close to tears as I relate this account.   At first, I was going to be cowardly and not include it, preferring to eradicate the image from my mind.  But, for the aforementioned reason, I had to.  I did not sleep well that night thinking about its suffering.  I never forgot it over the ensuing days.  The image kept creeping into my mind and I had to make myself emotionally understand that this is what Nature is and does.   I doubt this memory will ever be eradicated from my mind.  I don’t do sad well.    OK, I do it too well.  It seeps into every cell of my body when it comes to animals.

Lauren and Charles came to get me.  It was time to go.  We passed by a mama sea lion nursing her baby.  The flies were bedeviling her as well, flying and landing on her nipples where the milk had dried. Mom kept shifting position for some relief and, as she did so, the baby would whelp in frustration.   You could tell the flies were   maddening.  She finally got up, holding the iconic pose of head up, flippers out in support of this erect posture.  I wondered why she picked this island.  I did not see flies bothering sea lions on other islands.   The sight of the mom taking care of her baby was at once soothing and jarring.  I could end the day on a bit brighter note but the contrast of a well-fed baby with the other languishing a few feet away in some ways made it worse. 

The sun, as if to distract me, put on quite a show at dusk.  It was a huge orange orb and it slipped swiftly below the horizon, yielding a riot of yellows, oranges, pinks, and reds.  The group had stopped to experience it together.  We waited for one more color that is rarely seen at the exact moment the sun disappears from the horizon.  A green flash.  When the conditions are right, a green spot is visible above the upper rim of the disk of the sun. The green appearance usually lasts for no more than a second or two.  I have looked for the green flash for years. It looks like I will have to continue to do so as it did not happen that day.

It was slow going to reach the boat.  We had to be exceedingly cautious as we navigated over the treacherous rocks, which were slippery.  Juan Carlos coached us as to the path to follow and, nearer to the launch site, a line of green towels made the walk much safer and easier.  It struck me how so not pioneer folk we were.  The towels, while necessary, were a bit pampering. 

Lynn, as was typical, greeted us as our panga came alongside the ship.  She was actually shocked by the number of snakes we had seen.  She urged us to shower quickly because there was a social on the sky deck with complimentary cocktails.  Charles showered and I, not one to miss a minute of a party, remained in my hiking clothes.  We had scarcely ordered our drinks when an announcement came over the intercom that our recap meeting in the lounge was about to begin.

Bonnie, Dave, Robyn, Lauren, and I perched on the bars’ stools while Jill was seated with “her family,” Kathy and Jim Adams.  Juan Carlos gave a short tutorial on the camera’s f-stop setting.  It’s a way to control the amount of light that comes into the aperture.   I think.

Alexa, the hotel manager, explained the items in the glass-front cases across from the information desk were locally made items.  She was proud that Lindblad supports local artisans by exposing their crafts to tourists.  We would later make some purchases.  Jill bought Lauren a Galapagos-themed coffee mug with a blue-footed booby on it and Charles and I gave Lauren a hand-carved miniature sea lion.

Dinner conversation was about the presidential race featuring comments on Trump, Hillary, and Rubio.  Afterwards, Bonnie, Charles, and I headed to the sky deck to see if the night was right for stargazing. Lauren and Jill were already up there.  We only saw the Southern Cross, the waxing moon, Jupiter and Mars. I knew that Mars was closest to Earth then than it would be all year, making it easier to spot. 

Early night.  We were back in our cabin at 9:15 p.m.  Our bed was incredibly comfortable.  The Islander remained quietly anchored off Punta Espinoza until 4:30 a.m. when it set its bearings for Isla Espinoza.  The boat gently rocked and we continued to sleep.