Walking with dinosaurs

Now, we aint exactly cruise people. With some trepidation of silver surfers who are allergic to kids (no offence) and organised games in the bar each night, we boarded our plane looking surreptitiously at everyone else with a Galapagos Legend sticker. Yup, a plentiful supply of SKI-ers. But hey, we found out at the airport we had an upgrade to our cabins. Yeah! For only the second time this trip we had two rooms. A bit of peace and privacy … bliss. We were shepherded around the airport, unable to make a wrong move, with everything taken care of.

Galapagos is a fair old way out to sea: about 1,000kms west of Ecuador, right on the equator, and 1,100kms south of Costa Rica. Guess Costa Rica got the bum deal on the ownership front. It’s a couple of hours’ flight to the middle of nowhere, but coming into the islands was spectacular. We saw dolphins from the plane, plus a gorgeous looking boat in an azure cove, and landed precariously on a tiny airstrip next to the sea on Baltra, one of the few man-infested islands. We remarked how much it looked like Utah, except for the glorious clear sea all around. Dusty, dry, scrub with the odd cactus … but when we arrived a short time later at the jetty for our panga (dinghy) ride to the ship, all similarities ended. A bench was festooned with sealions, lolling in the sun. Iguanas and startling red & blue crabs sat unperturbed on the black rocky shoreline. We started grinning. That didn’t stop as we donned lifejackets and set off across the sea, to find that the beautiful boat we had seen from the air was indeed ours.

The ship was fantastic … a pool, four decks, bar, lounge, play area, chess corner … plenty of room to hide from the golden oldies. Even better, we spotted three other families with kids, so ours would not be alone in terrorising and generally disturbing our fellow passengers.
We were on the moon deck, the top, and the best, naturally.
We quickly set sail to the nearby island of Bartolome, and sailing was fantastic: very calm, wind in your hair, and the sun beating down. It reached 35 degrees during the day in most of the islands, and we did get pretty brown even with lashings of suntan cream.

We sailed to and visited
Bartolome
Urbina Bay on Isabela
Espinosa Point on Fernandina
Egas Point on Santiago
Rabida
Aroya Port on Santa Cruz
Bachas Beach on Santa Cruz
Then back to Baltra.

As soon as we were on board we were treated to our first taste of administrative perfection (if not anal retentiveness) and were divided into groups. We heaved a huge sigh of relief to escape being in Boobies, no we kid you not, though Jenna still had a giggle every time they were called. We learnt that we were Frigates; fidgets as Rowan called us; or frigids according to Jim, one of our team. We also learnt the rules, and yes there are many. We had a great time practising the abandon ship drill complete with lifejackets. We found out we were supposed to muster on the opposite side of the boat to the kids, and that Jenna had no lifejacket. Alas, both happy events were quickly undone by the crew so another escape plan was foiled. We were reunited and everyone kitted out. We also got a taster of the utter rigidity of schedules … we would be awakened by the dulcet tones of our cruise director at 6.45am to be at breakfast 7.00am sharp and ready to disembark 45 minutes later. Eeek.

15 minutes before 4.00pm, the military operation of disembarkation began, with groups being called, nagged and then having dire final warnings. You’ve got to hand it to the crew, they certainly know how to get 100 people to attention and to places on time, arriving at well spaced intervals so you don’t crowd each other. It’s a fine art … sometimes it felt oppressive, but most of the time it was impressive and pretty necessary when you consider the environment you are in. There was certainly no time to be bored!

After a short panga ride with our newly formed group of Frigates, we got our first taste of the wildlife at the island of Bartolome that very afternoon and it was breathtaking. Galapagos is not only unique for species that live nowhere else on earth, but also for the fearlessness of the creatures. They are totally unphased by visitors of the human variety, presumably not having been hunted or harassed for several generations. Galapagos will spoil you rotten, as you get used to being able to sit next to a sealion feeding her baby, close enough to hear him nursing, or lie down amongst dozens of black, prehistoric looking iguanas. The animals are near enough to touch, but the rules are strict: absolutely no touching. We climbed to the highest point of the island – Rhys was, of course, first to the top of our party. Heat be damned – he just ran up. The view was spectacular, one of the most famous in Galapagos, and you feel like the only people on the island. The landscape was amazing, alien, volcanic, with spectacular lava flows frozen into rock. Jenna, after a long day of flying and sailing, fell asleep on Joe’s shoulder as he assumed his familiar pack horse role, hauling her up the long hill. It was well worth it for the sunset and the view.

We also got our first taste of snorkelling that afternoon, with Rhys and Joe at the vanguard, and the rest of us having a go in the shallows. Joe was well rewarded.

- I just have to butt in here and say that I was looking forward to the snorkelling in the Galapagos, as our guide reminded us, so much of the life here is under the water. I had also heard that you could swim with the sea-lions, turtles and penguins but I must say I took this all with a pinch of salt! On the very afternoon we arrived on the ship we had our first opportunity to swim, Rhys and I headed out around a rocky outcrop jutting out from the beach. The water was filed with fish, some quite large and very beautiful. Rhys has become quite a competent snorkeller now and for 20 minutes or so we pottered around just taking in the show. When he got tired I escorted him back to the beach and thought I would have another quick go by myself before it was time to return to the ship. I headed out along the rocks and then out into slightly deeper water past the end of the outcrop. Not so many fish here and I could see the sand sloping away into the depths. Suddenly a black shape as large as myself whooshed past my left side. To say I was scared witless would be an understatement. I had no idea what it was and then below me, swimming at the same speed as me, on its back and giving me a thorough inspection was a sea-lion, and then another and another. Swimming past and then back, above below and all around. They stayed for about a minute and then they headed off and unable to keep up I headed back to shore.

As I sat with Rach back on the boat that night I couldn’t help but think what an amazing experience it was to swim with wild sea lions, something totally unforgettable and unrepeatable. Or so I thought… Galapagos is such an extraordinary place that in fact I had another two opportunities to swim with these fantastic creatures and a giant sea turtle to boot!

Off Rabida island Rhys and I had the chance to deep sea snorkel off the panga. The water was cold and the fish bigger and in larger shoals. After a little while Rhys decided to return to the dinghy which was a bit a shame as soon after a sea lion appeared and stayed for ages playing with the group. I also spotted a giant sea turtle swimming gracefully into the depths and others in the group saw rays and sharks. Truly amazing. The great barrier reef now has a lot to live up to.

The kids were able to keep their lifejackets on when swimming, which meant even Jenna could pootle around with the shoals of tiny fish. “I’m swimming with the fishies!” she kept saying over and over. The water was crystal clear and warm.

On that first night, Joe and I stayed out on deck gazing up at the incredible stars, and were the only ones awake when the ship lifted anchor at midnight. We were treated to a late moonrise, and it is very bizarre to see not only all the constellations lying sideways, but also the moon – not sitting upright, but rising huge and harvest, like a bowl. The day-like moonlight on the water was magical.

During the day, when sailing, pelicans and also frigates, which look for all the world like pterodactyls, flew above the ship, presumably so they could have a rest as necessary on their long inter-island journeys. When anchored, sealions played around the ship, especially at night when the lights drew the insects, which attract the small fish, which in turn draw the sealions right up to the bows. And not only sealions, but shyer turtles, rays, and once a hammerhead shark, which circled the ship several times to the kids’ delight. Infact it is lovely how many grown men and women you saw with faces lit up like childrens’ as they enjoyed these close encounters. One of the most popular evening sports was hanging over the railings, eagle eyed, to spot the latest visitors.

But not much time was spent on the boat as we haired around from island to island, usually two in one day, with a couple of hours walking and a couple in the water. I had a blissful afternoon when the kids, pooped, stayed back on board kindly guarded and herded by Joe. We saw hundreds of marine iguanas, one of the most amazing examples of evolution on the planet. Somehow at least two of the large orange coloured land iguanas had made it over 1,000 kilometres from the mainland on some driftwood, and started their own new dynasty. They are still there, and we saw many, even sitting right on our path. But as they stayed, some decided to go back into the water. So they adapted to be able to a) swim, b) deal with salt water, which they get rid of by spitting – quite alarming when you’re lying amongst them – and c) turned themselves black to provide perfect camouflage whilst basking on the lava rock.
Another amazing example is the penguins, which I also saw that afternoon. This was probably the first bird to find its way to Galapagos, and it must have thought it was paradise. No competition, no predators, and an amazing supply of tasty fish. Deciding they need never move again, their children and grandchildren never flew, and wings became shorter and shorter: more suited to diving than flying. And now they don’t fly at all, much like the penguin. Did I mention penguins??! Oh yes, Galapagos has its own indigenous species, too. And flamingos. Humpback whales. Darwin finches. So many of these species never ever leave – I suppose flocks or shoals sitting off south America dream one day of moving to Galapagos as others dream of living in Malibu.

After just a day or so we were even more in admiration of the organising company. Our group of fidgets were great company. Two Poles, two Canadian women travellers, a family from Milwaukee with a daughter who studies in Quito, and two great American women travelling together. Our guide was Juan Carlos, a font of knowledge and a Galapagos botanist for over 20 years (Joe remarked he must have started when he was a toddler then). Whether any of them minded the kids we shall never know, but if they did they certainly didn’t show it. Rowan quickly adopted and melted the ear off Mo and Lori, and we hardly saw her when on the islands. Rhys was rather busy steaming off ahead and counting geckos, but Jenna – normally the most shy and often downright rude child around people – took a major shine to Julia, a lovely person in her third year of university, currently studying in Quito. Jenna was besotted and she couldn’t get enough of Julia, who bore all this with incredible patience and good humour.
We looked at other groups, and other guides, and we thanked our lucky stars. Every one of the group was fascinating, well travelled and great company, and our guide Juan Carlos was knowledgeable, fun and above all patient. We saw some other groups being nagged to stick together and hurry up – Juan Carlos let us croon over an abandoned baby sea lion until we were ready to let it go. But he did persuade us not to rescue it: natural selection, unfortunately. I was glad the kids weren’t with me that afternoon, as it was heartbreaking to hear it calling pitifully for a mother who had probably fallen foul of the sharks when trying to fish for her baby. Nature isn’t always pretty.

We saw far happier family scenes … sea lions in scores, playing in the surf, pups feeding, and one that had literally just been born with its mother. The bull males were enormous and noisy: Jim, Judith and Julia from Milwaukee got a shock one afternoon when one appeared out of the sea just after Jim made his exit from snorkelling, and promptly took his flippers. They are mighty big, and not to be messed with! We also had a close encounter with a manta ray the size of our panga, closely followed by swimming through clouds of blood: Juan Carlos surmised it was a sea lion that had just been eaten by a shark. Gulp.

We are probably never going to be able to go to a zoo again. There is nothing like seeing these creatures wild and so close, exhibiting their natural behaviours. Swimming with them, walking with them, sitting eye to eye. There are times when you have to stop yourself short to stop stepping on an iguana or a sea lion. We had a surreal conversation with the kids one afternoon as they were looking at creatures a few feet out from the shore … you know, where you find yourself saying impatiently things you never thought you would …
“No, THAT’S a turtle, THAT’S a sea lion and THAT ONE is a penguin.” Seriously.
Jim also made a lovely remark as we watched a mother and pup lying and playing together in the waves, letting the water roll them over and over, hugging and chatting. He said it was as perfect a life for a family as he could imagine, except perhaps taking your kids round the world for a year. Told you we had a great group.

Now we crossed the equator four times in our journey, and apparently had to ask Neptune’s permission. So, on the penultimate night, Mo roped her inseparable pal Rowan, and Rhys (not to be outdone) into a pageant type thing. Once again this wouldn’t normally be our scene at all, but it was great fun, and the kids were fantastic as dolphin and penguin respectively. They then danced the Macarena and YMCA until we dragged them to bed, as we couldn’t keep OUR eyes open any more. This night solidified the kids’ friendships with another family on board, namely Cameron and Morgan, both aged 9 from Denver, Colorado. Cameron didn’t eat another meal with his family, and even became an honorary frigate. It was great to see the kids all playing together, as they had all been a bit wary of each other for the first couple of days.

The four nights and five days flew past, though the latest day was a bit queasy on the sea front. It looked calm, but there was an enormous swell. Even Joe, as hardy a man as you can get, found the combination of the intense heat of the equatorial sun, the ship’s motion, no swim that day and possibly a dodgy meal (though the ship treated us very well on that front it must be said) too much, and felt really rough. But no-one was sick at all, indeed our biggest worry Jenna seemed hardly to notice.

Suddenly it was our last full day, and we spent it on Santa Cruz, in the morning at the Charles Darwin Research Station, then in the afternoon Joe and Rowan headed up to the highlands. It was most bizarre to be on an inhabited island again: the first houses, cars and roads we had seen on the voyage. Admittedly there were not very many of them, so we were eased back into civilisation gently. But there was a great reason for going – the Galapagos giant tortoise, older than the hills, the prehistoric creature the islands were named after. The rescue and breeding programme has been a great success, and there are now, once again, thousands of tortoises living wild, different species on the different islands. But alas they haven’t yet found a mate for Lonesome George, the only known example of his species from Isla Pinta. Still, he’s only in his sixties so he’s just a spring chicken with decades of time to try and find him a female.
Some of the tortoises are really, really big, but the ones Rowan and Joe saw in the afternoon are simply enormous. It is hard to believe such ancient creatures can still exist, but they not only exist, they’re thriving.

The last morning dawned even earlier than usual at 6.15, and by 7 we were walking on the deserted Bachas beach, so named after the barges or landing vessels used by the US navy when they stationed troops here four months after Pearl Harbour, it being a perfect look out post for any invasion of the Americas from Japan. Alas they left their vessels behind after the war, but 60 years have worn them down to just a few stumps of iron, more a curiosity than a mess, thank goodness. The beach is simply glorious: white from ancient coral that lived when the volcanoes warmed the sea many years ago. Sand so fine it was like caster sugar, sloping into beautiful calm seas. We saw wild flamingos stirring up shrimps in a small lake, while penguins swam and sea lions lazed. Then for our very last snorkel and swim, and it was time to go. Ours was the very last group to leave the island, of course, and then we all had half a mind not to go back. We would do as the pirates did and find some way to make marine iguana edible, and hey, a day or so’s walk would get us to the nice little cafes and couple of shops near the Charles Darwin station, so retail and nicotine addictions could be assuaged! When our panga engine failed to start for the first 9 or 10 times, we laughed ourselves silly, no one really worried. Hey, we’d live out our very own series of Lost.

There is simply nowhere else like Galapagos on earth, and we will never be able to forget it. It’s also probably ruined us for any other wildlife spotting areas we may visit! Where else will we see such incredible diversity at such close quarters, and so fearless? But, on a practical note, four days is probably enough. You never want to get complacent, or fed up of seeing sealions and boobies. And longer than that, and you just might. Leave while you’re loving it. We did, and returned windswept, much browner and still swaying gently after days on the boat, to another universe – Quito.