Travels to the Galápagos

Travels to the Galápagos

Saturday, February 16, 2002

Daphne Major/Baltra/Departure/Guayaquil

We weighed anchor at 4:00 a.m. The Polaris circumnavigated Daphne Major at sunrise, on route to Baltra and its airport. Daphne Major is the small island on which Rosemary and Peter Grant have conducted research on finches for many (~ 20) years, recently made famous in the book The Beak of the Finch by Jonathan Weiner.

Sunrise over Baltra was beautiful - pink light that threw the underside of fluffy cumulus clouds into sharp relief.

Daphne Major is an eroded tuff cone, with twin craters on top, approximately 34 ha in area and 40m high. We saw the Grants' tent near the top on an outside slope, and the Grants themselves having breakfast under a tarp lower down (covering and surrounded by containers of supplies). There were well-worn trails connecting the two sites to each other, to the top of the island, and to the precarious landing site. Seabirds were flying as the sun rose - blue-footed boobies, Nazca boobies, red-billed tropicbirds, and magnificent frigates. Prickly pear cactus and other plants grew on the mostly brown outside slope of the island. We could not (unsurprisingly) see any of the famous finches from our perch on the Polaris, although we could see Sally Lightfoot crabs on rocks just above the water. Also in view were Daphne Minor, North Seymour, Baltra, Santa Cruz, and a couple of rocks probably too small to merit a name.

Several fellow passengers have complimented us on the children's behavior. They were, in fact, mostly good, misbehaving no more than would be expected of a ten-year-old sister and her twelve-year-old brother. They've certainly enjoyed themselves.

In port just off Baltra, what at first looked like a sea lion swimming under the surface upside down turned out to be two rays mating - brown on top, pale underneath.

As we waited in the small harbor for the TAME flight, a couple of local fishermen loaded large, freshly-caught catch onto the Polaris for the next group of passengers, who would be arriving soon.

A sea lion farewell committee greeted us at the Baltra dock - two sea lions lazily perched on a small boat with an outboard motor, and two more up by the waiting bus. One lazily crossed the road, which was empty of any other vehicles. Their facial expressions, head movements, even their eyebrow motions, strongly reminded me of our golden retriever waiting at home.

Paul, one of our guides, originally from London, asked me to mail a medium-sized envelope to the U.K. for him. The envelope in turn held several smaller envelopes. He said that sending snail mail this way is the only way to ensure that it will be delivered - with a returning U.S. or U.K. passenger. Using Ecuadorian mail, it may never arrive at all, or if it does, it may take many weeks. He says e-mail has changed his life. He and his Ecuadorian-born wife live in Puerto Ayora, and have started a school for their two young children and other children.

What would Darwin's voyage (and subsequent life) have been like if one imagines e-mail (only) added to contemporary 19^th century technology?

On the short road to the airport, we saw prickly pear cactus "trees," palo santos, palo verdes, and many clumps of still-brown grass. Although this is officially the rainy season, the only rain that we encountered during the whole week were the brief, cooling afternoon showers on our first day in Venecia.

The next group of Polaris passengers is arriving now, late morning, on the same airplane we will soon be taking back to Guayaquil. Airport security is far more relaxed here in Baltra than it was in the states -- and that's probably OK. It's hard to imagine terrorists staging operations from a place like this. It was more-or-less like airport security was in the U.S. not so long ago.

On the flight from the Galápagos, I did not have as good a view as I did on our arrival - I had an aisle seat, and our window was somewhat warped, but at least it was on the right side of the plane. (The right side has a better vantage outbound, while the left side is better inbound).

While taxiing to the northwest, taking off to the southeast, and flying to the east, we had our last glimpses of the islands (for this year, anyway): Baltra, the Daphnes, the narrow channel that separates Baltra from Santa Cruz, and the eastern part of Santa Cruz. Off the northeast corner of Santa Cruz were the Plazas, two parallel, thin islets running east-west, with a shallow channel between them. I wonder how those islands were formed. Farther to the east were a couple of rocks that must be the tip of a former volcano. As Darwin observed of these islands generally, [add hyperlink to quote] they were more heavily eroded on the southeast side. Currents had breached a passage on the northwest side. Overall, they were reminiscent of Devil's Crown off Floreana.

In the distance, we glimpsed hazy views of Santiago and San Cristobal. We could not see the latter for long, due to clouds. (There had been hot sunshine in Baltra, through partly cloudy skies.)

While this journal has focused primarily on what happened outside the ship, I should comment on the ship and cruise company before concluding. At all times - before the trip, dealing with reservations, in Guayaquil, in the Galápagos, on the Polaris, the staff of Lindblad could not have been more accommodating. Lindblad seems genuinely interested both in supporting local businesses and individuals, and in protecting the environment. Lindblad claims to have been the first touring company to make contributions to support the environment here, beginning with Polaris' arrival in Galápagos some four years ago. The Charles Darwin Research Station representative who spoke to us on Wednesday night said that Lindblad was responsible for larger donations to the Charles Darwin Foundation than any other touring company. He seemed genuinely grateful. Towards the end of the week, without being heavy-handed, Lindblad encouraged passengers to make a donation to the Foundation to help protect the wildlife we had enjoyed for the last week. I was planning to do so anyway, and personally didn't need any extra encouragement, but the resulting voucher towards future travel on Lindblad was a nice piece of lagniappe - and could help others decide to open their wallets.

Lindblad sometimes allows local schoolteachers and scientists to travel on the Polaris without charge, on a space-available basis. Two such Ecuadorean scientists joined our cruise on the Puerto Ayora-to-Baltra half of the week. Lindblad also donated the services of the Polaris for a week to PBS for the filming of a recent Scientific American Frontiers show on the Galápagos, with Alan Alda. PBS auctioned the cabins not used in the production to patrons around the country to raise money.

We probably traveled as inexpensively as any paying guests (still expensive for us), but here was never even a hint of second-class status. Not only did the kids go for free, but we declined the optional trip insurance offered by an affiliated company (overpriced, in my view, with its one-size-fits-all premium, but others who are differently situated might feel differently, e.g., those with health problems), and we also had selected the cheapest cabins. My wife, who had been on a cruise ship before (I never had), correctly advised that the substantial premium one is charged for a larger window, or for a slightly larger room, is not worth it unless you have money to burn - one spends very little time in one's cabin anyway, as earlier pages in this journal should attest.

The cruise was not inexpensive, but Lindblad did not nickel-and-dime us to death either, as more conventional cruise ships are wont to do. "You'd like to get off the boat to see the marine iguanas at Española? Sure, sure. That'll be $300 extra. Per person." No, nothing like that. Basically everything was included, except alcoholic beverages, e-mail, ship-to-shore telephone, and small purchases in the little gift shop.

The food was good, but did not quite measure up to the service - I would give it a "7" on a 10-point scale. It was not as good as we've had, for example, at a land-based lodge in the Canadian Rockies in British Columbia. But here they're feeding more people in all, with a much wider selection available at each meal, in a ship in an isolated location on the Equator. A pretty tall order. The food was always freshly made, offered variety, and featured Ecuadorian cuisine (or at least Ecuadorian ingredients). My wife told me that the food was considerably better than that on other cruises she has been on with her family. The Polaris bartender, John, was a big hit with the kids, chatting with them, and mixing them non-alcoholic versions of various drinks, or even creating new ones to order.

Although all the naturalists were excellent, special mention must go to the Ecuadorian-born Carlos Romero. Also worthy of special mention are (1) Cindy Manning, expedition leader, very knowledgeable, and in charge of keeping running many of the things that were most visible to the passengers. (2) Tove Petterson, the Norwegian-born video chronicler of our trip. I must admit that when I first read on the Lindblad website that our trip would include a video chronicler, I was a bit skeptical. It sounded like a hoaky way for the cruise ship to raise money. Well, I was wrong. Tove earned her keep, and then some. It seemed like she was everywhere with her digital camera, at all times. Somehow she also found the time to edit and assemble a professional video production, make copies, and deliver them to our cabins before we checked out on Saturday. The finished product blew me away. It was like something you'd see on PBS, Discovery, or Animal Planet - it was that good - but it depicted all the things we had just done over the last few days. (3) Many others kept other things running smoothly behind the scenes, but my journal is running out of pages so I'll stop here. If one of you reads this someday, please, please do not feel slighted -- you were all great.

Carlos at Baltra





Cindy Manning, morning announcements at Daphne Major





Captain





Executive Officer





Willi, hotel manager





Super





Tove





John, Bartender





John, Bartender





Ship Doctor





Carmen at Puerto Egas, Santiago





Paul at Puerto Egas, Santiago

Speaking of the website, members of our family appear (more or less visible) on the Lindblad Galápagos postings for Monday and Wednesday.

The only real "minuses" I can think of, and they are petty compared to all the "pluses," were: (1) travel from the U.S. to Baltra is not exactly convenient, and (2) the cabins tended to be on the warm side. On the former point, maybe it's not such a bad thing that the islands are still somewhat inconvenient to reach by air. They probably need no more tourist pressure than already exists. On the latter point, Polaris was originally built (sometime in the 1960's, I think) as an automobile ferry somewhere in Scandinavia, and now has been refitted to operate as a cruise ship on the equator; a fan in the room helped to supplement the air conditioning; and the main public areas, the lounge, library, and restaurant, were kept cooler.

It was too cloudy to see much on our descent into Guayaquil. Several crew and staff from the Polaris are on this same TAME flight as we are, rotating out for some well-deserved time off.

Guayaquil. The airport was far less torturous on this domestic arrival. On the bus to the hotel, we saw a fuzzy white dog riding calmly atop another bus. A brief city tour that afternoon was offered as part of our Galápagos package, as lagniappe. It was a whirlwind tour that I can't begin to give the full flavor of here, so I'll mention just a few things. Again, the contrast between the rich and poor was striking. Someone with money could live well here. Feral dogs. Soccer in the street. Bright, gaudy colored houses in a poor area that was the site of the original city. (The original city burned.) A very nice, very successful riverfront development, revitalizing 3 km of a formerly rundown area. An unbelievably large cemetery that covers acres - an old style above-ground cemetery (think: old New Orleans cemeteries, but on a hill). Block after block after block of multi-story mausoleums. Graves for the wealthier climbing up the hillside. Huge.

Billboards encouraging women to breast-feed. Green iguanas in municipal parks, on the ground, and in trees. The iguanas are fed vegetables to encourage them to stay were people may see them. They are not, so far as I know, thought to be ancestral to the Galápagos Iguanas. Smooth-billed Ani in a tree (that species is introduced in the Galápagos). Small rafts of plants by the thousands floating down the Guayas river to the ocean; I learned that they are water hyacinths - it is not clear to me whether they might be related to the rafts of vegetation thought capable of floating out to the Galápagos - on reflection, they probably are not; these water hyacinths are too numerous here, but absent there.

Although we encountered almost no rain in the islands, we heard that it has rained daily since we were last in Guayaquil a week ago. Everything here is very green.

Map of the Islands (from the Emory Law School website)