Galapagos: Part III
Santiago Island and our second snorkeling adventure.
Feb 17, 2022:
Early morning light.
There wasn’t much of a sunrise. Clouds clustered on the horizon, obscuring the view. Taylor was up early and I caught her on an upper deck cradling a mug of coffee as I lounged on the main. Above us, frigate birds flitted to and fro, flying from one nearby island to the next.
The wake up call was past six, and we were some of the first passengers to awake. We watched as couples trickled in for breakfast, pouring themselves cups of coffee and assessing where to sit.
Our first activity for the day was to be a wet landing followed by a hike on Santiago Island. We were advised to bring closed-toed shoes as we’d be walking along past lava flows; the AA and rope lava had left uneven surfaces and sharp edges.
Santiago Island.
On landing, I remarked that this island was even more beautiful than the last. Roberto overheard me and said that each island was special in its own way. A rock outcropping weathered by the elements to the right of our landing reminded me of Tanah Lot. My mind cast back to my first extended overseas trip: a six-month backpacking tour of Southeast Asia.
I longed to get closer and I looked over at Roberto. He told me to be careful and to avoid the rocks; they were very slippery when wet. I nodded and stepped carefully. Red crabs scattered away as I approached and the sea lions that had been basking on the shelves in the rock came into focus.
Roberto lead us closer to the rocks and the sea lions, stepping lightly amongst the wet rocks. Iguana tracks crossed the beach, and I took a moment to admire them before we covered them with ours.
Roberto let us explore the area at our leisure, hanging back to let us admire the sea lions and the red sally-footed crabs that dotted the black rocks. In the distance, our ship silently watched over our progress.
On leaving the beach.
Roberto pointed out a hawk and a yellow warbler roosting nearby as we turned to head inland. A marine iguana sat almost perfectly camouflaged against the sand and rock. A sea lion sat on a ledge right by the path, warming itself in the sun. As we passed, it raised itself to give us the side eye.
Inland empire.
Roberto lead us across the island and towards the lava flows on the far side from where we had landed. He pointed out the remnants of structures that had been built on the island, explaining that companies had been set up to extract salt from the Salt Mine Crater. A small group of people had also tried to colonize the island, unsuccessfully. But the efforts remained in the sight of Caterpillar tracks in the rock, and the foundations of former buildings rising out of the earth.
When we arrived at the lava flows, Roberto slowed his pace, pointing out iguana in our path before we stepped on them, so well did they blend in with their surroundings. Ingrid looked at their faces and likened them to White Walkers.
At one point he sat on the rocks above a pool of water. Directly in front of him two yellow-crowned night heron showed off to each other while an iguana perched above them. When I saw them I exclaimed and pointed at them. Roberto looked at me and deadpanned “That’s why I’m sitting here.”
Snorkeling with a sea lion.
As we re-boarded the Grace we were told we had 15 minutes to prepare for our next excursion. I decided to leave my camera on the boat. The housing I had purchased was bulky and I wasn’t sure about the photos I had taken the day before. I also decided to experience snorkeling one time without being burdened.
Shortly after we had slid into the water, Taylor had an issue with her snorkel. We swam back to the panga in order to have one of the guides look at her snorkel. I tread water close by and Taylor turned and then pointed excitedly just to my right. I could hear breathing next to me and I turned to see a sea lion staring me right in the face. I let myself sink into the water and watched as it swam around me, swimming directly at me before turning away at the last second.
Buccaneer’s cove, a monk, and a wager.
We lunched aboard the ship as it weighed anchor and set sail for Buccaneer’s Cove. We lounged on the decks as we sailed, watching the sea and the waves and the horizon as it rose and fell along with the swells.
After dropping anchor at our destination, the crew lowered the kayaks into the water. Monica told us be on the lookout for the praying monk rock formation as we made our way around the cove and waved us on. As Taylor and I paddled alongside the shore, I said that the sea caves were perfect places for One-Eyed Pete to hide his treasures. Taylor asked me who that was and I told her it was the pirate in The Goonies. The landscape had reminded me of the film and of the characters.
“I don’t think that’s the pirate’s name,” she said. “It was something like One-Eyed Jack.”
I was adamant that it was not; One-Eyed Jack seemed too cliché even for a movie aimed at a younger audience. And so we made a bet. I bet the trip’s drinks tab that the pirate’s name was One-Eyed Pete. Taylor offered me an out, that she would bet that it was Jack, but I was so certain I said I would bet that the name was Pete alone.
We shook on it, and decided that we would wait until the end of the trip to Google the name. Minutes later the name hit me like a thunderclap from the skies. “It’s One-Eyed Willie,” I said. Taylor crowed.
Day’s end.
After the briefing and dinner and after most of the passengers had gone to bed, I stepped back out onto the stern of the boat. Carlos and Roberto had been up chatting. Roberto handed me a pair of binoculars and pointed off the starboard side at a bright red light on the horizon lighting up the cloud above it. It was the lava flow coming off of the Wolf volcano, which had erupted the month before. I went below decks to see if Taylor was awake to show her, but she was fast asleep. 🌋
