The Society Islands. Their names alone conjure up images of idyllic beauty. Huahine. Raiatea. Tahaa. Bora Bora. Images of rugged green islands rising from azure lagoons surrounded by a line of white surf pounding on a barrier reef. Of palm trees swaying in the trades, white sand beaches, friendly natives, vibrant coral reefs and reef passes bordered with surf. I spent the last two weeks of July enjoying these mythic isles.
On the sun-filled, calm morning of July 17 I picked up anchor and motored out Tahiti’s Taapuna Pass heading west. The plan was to pass by the south shore of Moorea and if there was no wind I would pull in at Haapiti and surf the fun left for a couple days. However as I skirted Moorea’s southern coast, after reeling in my first (and to date only) fish of the Society Islands (a small skipjack), the wind filled in from the east and I decided to push on for Huahine. I was quick to raise the main and kill the engine, and before long the wind was up to 25 knots out of the east. The swells were a bit confused, coming from both the south and northeast, but with a double-reefed main and a partially-furled jib I was making over six knots and was set to arrive in Huahine at dawn. I spent the night in the cockpit keeping one eye on the blustery wind and another on Sand Dollar, a sailboat that remained less than a mile off my starboard side all night long.
At daybreak I entered the Avapehi Pass on Huahine and before long settled in at the island’s main anchorage inside the Avamoa Pass. It was soon obvious that the six foot swell that was in the water was too east for Huahine’s surfspots, so instead I swam ashore and set about exploring the island. Huahine is a quiet, laid-back island filled with welcoming locals who want to keep their home from becoming an obnoxious tourist destination. I passed my time walking along the white sand beaches of the northwest coast, paddling around the lagoon, and surfing small waves at both the Avamoa and Avapehi Pass (with the right swell, something with a lot of west in it, there are two good rights and a fun left between the two passes).
After a couple days of relaxation and exploration on Huahine I was ready to move on, so I picked up anchor and motored over a glassy sea to Tahaa some thirty miles west. Tahaa is Raiatea’s less-famous little sister. Situated just off her north tip, Tahaa and Raiatea share a single barrier reef. Unlike the rest of the Society Islands it is possible to sail all the way around Tahaa inside the reef in the calm and brilliant waters of its lagoon. I entered the lagoon through the narrow Toahotu Pass on the island’s east shore, passing between two small palm-clad motus and emerging into the deep blue waters of the lagoon. I followed a marked channel around the south side of the island leaving the green sandy shallows to port and the rugged island to starboard. One thing I found in the lagoons of the Society Islands is the water is either more than sixty or less than six feet deep. This makes finding a good anchorage difficult, and I spent two full hours scouring Tahaa’s west coast in search of water less than eighty feet deep to anchor in. After poking my nose into Patii Bay I checked the length of Hurepiti Bay and explored the inlet of Tapuamu Bay, never finding a good place to anchor. On my way back down the west coast of the island I took a long look at the PaiPai Pass and realized there wasn’t enough swell for the left to work properly. As the sun sank low in the sky I gave up hope of finding a decent anchorage and picked up a mooring buoy in Apu Bay.
With the engine shut down I opened a beer and watched the sun slip behind the western horizon as a hermaphrodite brig entered Apu Bay under the power of sails alone. In a rare display of seamanship these days the young captain shouted out orders to his crew of paying passengers and eased his 150-foot-plus ship into place, dropped the hook, and let the wind fill the foretopsail and back the ship on the anchor. It was an impressive showing in an age where most sailors of small ships can’t anchor under sail, let alone a big square-rigger. The ship is from New Zealand and apparently sails around the South Pacific carrying paying passengers who are taught how to sail while stopping at the beautiful islands along the way.
I left Tahaa early the next morning, slipping out of the PaiPai Pass where I was quick to shut down the engine and set sail. A light breeze trickled in from the east-northeast, and since there was still no surf I headed for Bora Bora, perhaps the most famously beautiful island in the world. The wind remained light throughout the morning and I sat in the cockpit enjoying the warm sunshine, reading, writing in my journal, and loving the cruising life. After four hours of slow but steady sailing I arrived at Bora Bora’s lone reef pass with an eight knot breeze still trickling in from the east. Perhaps inspired by the display of seamanship the previous night I decided to keep the engine off and sailed my way in the pass. The rugged, somehow familiar peaks of Bora Bora loomed ahead and the light green shallows and dark brown of the reef lingered on either side as Avventura ghosted up the blue pass and approached the Bora Bora Yacht Club. Just before the anchorage I dropped the main, powered my way into 87 feet of water, and dropped the anchor with all 250 feet of chain out.
Once I deceived myself that the boat was safe with less than 3-to-1 scope (as a rule I always set 5-to-1 scope; more in an unprotected or windy anchorage) I launched the dinghy, grabbed my board, and motored out to the pass. While sailing in the pass a local was stand-up paddling into a left breaking off a finger of reef on the south side of the pass, and I was itching to get in the clear blue waters. The wave was a strange sectioning left with a steep takeoff followed by sections where the wave would hit fingers of deep water in the reef and turn to mush only to later become hollow again. The surf was far from world-class, but the setup was hard to beat. I was the only one out and the familiar green form of the island loomed across the lagoon of green and blue water above a beach of white sand. Sitting in the “lineup” it struck me that nowhere else in nature have I seen such vivid colors. The blues of deeper water, the intense green of the sandy shallows, the sharp browns and purples of the coral reef, the motus of blinding white sand capped by green palms swaying in the trades, and the dark green hulk of the island itself with patches of light, exposed rock reflecting the bright sunlight. The colors alone rank Bora Bora among the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. It was easy to see why it is among the most photographed islands on earth. As the sun reached for the sea I returned to Avventura thrilled by another great day of cruising.
July 22nd brought scattered showers and a 25 knot east wind to Bora Bora. The anchorage at the Bora Bora Yacht Club was shielded from the bulk of the wind, and I was determined to spend the day exploring the island. I headed ashore in the early morning and met the manager of the “yacht club.” He told me they rented bikes, and in minutes I was pedaling north along the coast. After a detour inland into a local neighborhood I circumnavigated the island, enjoying the ever-changing vistas across the greens and blues of the lagoon and up at the drastic island peaks. Near the south end of the island I left the bike beside the road and hiked up to a spot overlooking the lagoon on both sides of the island. It was a truly beautiful place and I only wish I had had a digital camera along to post the pictures. Instead I shot a roll of film to be developed whenever it is I return to San Diego.
After completing the 32 km circumnavigation I returned to the yacht club just in time for an impromptu barbeque at the yacht club. The manager insisted I stay and eat, and served me up a massive helping of grilled chicken, sausage, and breadfruit. The grilled breadfruit was delicious and if you ever find yourself unsure of what to do with the strange veggie just throw it on the grill. As I ate conversations were started between the handful of cruising boats whose crews were ashore. It was quite a diverse gathering with a couple Japanese men, two Norwegian couples, a Canadian single-hander, an American single-hander, and the American couple from Katie Lee. I enjoyed the conversation for a while, but after lunch the sun came out and it was simply too nice a day to spend chatting away. I excused myself, stopped at Avventura to get my board, and returned to the reef pass to try my hand at the left once more. The wind was blowing so hard offshore it made trying to turn almost laughable but I had a good time messing around in the small waves.
Monday morning brought a return of sunshine and clear skies and I decided to head for Raiatea. As soon as the anchor was up I raised the main and shut down the engine, sailing away from Bora Bora and continuing southward. After a few hours of sailing to windward I reached the lee of Raiatea. The wind died so I furled the jib and motored in the Rautoanui Pass on the northwest side of the island. Entering the pass I gazed wide-eyed as perfect left tubes peeled off the reef and a dozen locals dropped into barrel after barrel. I headed straight for the nearest anchorage and set the hook in eighty feet of water inside Pupau Bay. As soon as the anchor was set I returned to the pass in my dinghy and paddled out in the perfect six-foot surf. My first wave I dropped in behind the peak, got a nice little tube, and pulled out just before it closed out on the reef. That proved to be my best wave of the day, though a handful of nice little cover-ups followed as I traded off waves with the friendly locals. Only the setting sun was enough to chase me from the surf, and I reluctantly returned to Avventura to spend the night in my own private anchorage.
Rising early the next morning, I was disappointed to find the swell had dropped. After a short but fun morning session in the small waves I dedicated the remainder of the day to boat work including a trip up the mast to replace a burnt-out light bulb as well as complete a few other minor tasks. The boat work spilled over to the morning of July 25 as I dedicated myself to solving the riddle of the broken bow navigation lights. After a couple hours of toil I was able to rewire the lights and get them working once more, and by late morning I headed to a nearby marina to use the internet feeling good about the day. When I checked the weather forecast for the coming week my mood began to change. East to southeast winds were forecast for the entire week, picking up from 17 knots on July 25th till it would be 25 knots from the 26th till the 30th. I had to be back in Tahiti by the 30th to meet Liz Clark who was flying back from the States with much-needed parts for me before continuing on to her boat, Swell, in the Marquesas. My best hope to return to Tahiti was to leave immediately. Thus began my first windward bashing in the trades…
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Avventura. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Avventura. Mostrar todas las entradas
lunes, 6 de agosto de 2007
miércoles, 16 de mayo de 2007
Magical Marquesas
The Marquesas have been little short of magical. Thousand foot cliffs dive into the ocean as often as beaches dot the Costa Rican coastline. Lush valleys cut into the rugged interior of the islands filled with coco palms, mango trees, banana trees, grapefruit and lime trees, breadfruit trees, and other trees bearing delicious fruits I still don’t know the names of. The trades blow steadily at sea, but most anchorages have been surprisingly well-protected. The air temperature hovers around the mid-eighties while the water is a perfect 83 in the ocean and a delicious low 70s or so in the inland streams. And these lush, stunning islands are inhabited by under 10,000 people in total (or so I’d guess). Even Taiohae, the capital city of the group, has just 2 small grocery stores, 1 bank, 1 police station with a handful of employees, and under 2500 inhabitants. I’ve yet to come across a local who didn’t return a greeting or give a friendly smile, and despite the tragic language barrier the Polynesians still come off as some of the nicest people in the world.
Remote. Dramatic. Stunning. Lush. Warm. Such are the best words I came come upon to describe these islands. Their remoteness has been their greatest blessing, and at times feels like my greatest enemy (only because all communications are via satellite and thus very expensive, including the slow internet connection here). Being 700 miles and a $700 flight from Tahiti has prevented the tourist invasion from reaching these islands. Nature still reigns supreme. The interior of many islands remain inaccessible, the beaches are deserted (partially due to the nonos which tend to terrorize cruisers but frequently leave me alone—I guess I must smell really bad), mangoes fall to the ground to rot, coconuts are swept down gentle streams, packs of wild horses roam freely, and the locals still smile at us voyagers who do pass through.
After our stay on Fatu Hiva and stop in Atuona (where I posted the last blog if memory serves) Avventura called at the island of Tahuata, returned to the northwest coast of Hiva Oa, checked in at Oa Pou, and sailed up here to Nuku Hiva. At every anchorage there has come a time when I think it is perhaps the most beautiful place I have ever visited. Each place has its own striking, unique beauty. On Tahuata it was the calm clear waters of Hanamoenoa Bay with its shimmering white sand beach lined with coco palms and without any inhabitants. Here we snorkeled with a vast array of tropical fish, and once thirst set in we opened coconuts on the beach, squeezed in some fresh lime juice from a tree inland, and quenched our thirst before returning to the inviting waters to cool off once more. The beauty of Hanamenu Bay, Hiva Oa came from stealing dozens of fallen mangoes from the herds of wild horses who fed on them, from bodywhomping the head high waves at a beach nearby, and failing to overcome my fickle fear of heights some twenty-five feet up a thirty-five foot high coco palm. Instead we settled for the milk and meat of freshly-fallen nuts. Here Mike came across our first wild breadfruits and we were introduced to the tasty “Polynesian potatoes.” Here also we savored Trinda’s homemade key lime pie aboard Katie Lee before sailing away in the black of night for a great overnight run to Oa Pou where we arrived in water where I could see rocks on the bottom 95 feet down according to my depth sounder.
Oa Pou saw the crew of Avventura wipe the dust off their surfboards and paddle into a few small lefts at a break right beside the anchorage. We also sought local advice and went on a couple unsuccessful adventures in search of better waves (I’m sure there must be a wave in the last bay on the north end of the windward side of the island, though we never did make it there.). The first wave search was by dinghy to the gorgeous, empty bay just east of the anchorage at Hakaha where we bodywhomped small shorebreak in crystal clear water. The second adventure took us on a hike, and when we apparently took a wrong turn we ended up on the road to the very bay we had visited by dinghy. Instead of returning we hiked up to the cross for a splendid view of the anchorage and town before calling it a day.
A nice daysail brought us to the island of Nuku Hiva where we made landfall in Comptroleur Bay and dropped the hook in the middle finger of the bay where, over a century and a half earlier, Herman Melville deserted the whaling ship Acushnet and lived amongst the locals in the valley of Taipivai. From these experience came Moby Dick and Typee. We anchored well off the small town all by our lonesome and spent just 24 hours exploring the surroundings. We hiked up what is perhaps the most beautiful valley I’ve come across, cut by a large stream and filled with coco palms between two steep sides, and visited our first old Marquesan sacred site. In a grassy clearing in the hills above the valley 3 structures were erected out of lava rocks, all platforms where religious ceremonies must have taken place, and all adorned with tikis, stone carvings of the Marquesans’s gods, and strikingly similar (especially according to Thor Heyerdahl, see Fatu Hiva) to the larger stone figures of Easter Island. Back down at sea level I collected a bottle of sand from both the black sand beach at the base of the bay and a white sand beach half way out the west point where we also collected cowry shells and I saw my first Marquesan wavy-top shells (the only place other than southern California I can remember coming across them).
The past few days we’ve spent anchored off the capital in the bay of Taiohae. The first day I ventured ashore and hiked up the hillside to another Marquesan sacred site before carrying on up a small path, collecting mangoes and breadfruit along the way, and ever winding higher till I reached a glorious view of the bay below. Before long the path connected with the main road and I walked higher till the road began to curve off towards Taipivai and a car came by heading back to Taiohae. I stuck out my thumb and the truck pulled over (I have hitched rides about 7 times in the Marquesas, and have never had a car drive past when I stuck out my thumb. Twice I was picked up without sticking out a thumb. The people are so friendly you don’t think twice about accepting or asking for a ride from a total stranger.) and I hopped in the back, returning to sea level in fifteen minutes after a two hour uphill hike. Since then my time has been mostly spent working on Avventura. I spent a day and a half repairing the mainsail, re-stitching areas where the stitching chafed through on the crossing (my fingers are still numb); learned my tuner is broken beyond the point where I can fix it; changed the fuel and oil filters, and in the process discovered a leak in the engine’s cooling system which I traced to a leaky hose in the back of the ship’s water heater which took nearly 6 hours to diagnose and fix. My to-do list remains long, but it feels like time to move on so tomorrow we’ll weigh anchor and head around the point to Daniel’s Bay where I can knock off a few more items.
The Marquesas have exceeded all of my high expectations, and I have enjoyed my time here thoroughly. The lone drawback seems to be the lack of surf. We have heard there is a wave at Daniel’s Bay and are anxious to see if we find anything; but mostly I look forward to the reef passes of the Tuamotus where there should be waves. The plan is for 3 nights at Daniel’s Bay before making our way down to the Tuamotus (500 miles away), with perhaps a stop first on Oa Pou’s leeward side. Plan is to stop at as many as 6 atolls: Kauehi, Faaite (surf), Fakarava (surf), Apataki (surf), Ahe, and Rangiroa (possibly surf) before heading for Tahiti. I extended my visa today and now have until August 15 before I have to be out of French Polynesia. I plan to use every bit of that time exploring the beauty of these islands. As my SSB Radio will be out of commission till Tahiti at least I cannot guarantee I will be able to keep in touch or even update position reports, but I will do my best. Till then fair winds and following to seas to everybody on the water and Pura Vida.
PS This was written in haste and not spellchecked or re-written, so please accept my apologies for any errors in advance. It’s after 9 p.m. which is late for us “cruisers.”
Remote. Dramatic. Stunning. Lush. Warm. Such are the best words I came come upon to describe these islands. Their remoteness has been their greatest blessing, and at times feels like my greatest enemy (only because all communications are via satellite and thus very expensive, including the slow internet connection here). Being 700 miles and a $700 flight from Tahiti has prevented the tourist invasion from reaching these islands. Nature still reigns supreme. The interior of many islands remain inaccessible, the beaches are deserted (partially due to the nonos which tend to terrorize cruisers but frequently leave me alone—I guess I must smell really bad), mangoes fall to the ground to rot, coconuts are swept down gentle streams, packs of wild horses roam freely, and the locals still smile at us voyagers who do pass through.
After our stay on Fatu Hiva and stop in Atuona (where I posted the last blog if memory serves) Avventura called at the island of Tahuata, returned to the northwest coast of Hiva Oa, checked in at Oa Pou, and sailed up here to Nuku Hiva. At every anchorage there has come a time when I think it is perhaps the most beautiful place I have ever visited. Each place has its own striking, unique beauty. On Tahuata it was the calm clear waters of Hanamoenoa Bay with its shimmering white sand beach lined with coco palms and without any inhabitants. Here we snorkeled with a vast array of tropical fish, and once thirst set in we opened coconuts on the beach, squeezed in some fresh lime juice from a tree inland, and quenched our thirst before returning to the inviting waters to cool off once more. The beauty of Hanamenu Bay, Hiva Oa came from stealing dozens of fallen mangoes from the herds of wild horses who fed on them, from bodywhomping the head high waves at a beach nearby, and failing to overcome my fickle fear of heights some twenty-five feet up a thirty-five foot high coco palm. Instead we settled for the milk and meat of freshly-fallen nuts. Here Mike came across our first wild breadfruits and we were introduced to the tasty “Polynesian potatoes.” Here also we savored Trinda’s homemade key lime pie aboard Katie Lee before sailing away in the black of night for a great overnight run to Oa Pou where we arrived in water where I could see rocks on the bottom 95 feet down according to my depth sounder.
Oa Pou saw the crew of Avventura wipe the dust off their surfboards and paddle into a few small lefts at a break right beside the anchorage. We also sought local advice and went on a couple unsuccessful adventures in search of better waves (I’m sure there must be a wave in the last bay on the north end of the windward side of the island, though we never did make it there.). The first wave search was by dinghy to the gorgeous, empty bay just east of the anchorage at Hakaha where we bodywhomped small shorebreak in crystal clear water. The second adventure took us on a hike, and when we apparently took a wrong turn we ended up on the road to the very bay we had visited by dinghy. Instead of returning we hiked up to the cross for a splendid view of the anchorage and town before calling it a day.
A nice daysail brought us to the island of Nuku Hiva where we made landfall in Comptroleur Bay and dropped the hook in the middle finger of the bay where, over a century and a half earlier, Herman Melville deserted the whaling ship Acushnet and lived amongst the locals in the valley of Taipivai. From these experience came Moby Dick and Typee. We anchored well off the small town all by our lonesome and spent just 24 hours exploring the surroundings. We hiked up what is perhaps the most beautiful valley I’ve come across, cut by a large stream and filled with coco palms between two steep sides, and visited our first old Marquesan sacred site. In a grassy clearing in the hills above the valley 3 structures were erected out of lava rocks, all platforms where religious ceremonies must have taken place, and all adorned with tikis, stone carvings of the Marquesans’s gods, and strikingly similar (especially according to Thor Heyerdahl, see Fatu Hiva) to the larger stone figures of Easter Island. Back down at sea level I collected a bottle of sand from both the black sand beach at the base of the bay and a white sand beach half way out the west point where we also collected cowry shells and I saw my first Marquesan wavy-top shells (the only place other than southern California I can remember coming across them).
The past few days we’ve spent anchored off the capital in the bay of Taiohae. The first day I ventured ashore and hiked up the hillside to another Marquesan sacred site before carrying on up a small path, collecting mangoes and breadfruit along the way, and ever winding higher till I reached a glorious view of the bay below. Before long the path connected with the main road and I walked higher till the road began to curve off towards Taipivai and a car came by heading back to Taiohae. I stuck out my thumb and the truck pulled over (I have hitched rides about 7 times in the Marquesas, and have never had a car drive past when I stuck out my thumb. Twice I was picked up without sticking out a thumb. The people are so friendly you don’t think twice about accepting or asking for a ride from a total stranger.) and I hopped in the back, returning to sea level in fifteen minutes after a two hour uphill hike. Since then my time has been mostly spent working on Avventura. I spent a day and a half repairing the mainsail, re-stitching areas where the stitching chafed through on the crossing (my fingers are still numb); learned my tuner is broken beyond the point where I can fix it; changed the fuel and oil filters, and in the process discovered a leak in the engine’s cooling system which I traced to a leaky hose in the back of the ship’s water heater which took nearly 6 hours to diagnose and fix. My to-do list remains long, but it feels like time to move on so tomorrow we’ll weigh anchor and head around the point to Daniel’s Bay where I can knock off a few more items.
The Marquesas have exceeded all of my high expectations, and I have enjoyed my time here thoroughly. The lone drawback seems to be the lack of surf. We have heard there is a wave at Daniel’s Bay and are anxious to see if we find anything; but mostly I look forward to the reef passes of the Tuamotus where there should be waves. The plan is for 3 nights at Daniel’s Bay before making our way down to the Tuamotus (500 miles away), with perhaps a stop first on Oa Pou’s leeward side. Plan is to stop at as many as 6 atolls: Kauehi, Faaite (surf), Fakarava (surf), Apataki (surf), Ahe, and Rangiroa (possibly surf) before heading for Tahiti. I extended my visa today and now have until August 15 before I have to be out of French Polynesia. I plan to use every bit of that time exploring the beauty of these islands. As my SSB Radio will be out of commission till Tahiti at least I cannot guarantee I will be able to keep in touch or even update position reports, but I will do my best. Till then fair winds and following to seas to everybody on the water and Pura Vida.
PS This was written in haste and not spellchecked or re-written, so please accept my apologies for any errors in advance. It’s after 9 p.m. which is late for us “cruisers.”
jueves, 29 de marzo de 2007
Isla Santa Cruz
Isla San Cristobal and Isla Santa Cruz. Less than forty miles separate them, but they are a world apart. My first impressions of Santa Cruz were far from great, but it has grown on me with time. Upon arrival here (Academy Bay) I was overwhelmed by the size and the touristy nature of the town (Puerto Ayora). Yes, San Cristobal was touristy, but walking down the streets this was never the first thing I noticed. As soon as I ventured ashore in Santa Cruz I felt the touristy atmosphere of the island, and the bigger-city feel of the town and was chased back to Avventura. The next day was no better as the float switch to my automatic bilge pump failed and I had to find a replacement in town and install it, working in the midday heat in nasty bilge water. Since my day was already ruined I tacked on the tedium of oil and fuel filter changes and didn’t even bother to head ashore.
But the earth continued turning and the new day brought much better experiences. Once past the touristy Malecon a different island presented itself. Fleeing the city life, I struck off for Bahia Totuga. A 2.5 km path winds through the vegetation of the region bringing you close to the large cacti which dot the landscape with birds flitting about and lizards spastically darting along the path, ever waiting till the last minute to move out of your way. The midday sun was beating down on the lava-rock path and as we reached the peak of a small hill the ocean beyond came into view beyond a blinding white sand beach. The clarity of the water and the whiteness of the sand provided amazing color contrasts as the seafloor fell away into the deep blue beyond. Tortuga Bay is a gorgeous half moon bay with tucked between two lava points and guarded behind by thick desert vegetation. The sand is a fine powder, and (hard as it is for me to compare the two incomparable places) was reminiscent of that in Gulf Shores, Alabama. The surf offshore was not much better than Gulf Shores either. A fifteen knot breeze swept along the shoreline and the waist high waves gently fell over on themselves; but the beauty of surfing is that none of this matters. I ditched my things on the beach and was quick to paddle out, and as soon as I duckdove the first wave all was right with the world again. The traumas of the previous day were a distant memory as I paddled to the empty lineup, turned shorewards, and admired the beauty of the desolate landscape. A few people were scattered about the long beach, but there were no homes adorning the hillsides and the bustling port was far away.
I was able to sneak into a few fun little waves before abandoning the water and walking the length of the beach, snapping photos as I went. Unfortunately Tortuga Bay is one of those places that cannot be captured in pictures alone. For one thing the beach is too wide and long to be captured in one frame, not to mention the fact that the camera doesn’t pick up the sounds and smells of the wildlife and vegetation, or the feel of the brutal equatorial sun being dampened by a breeze off the Humboldt-chilled water. I passed the afternoon reading the Autobiography of Charles Darwin on a gorgeous beach in the Enchanted Isles he made so famous and felt somehow close to the great naturalist.
As the sideshore wind continued for a second day I made my way to the “Charles Darwin Research Station” and spent a morning walking around the place. The Research Station is used to breed and raise baby tortoises and land iguanas which are then taken back to their native islands after they have reached a certain size. There are pens enclosing hordes of tiny tortoises separated into the island they came from, then there’s a communal cage where the tortoises are transferred after a couple years to learn to exist in more natural surroundings, after which they are returned to their native islands usually. There are a few exceptions. The next stop on the trail, for instance, brought me to the pen of “Lonesome George.” George is the last remaining member of the subspecies of tortoises from Isla Pinta and he was brought to the research center in the late 1970s in the hopes of finding him a suitable mate and either continuing his same species, or at least creating a new bloodline in close relation to the species. The problem is they have yet to find a female from the Pinta subspecies and George refuses to adulterate his blood. He spends his days in a pen with two female tortoises from a species closely related to him, but he refuses to mate with any tortoise outside his specie, and thus the Pinta subspecie appears doomed as George grows old.
After paying my respects to “Lonesome George” I walked through separate pens enclosing first female tortoises and then their gigantic male counterparts. It still surprises me how archaic the animals look. Looking into the eyes of the tortoise is like looking back to an era long past when reptiles ruled the earth. After the tortoises came the few land iguanas on display—massive iguanas of a reddish hue who were highly inactive and completely unconcerned with me.
Other than the Darwin Research Station all I wanted to see on Santa Cruz were the tourist sites up in the highlands. The opportunity arose on March 27th and Mike and I jumped at it. It all started the night before when Mike met a girl in a bar and the next morning we were headed ashore to do some kind of painting up in the highlands. All I knew was that it was my way up the hill. It turns out we were helping Galapagos ICE (www.galapagosice.org), a non-profit outfit, who was painting the inside of a school in the highland town of Santa Rosa. So we spent a couple hours throwing some fresh paint on a rundown school that needed a lot more than a superficial facelift, working alongside a dozen locals. I had a good time chatting with the locals and experienced the Ecuadorian work ethic firsthand. At one point I was painting a room with five locals when a man came in and said there were sandwiches for lunch. Immediately, almost in mid-stroke the locals cleared out of the room and went to lunch. Afterwards they lingered, did a bit more painting, and abandoned the endeavor in favor of a pick-up game of soccer on the basketball court of the school. Since the teams were uneven I somehow got dragged into the game and quickly realized my lack of any soccer skills; but in the end I didn’t hurt my team and we took the game 3-0.
In the early afternoon the painting was done and Mike and I along with Jill (the girl who roped Mike into the gig) and Ian from Afriki, were driven down to the Lava Tunnel. Our driver (a fellow painter) had called ahead and we were let in the tunnel for free, and descended into the center of the earth as it felt from the wrong direction, fighting against the flow of the pasty white tourists as we crawled through the low section of the tunnel and emerged into a massive lava tube. The tube was formed when the outer skin of the lava cooled first and the molten inside continued downhill, in the end forming a near-perfect tube that extended for a couple hundred yards before emerging into daylight once more.
After our stroll through the earth we were taken down to a local ranch where there are trails cut through the landscape and you can see tortoises in their natural habitat. Our luck was fairly good and we came across three gigantic tortoises, both hunkered in the bushes and strolling out in the open. It was a neat hike through the highland semi-forest, and after an hour of searching and nearly getting ourselves lost we returned to the entrance and were driven back down to sea level and left in Puerto Ayora. A little bit of work got us a lunch and visits to the tourist sites of the highlands as well as allowing us to meet the locals of the town and observe the Ecuadorians at work. It was a nice day.
All things considered Santa Cruz is nothing like San Cristobal, but has proven to be a wonderful stop on the continuing voyage. From here we will head south to Isla Santa Maria (Floreana) for a few days followed by a handful of days at Isla Isabella from whence we will take our leave for the Marquesas. The voyage is starting to move along and the sea is calling me back. I’m excited for the long passage which waits in the wings, and even more so to be heading for the south sea islands of many a man’s childhood dreams.
Pura Vida,
Scott Atkins
PS For the moment the “real world” has struck and I’m stuck in Santa Cruz at least another day trying to deal with the incompetence of modern man, but with a little luck the voyage will be moving on again soon.
But the earth continued turning and the new day brought much better experiences. Once past the touristy Malecon a different island presented itself. Fleeing the city life, I struck off for Bahia Totuga. A 2.5 km path winds through the vegetation of the region bringing you close to the large cacti which dot the landscape with birds flitting about and lizards spastically darting along the path, ever waiting till the last minute to move out of your way. The midday sun was beating down on the lava-rock path and as we reached the peak of a small hill the ocean beyond came into view beyond a blinding white sand beach. The clarity of the water and the whiteness of the sand provided amazing color contrasts as the seafloor fell away into the deep blue beyond. Tortuga Bay is a gorgeous half moon bay with tucked between two lava points and guarded behind by thick desert vegetation. The sand is a fine powder, and (hard as it is for me to compare the two incomparable places) was reminiscent of that in Gulf Shores, Alabama. The surf offshore was not much better than Gulf Shores either. A fifteen knot breeze swept along the shoreline and the waist high waves gently fell over on themselves; but the beauty of surfing is that none of this matters. I ditched my things on the beach and was quick to paddle out, and as soon as I duckdove the first wave all was right with the world again. The traumas of the previous day were a distant memory as I paddled to the empty lineup, turned shorewards, and admired the beauty of the desolate landscape. A few people were scattered about the long beach, but there were no homes adorning the hillsides and the bustling port was far away.
I was able to sneak into a few fun little waves before abandoning the water and walking the length of the beach, snapping photos as I went. Unfortunately Tortuga Bay is one of those places that cannot be captured in pictures alone. For one thing the beach is too wide and long to be captured in one frame, not to mention the fact that the camera doesn’t pick up the sounds and smells of the wildlife and vegetation, or the feel of the brutal equatorial sun being dampened by a breeze off the Humboldt-chilled water. I passed the afternoon reading the Autobiography of Charles Darwin on a gorgeous beach in the Enchanted Isles he made so famous and felt somehow close to the great naturalist.
As the sideshore wind continued for a second day I made my way to the “Charles Darwin Research Station” and spent a morning walking around the place. The Research Station is used to breed and raise baby tortoises and land iguanas which are then taken back to their native islands after they have reached a certain size. There are pens enclosing hordes of tiny tortoises separated into the island they came from, then there’s a communal cage where the tortoises are transferred after a couple years to learn to exist in more natural surroundings, after which they are returned to their native islands usually. There are a few exceptions. The next stop on the trail, for instance, brought me to the pen of “Lonesome George.” George is the last remaining member of the subspecies of tortoises from Isla Pinta and he was brought to the research center in the late 1970s in the hopes of finding him a suitable mate and either continuing his same species, or at least creating a new bloodline in close relation to the species. The problem is they have yet to find a female from the Pinta subspecies and George refuses to adulterate his blood. He spends his days in a pen with two female tortoises from a species closely related to him, but he refuses to mate with any tortoise outside his specie, and thus the Pinta subspecie appears doomed as George grows old.
After paying my respects to “Lonesome George” I walked through separate pens enclosing first female tortoises and then their gigantic male counterparts. It still surprises me how archaic the animals look. Looking into the eyes of the tortoise is like looking back to an era long past when reptiles ruled the earth. After the tortoises came the few land iguanas on display—massive iguanas of a reddish hue who were highly inactive and completely unconcerned with me.
Other than the Darwin Research Station all I wanted to see on Santa Cruz were the tourist sites up in the highlands. The opportunity arose on March 27th and Mike and I jumped at it. It all started the night before when Mike met a girl in a bar and the next morning we were headed ashore to do some kind of painting up in the highlands. All I knew was that it was my way up the hill. It turns out we were helping Galapagos ICE (www.galapagosice.org), a non-profit outfit, who was painting the inside of a school in the highland town of Santa Rosa. So we spent a couple hours throwing some fresh paint on a rundown school that needed a lot more than a superficial facelift, working alongside a dozen locals. I had a good time chatting with the locals and experienced the Ecuadorian work ethic firsthand. At one point I was painting a room with five locals when a man came in and said there were sandwiches for lunch. Immediately, almost in mid-stroke the locals cleared out of the room and went to lunch. Afterwards they lingered, did a bit more painting, and abandoned the endeavor in favor of a pick-up game of soccer on the basketball court of the school. Since the teams were uneven I somehow got dragged into the game and quickly realized my lack of any soccer skills; but in the end I didn’t hurt my team and we took the game 3-0.
In the early afternoon the painting was done and Mike and I along with Jill (the girl who roped Mike into the gig) and Ian from Afriki, were driven down to the Lava Tunnel. Our driver (a fellow painter) had called ahead and we were let in the tunnel for free, and descended into the center of the earth as it felt from the wrong direction, fighting against the flow of the pasty white tourists as we crawled through the low section of the tunnel and emerged into a massive lava tube. The tube was formed when the outer skin of the lava cooled first and the molten inside continued downhill, in the end forming a near-perfect tube that extended for a couple hundred yards before emerging into daylight once more.
After our stroll through the earth we were taken down to a local ranch where there are trails cut through the landscape and you can see tortoises in their natural habitat. Our luck was fairly good and we came across three gigantic tortoises, both hunkered in the bushes and strolling out in the open. It was a neat hike through the highland semi-forest, and after an hour of searching and nearly getting ourselves lost we returned to the entrance and were driven back down to sea level and left in Puerto Ayora. A little bit of work got us a lunch and visits to the tourist sites of the highlands as well as allowing us to meet the locals of the town and observe the Ecuadorians at work. It was a nice day.
All things considered Santa Cruz is nothing like San Cristobal, but has proven to be a wonderful stop on the continuing voyage. From here we will head south to Isla Santa Maria (Floreana) for a few days followed by a handful of days at Isla Isabella from whence we will take our leave for the Marquesas. The voyage is starting to move along and the sea is calling me back. I’m excited for the long passage which waits in the wings, and even more so to be heading for the south sea islands of many a man’s childhood dreams.
Pura Vida,
Scott Atkins
PS For the moment the “real world” has struck and I’m stuck in Santa Cruz at least another day trying to deal with the incompetence of modern man, but with a little luck the voyage will be moving on again soon.
jueves, 8 de marzo de 2007
Wreck Bay Heaven
I´ve now been anchored in Wreck Bay for going on 17 days and am in no hurry to move on. The anchorage is among the most beautiful I have come across with sapphire water and unobstructed views to the sea floor 30 feet beneath "Avventura´s" hull. The water is so clear that on one moonlit night while returning from dinner ashore you could see the entire hull six feet underwater in the dim moonlight shining through a thin layer of clouds. The cruisers I´ve met here are as nice as any I´ve come across and as varied a lot as you´ll find (boats from South Africa, New Zealand, Canada, France, Germany, to name a few)--most in transit to the Marquesas and points further west.
The bulk of my time has been spent surfing, reading, writing, and relaxing with some boat work thrown in for good measure. The surf here has been a pleasant surprise with its consistency, size and shape all exceeding what I had been expecting. Just yesterday I surfed 4 different spots for a total of 7 hours. The surf was 6 foot, a mix of southwest and north swell that turned on every spot on the island. After a morning session with the Kiwi Nick off "Pina Colada" at Canons Mike and I took the dinghy up the coast with the South African trio of surfers off "Robyn´s Nest" to the Manglacito where we surfed six foot perfect, fast lefts without another soul in sight. The wave broke off a desolate stretch of coast covered in green vegetation climbing the barren hillsides towards the blue skies above. The wind was slightly offshore and there was a hook in the reef where you were guaranteed a chance at a tube. One of the South Africans, Dave, a sixteen year old, is a good surfer and was pulling into impossible tubes and somehow coming out, though he did take a couple hard wipeouts. When the "Wavehunters" boat arrived with a dozen surfers we started making our way back to Wreck Bay, stopping at Isla Lobos where I had previously snorkeled with Sea Lions. This time we surfed a little hollow lefthander breaking directly off an islet of jagged rocks. If you fell on the takeoff you´d become ground-up seal bait, but we all made the drops and got a dozen fun and fast waves before calling it an afternoon and returning to Wreck Bay. Once back at the Bay I said good-bye to Nick and Patti on "Pina Colada" (we had become pretty good friends and they were sailed for the Marquesas yesterday afternoon) and I capped off a day of surfing with a stop at the hollow, shallow left of Tongo Reef where I surfed for an hour by myself and another 30 minutes with one local on consitent and fun overhead surf.
The Galapagos has lived up to an exceeded all my expectations thus far and I´ve yet to sail past the first island (San Cristobal). I am taking my time here because I have been warned that this both will probably be my favorite anchorage and that it is very difficult to fight the wind and current to return here. Thus the plan is for another couple weeks here before moving on to the other 3 or 4 anchorages I am allowed to visit in the islands. Tentative date for departure for the Marquesas is April 15, wind, weather and fun permitting. I am uploading pictures to my site (www.flickr.com/photos/avventura) as I type, but it is a slow connection so I don´t know how many of the 75 will make it on there, but it should be enough to give you a flavor of my last month of travels. Sorry for the lack of updates but internet here is slow and unreliable...More when I can.
Pura Vida!
The bulk of my time has been spent surfing, reading, writing, and relaxing with some boat work thrown in for good measure. The surf here has been a pleasant surprise with its consistency, size and shape all exceeding what I had been expecting. Just yesterday I surfed 4 different spots for a total of 7 hours. The surf was 6 foot, a mix of southwest and north swell that turned on every spot on the island. After a morning session with the Kiwi Nick off "Pina Colada" at Canons Mike and I took the dinghy up the coast with the South African trio of surfers off "Robyn´s Nest" to the Manglacito where we surfed six foot perfect, fast lefts without another soul in sight. The wave broke off a desolate stretch of coast covered in green vegetation climbing the barren hillsides towards the blue skies above. The wind was slightly offshore and there was a hook in the reef where you were guaranteed a chance at a tube. One of the South Africans, Dave, a sixteen year old, is a good surfer and was pulling into impossible tubes and somehow coming out, though he did take a couple hard wipeouts. When the "Wavehunters" boat arrived with a dozen surfers we started making our way back to Wreck Bay, stopping at Isla Lobos where I had previously snorkeled with Sea Lions. This time we surfed a little hollow lefthander breaking directly off an islet of jagged rocks. If you fell on the takeoff you´d become ground-up seal bait, but we all made the drops and got a dozen fun and fast waves before calling it an afternoon and returning to Wreck Bay. Once back at the Bay I said good-bye to Nick and Patti on "Pina Colada" (we had become pretty good friends and they were sailed for the Marquesas yesterday afternoon) and I capped off a day of surfing with a stop at the hollow, shallow left of Tongo Reef where I surfed for an hour by myself and another 30 minutes with one local on consitent and fun overhead surf.
The Galapagos has lived up to an exceeded all my expectations thus far and I´ve yet to sail past the first island (San Cristobal). I am taking my time here because I have been warned that this both will probably be my favorite anchorage and that it is very difficult to fight the wind and current to return here. Thus the plan is for another couple weeks here before moving on to the other 3 or 4 anchorages I am allowed to visit in the islands. Tentative date for departure for the Marquesas is April 15, wind, weather and fun permitting. I am uploading pictures to my site (www.flickr.com/photos/avventura) as I type, but it is a slow connection so I don´t know how many of the 75 will make it on there, but it should be enough to give you a flavor of my last month of travels. Sorry for the lack of updates but internet here is slow and unreliable...More when I can.
Pura Vida!
jueves, 1 de marzo de 2007
Isla San Cristobal, Galapagos
Heaven on earth. That’s the only short way to explain my experiences in the Galapagos thus far. It’s been non-stop action and activity since arriving here, so much so that this is my first time using the internet since arriving on Tuesday, February 20. So now let me go back…
After far too long on-the-hard in Puerto Lucia Avventura was dropped into the water around 1300 on February 15. After spending a couple hours at the fuel dock re-attaching the jibstay and taking care of other minor tasks Mike and I departed La Libertad at 1500 and motored westward. Unfortunately the wind began on the nose and soon died, not to return for 3 days. On Sunday a light breeze picked up from the east-northeast and I set the main and poled the jib out to windward, sailing Avventura wing-on-wing for the first time since I’ve had her, making 4.5 knots with just 8 knots of wind, but a 1.5 knot current which helped us the entire way to the Galapagos. It was a great feeling to be sailing once more, sailing away from the worries of land and the hectic rush to get the boat ready for the crossing with all the problems that entailed; but alas, it was not to last. By sunset the wind had died and the sails were spilling their air with great regularity so it was back to motoring for the night. In all we sailed just 12 hours on the crossing and used 55 gallons of diesel (thankfully it’s only $1.02/gal here) from La Libertad to Wreck Bay where we arrived in the morning hours of February 20.
On approach I could already tell I would fall in love with Isla San Cristobal. The water was as clear as I have seen it, and when I dropped the anchor you could see it hit the sand and a school of fish swarmed around the boat as I backed down. Shortly after the hook was set and Eagle Ray swam above the anchor chain some thirty feet down, and seals circled the boat looking for a perch to rest on (luckily we don’t have one, unlike the handful of catamerans here where the sea lions are able to climb up onto their swim steps and rest). By the afternoon I had attempted to check us in only to be told to return manana, and after a brief rest it was time to surf. Now up for launching the dinghy, and doubtful that there would be any surf, I retrieved my 7’ 2” and paddled across Wreck Bay to the south point off the Navy Base where a left point break forms off the rocky coast (el Canyon, or Canons—I’m not sure which). I was surprised to find the surf head high and extremely fun. I hadn’t brought a leash, but luckily I was able to hang on to my board.
Water clarity amazing. Wildlife stunning. Seals everywhere, but in a comical way, not annoying. And even some fun surf. While surfing I met a fellow-cruiser, Nick, a Kiwi on Pina Colada who we’ve been surfing with ever since.
Now before this gets long I will shorten the rest so I can get back to exploring the island. Have taken two tours on the island. The first was a land tour where we first stopped at the volcano atop the island. Inside its crater there’s a freshwater lake, and from the rim there are 360 degree stunning views of the surprisingly green island. From the crater we drove down to a breeding site for Galapagos tortoises and saw a dozen scattered around a neat little trail which brought you up close with the landscape of the island--lava and hard soil with hardy light-green vegetation, many of which have small flowers and are home to numerous birds. Tortoises are the most archaic looking creature I've ever seen. Even more so than iguanas. Relics from an era long past. Then went up to another beautiful lookout over the island, La Soledad, overlooking the west side of the island. The clarity of the water makes the coastline look amazing with its offshore reefs and color variations. Once back at the boat I went surfing at Canons once again with Nick. Caught 4 fun waves before it shut down with the high tide. It was a nice way to end a great day. Mike and I then capped off the day with a dinner ashore with Nick and his wife and the folks on Dream Weaver (who we met in Costa Rica and Panama). It was an amazing day.
The next morning Mike and I joined Nick and his wife and took a taxi with our boards to the southwest coast of the island--a beach called la Loberia. The entire south shore of the island is covered in light green vegetation clinging to the volcanic hillsides. The trail down to the beach wound along the rocky shoreline with a beautiful contrast in the round black lava rocks and the deep blue of the sea. After a short walk we arrived at a perfect half moon bay--perhaps the ideal beach. The white sand was fringed by vegetation on one side and a light green sea on the other. The inner waters of the bay are shallow and calm, being protected by an outcropping of rocks which chop the bay in half. Beyond the rocks lies the surfspot, a steep, hollow A-Frame wave that is fast, but provides short rides before you have to pull out in front of the exposed rocks. The surf was 6 foot and consistent and I got plenty of amazing waves; but the location was even better. Sitting in the lineup and looking ashore to a gorgeous beach--the only white break in an expanse of sharp blacks and greens beneath the blue sky, and no signs of human habitation (excepting the 15 people in the water and 15 on the beach). After surfing a couple hours (the water was noticeably cooler, at least 5 degrees, on the south side of the island) we walked back to town, using the airstrip as a shortcut (imagine doing that in the States these days). In the afternoon we took our dinghies (Mike and I, and Nick) around the south point of Wreck Bay and down the coast to Tonga Reef, a shallow left point break with fast, hollow waves that lead into a lava rock shoreline. I had some amazing rides including a couple nice tubes, though the surf was half the size of the morning, and had a blast.
In the Galapagos you are only able to anchor in 5 designated ports, and can't travel freely about, so tours are the only way to see the islands. So yesterday, February 24, Mike and I took a snorkeling trip to Kicker Rock. We took a panga with Dream Weaver, and the crew of Asylum out to Kicker Rock, a little islet a half mile offshore or so and a handful of miles from Wreck Bay. It was the perfect day for it with little wind and plenty of sunshine. At Kicker Rock there is a big islet and a smaller islet detached by about 30 feet with depths over 50 feet between them. We snorkeled in the gap and around the small islet. In the gap four to six foot white-tipped reef sharks and "Galapagos Sharks" were swimming around along with Eagle Rays and a couple Sea Turtles along with plenty of fish. It was the first time I've snorkeled with sharks and I was able to get a few pictures with my digital camera which I will post when I can. On the sunny side of the small islet the life forms growing on its steep walls and the fish circling made for great snorkeling. Sealife was plentiful and the water was crystal clear. After Kicker Rock we returned to the mainland and Isla Lobos, an island detached by a short channel with sea lions everywhere. Here I swam with the baby sea lions and snorkeled a bit more. The sea lions were quite playful and surprisingly not scared of humans or aggressive in the least. I also saw my first marine iguanas here, though I never saw one actually in the water. In the afternoon we surfed some small waves before falling asleep early.
This morning we surfed La Loberia and had some fun, though small waves. The weather here is amazing. 85 degrees, sunny and warm. Water 81 and crystal clear. No rain yet, though this is the rainy season. Will be in the Galapagos for up to two months in the 5 ports we are allowed to visit. I won’t be checking e-mail very often here, but will reply to everyone when I can.
After far too long on-the-hard in Puerto Lucia Avventura was dropped into the water around 1300 on February 15. After spending a couple hours at the fuel dock re-attaching the jibstay and taking care of other minor tasks Mike and I departed La Libertad at 1500 and motored westward. Unfortunately the wind began on the nose and soon died, not to return for 3 days. On Sunday a light breeze picked up from the east-northeast and I set the main and poled the jib out to windward, sailing Avventura wing-on-wing for the first time since I’ve had her, making 4.5 knots with just 8 knots of wind, but a 1.5 knot current which helped us the entire way to the Galapagos. It was a great feeling to be sailing once more, sailing away from the worries of land and the hectic rush to get the boat ready for the crossing with all the problems that entailed; but alas, it was not to last. By sunset the wind had died and the sails were spilling their air with great regularity so it was back to motoring for the night. In all we sailed just 12 hours on the crossing and used 55 gallons of diesel (thankfully it’s only $1.02/gal here) from La Libertad to Wreck Bay where we arrived in the morning hours of February 20.
On approach I could already tell I would fall in love with Isla San Cristobal. The water was as clear as I have seen it, and when I dropped the anchor you could see it hit the sand and a school of fish swarmed around the boat as I backed down. Shortly after the hook was set and Eagle Ray swam above the anchor chain some thirty feet down, and seals circled the boat looking for a perch to rest on (luckily we don’t have one, unlike the handful of catamerans here where the sea lions are able to climb up onto their swim steps and rest). By the afternoon I had attempted to check us in only to be told to return manana, and after a brief rest it was time to surf. Now up for launching the dinghy, and doubtful that there would be any surf, I retrieved my 7’ 2” and paddled across Wreck Bay to the south point off the Navy Base where a left point break forms off the rocky coast (el Canyon, or Canons—I’m not sure which). I was surprised to find the surf head high and extremely fun. I hadn’t brought a leash, but luckily I was able to hang on to my board.
Water clarity amazing. Wildlife stunning. Seals everywhere, but in a comical way, not annoying. And even some fun surf. While surfing I met a fellow-cruiser, Nick, a Kiwi on Pina Colada who we’ve been surfing with ever since.
Now before this gets long I will shorten the rest so I can get back to exploring the island. Have taken two tours on the island. The first was a land tour where we first stopped at the volcano atop the island. Inside its crater there’s a freshwater lake, and from the rim there are 360 degree stunning views of the surprisingly green island. From the crater we drove down to a breeding site for Galapagos tortoises and saw a dozen scattered around a neat little trail which brought you up close with the landscape of the island--lava and hard soil with hardy light-green vegetation, many of which have small flowers and are home to numerous birds. Tortoises are the most archaic looking creature I've ever seen. Even more so than iguanas. Relics from an era long past. Then went up to another beautiful lookout over the island, La Soledad, overlooking the west side of the island. The clarity of the water makes the coastline look amazing with its offshore reefs and color variations. Once back at the boat I went surfing at Canons once again with Nick. Caught 4 fun waves before it shut down with the high tide. It was a nice way to end a great day. Mike and I then capped off the day with a dinner ashore with Nick and his wife and the folks on Dream Weaver (who we met in Costa Rica and Panama). It was an amazing day.
The next morning Mike and I joined Nick and his wife and took a taxi with our boards to the southwest coast of the island--a beach called la Loberia. The entire south shore of the island is covered in light green vegetation clinging to the volcanic hillsides. The trail down to the beach wound along the rocky shoreline with a beautiful contrast in the round black lava rocks and the deep blue of the sea. After a short walk we arrived at a perfect half moon bay--perhaps the ideal beach. The white sand was fringed by vegetation on one side and a light green sea on the other. The inner waters of the bay are shallow and calm, being protected by an outcropping of rocks which chop the bay in half. Beyond the rocks lies the surfspot, a steep, hollow A-Frame wave that is fast, but provides short rides before you have to pull out in front of the exposed rocks. The surf was 6 foot and consistent and I got plenty of amazing waves; but the location was even better. Sitting in the lineup and looking ashore to a gorgeous beach--the only white break in an expanse of sharp blacks and greens beneath the blue sky, and no signs of human habitation (excepting the 15 people in the water and 15 on the beach). After surfing a couple hours (the water was noticeably cooler, at least 5 degrees, on the south side of the island) we walked back to town, using the airstrip as a shortcut (imagine doing that in the States these days). In the afternoon we took our dinghies (Mike and I, and Nick) around the south point of Wreck Bay and down the coast to Tonga Reef, a shallow left point break with fast, hollow waves that lead into a lava rock shoreline. I had some amazing rides including a couple nice tubes, though the surf was half the size of the morning, and had a blast.
In the Galapagos you are only able to anchor in 5 designated ports, and can't travel freely about, so tours are the only way to see the islands. So yesterday, February 24, Mike and I took a snorkeling trip to Kicker Rock. We took a panga with Dream Weaver, and the crew of Asylum out to Kicker Rock, a little islet a half mile offshore or so and a handful of miles from Wreck Bay. It was the perfect day for it with little wind and plenty of sunshine. At Kicker Rock there is a big islet and a smaller islet detached by about 30 feet with depths over 50 feet between them. We snorkeled in the gap and around the small islet. In the gap four to six foot white-tipped reef sharks and "Galapagos Sharks" were swimming around along with Eagle Rays and a couple Sea Turtles along with plenty of fish. It was the first time I've snorkeled with sharks and I was able to get a few pictures with my digital camera which I will post when I can. On the sunny side of the small islet the life forms growing on its steep walls and the fish circling made for great snorkeling. Sealife was plentiful and the water was crystal clear. After Kicker Rock we returned to the mainland and Isla Lobos, an island detached by a short channel with sea lions everywhere. Here I swam with the baby sea lions and snorkeled a bit more. The sea lions were quite playful and surprisingly not scared of humans or aggressive in the least. I also saw my first marine iguanas here, though I never saw one actually in the water. In the afternoon we surfed some small waves before falling asleep early.
This morning we surfed La Loberia and had some fun, though small waves. The weather here is amazing. 85 degrees, sunny and warm. Water 81 and crystal clear. No rain yet, though this is the rainy season. Will be in the Galapagos for up to two months in the 5 ports we are allowed to visit. I won’t be checking e-mail very often here, but will reply to everyone when I can.
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