Pta. Vicente Roca, Isabela Island & Fernandina
I tell people all the time, “Learn how to snorkel before coming to the islands.” It makes a difference. Another world will open up for you.
Today was fabulous for everyone, whether a snorkeler or not. We woke up north of Isabela Island, above the “seahorse head,” in calm, empty waters. There were hopes of marine life sightings and all, but breakfast arrived with little to disturb the ocean surface. However, once we crossed the equator line, chaos ensued. At least 500, if not more, common dolphins erupted nearby, several Brydes’s whales put in brief appearances, and some mysterious toothed whales appeared near shore. Perhaps Risso’s dolphins, or perhaps Cuvier’s beaked whales. Unfortunately they were too far away to identify, and surfaced for too brief a moment, but were definitely a mother and calf, whatever their species.
Once we were in Zodiacs and out to sea, ocean sunfish, Bryde’s whales, Galápagos penguins, East Pacific green sea turtles, flightless cormorants and Galápagos marine iguanas all put in appearances. A few saw the electric blue of a marlin.
I think the water temperature has changed. The seasons are changing to warm, humid and wet. Finally; it’s late.
The last hour before lunch was used by snorkelers to see what could be seen underwater off the point at Vicente Roca, Isabela Island. Visibility is chancy at best here, but today was outstanding. East Pacific marine turtles were everywhere, grazing, sleeping, and hanging out in time and space. A flightless cormorant zoomed by, a marine iguana slept (yes, slept), underwater with its nose against a rock, one arm lightly attached to a rock, against a soft bed of green algae. A spotted eagle ray cruised past while a fur seal looked google-eyed at me.
The afternoon was a “typical” day on Pta. Espinoza, Fernandina Island; in other words, spectacular. Marine iguanas were spread out all over, large males defending territorial rights, females either responding (by running away) or not, Galápagos sea lions sleeping, or being young and harassing each other because there was nothing more fun to do than bother your friend. A hawk perched on a bleached bit of driftwood next to the trail. We had to take off shoes to ford a high-water patch to reach the Zodiacs on return.
Few words are available to express adequately what it feels like to spend two hours in a place where life goes on exactly as it has for the last few million years, unchanged by mankind.
I tell people all the time, “Learn how to snorkel before coming to the islands.” It makes a difference. Another world will open up for you.
Today was fabulous for everyone, whether a snorkeler or not. We woke up north of Isabela Island, above the “seahorse head,” in calm, empty waters. There were hopes of marine life sightings and all, but breakfast arrived with little to disturb the ocean surface. However, once we crossed the equator line, chaos ensued. At least 500, if not more, common dolphins erupted nearby, several Brydes’s whales put in brief appearances, and some mysterious toothed whales appeared near shore. Perhaps Risso’s dolphins, or perhaps Cuvier’s beaked whales. Unfortunately they were too far away to identify, and surfaced for too brief a moment, but were definitely a mother and calf, whatever their species.
Once we were in Zodiacs and out to sea, ocean sunfish, Bryde’s whales, Galápagos penguins, East Pacific green sea turtles, flightless cormorants and Galápagos marine iguanas all put in appearances. A few saw the electric blue of a marlin.
I think the water temperature has changed. The seasons are changing to warm, humid and wet. Finally; it’s late.
The last hour before lunch was used by snorkelers to see what could be seen underwater off the point at Vicente Roca, Isabela Island. Visibility is chancy at best here, but today was outstanding. East Pacific marine turtles were everywhere, grazing, sleeping, and hanging out in time and space. A flightless cormorant zoomed by, a marine iguana slept (yes, slept), underwater with its nose against a rock, one arm lightly attached to a rock, against a soft bed of green algae. A spotted eagle ray cruised past while a fur seal looked google-eyed at me.
The afternoon was a “typical” day on Pta. Espinoza, Fernandina Island; in other words, spectacular. Marine iguanas were spread out all over, large males defending territorial rights, females either responding (by running away) or not, Galápagos sea lions sleeping, or being young and harassing each other because there was nothing more fun to do than bother your friend. A hawk perched on a bleached bit of driftwood next to the trail. We had to take off shoes to ford a high-water patch to reach the Zodiacs on return.
Few words are available to express adequately what it feels like to spend two hours in a place where life goes on exactly as it has for the last few million years, unchanged by mankind.
