When we woke up this morning we were on approach to Roca Redonda on a calm sea. Herman Melville wrote back in the 1840’s of his observations taken from the top of this remote rock outcrop. Using considerable literary license he had little favourable to say of these desolate islands. Up to now, we have been fascinated by all we have seen and found what Melville called ugly, remarkably beautiful; time changes perspective. Sea birds flew in quantities around the rock they call home, creating a salt-and-pepper effect off the cliffs. Sea lions and fur seals were in the cold, up-welling waters and jumped clear of the water as they travelled quickly; keeping to an itinerary only they were aware of. A small pod of bottle-nosed dolphins seemed to be feeding off the underwater ridge, and paid no attention what-so-ever of this small ship circling their feeding grounds.
After breakfast the Equator line was crossed with much fanfare, and our youngest guest, Gabriel, helped enormously by blowing the ship’s horn in recognition that all on board had suddenly become shellbacks, leaving their pollywog states behind in the northern hemisphere.
A short while later we were ready to board for an exploratory ride along the shoreline of Punta Vicente Roca, which turned into quite the adventure when a beautiful, large and tranquil giant of the ocean depths agreed to stay near the surface and let us “ooo” and “ahhh” over it’s size, shape and comportment. The oceanic sunfish is quite an unusual creature, appearing as if the back half had been removed, but in reality was never there. As we closed in quietly and smoothly from one side, it remained with just the dorsal fin exposed, and with today’s new digital cameras, I was able to capture an image of the head by reaching over the side (and no-one had to hold my feet!). So much research is still left to do here in the islands until we can understand these giants in their home under the sea.
The afternoon had us sailing from Isabela to Fernandina when we were given a special chance to see something spectacular in a different way. Hundreds of common dolphins crossed our path, sporting their recognizable hourglass pattern along their flanks as they leaped enormous distances in one go.
Finally Fernandina – the beginning of time. All these islands began as huge, barren volcanoes emerging from the tectonic plates beneath us in a plume of mantle material. Fernandina is only the most recent. She is thought to be less than 200,000 years old. Pa-hoe-hoe lava received us on landing, irregular and black. Sea lions dozed on the sand made of urchin spines and broken shells intermixed with volcanic ash. Marine iguanas piled up on each other as the sun lowered on the western horizon. Despite intense mental concentration from us all, there were no signs of an eruption to be; at least not today. Perhaps tomorrow!
