Isabela & Fernandina
The morning light caught the flanks of Wolf Volcano as we sailed over the northern coastline of Isabela Island. The surface of the ocean appeared oily in its calmness. Galápagos storm petrels, Galápagos petrels and Galápagos shearwaters were reflected in the early light.
Right after I made my early morning up-date call for those who wanted to join the searchers, a whale surfaced nearby – most likely a Bryde’s whale, although true to its nature, it proved quite elusive after we turned the ship around and headed back east in pursuit. This seemed the name of the game, because it happened several times throughout the morning, although one sighting just may have been a Cuvier’s beaked whale with calf – a distinct dorsal fin, one distinctly bigger than the other.
The equator line provided some fun, in that at the moment of crossing using the GPS in the bridge for the countdown, the ship’s horn blew and the air temperature dropped suddenly by almost ten degrees! I had a suspicion that something funny was going on when in the distance. As we approached the west (and the equator) a bank of low inversion-layer clouds came into view. The famous Cromwell undercurrent, or south Equatorial counter-current, had made an appearance with a vengeance. The up-welling of cold, deep, nutrient-rich waters on the west is to be expected all year. It is what makes the presence and survival of penguins and fur seals possible during the warm season. Normally in February the warm water current from the northeast floods the archipelago and dampens the effect of the counter current to a certain degree. Not today! From waters of 81º F yesterday in Champion, Floreana Island in the south, we were now in waters of 61º F. This up-welling cold water was cooling the warm humid air above and condensing into an inversion layer of low clouds only a hundred or so feet high, right above ocean level. In fact as we approached Punta Vicente Roca, the light winds created cloud waves which undulated and rolled in slow motion before us.
Our morning spent both in Zodiacs and later snorkelling was outstanding: penguins, flightless cormorants, fur seals, sea lions, iguanas – and most bizarre of all, lots and lots of krill. The bay was packed with it, forming red clouds. The krill leaped out of the water as predators zoomed through. A manta ray appeared, but moved so quickly no-one got a good look. Meanwhile green sea turtles in Zen-like slow movements moved through the water gulping small jellies.
Punta Espinoza on Fernandina Island was spectacular. This must be how all islands appeared at the beginning of time here in Galápagos. They all must have loomed large, barren and ominous. But look carefully between the cracks, and little Mollugo plants are blooming. On the beach, sea lions were gathered in scattered herds, while the marine iguanas piled close for warmth. Iguana nesting burrows temporarily unoccupied dotted the sandy expanses. A flightless cormorant pair was sleeping over the beginnings of their nest of algae, bones and dried twigs. Two penguins popped up onshore, and a snake slithered by down a fissure.
The best part? It would continue exactly the same after we were gone – we had made no difference to the lives of the residents.
The morning light caught the flanks of Wolf Volcano as we sailed over the northern coastline of Isabela Island. The surface of the ocean appeared oily in its calmness. Galápagos storm petrels, Galápagos petrels and Galápagos shearwaters were reflected in the early light.
Right after I made my early morning up-date call for those who wanted to join the searchers, a whale surfaced nearby – most likely a Bryde’s whale, although true to its nature, it proved quite elusive after we turned the ship around and headed back east in pursuit. This seemed the name of the game, because it happened several times throughout the morning, although one sighting just may have been a Cuvier’s beaked whale with calf – a distinct dorsal fin, one distinctly bigger than the other.
The equator line provided some fun, in that at the moment of crossing using the GPS in the bridge for the countdown, the ship’s horn blew and the air temperature dropped suddenly by almost ten degrees! I had a suspicion that something funny was going on when in the distance. As we approached the west (and the equator) a bank of low inversion-layer clouds came into view. The famous Cromwell undercurrent, or south Equatorial counter-current, had made an appearance with a vengeance. The up-welling of cold, deep, nutrient-rich waters on the west is to be expected all year. It is what makes the presence and survival of penguins and fur seals possible during the warm season. Normally in February the warm water current from the northeast floods the archipelago and dampens the effect of the counter current to a certain degree. Not today! From waters of 81º F yesterday in Champion, Floreana Island in the south, we were now in waters of 61º F. This up-welling cold water was cooling the warm humid air above and condensing into an inversion layer of low clouds only a hundred or so feet high, right above ocean level. In fact as we approached Punta Vicente Roca, the light winds created cloud waves which undulated and rolled in slow motion before us.
Our morning spent both in Zodiacs and later snorkelling was outstanding: penguins, flightless cormorants, fur seals, sea lions, iguanas – and most bizarre of all, lots and lots of krill. The bay was packed with it, forming red clouds. The krill leaped out of the water as predators zoomed through. A manta ray appeared, but moved so quickly no-one got a good look. Meanwhile green sea turtles in Zen-like slow movements moved through the water gulping small jellies.
Punta Espinoza on Fernandina Island was spectacular. This must be how all islands appeared at the beginning of time here in Galápagos. They all must have loomed large, barren and ominous. But look carefully between the cracks, and little Mollugo plants are blooming. On the beach, sea lions were gathered in scattered herds, while the marine iguanas piled close for warmth. Iguana nesting burrows temporarily unoccupied dotted the sandy expanses. A flightless cormorant pair was sleeping over the beginnings of their nest of algae, bones and dried twigs. Two penguins popped up onshore, and a snake slithered by down a fissure.
The best part? It would continue exactly the same after we were gone – we had made no difference to the lives of the residents.
