Genovesa Island
It was 7 o’clock in the morning, and the instruments in the bridge indicated that we were crossing over a narrow wall and into a large, circular bay where the depths plummeted to well over a thousand feet; way beyond the reach of our depth sounder. We had just entered the caldera of what was once, millions of years ago, an active oceanic volcano, which has since become the haunt of hundreds of thousands of seabirds. Thick mists shrouded the island this morning, adding to the feeling of mystery, but the loud cacophony of birdcalls was everywhere to be heard, and as the fog gradually lifted we could discern hundreds of large shapes circling overhead. Our vessel had to cross the deep crater to reach the far side, by a pretty white beach, where the only area shallow enough to anchor in can be found.
By the time we were ready to board our fleet of Zodiacs to head to shore, the sun was coming out and a beautiful day began – a day spent gazing at the colours that surrounded us: the reds of bird feet and inflated gular sacs, the brilliant green of mangroves, the white of coralline sand, the turquoise waters and menacing black shapes of frigates flying by. As we wandered amongst the fearless inhabitants of Genovesa, we were taken aback once more by the total innocence of these “islands lost in time”. Here we could see the red-footed boobies running garish blue-and-pink beaks through their feathers in preparation for long forays at sea. Here we could see large, brilliantly white Nazca boobies standing protectively over downy chicks, whilst the juveniles energetically flapped their wings in preparation for the glorious day they would finally take to the skies. Here we walked through colonies of elegant swallow-tailed gulls that stared at us with large, red-ringed eyes all whilst tending their speckled nests and eggs. Here we came across short-eared owls with unusual diurnal hunting habits voraciously engulfing petrels. And again here we immersed ourselves in tropical waters, as swarms of golden cow-nose rays glided up from the depths, their elegant aquatic flight mirroring that of their aerial counterparts, the seabirds of Genovesa.
Truly a day never to be forgotten.
It was 7 o’clock in the morning, and the instruments in the bridge indicated that we were crossing over a narrow wall and into a large, circular bay where the depths plummeted to well over a thousand feet; way beyond the reach of our depth sounder. We had just entered the caldera of what was once, millions of years ago, an active oceanic volcano, which has since become the haunt of hundreds of thousands of seabirds. Thick mists shrouded the island this morning, adding to the feeling of mystery, but the loud cacophony of birdcalls was everywhere to be heard, and as the fog gradually lifted we could discern hundreds of large shapes circling overhead. Our vessel had to cross the deep crater to reach the far side, by a pretty white beach, where the only area shallow enough to anchor in can be found.
By the time we were ready to board our fleet of Zodiacs to head to shore, the sun was coming out and a beautiful day began – a day spent gazing at the colours that surrounded us: the reds of bird feet and inflated gular sacs, the brilliant green of mangroves, the white of coralline sand, the turquoise waters and menacing black shapes of frigates flying by. As we wandered amongst the fearless inhabitants of Genovesa, we were taken aback once more by the total innocence of these “islands lost in time”. Here we could see the red-footed boobies running garish blue-and-pink beaks through their feathers in preparation for long forays at sea. Here we could see large, brilliantly white Nazca boobies standing protectively over downy chicks, whilst the juveniles energetically flapped their wings in preparation for the glorious day they would finally take to the skies. Here we walked through colonies of elegant swallow-tailed gulls that stared at us with large, red-ringed eyes all whilst tending their speckled nests and eggs. Here we came across short-eared owls with unusual diurnal hunting habits voraciously engulfing petrels. And again here we immersed ourselves in tropical waters, as swarms of golden cow-nose rays glided up from the depths, their elegant aquatic flight mirroring that of their aerial counterparts, the seabirds of Genovesa.
Truly a day never to be forgotten.
