Galapagos Day 3: Floreana

Our third day had a surreal quality. This post could have alternatively been titled

- "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader"

- "Claire Wins the 'Best Sport of the Trip' Award"

or even

- "The Swiss Family Robinson"  

After two days of non-stop action, it was time to farewell the friendly San Cristobal sealions and depart bright and early for Floreana, one of the southernmost islands, and the sixth largest: 

(map courtesy of http://www.galapagosmap.com/)

Let's go for a more dramatic angle on the farewell shot, there:

Much better.

We had had to have our suitcases out of our rooms early and leave them unlocked, as the Navy does a customs inspection at every entry-exit point in the Galapagos, and checks all your luggage. 

Oswaldo and Simon made themselves comfortable in the stern of our vessel as we left San Cristobal. 

Gen Y's answer to mitigating against seasickness: the iPod. We didn't find out until later, but Oswaldo suffers from seasickness, and Simon is also prone, but, provided both are plugged in and zoned out asleep, they seem to cope.

Oswaldo's technique also involves visualisation: he reckons he pretends he's dancing at a nightclub, and reconciles himself to the wave action by putting it down to his funky moves!

Ed and Claire are excited to be off on further explorations:

Simon reckoned it was also a great opportunity to work on his tan. Unfortunately, he got rather drenched in sea-spray by the end of the trip!

The trip to Floreana was supposed to take 2 hours, but ended up taking 3.5. Once out from the shelter of San Cristobal, we experienced very big swells, and the captain kept bottoming out the boat, which made for a very bumpy journey.

Unfortunately, no one had provided Claire with an iPod, or some funky nightclub visualisation techniques, and she spent the vast majority of the trip being very, very sick, trapped in her own "Perfect Storm" nightmare. Ed was a devoted husband and took care of her tenderly, but there was little more he could do than make sure she didn't fall out of the boat, and pass her a water bottle between bouts of berleying. She looked as limp as a rag doll by the end of the journey. 

Poor Claire.

That left just Ed, Sean and I as the only passengers enjoying themselves. We saw lots of flying fish. 

Eventually, the island of Floreana materialised on the horizon. This was a very welcome sight for Claire!

Floreana is also known at Isla Santa Maria or Charles. The multiple names thing is confusing!

Floreana has a population of only 130, and is probably most famous for the big mystery surrounding the disappearances of its original settlers. These comprised three groups of Germans: a baroness with three lovers; the eccentric Dr Friedrich Ritter, who had all his teeth removed before arriving to avoid any dental problems, and his mistress; and the Wittmers, a young couple from Cologne. 

Apparently the three groups didn't get along particularly well, and one by one, many the settlers died under mysterious circumstances. The baroness and one of her lovers simply disappeared, while another lover died in a boating accident. The vegetarian Dr Ritter died of food poisoning after eating chicken. Only the Wittmers survived, and Margaret Wittmer died in 2000 at the age of 95. The descendents of the Wittmers still live on Floreana today.

The was certainly a mysterious feel to the island, but that might have had something to do with the fact that we were the only visitors, and the place was practically deserted.

Deserted, that is, apart from the masses of marine iguanas that were draped over the rocks by the landing.

The large males, resplendent with scarlet scales, were happy to bake and ignore our presence:

The little juveniles scampered about happily:

Not posing:

A beautiful spotted crab of unknown species:

Of course, we wouldn't feel at home without a welcoming sea lion cavorting in the water:

This was the sight that greeted us as we came off the boat. Note the iguana on the left of the path:

Welcome to Floreana!

A tower, and an iguana:

The big guys contemplating the surf:

Looking west across Post Office Bay:

I loved the bright red of both the iguanas and the Sally Lightfoot crabs:

Change of camera setting:

Please find in this photo: Ed, Claire, Oswaldo - and Sean:

Couldn't help myself - their red scales were irresistible! Too many photos:

Iguana walking!

Sean walking! Note the Ecuadorian flag:

This is the school. It was covered in brightly painted murals, but, like everywhere else, it was deserted. 

Oh, don't ask me. It's either a Small Ground Finch, a Medium Ground Finch, or  Vegetarian Finch. Most likely the former. I do know it's a female, because of the orange beak:

We walked up to the museum, and one of the original German Wittmer descendents unlocked the door to the museum for us. I gave the local economy a helping hand and bought a map of the Galapagos for $5. We read the history of Floreana on panels in the museum, and then sat outside and ate our packed lunch of a very generous quantity of rice, chicken and peach juice (there may have been potato chips and Coke involved, also):

And this is what I mean about Claire winning the "Best Sport of the Trip" award. Despite having turned her insides out for the best part of three hours, she's still sporting a grin, and happily tucking in to her lunch. If it were me, I'd still be smeared on the dock, whimpering quietly to myself.

After lunch we wandered down to Post Office Bay. You can mail postcards at the “Barrel Mail Box". The idea is that passing ships or tourists going in same direction as your mail collect it and mail it on for you.

The whole place really did remind us of the Swiss Family Robinson. 

We saw our first Galapagos giant tortoise! Unfortunately he was in a pen, together with a bunch of unperturbed chickens. He was brought to Floreana from another island, but can no longer return because of the risk of spreading disease, so he lives out his days here on his own, like Lonesome George. That made us kind of sad. He was very beautiful.

Stunning close up of mastication process:

Something about the head shape and the skin, and the slow widsom in the gentle eyes reminded us of "E.T.".

It was bizarre to see the chickens running around in the same pen! 

We proceeded on a 20 minute walk to the beautiful Champion Islet, where we found a hammock tucked under the protective low branches of a beachside tree - a convenient place to leave our gear. 

We then had to climb over sharp lava rocks wearing our thongs, to get to the water. The rocks are named “Uh-uh” – a Hawaiian word meaning, well, what it sounds like - "uh-uh, don't go there, because they HURT your feet!". 

At the water's edge, we had to sit down, put our fins on, get into the water, and, snorkelling, push ourselves over more rocks in the shallows to get into the lagoon. But it was worth it - we saw MANY turtles, and, for the second time, were able to join in with a group of playing sealions. It was no less exhilarating than the first time, and SO much fun. I told a lie in my earlier entry - it was, in fact, during this snorkel that a big female swam up and grunted at me, so I grunted back at her, making her stop at stare! Another waved to Ed above the water when he waved at it. 

I also saw a whole school of barracuda, juvenile damselfish, a small ray, baby pufferfish, pipefish, and, right before I got out of the water, a school of garfish.

Sorry, no underwater shots. We'd given up on the whole disposable camera thing.  

We walked back to the museum, had an energising slug of Coke, and got on the boat for another, 2 hour journey to reach Oswaldo's home island of Isabela. 

Departing Floreana:

 

Claire was incredibly brave getting back on the boat. She'd happily joined in the walk and snorkel, and was a truly deserving recipient of the Best Sport Award.

And, although a tad tentative, she's still smiling.  

Farewelling Floreana:

I saw a dolphin leaping off the stern of the boat when we were nearly at Isabella. I also saw a lot more flying fish.

Isabela looked beautiful rising out of the cloud. The Galapagos are called the “Enchanted Islands” because of how one island gradually disappears astern and another mistily appears at the bow. It was like being on Narnia's Voyage of the Dawn Treader.  

Maybe it was knowing it was Oswaldo's home island, maybe it was because it is the biggest island of the archipelago, yet is one of the least commercialised, but it somehow had a lovely, welcoming feel to it. 

Oswaldo was so happy to be coming home for three days. He refers to Isabela as "My Island".

We reckoned he was pretty keen for three days of being pampered by his Mum's cooking and having his laundry done.

Sean decided he'd do us a favour by finishing off the superfluous sandwiches on which we'd been snacking. Less to offload. 

Ed contemplates the mystique of the Galapagos as he sets foot on lovely Isabela: 

We docked in a mangrove lagoon:

On arrival, we went straight to our hotel, where our rooms were located along an upstairs verandah/balcony. 

 

Sean and I had a lovely, clean big room with blue and white tiles. Out on the balcony were a chairs and tables (v handy for drying laundry and for late night communal gatherings). There was also a convenient water cooler right outside our rooms, providing unlimited filtered water. We were set!

 

This is the view from the balcony:

Oswaldo’s Dad owns a prominent grocery shop on the main street. We stopped in to say g'day and met his parents and brother, and Oswaldo's gorgeous, fluffy, husky puppy. I bought a coconut ice block which tasted amazing, with chunks of coconut frozen amongst it. 

We went to a small restaurant called Cesars for dinner. It was one of three located all in a row and we chose it at random. They were all out of beef, so the boys were denied a steak, but they still managed to enjoy their Cervasa Grandes, while I had grilled octopus. 

Isabela had a lovely feeling of community about it. It wasn't some tarted up tourist trap. There were simple dirt streets, and the local people were warm and friendly. We walked back to our hotel past the community hall where a meeting in progress. We chatted out on our verandah for a while, but with the promise of Isabela adventures on the morrow, and, tired from all our seafaring, we voted unanimously for an early night.