Lives of Wander

I’ve been fortunate to snorkel in some pretty amazing places: off the coast of Hawaii, in the Red sea, over the reefs of Belize. I’ve seen amazing coral formations, swam through a swarm of non-stinging jellyfish, been brushed by huge rays, and shared space with a green sea turtle. But snorkeling in the Galapagos tops all of that.

We were pleased in that during our 8-day tour, we were able to snorkel almost every single day, generally twice a day. We’d flip off the side of our panga (the inflatable boat that took us to and from landing sites) or wade in from the beach, stick our head in the water, and instantly be taken to another world. The water was, except for on one occasion, crystal clear with excellent visibility and, at this time of year, warm enough to swim in without a wet suit. Nearly constantly, you’d hear a faint yell and life your head to hear another snorkeler announcing an exciting discovery, or you’d follow the outstretched arm of the snorkeler next to you to see something amazing.

Upon reboarding the boat after an hour or so of snorkeling, we’d all share what we saw. Every day we’d hear something like this:

four white-tipped sharks!

a huge eagle ray!

three Pacific green sea turtles!

two penguins that torpedoed right past me!

a couple more penguins just bobbing on the surface!

a pair of sea lions that kept circling me!

a huge bull sea lion that was making sure we knew he was boss!

And then, after we’d marveled at all we’d seen, someone would usually add a final thought: “The fish were pretty nice, too.”

Baby barracudas, orange puffer fish, trumpetfish, a highway of damselfish, blunthead triggerfish, parrot fish, and more—in a normal snorkeling situation, they’d all be worth an individual mention, but in the Galapagos, these brightly colored beauties were just an afterthought. I’m afraid that we’ve been spoiled.

Reptiles make up an important part of the Galapagos population, with the two most well-known reptiles being the famed marine iguanas—which propel themselves through the water with long tails and then dive down to feed on underwater algae before returning to land to recover their body temperature with long rests on hot rocks—and the giant tortoises—which can live upwards of 200 years.

Beyond sharing the commonalities of reptiles, the marine iguanas and the giant tortoises also share another feature: a face only a momma could love. And oh yeah, movie directors too. Take a look at these two animals and see what first comes to mind.

Did the tortoise make you think of E.T.? Legend has it that Stephen Spielberg fashioned E.T. after a tortoise, and hey I believe it. When they extended their long necks, I half expected them to voice, “E.T. phone home.”

The only noise they made, however, was a deep breathing sound reminiscent of Darth Vader and some pretty nasty masticating sounds (they’re messy eaters!).

As for the marine iguanas, well, I just can’t look at them without thinking Godzilla. This thought is especially prominent when they stick their head up over the top of a rock, like Godzilla towering over a building. Don’t tell me that you can’t see it.

Land iguanas, a species closely related to the marine iguanas, but without the ability to swim, also look quite similar to Godzilla but their more rounded faces and bright yellow coloring makes it not as much of a match for me. Decide for yourself, however.

I’ve always sort of mocked birding. You walk for hours, trail whispers and sounds in the forest, only to catch the briefest of glimpses of a wing as it sails away from you. It never sounded like my idea of fun. Sure, I like hiking, and we tend to see a fair number of birds doing that, but to go out with the express intent of looking for birds has always seemed to me to be silly.

But there’s nothing silly about birdwatching in the Galapagos. It is just outstanding. You can’t help but be captivated by them and want to find out their names and what they eat and their courtship behavior, and so on. It’s the accessibility that makes all the difference. First, the terrain is very open. And second, the birds have absolutely no fear of humans. They nest right onshore and often right on the designated people trails. You can walk up to within mere feet of their nests full of baby birds. They will fly in and land directly next to you, or sail a few feet above your head. Boobies and pelicans will dive headlong into the water, splashing you in the process, and come up with a mouthful of fish. The frigate bird will then swoop in and a battle will ensue as they try to steal the catch. All this within an arms reach. You could join the fish fight too, if it wasn’t for that pesky no touching rule.

So I think you get my point, birdwatching in the Galapagos is awesome, and I’m sure all you want to see is the pictures. So here we go. I’ll just go ahead give you what you all want, Boobies! (the Blue-Footed kind).

There are two other boobies, the Nazca Booby and the Red Footed Booby. Nazca’s just aren’t as pretty, as you can see, and we didn’t see any Red Footed Boobies as they were nesting on far away islands we didn’t visit.

But don’t quit on me now, because there are lots of other really cool Galapagos birds, starting with my second favorite, the Frigates. They are just a strange bird in general. They don’t catch their own food, they steal it from other birds. When they’re young, they can get their own food at six months, but if their parents don’t feed them until they’re two, they’ll starve. Lazy birds. And the males during courtship inflate these red membranes under their beak and sit there all day courting females … but since they mate for life, they only accept “their” female. The Magnificent Frigate makes a drumming sound by pounding his beak on his red “drum”, while the Great Frigate makes a turkey like gobbling sound by shaking his whole body (hilarious to see!). That’s how the two species (which look very similar) keep from interbreeding.

The other really beautiful bird is the Red Billed Tropicbird. It has this extra long tail feather. Aparently, Frigates are fond of pulling on this to make them drop their food.

There’s also two different kinds of gulls, the Swallowtail Gull (the only nocturnal feeding gull in the world, for whatever that means to any of you) and the Lava Gull (of which there are only 400 or so in the world, all in the Galapagos).

The Galapagos Hawk, which I don’t know from a regular hawk because I’ve never been this close to a hawk before.

Flamingos, which are like Flamingos elsewhere in the world, so there’s nothing unique for me to explain here. We never saw too many of them, except for one young one that almost walked into a sea lion on the beach.

Pelicans were always diving into the water, left and right, and generally looking rather comical for our amusement.

There’s also a variety of herons who’s names I can’t remember any more, but they are, as always, very pretty birds.

I have to admit that sea lions weren’t at the top of my list of animals I was looking forward to seeing in the Galapagos. Before we came, they seemed so, well, ordinary. They’re at every zoo and aquarium in the world, and it’s not rare to spot them in the wild. Practically any wharf has its share of sea lions begging for food from the fishermen.

But once we made it to the Galapagos, it didn’t take long for the sea lions to change my mind and quickly become one of my favorites.

At the port, as we waited to board our boat for the first time, the sea lions lounged on the benches, lazily opening an eye to survey us, as we snapped way too many photos, excited to be in this wildlife wonderland.

On the first morning, we woke to find that sea lions had decided to join us onboard our catamaran, and they amused us through breakfast as they’d jump off the deck for a swim and then haul themselves back up, non-paying but most welcome passengers.

With nearly every landing, we were greeted by a committee of sea lions that would surround the boat. The beachmaster male would bark to let us know that he was boss, but then would always let us pass without trouble.

Once on shore, we received a cacophonous welcome as the sea lions communicated with noises that sounded like they had serious cases of indigestion. For our entertainment, they would lie right at the edge of the surf and roll with each wave or literally ride a wave in from the ocean to the sand. They’d log roll themselves along the beach until they were covered in sand, or for sport chase an iguana or crab.

Sometimes they’d just wave a flipper or stretch into a picture perfect pose.

Most endearing were the many, many pups, which didn’t think twice about coming up to us to nibble on our shoelaces or squeeze between our legs.

Though I don’t think it’s possible to be in a bad mood in the Galapagos, if you were, one look at these pups and you’d have a smile on your face.

And nearly every time we dove into the water for a snorkel, the sea lions joined us. They’d buzz past us quickly, moving with complete grace. They’d swim slowly under us, checking us out as we checked them out. Or too lazy to move from the rocks on which they’d perch, they’d only stick their heads in, keeping an eye on us privileged guests as we spent a little time in their home.

For people like me, that don’t have religion, the Galapagos is kind of like Mecca. It was the birthplace of the evolutionary creed. Complete with God-like idols of Charles Darwin.

So for me, at least, this trip was a pretty big deal. But really, it’s hard to look around these islands and not understand what Mr. Darwin was thinking. Each island has it’s own species or subspecies. The differences between the islands lead to different variations on animals that do different things. It’s the only place with tropical penguins, birds with blue feet and iguanas that swim. The most remarkable thing about the place, however, is that the animals have no fear of people. You can approach the animals and in many cases reach out and touch them (though you’re not actually allowed to), and they seem completely oblivious to your presence, or even interested in you. The sea lions are particularly known for playing with tourists.

Over the next few posts, we’re going to share what we saw, where we went and so on, but we’ll start with how our routine typically went.

Just about the only way to see a fair amount of the Galapagos is on a cruise, sleeping aboard a boat transporting you from place to place overnight. There are land based options, but they’re both more damaging to the environment and less enjoyable since you spend so much of your time traveling to and from a destination. Of course, they are cheaper than boats and if you get seasick are probably more appealing than spending your evenings over the railing.

But in Quito we found a very good last minute special on a first class catamaran, the Nemo II, and so booked it and headed out to the islands. Though space was certainly at a premium (and being the last minute passengers, we had the smallest cabin with bunk beds), the boat was a beautiful motorsailing catamaran, and felt exactly like how we should be traveling the Galapagos. Lounging on the top deck as the sun set (or rose!) with the sails fully extended or laying on the catamaran netting just above a group of leaping dolphins could not have been more perfect.

Aboard, our days were just packed. Morning wake up call was at 6:30 followed by breakfast served at 7. By 8 we were expected to be ready for our first landing of the day, lasting between 2-3 hours walking on short trails along with plenty of time for our guide to explain all the things we saw. We would return to our boat in time to do a bit of snorkeling before lunch at noon aboard the boat (no food is allowed on shore except in the three port towns). Around 2 pm we’d have another landing comprising of either a short hike or free beach time or more snorkeling or free time in port. If we were traveling that evening, we’d often start before sunset to look for dolphins or whales. After watching the sunset around 6:30, dinner would be at 7 and then it was relaxing time. All in all, it was a full day, and we were usually exhausted and fell into bed before 10 … especially since we had a 6:30 wake up call the next morning.

All this week we’ll be documenting our trip, and don’t worry, your wishes have been heard. We will be posting plenty of photos — with over 1600 of them, it’s just a matter of choosing which ones!

Wherever we go, even the most touristed cities, we make an effort to get a bit off the most beaten of tracks. We find the local restaurant and have the set lunch menu, surrounded by families and business people. We wander around the neighborhoods, shop in the weekend food markets, and whenever possible, try to talk to locals. But regardless, we are tourists.

In Quito, we’ve had a bit of a different experience, however; here we’ve seen the city through different eyes, all thanks to a connection first made thirteen years ago. You see, during the 1996-97 school year, my uncle and his family hosted an exchange student from Quito, and I thus gained an Ecuadorian cousin, Sole. Through the years since Sole lived in Louisville, our family has kept in touch with this long-distance extension of the family, and now many years and many life changes since our gatherings around Zimmerman dining tables, we have managed to reunite.

As her American cousins, we have been welcomed into her home and treated with the warmest hospitality by Sole, her husband Fabrizio, and their son Nicolas, not to mention her parents, sisters, cousins, and other family members who live near by. Essentially now not only is Sole a Zimmerman, but Jeff and I are also Naranjos.

And while Sole has been the best tour guide we’ve had—through the Old Town of Quito, to restaurants in La Mariscal and much less tourist-frequented areas, on day trips to Mindo, Mitad del Mundo, Otavalo, and Papallacta, and even on an exclusive tour of the only wool hat factory in Quito (owned by her husband’s family)—it’s not the sites that will stick out in our minds say another thirteen years from now. No, instead what we will remember is the comfort of being in a home where we felt welcome and were able to throw down our backpacks for a while. We’ll remember homecooked lunches at Sole’s parents every afternoon. We’ll remember pillow fights with Nicolas. We’ll remember after-dinner conversations with Sole and Fabrizio. We’ll remember Quito as a well-loved and well-lived-in city. And most importantly, we’ll remember that in a year of being essentially homeless, for a while, we had a home in Ecuador.

In lieu of words, just enjoy the photos of the hummingbirds we saw in Mindo, just north of Quito.

You might think the middle of the world would be deep within the earth’s core (that is, assuming you believe the world is round). Well, you’d be wrong. Turns out, the middle of the world (Mitad del Mundo, as it’s known here) is just outside of Quito, Ecuador. And my is it a delightful place.
You might begin with the Colonial Quito scale model, and follow it up with the model versions of Ecuador’s two other largest cities, Guayaquil and Cuenca. Or perhaps you prefer a history of French expeditions to determine the equitorial line. Or maybe bugs are more your thing, there’s a great insectarium with all sorts of gross creepy crawlies (seriously, they’re so big here!). You can hold your favorite and have your photo taken for only $2! Seriously, I can only feel for the guy that had to capture these bugs, then stick a pin through their exoskeletons so they could be pinned up on the wall.

But don’t worry, there’s more. There’s a planetarium that unfortunately costs extra so we didn’t go. But the highlight is the 30 meter tall tower museum of indigenous cultures (also extra, so we also didn’t go in) that stands right on the red line indicating the equator.

Just into the northern hemisphere are a wide variety of souvenir shops, while just into the southern hemisphere  you’ll find restaurants with touts galore! There’s even a bull fighting ring.

And here’s the kicker of the whole thing … it isn’t even the real equitorial line. The French were about 150 meters off (though, in defense of the French, this is still quite accurate given the measurement was made in 1736, well before GPS’s exposed their error). The real equitorial line runs through the Inti-Nan museum next door, an even more delightful place.

The Inti-Nan tour starts with a guinea pig coop followed by the guinea pig roaster. Moving on, we witness the immense size of Ecuadorian tarantulas and anacondas. Not for the faint of heart. The highlight are the authentic shrunken human heads on display, complete with a short recipe for how to do it (we may share after we’ve tried it!). This is followed by poison dart shooting practice and life size models of naked indigenous people. Brilliant, eh?

But what was actually really cool (as if we hadn’t had enough coolness for the day) was the demonstrations of various things that happen on the exact Equator. Toilets really do flush clockwise south of the equator and counter-clockwise north of the equator. We proved it. And on the equator, water just rushes straight down, no spinning involved. You can balance an egg on the head of a nail (although apparently I defy laws of physics because I still couldn’t).

You also weigh less and can jump higher on the equator because of the bulge of the earth (hence you’re farther from the core and gravity is weaker) and you’re not as strong. While standing two feet from the equator I could keep Theresa from opening my hand, right on the equator she had no trouble pulling apart my fingers. It all has to do with the fact that the only force pulling on you at the equator is straight down, there are no sideways forces. It’s really a pretty magical feeling.

So in summary, in the last year:
Top of the World: Abisko, Sweden
End of the World: Ushuaia, Argentina
Middle of the World: Ecuador

I think I’ve covered it.