Urbina Bay & Punta Moreno, Southern Isabela Island
We awoke refreshed, after having last night enjoyed a wonderful look at the total lunar eclipse, a calm anchorage until 0500 and a late wake up call (late for us in Galápagos anyway) this morning, at 0730. We disembarked for one of two hike options: long hikers and short. The small, black sand landing beach was riddled with deep holes left by nesting sea turtles; one nesting lady had just returned to the sea around sunrise and we could see her trail all the way down to the lapping waves. She may come again in a couple of weeks to dig another nest and deposit dozens of her soft shelled eggs deep in the dark sand to be incubated by the hot tropical sun. The green sea turtles in Galápagos nest up to seven times in a season, but they do not nest every year, rather every two or three years. Here on the National Geographic Islander we are involved in sea turtle research with the Charles Darwin Station. We census turtles in their feeding area and count their fresh tacks on the nesting beaches that we visit.
This morning’s hikes were splendid: first along the coast, where we can still find evidence of the rapid 1954 uplift of this shore line that left the marine creatures high and dry, and then on an inland trail amid the brilliant green of the newly leafed palo santo trees. We found bright yellow-orange land iguanas which, with the coming of the rains, once again have plenty to eat and have noticeably filled out; they were thin and hungry when I was last here in early January. They posed for our photographs, in no hurry to move now that food is abundant and their life is easy. We observed butterflies and blooms, countless black carpenter bees. We found a teenage tortoise and a lovely golden juvenile hawk. Back at the beach we relaxed on the warm sand and splashed in the surf. Six strong swimmers stroked all the way back to the ship, escorted for safety by Rueben in his panga.
In the afternoon two groups of “lava hikers” led by Ernesto and Celso went out in search of three small brackish lagoons where lush, green marsh vegetation is incongruous in the middle of rough and barren lava fields. Unexpectedly, four dazzlingly pink flamingos were resting in one of the tiny lagoons. Daniel and I took our guests among the mangroves on a peaceful panga ride. We then ventured out to sea in search of penguins, braving the rough surf to admire over a hundred of the charming birds resting on the lava shelves in the company of huge marine iguanas and sea lions.
We awoke refreshed, after having last night enjoyed a wonderful look at the total lunar eclipse, a calm anchorage until 0500 and a late wake up call (late for us in Galápagos anyway) this morning, at 0730. We disembarked for one of two hike options: long hikers and short. The small, black sand landing beach was riddled with deep holes left by nesting sea turtles; one nesting lady had just returned to the sea around sunrise and we could see her trail all the way down to the lapping waves. She may come again in a couple of weeks to dig another nest and deposit dozens of her soft shelled eggs deep in the dark sand to be incubated by the hot tropical sun. The green sea turtles in Galápagos nest up to seven times in a season, but they do not nest every year, rather every two or three years. Here on the National Geographic Islander we are involved in sea turtle research with the Charles Darwin Station. We census turtles in their feeding area and count their fresh tacks on the nesting beaches that we visit.
This morning’s hikes were splendid: first along the coast, where we can still find evidence of the rapid 1954 uplift of this shore line that left the marine creatures high and dry, and then on an inland trail amid the brilliant green of the newly leafed palo santo trees. We found bright yellow-orange land iguanas which, with the coming of the rains, once again have plenty to eat and have noticeably filled out; they were thin and hungry when I was last here in early January. They posed for our photographs, in no hurry to move now that food is abundant and their life is easy. We observed butterflies and blooms, countless black carpenter bees. We found a teenage tortoise and a lovely golden juvenile hawk. Back at the beach we relaxed on the warm sand and splashed in the surf. Six strong swimmers stroked all the way back to the ship, escorted for safety by Rueben in his panga.
In the afternoon two groups of “lava hikers” led by Ernesto and Celso went out in search of three small brackish lagoons where lush, green marsh vegetation is incongruous in the middle of rough and barren lava fields. Unexpectedly, four dazzlingly pink flamingos were resting in one of the tiny lagoons. Daniel and I took our guests among the mangroves on a peaceful panga ride. We then ventured out to sea in search of penguins, braving the rough surf to admire over a hundred of the charming birds resting on the lava shelves in the company of huge marine iguanas and sea lions.
