Floreana Island
Life can’t possibly get any better than this. Early morning found us anchored off Post Office Bay when under a sun that was already starting to strengthen, Zodiacs went ashore with postcard-carrying guests and staff to participate in an exchange of correspondence that has been taking place for over two hundred years. Young black-tipped reef sharks and one hammerhead a foot long were seen swimming in the shallows on disembarkation. Postcards were dropped off and taken on at the barrel, and once back on board we took off for Champion Islet to the east.
Champion these days was a dream fulfilled. Once in the azure waters of a visibility rare for Galápagos, the fish flocked in the up-current areas. The stars of the show however were the sea-lions. Youngsters between a few months of age to a couple years old found us quickly and commenced to play with these ungainly humans. One in particular was so confident of its ability to approach us that he grabbed swim fins and even pushed against us! They have no idea that we are made of thinner skin, no fur or blubber to protect us. We seemed to be the equivalent of a chewy toy to be played with instead! Time with these residents of the islands is time in heaven for me.
Kayakers took off in the afternoon before the walkers finally went to the “green” beach of Point Cormorant to look for flamingos. They were there in all their finery, including the sounds and flights of flamingos in courtship mode. Brilliant salmon pink feathers against black primaries stood on elegant legs as they danced their way in circles stirring up brine shrimp from the muddy depths of the lagoon.
On the fine white sandy beach of the point turtle hatchlings were waiting below the surface. At least for today they managed to escape the predation of the frigates patrolling the windward beach. Several times we found our eyes riveted to the airspace above the shallow depressions left by female east Pacific green marine turtles 55 days ago. The frigates had better eyesight than we did, and swooped down in elegant forays, testing the possible hatching areas where hatchling turtles were starting to emerge. As it grew dark, we returned, leaving the white beach to the vagaries of natural selection to follow later.
For a few hours, we had been witness to a world where humans had no role to play. It felt good to be ignored.
Life can’t possibly get any better than this. Early morning found us anchored off Post Office Bay when under a sun that was already starting to strengthen, Zodiacs went ashore with postcard-carrying guests and staff to participate in an exchange of correspondence that has been taking place for over two hundred years. Young black-tipped reef sharks and one hammerhead a foot long were seen swimming in the shallows on disembarkation. Postcards were dropped off and taken on at the barrel, and once back on board we took off for Champion Islet to the east.
Champion these days was a dream fulfilled. Once in the azure waters of a visibility rare for Galápagos, the fish flocked in the up-current areas. The stars of the show however were the sea-lions. Youngsters between a few months of age to a couple years old found us quickly and commenced to play with these ungainly humans. One in particular was so confident of its ability to approach us that he grabbed swim fins and even pushed against us! They have no idea that we are made of thinner skin, no fur or blubber to protect us. We seemed to be the equivalent of a chewy toy to be played with instead! Time with these residents of the islands is time in heaven for me.
Kayakers took off in the afternoon before the walkers finally went to the “green” beach of Point Cormorant to look for flamingos. They were there in all their finery, including the sounds and flights of flamingos in courtship mode. Brilliant salmon pink feathers against black primaries stood on elegant legs as they danced their way in circles stirring up brine shrimp from the muddy depths of the lagoon.
On the fine white sandy beach of the point turtle hatchlings were waiting below the surface. At least for today they managed to escape the predation of the frigates patrolling the windward beach. Several times we found our eyes riveted to the airspace above the shallow depressions left by female east Pacific green marine turtles 55 days ago. The frigates had better eyesight than we did, and swooped down in elegant forays, testing the possible hatching areas where hatchling turtles were starting to emerge. As it grew dark, we returned, leaving the white beach to the vagaries of natural selection to follow later.
For a few hours, we had been witness to a world where humans had no role to play. It felt good to be ignored.
