Bartolomé & Santiago Islands
When I woke up today, I realized it would be another work day, just like the others. My commute to the desk took about a minute, or perhaps more as I stopped by the library to get my early morning cup of coffee. When I looked out the window I saw there might be a distant chance of rain, but the sun was over the horizon and we were already committed to the day’s plans. However, by the time the wake-up call came through, overhead was mostly clear, boding well for what was to come.
A week of plentiful and excellent quality food required attention; so work today started with a stairmaster work-out regime of an hour and a half. To be truthful, I didn’t insist on one long drudge. Instead, we arranged to give everyone moments of respite during the exercise, and arranged for the most spectacular panoramic view in the archipelago to build with quiet intensity with each short break. The reward for the effort was to stand on top of Bartolomé Island just off the eastern coast of Santiago Island, and look out around at the blue Pacific Ocean. The huge expanse was broken by islands both large and small in earth-tone hues overlaid by light green. Calm, flat waters in the lee of Bartolomé Island, the pinnacle standing free and clear, pointing into the sky. Spatter cones, tuff cones and cinder lay scattered on the barren surface. In the distance to the south, whale spouts were spotted, unfortunately too far to attempt by Zodiac for a closer look and possible identification.
Our exercise program had us leaving once more after breakfast to cross a sand dune to explore the far side. On return, the placid waters of Bartolomé’s golden beach beckoned, and the plunge felt exquisite. Mullet, surgeonfish, triggerfish, damselfish, sharks and penguins. Penguins? And they were racing today. We worked off the mudslide-cookies-to-come just trying to keep up. Most of the juvenile grunts and sardines escaped, but the slow were picked off by these black-and-whites in acrobatic manoeuvres that put the frigate’s abilities to shame.
In keeping with the hard work schedule, hard-core swimmers, beach-goers and snorkelers went ashore in the afternoon one last time at Puerto Egas, James Island. Penguins again! In an unexpected encounter, two penguins, one adult and one juvenile, were hanging out on the rocks, seemingly content to watch the pelican and blue-footed boobies do the more energetic work of catching fish.
The grand finale was the coastal trail in late, low light and moody clouds, and was a total success. Whimbrels, ruddy turnstones, oystercatchers, wandering tattlers accompanied marine iguanas, sea lions and fur seals.
I love my job.
When I woke up today, I realized it would be another work day, just like the others. My commute to the desk took about a minute, or perhaps more as I stopped by the library to get my early morning cup of coffee. When I looked out the window I saw there might be a distant chance of rain, but the sun was over the horizon and we were already committed to the day’s plans. However, by the time the wake-up call came through, overhead was mostly clear, boding well for what was to come.
A week of plentiful and excellent quality food required attention; so work today started with a stairmaster work-out regime of an hour and a half. To be truthful, I didn’t insist on one long drudge. Instead, we arranged to give everyone moments of respite during the exercise, and arranged for the most spectacular panoramic view in the archipelago to build with quiet intensity with each short break. The reward for the effort was to stand on top of Bartolomé Island just off the eastern coast of Santiago Island, and look out around at the blue Pacific Ocean. The huge expanse was broken by islands both large and small in earth-tone hues overlaid by light green. Calm, flat waters in the lee of Bartolomé Island, the pinnacle standing free and clear, pointing into the sky. Spatter cones, tuff cones and cinder lay scattered on the barren surface. In the distance to the south, whale spouts were spotted, unfortunately too far to attempt by Zodiac for a closer look and possible identification.
Our exercise program had us leaving once more after breakfast to cross a sand dune to explore the far side. On return, the placid waters of Bartolomé’s golden beach beckoned, and the plunge felt exquisite. Mullet, surgeonfish, triggerfish, damselfish, sharks and penguins. Penguins? And they were racing today. We worked off the mudslide-cookies-to-come just trying to keep up. Most of the juvenile grunts and sardines escaped, but the slow were picked off by these black-and-whites in acrobatic manoeuvres that put the frigate’s abilities to shame.
In keeping with the hard work schedule, hard-core swimmers, beach-goers and snorkelers went ashore in the afternoon one last time at Puerto Egas, James Island. Penguins again! In an unexpected encounter, two penguins, one adult and one juvenile, were hanging out on the rocks, seemingly content to watch the pelican and blue-footed boobies do the more energetic work of catching fish.
The grand finale was the coastal trail in late, low light and moody clouds, and was a total success. Whimbrels, ruddy turnstones, oystercatchers, wandering tattlers accompanied marine iguanas, sea lions and fur seals.
I love my job.
