Isabela and Fernandina
I had warned everyone the night before that it was possible the “optional” wake-up call to see Roca Redonda would turn into something different. Close after daybreak the Polaris made her approach to this magnificent piece of stratified lava, a remnant of a much larger volcano that once formed north of Isabela Island in deep waters. Seabirds were awake and already busy foraging on or above the ocean: Audubon’s shearwaters, Galápagos storm petrels, red-billed tropicbirds, Nazca boobies, magnificent frigatebirds, brown noddy terns; everyone was doing something, and we were watching. We hadn’t even gotten as close as planned, when a pod of bottle-nosed dolphins made their appearance and headed straight for the bow. When an even larger pod was spotted close by, I made the decision that everyone could sleep at some later point in their lives, and used the main public address system to let them know what lay ahead. What a thrill! There must have been at least a hundred or so, and all seemed interested in taking their own joy ride off our bow. We circled a few times, and each return was rewarded with the sight of these fun-loving marine mammals curving towards the ship. Some very young dolphins also practised their bow-riding skills alongside their mothers, much to our awe.
More dolphins showed up just in time to escort us over the equator line. Obviously King Neptune’s doing, to make sure our younger guests went through the appropriate initiation rites to change from pollywogs to shellbacks. These dolphins, however, were of another species known as common dolphins, though common in these waters they are not. They had gathered into a superpod of over one thousand beings, and sailed through the air by the dozens, flashing the identifying hourglass design on their flanks.
Flightless cormorants, fur seals, iguanas and mola molas finished the morning. Black hard lava, penguins, marine turtles, nesting cormorants and marine iguanas by the dozens completed the afternoon.
I had warned everyone the night before that it was possible the “optional” wake-up call to see Roca Redonda would turn into something different. Close after daybreak the Polaris made her approach to this magnificent piece of stratified lava, a remnant of a much larger volcano that once formed north of Isabela Island in deep waters. Seabirds were awake and already busy foraging on or above the ocean: Audubon’s shearwaters, Galápagos storm petrels, red-billed tropicbirds, Nazca boobies, magnificent frigatebirds, brown noddy terns; everyone was doing something, and we were watching. We hadn’t even gotten as close as planned, when a pod of bottle-nosed dolphins made their appearance and headed straight for the bow. When an even larger pod was spotted close by, I made the decision that everyone could sleep at some later point in their lives, and used the main public address system to let them know what lay ahead. What a thrill! There must have been at least a hundred or so, and all seemed interested in taking their own joy ride off our bow. We circled a few times, and each return was rewarded with the sight of these fun-loving marine mammals curving towards the ship. Some very young dolphins also practised their bow-riding skills alongside their mothers, much to our awe.
More dolphins showed up just in time to escort us over the equator line. Obviously King Neptune’s doing, to make sure our younger guests went through the appropriate initiation rites to change from pollywogs to shellbacks. These dolphins, however, were of another species known as common dolphins, though common in these waters they are not. They had gathered into a superpod of over one thousand beings, and sailed through the air by the dozens, flashing the identifying hourglass design on their flanks.
Flightless cormorants, fur seals, iguanas and mola molas finished the morning. Black hard lava, penguins, marine turtles, nesting cormorants and marine iguanas by the dozens completed the afternoon.
