Thursday, April 17

We hauled ourselves out of bed way too early – but not as early as we would have to have turned out if we hadn’t been given a card from Metropolitan Touring (the company running the Galápagos cruise on the Santa Cruz) at check-in. This card stated that Metropolitan Touring would pick us up at the hotel at 7:45 AM to take us to the airport. Since we had not anticipated that Metropolitan Touring would assume responsibility for our transportation until we reached the airport, we had (given our caution about schedules) planned to leave the hotel at 7:15 AM. So this card granted us an extra half hour of sleep.

At 7 AM, we went downstairs for breakfast. The hotel had set out a beautiful buffet. It could have fed a hundred guests, but only one or two other tables were occupied. Overall, the Sheraton was a very nice hotel worked out great, except that two phone calls to the bell desk were unable to elicit a porter to bring our five large bags downstairs. Also, both the check-in and check-out processes were extremely lengthy. Much information that had already been collected with our reservation was re-requested and recompiled. One further twist that I had not previously seen was that at check-out, we were given a slip by the desk clerk to turn in to the bell desk (about 20 feet away) when we took our baggage out of the hotel. I guess it was their way of ensuring that guests can’t remove baggage without first having paid their bill.

We were met in the lobby by a very competent representative from Metropolitan Touring and placed in a van for the airport. I immediately noticed that everyone seemed to have far less luggage than we did – but more about this (much) later. Many of the bags had INTRAV tags (an very ritzy travel agency), and most seemed to belong to people who boasted an average age of 70. At the airport, all Galápagos baggage was inspected by a park representative for forbidden items (generally plants, animals and bombs). It was then sealed shut and given over to TAME airlines. Numerous vendors formed a gauntlet around our line of passengers waiting to pass through security. One of them had my number – a map seller. I would have bitten if he had had a Galápagos map. But he was only selling Ecuador maps – both our loss.

The TAME plane was a very nice B727-200 – with open seating. To ensure that families with small children would have a fighting chance at sitting together, they employed the same method used to protect the elite runners in world-class marathon, they gave people with kids a position at the head of the scrum before they opened the door to tarmac. We, along with the infirm and the other passengers with kids, then half walked, half trotted out to the plane – pushed by the cresting wave of all the other passengers behind us.

TAME uses both fore and aft stairs to board the plane. Southwest Airlines would have been proud about how fast it was completed. The flight to Guayaquil took only about 40 minutes from pushback to landing (no conga lines for takeoff or landing). But even on such a short flight, TAME still served a sandwich and a beverage. The Guayaquil airport looks pretty basic – but a huge Antonov cargo plane was loading, so that provided some interest while we waited out the stopover. We were on the ground for a bit more than an hour. As seems the routine, you are supposed to stay in your seat while security comes through and associates each carry-on with a passenger, and verifies that you are on the manifest for the next leg.

My tooth continued to bother me – and because Guayaquil is at sea level, I could no longer attribute it to altitude. This is just where I didn’t want to need to receive any medical/dental attention. I had been to the dentist for a checkup just 3½ weeks earlier. How could something be wrong now? I still hoped the pain could be due to the residual effects of the altitude. By the way, how do you work the cabin pressurization on an airplane (which is usually pressurized to about 6000 feet) for an airport located at 9500 feet? In addition, I assume that a 727 doesn’t have the most modern cabin pressurization system.

A good number of new passengers boarded at Guayaquil. A large number were destined for the Galápagos Aggressors – dive boats – which reduced the flight’s average passenger age by a substantial amount. The flight to Baltra took off full. On this hour and 40 minute leg, a complete meal was served. I didn’t eat anything – my stomach was upset due to my anxiety over the tooth. But Eric ate some the beef brochette – a real surprise coming from him. As we were descending to land on a rather desolate Baltra island, Barbara and Jeffrey claimed to see a giant tortoise. I don’t believe them. There are no tortoises on Baltra, so it was probably a rock.

Once on the ground, we were herded into the so-called “VIP Lounge” at the airport terminal. There, we were lined up to pay our $100 per person Galápagos National Park entrance fee – cash only. Times 150 people on the plane, that is a serious cash collection. At least Jeffrey was only $50 because he was under 12. Refreshments were served in the lounge while we waited for the TAME shuttle buses to appear. Because I was still worried about my tooth, I decided to see if I could score some antibiotic and painkiller in Puerto Ayora – just in case.

We finally boarded a TAME bus that was also transporting two large police dogs that had been shipped out the islands on our flight. This bus needed only to take us the short distance to the Itabaca channel separating Baltra island from Santa Cruz island. The road crossed scrub and cactus growing right out of cracks in the lava boulders. Although the island was flat, desolate and deserted, the road followed a very zig-zag path. I don’t know the reason. The Itabaca channel is a beautiful azure color. Given the heat of the sun, we all wanted to jump directly into the water.

After crossing on a ferry powered by a large outboard, we loaded onto another bus for the drive across the highlands of Santa Cruz to Puerto Ayora. The scenery was not terribly interesting. At the lower elevations, all that you see are leafless dormant trees. They look extremely eerie. But the vegetation changes as we go up and down in altitude. The lowlands are dry and the highlands are lush, or at least lusher. We passed several farms and villages as we crossed over the top and descended toward Puerto Ayora. There are a number of BellSouth signs along the road (BellSouth has one of the two cellular franchises in Ecuador). I find this annoying, but I am comforted by the likelihood that they, as nearly all competitive telecom carriers in South (and North) America, are losing their shirts.

As we rolled into downtown Puerto Ayora, we passed the Farmacia Vanessa about two blocks from the central square. Upon reaching this square, the bus turned along Academy Bay and continued for what seemed to be about a mile past a line of tee shirt shops into the Charles Darwin Research Center. Parking here, we left our carry-on bags that we had kept with us on the bus – but not my backpack which, in addition to two still cameras plus a video camera, was laden with the portable DVD player that we brought to occupy the kids and (forgotten by me – but not for long) a number of juice boxes.

Lugging this burden, we walked for about ½ mile into the Darwin Center to its tortoise corrals. They are huge dinosauric animals. If you ignore the carapace in the middle of their bodies, and just focus on their head and legs, you see the relentless slowly bobbing head of a feeding brontosaurus dipping into its feed of leaves and pulling back to chew. The massive size and thick elephantine hide of their legs, and their slow leg by leg gait give the same impression. While watching them, we learned a lot about how they live, eat, (and to the boys’ great interest) excrete. The presentation also provided information about how the Darwin Center collects these tortoises (a number of them were once house pets) and breeds them and raises their young for eventual repatriation back to their home islands (each island has its own subspecies which are kept genetically pure). The only exception to this policy of racial purity is the Center’s most famous resident, Lonesome George. George was the last of his subspecies collected on Pinta island. Thus, he has been encouraged to at least raise a family of half-breeds. But so far, he has declined all of the offered female blandishments. Since he is believed to be only about 75 years of age, he has another 50 to 75 years of opportunity.

Upon finishing our tour, we began the hot dusty walk into the setting sun back to the center of Puerto Ayora to reclaim our carry-ons and to board the boat. While walking, we began to discern the real purpose of the many Darwin Center pickup trucks that repeatedly passed and re-passed us, both heading into and out of the Center. What was the purpose of all of these trucks and their continuous back and forth motion? They didn’t seem to be carrying anything, and the Darwin Center seemed to be too small an institution to justify this vast number of apparently unproductive vehicles. The answer became clear when one of them was flagged down by an elderly tourist. Sure, hop right in, your bags, too, we’ll take you back to the center of Puerto Ayora – or anyplace else – tips work fine for us! Thus, acting as an informal, but not unpaid, taxis along the tourist path in and out of the Center appears to be an off-the-books activity for the motor vehicle stock of the Darwin Center and their drivers.

Reaching, all of us by foot, the center of Puerto Ayora, I left Mom, Barbara and the kids at a café for a cold drink, while I headed up the street to the Farmacia Vanessa. After writing the words “amoxicillin” and “acetaminophen 3” on a piece of paper and pointing the to the box labeled “amoxicilina” on the shelf behind the counter, I was rewarded with 20 amoxicillin capsules and 20 acetaminophen with codeine painkillers. For those of you afraid of third world medicines, both of these items came sealed in individual capsule blister packs with the name of the medication and its manufacturer printed on the foil backing. How does that compare with the U.S. process of trusting that the pills that the pharmacist pours out of a big bottle, counts by hand and spills into a small bottle are really what you wanted? For this stash, I paid only the gringo price of $14 – no prescription, 100% copay and no nonsense. If I hadn’t been wearing the ship’s identification button on my shirt, I’m sure the price would have been less by about half. With my spirits lifted and my tooth suddenly aching less, I went on to a small grocery store and bought a couple of 2 liter soda bottles before heading back to the café where I had left the others.

We then walked across the square to the dock where the pangas were ferrying passengers out to our ship. The M/N Santa Cruz’s pangas are Zodiacs that are about 18 or 20 feet long with a 40 hp Mercury outboard. You sit on the side pontoons facing the middle of the boat. Tightly filled, the total capacity is about 16 to 18 people. Riders in the front of the boat receive a fair amount of spray. As we made our way out to the entrance of the bay where the Santa Cruz was anchored, we passed a large number of boats, most of them pretty decrepit – even some of the ones not inexpensively listed in tour brochures. As we closed on the Santa Cruz, she too didn’t seem very polished, but our first impressions were to change.

The first adventure was transferring from the panga to the stairway running down the side of the ship. This necessitated using a stool to step up onto the top of the rubber pontoon, and then to step over to the lower landing of the stairway. Although you first grab the arm of a boatman to stabilize you for the step up onto the stool and pitching pontoon, and then grab the arm of another boatman standing on the landing for your transfer step over to the landing, it never feels very secure. Given the swell in the water that afternoon, I think this first (of many, many) transfers gave a number of the older passengers pause.

Once at the top of the stairway and into the ship, its appearance changes. The hull in need of a slightly spiffier paint job gives way to an interior reception area of teak and brass. This rich theme continued down into our cabins on the deck below. Although the cabins were fairly small, they supply all the necessary conveniences – and the bathrooms are definitely a cut above the typical marine plumbing. The one drawback is that both rooms lack an abundance of clothes drawers – but they do have extensive storage space under the beds where partially filled duffle bags can be stored. I drew the short straw and am bunking in the quad with Eric and Jeffrey. Barbara and Mom share the neighboring twin.

We weighed anchor at about 6 PM, and at 7 PM had an orientation meeting in the lounge. The ship is almost full, with about 85 out of its 90 passenger capacity occupied. We were introduced to the crew (the officers, really) and the naturalist guides, and received a complimentary Pisco sour – appreciated by all. A sheet is placed in each stateroom in the early evening that provides the schedule for the following day. Tonight, we have a fairly long cruise (over mostly open water) from Puerto Ayora to Tagus Cove on the western side of Isabela island. As we are dismissed to the dining room at 8 PM, the swell is already starting to pick up – and a ship that is about 230 feet long still does roll. Dinner was very good, but the boys are very tired, and, just prior to dessert, both they and I departed for the cabin. It is late, it has been a very long two days, and the swaying is not improving anyone’s digestion. They fell asleep almost instantly – thank god we have two upper bunks, otherwise the contention between the two of them for the upper would have been unbearable. I lay down, still in my clothes, and am out like a light. About an hour or two later, I awoke, traded my clothes for pajamas, and quickly fell back to sleep.

Tortoises -- Darwin Research Center

Dining Room of Santa Cruz