RIDING AND TRAMPING THROUGH A MOON LANDSCAPE; SAILING TO ISLA SANTA CRUZ
Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz Island, The Galapagos, Ecuador, Sunday, 07 May 2006

On Thursday last, Kathleen, Andrew and I take part in an organised tour to the largest still-active volcano in The Galapagos Islands. For us, organised tours are a rarity; it’s simply too expensive and we generally do our sightseeing on our own. This has been the case even in Puerto Villamil up until now (we did join a tour of several sights on Isla San Cristobal, however.) Bret, the skipper of the Australian yacht Interlude III, however, organised a guide for a trip to Sierra Negra crater.

Along with the same Norwegians we toured with before, Rune and Idunn and their twin 6-year-old girls from S/V Blue Marlin, Henrietta and Ben from S/V Uterus, Chris and Karen of S/V Magic Carpet, were also along Rob and his wife from the American yacht, S/V Orinoco Flow, we all met on the beach at 0800 where “Minino” (aka Afredo) met us with a passenger van and driver. We had been warned to bring a packed lunch and water, long trousers for the horseback portion of the trip, stout shoes for the hiking and lots of energy for the whole enterprise.

Minino, about 50, speaks excellent English having attended an American elementary school in Guayaquil before eventually emigrating to the islands. He has a warm personality and clearly loves The Galapagos and Isla Isabela. You could feel this in the way he talked about the plants, birds, and geological features all through the tour. He said his wife wonders that he doesn’t get bored doing the same tours over and over again. “But, I never get tired of it,” he says. “I love it!”

The van takes us out of town after a quick stop at a bakery for Reiseproviente. Clearly there is a building boom going on in Puerto Villamil: cinderblock bungalows are being erected on the black lava flows on the outskirts of town. These houses look solid and clean. No gardens, of course, only black lava. I wonder the houses aren’t a bit warm when the sun shines.

Soon we are on a broad gravel road and heading across the coastal lava plains where there are plenty of lava tunnels, and then beginning to climb to more fertile levels. There are fruit farms or plantations left and right including Minino’s own 50 acres of avocado trees, which he points out with some pride as we drive by. The island’s prosperity is indicated by the fact that most of the vehicles we see, though admittedly not all that many out here in the sticks, are modern and clean. Moreover the road, although gravel, is very broad and there was a heavy grader and dump trucks working to even out the washboard effects.

Still climbing, the road becomes narrower, the fruit plantations disappear and we eventually turn into dirt road and stop near a couple of pavilions and a long hitching rail where some thirty saddle ponies are standing. We are assigned horses and helped into the saddle. I am aboard a small brown mare. Not that there are many lead horses. These ponies are selected for tourists. But we strike off with Minino aboard a spirited gelding and a vaquero bringing up the rear and urging the bored ponies along. My mare is basically a follower, and positions herself just behind any other horse unless she is slow enough to drop back in the pack to where the vaquero is tsking at the horses and whirling his rope in the air. When she hears these she takes off at a canter until she gets far enough ahead to be out of reach of the cowboy. Then she slows down and nothing I do or say has any impact on her whatsoever.

We ride for roughly an hour and a half, the last portion being along the ridge surrounding the south side of the caldera. Sierra Negra last erupted on 22 October 2005. We can see steam or smoke still rising out of fissures in the huge pot of black and hardened lava but otherwise it is a black and corrugated moonscape surrounded by a high green lip. The caldera must be about two miles or more across and circular. It is all black except for yellow slashes here and there, a sign of sulphur deposits, of which there is apparently quite a bit. There was even a sulphur mining operation in the caldera at one point before the last eruption.

At a certain point we leave the horses behind under a big tree with the vaquero in attendance and begin the hiking portion of the trip. There are other parties about, some of whom have done the whole thing as a walking tour. More power to them! We descend down the outside of the northeastern lip onto petrified sheets and flows of black lava. This portion overflows at regular intervals and lessen the pressure on the main crater. You can clearly see where the hot flows cooled off and there are huge gas-formed holes from which, if there is any moisture around, steam emanates, and inside the lip of which ferns grow in a hothouse environment. There are lots of lava tunnels (the outside cools while the molten lava keeps flowing down hill. In the end the tunnel is empty) and small holes where you can insert your hand and feel the heat of the earth’s bowels.

The hike is across open, treeless terrain and rough underfoot. We stop for lunch when we reach a pinnacle of lava with a fine view to the Elizabeth Bay on the western side of the island, and to Isla Fernadina out there in the haze. To the south and east you can see down to the town whence we have come this morning and out to other islands. A cool SE breeze makes it possible to sit on the warm black basalt lava and eat our sandwiches.

We strike back without much stopping. Everyone is getting tired from hopping up and down steps. We still have the horseback ride ahead of us, and we are all a bit stiff in the thighs already. When we arrive at the rendezvous we are soon booted, saddled and on the way again. Somehow, the return trip seems much longer. After the trip back in the van, the group is a lot quieter than they were this morning. We reach the beach at the anchorage at about 1600. A BBQ is planned amongst the cruisers in the little palapa that evening. So we stay right there until we have spent a pleasant evening with the eclectic group of Europeans and Australians and Norteamericanos. It is nice and we enjoy the children present as well.

After finding out that the immigration office in Puerto Ayora is open on Saturdays, we scrape up enough cash to send Andrew on a snorkelling trip by panga with other cruisers on Friday. He comes back tired after two very active and physical days about 1500 and we get the dinghy stowed and the boat ready to depart for a 42 Nm overnighter to Isla Santa Cruz.

Sailing to Santa Cruz

There have been SE and SW winds all day and we are eager to be able to sail rather than motor or motorsail. Andrew gets the anchor and sails up and we ghost out of the anchorage. Many of our new friends come out on their decks to wish us a good trip and promise to see each other “downwind.”

By dark we are out of the channel and heading towards Tortuga Island. The wind is right on the nose again, however, and soon we are motorsailing. The alternator, of course, is not producing any electricity and we wonder if we shall be able to find Miguel in San Cristobal who was supposed to have fixed this problem before we left there.

We run the engine at a gentle speed that will bring us off the mouth of the harbour at Puerto Ayora just at dawn. Any wind disappears. Fortunately the sky stays relatively unclouded until quite late in the night, and the stars provide their usual ready reference points. But it is very damp and dewy and we get drops running off the big mainsail. It is not cold but we are glad to have a fleece jacket; as usual we also share our one pair of fleece trousers with the following watchperson.

Puerto Ayora is a much smaller and much busier port than Baquerizo Moreno (San Cristobal) or Puerto Villamil (Isla Isabela). This is a real tourist town and the largest community on the islands. In the best spots behind the somewhat sheltering reef are the tour boats and charter sailing schooners, catamarans etc. while the cruising boats are left to bob and roll on the other side, exposed to the swells that come right in from the sea. Most of the boats in both spots are stern-anchored to keep them facing into the swells. As we come in we spot S/V Morova out of British Columbia. We last saw Al in Acapulco with his two young crew members, Lydia and Kelsey, from Vancouver. As we putt-putt by them we shout out to Al to wake up. No response.

We skimmy through the scattering of boats and find a place amongst the commercial boats behind the reef. The rolling is still there, but it is slight at first because the SE breeze points us into the swells. Later in the day we roll fairly badly but it is not worse than being at sea so we don’t worry about things too much.

We all hit the sack until mid-morning when we hail a panga taxi and head to shore. The landing dock is modern and built with some flair. The whole town looks new and polished and Puerto Ayora is clearly a much more touristy place than the other towns we have seen here.

We make a bee-line to the Policia and Andrew goes in to tell them that he has just arrived by yacht from the U.S.A. and will be flying home on Monday via Guayaquil. Kathleen and I wait around the corner wondering if this is going to work. But without an entrada stamp in his passport, Andrew might have trouble getting a salida stamp at Guayaquil aeroporto. After a few questions the immigration official stamps his passport and gives him a 90-day visa. (T3 Tourist card). He leaves on Monday morning from nearby Baltra Island and we shall up anchor and head out to mainland Ecuador on the same day with a possible stop in San Cristobal to see the electrician.

On Saturday night we have very nice dinner ashore with Al, Lydia and Kelsey. The girls are jumping ship, so to speak, and are continuing their travelling by other means. Al will be getting a young married couple as crew from here to the Marquesas. So this is by way of being also a farewell dinner. Very jolly. Andrew stays out with Al and the girls until 0200 and is looking a little the worse for wear this morning.

Nevertheless, we all go ashore for lunch today. Andrew’s treat. At the internet shop we also call Ruben Kremers, a 17-year-old from Germany whom we knew as a small child. He is living temporarily in Guayaquil and it is now arranged for Andrew to spend the night with him. We also were able to reach Tony in San Cristobal and, if we get there on Monday, Miguel the electrician will come out to the boat and get our alternator charging again before we leave. Then our plan is to head out on Tuesday or Wednesday.