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Main | Journal: Galapagos | ||
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Galapagos: The Final Cut Friday, August 6 Deep Breath...ahhhhhhh
After spending what will turn out to be exactly six eye-opening months
in a land that I have developed a special place in my heart for, I will
be returning to the same place from where it all began. (In advance, I
would like to apologize for all the sap and sentimentality that might
be detectable in this message, but since I AM the writer, editor, AND
publisher of whatever this has been, I will continue to print what I
see as fit for your eyes.) Yes, I am scheduled to land in Boston on
Monday evening and will do my best to avoid any sort of hysterics often
observed upon the return of many long-term travelers. Yes, this is it.
Yes, I will be actually coming home. No more of the twenty-hour bus
trips over back country terrain. No more of having to put the toilet
paper in the garbage can instead of the toilet. And, no more of having
to write these time-consuming messages to my friends and family. (Just
kidding there.) Indeed, I am finally 100% ready to return to the land
of real football, school shootings and regulation pool tables.
Thus, this will likely be my last message coming to you live from South
America, but I plan on preparing an obnoxiously-long closure message
that will include my thoughts on what I have learned--call it a thesis,
if you like. However, that is not all. I thank those of you (Mom and
Dad) who have responded with such positive feedback about these
messages and if you are at all interested in continuing this
relationship, please let me know and I will be happy to keep you
updated regarding the intricacies of my next life such as how my golf
swing is improving, how many times a day I am watching Sportscenter,
how many trips to the kitchen I am making per hour and other equally
exciting tales. Otherwise, you will have to wait roughly
three-and-a-half years until my business school applications are
finished so that I will be able to execute my tentative plan to learn
Portuguese on the beaches of Brazil, to attend another Carnaval as a
native speaker and to explore the vast lands of Central America. That
is, unless I actually get something published related to this
trip--then you will be the first people to know about it.
Okay, okay, so you are probably anxious to hear about the Galapagos, so
I will give you the lowdown, tell you what I saw, and later, show you
the pictures to see if I can justify this $850 expenditure as a tax
write-off related to whatever future employment I may undertake. The
six-month toll of this trip clearly bore itself out in that I was
completely willing to shell out the money for the tour without any
investigation whatsoever of the boat that I reserved. Of course, the
boat, the guide, and the crew make or break the whole experience so I
was just hoping that Touchdown Jesus was on my side for a change.
Fortunately, I arrived to sunny skies, a smiling guide, and an
impressively manicured boat--almost new. I was joined by a few
Americans, Israelis, Germans, French, and the son of the owner of the
boat. My ear was constantly adjusting to the different languages
spoken--I even picked up a few useful German insults along the way.
Immaculately conceived, the boat appeared to be a smaller version of
those I have seen motoring around the Caribbean. At first glance, all
seemed to be perfect...
Onto the stories. Although the water was surprising cold, we were
taken out for snorkeling on several occasions. I committed to going
every time to extract the maximum value from this trip--whether my
limbs were numbed by the icy-cold water was of no importance. The
first snorkeling expedition turned out as being the most talked-about
aspect of the trip. Like the idiot I typically become in mind-numbing
seawater--other stories too horrific for the full audience will be
shared in person at a later time--I swam ahead of the others, joining
me was a maniac Israeli, and we approached what turned out to be a baby
sea lion at a distance quite ideal to look into its mouth but not quite
ideal if you want to avoid the wrath of it. Our guide assured us that
sea lions NEVER, EVER bite people, and since the whole point of going
to the Galapagos is that the animals are shy and allow close contact, I
figured that no harm could possibly come of it. (Again, remember the
affects of the freezing water.) Well, no sooner were we less than ten
feet away from the baby when the papa started causing a big fuss.
Unfortunately, none of us were yet fluent in sea lion, and were unable
to know that he was really pissed off. Like a shot through a cannon,
the big daddy rocketed through the water, right past me, and what
ensued shortly thereafter were screams coming from near the small motor
boat that brought us out to the snorkeling site. What happened was
that the massive sea lion chose the smallest girl in the water as his
warning shot and sent her into hysterics by taking three healthy bites
out of her rear. Then, the little boat sped off with the victim,
leaving me and a few of the others alone with an angry colony of sea
lions. Fortunately, nothing else happened, except for the fact that I
was a bit bothered by what had just happened and that I did not think I
could sit there and tread water for very much longer. Finally, the
little boat came back for us as I was about to go under and took us
back to help comfort our fallen comrade. Believe me, it was not a
pretty sight as she writhed in agony until she was finally taken to the
nearest doctor, on some tiny, nearby island. Later, I found out that
the doctor on-call was completely obliterated and could not have
possibly administered a branch of the Bolivian government, let alone a
tetanus injection. But all was well in the end as our girl was the
fifteenth person to be bitten by a sea lion in the history of the
Galapagos. Needless to say, I took the advice of the guide with a
grain of salt from thereon in.
Boobies. Yes, one of the star attractions of the islands is a species
of birds called boobies. They come in different flavors such as
blue-footed, red-footed, and masked. For me, the highlight of the
trip, was a visit to the island most-inhabitated with animal life,
called Espanola. There, we encountered hundreds of blue-footed boobies
doing there mating ritual which is wildly entertaining. First, the
relatively small, male creature calls attention to the female by making
a shrill, high-pitched sound. Then, once she is captivated by that, he
spreads his feathers in some sort of manly exercise to impress the one
he wishes to court. Finally, he does the booby dance, similar to the
dance I witnessed at the Inti Raymi Festival in Cusco, the male birds
also shifted their weight from their left foot to their right. The
female watched all of this quietly, nearly amused, and then rendered
her decision. Often, another male would begin his call shortly after
another had finished. Usually, the female would turn her back on the
male who had just tried to woo her in order to compare him with the
next. Mating was the underlying theme of the visit to Espanola.
However, the colorful marine iguanas dispatched with the pleasantries
and got right down to business. These iguanas littered the island--I
had to be careful not to step on one. To me, they had a human-like
quality as they made their daily journey from the warm, dry top of the
cliff that we were standing on, to the small iguana pool that was
formed by some sort of inlet near the coast. They would merrily jump
from a few feet after an ardous climb down the cliff, one that I would
not likely attempt just to cool off. Also, on that island, we found
the awkward-flying albatrosses, which were among the biggest birds
around. Frigate birds, large black birds with red chests, swooped
impressively into the water in a sort of kamikaze-style drop, for a few
fish now and then. The swallowtail gulls, smaller birds that also
spent much of their time focused on finding some grub, hopped very near
our group. And one of my favorites, were the tiny finches, that
exhibited no fear, hopping smartly at our feet, moving their heads
neurotically, scoping out their surroundings. These same birds could
be found weaving in and out of the sea lion colony while we were
somewhat petrified to disturb those beastly but often sleepy
animals--the little finches were not bothered in the least.
Marine life was abundant in several places. While snorkeling, I
encountered a six-foot, white-tip shark. He swam about ten feet from
me but did not seem to mind my presence too much. Swimming through
several interesting rock formations, I found schools of brightly
colored fish and a few loners just trying to avoid the wrath of their
rulers. On my final snorkeling trip, the water was numbing my feet
after barely five minutes, but seeing a sting ray floating along the
bottom made the effort worthwhile. On our return to the main port, we
spotted a school of dolphins popping out of the water from time to
time. A few minutes later, I could see one swimming with our boat,
weaving in and out of the line we were headed on, like a game of
chicken. I knew that I was witnessing something special when the
dolphins swam just below the surface of the water, and I could get a
good look into their eyes. That dolphin escort capped a wonderful
experience, one that will stand out from many of the other weeks I have
spent here.
Unless something unforeseen happens, I should be home in a few days.
Loaded down with twelve rolls of film from the last two months of my
trip, I will have plenty to accompany my wealth of stories from the
past six months. If anyone else wants to get in touch, please send an
e-mail with a phone number and I will see you soon.
Dan
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