A tour of Santa Cruz Island and trip to Floreana Island

Santa Cruz, Galapagos---It read like a tumultuous, seedy, romance novel; the Baroness and her two love partners, a crazy nudist doctor, a family trying to survive on a nearly deserted island, rumors, mystery… yet we were only reading my travel guide to Ecuador and the Galapagos produced by Moon publishing, on a tour to the island Floreana.

Black moss from the trees look a lot like Jake's beard

Thinking the boat I had crewed on was going to be leaving for Tahiti and I would spend a week alone in the Galapagos, I arranged five tours of Santa Cruz and the islands surrounding it.

But since the my friends didn't leave, I decided to see the Highlands of Santa Cruz with them. And here I saw my first enormous Galapagos tortoise, two twin sink holes and a Lava tunnel cave. All amazing.

A sink hole

 

Land Turtles cooling off

Entrance to the Lava Tunnel

Then, Shannon from the crew and I took off to Floreana, a two hour speeding boat ride away. With our time we thought we'd read about what we were going to see and came across the information about some early settlers, who shocked us both by the sorted information in the book.

 However, once we were there, NOTHING was said of this, I guess it's not the image the tourist department wants to send. Instead we saw more huge turtles, hiked through a cactus forest, ate some authentic food and snorkeled in the roughest seas I'd ever been in. Again like the Caribbean, no American firm would dare let tourists off their boat in these conditions or at least not without signing a long legal waiver. Here, caution is thrown to the wind, or the seas and all they told us was don't hit the rocks protruding up from the bay near the breaking waves we were to snorkel. So, off we went to see the floor of the ocean stirring wildly but I counted at least five huge sea turtles swimming around below us. It was wonderful.

Later in town, Shannon found a book written by one of these settlers; Floreana by Margret Wittmer. We both bought a copy. Maybe the mysteries will be answered. Maybe not. I know these islands hold more secrets than just those that started happening in 1932.

The Enchanting World of Charles Darwin: the Galapagos

Santa Cruz, Galapagos---How can I find the words to fully describe these islands? How can I explain the feelings that such a place evokes? I don’t think I can. I do know in retrospect, that I can’t imagine my life lived without having been here. It is that special.

Once we arrived and went ashore, processing the boat with customs and immigration was a bit confusing. The captain had been here before and we had been advised of the policy that a boat could re-provision with a 24 hour stay with no fees. But either we fell into a scam or that has changed, needless to say, the boat had to pay the fees and the scramble to get me disembarked from the yacht was not an issue as once thought. And, being that the boat had to pay the fees anyway, the captain decided they could stay for three days.

During all this we ended up with an agent named Johnny. Diesel can only be bought through an agent if you are not a local. Assistance was needed for water and paperwork processing. I was fortunate that his agency also represented tours on the island as well as travel in Ecuador. I had been told wrong information from a Galapagos travel agent I had contacted; I can pay a one-way ticket off the island with a letter from the agent explaining I had arrived on a yacht. Information that non-yacht travel agents don’t seem to know.

Though the agency, I got a hotel room for $25 per night and it included breakfast! So I moved off the boat and had hot showers and air conditioning for the first time in months. The crew used it as a central place to meet on land…and a few hot showers themselves.

Johnny had been a tour guide before starting his business and was a wealth of information.

After a few days, the captain extended when they were leaving by another day, then another, then another. All-in-all, they stayed the same amount of time as I did and we had great fun seeing the sites and talking about what we had seen each night. Each one of us longed to stay on, to see more. It seemed like every day brought a new amazing sight, something around each corner that was only to be seen here, in the Galapagos. A world somewhat locked in time and struggling to stay that way.

From Slimmy Pollywog to Trusty Shellback

Pacific Ocean---Today I Crossed the Line.

In Panama we knew we were heading towards the Galapagos which meant crossing the Equator Line, something I had always wanted to do. We Googled traditions of crossing the equator for the first time. Turns out that we would go from "Slimmy Pollywogs" (Wogs for short)  to "Trusty Shellbacks" at that moment. It's a good thing we were not on a military ship because their traditions sound very much like a College Greek house hazing ceremony. Tradition, initiation, ceremony are more accepted words in the Military now due to the 1997 instruction, which reemphasized the Navy’s zero-tolerance policy for hazing and explained that ‘crossing-the-line’ ceremonies are only meant to celebrate and recognize the achievements of individual Sailors. Sure.

But for OUR occasion Shannon and I were determined to celebrate it. The problem was, we had no idea what time of day we would actually pass the line. One sure thing about sailing is you never know what time you will arrive anywhere. But as the countdown got closer, we knew we were lucky. We did not have to crawl out of bed at 3am for a silly ceremony. Since we were all exhausted by waking at all hours to go on watch anyway, to do it as an extra activity? Well we knew we would never be able to drag either Jake or Andy up. But alas! the line was getting closer and the estimated time was predicted to be close to 7pm!

Perfect.

As our tiny boat rocked amidst the vast sea and the sun set on a moonlit sparkling ocean we checked the GPS like checking voice mail for the love of your life. We knew that the actual crossing of a 50 foot boat would last a second. Maybe two.

Shannon wrote a speech to Neptune, god of the sea. We all wrote wishes on pieces of paper, ready to be thrown into the sea. The skipper promised beer, which was UNHEARD OF during a passage, and rum was readied to be pored into the sea as another token to the Sea God.

Our Equator Celebration at Sea...and 3 new Trusty Shellbacks

The GPS ticked down and Shannon and I put dresses on for the occasion, out dressing the men by a significant amounts of style as always. Then, the moment came, I quickly scooped up some ocean water, beers were popped, Shannon read her thoughts to Neptune, papers baring our wishes were launched overboard and a toast to the Sea was made, thankful for safe passage. Our Skipper, a three-time Shellback, gave a fine speech to us and our "Wog" abilities and proving ourselves to be sea worthy.

 
Someone once wrote, "The sea is eternal, they say, and so are the traditions that accompany it. As long as there are imaginary lines by which we travel, we will attach a special significance to crossing over them---a significance which also bonds the crew together in a way few things can."

And yes, I will always have a bond with this crew and that tiny space in time. March 23, 2011, 7:31pm PST. The time Jake, Shannon and I became Trusty Shellbacks.

The Pacific passage

Pacific Ocean---I could not have asked for a more peaceful sail from Panama to the Galapagos Islands. The Pacific Ocean was truly passive. For sailors who only like the adrenaline rush of going fast on one rail, this was not the week for them. But for my last passage of this year at sea, an agreeable ocean and light winds was perfect. Memories of the occasional visit from a pod of dolphin, or a sea turtle bobbing up for a gulp of air; the two Gray Boobie birds that hitched a ride overnight, one on the solar panel and the other on our headsail’s pole; having a full moon set and the sun rise in the span of one night watch, or a green flash as the setting sun bids farewell. All these experiences are topped by the anticipation we had, like children on Christmas Eve, during the countdown towards crossing the Equator.

Seeing the Galapagos appear in the distance on day seven was putting 800 miles behind us. As soon as we got near we knew this was a place unlike any other as a seal swam by on one side of the boat, a huge sea turtle cruised by on the other and prehistoric looking birds with enormous wing spans floated motionless high above us as we entered the harbor of Santa Cruz.

We have arrived. We are in Charles Darwin’s world of the Galapagos Islands.

Sick at Sea

Pacific Ocean, somewhere off the coast of Panama---I feel terrible. I caught a cold the second day of our passage to the Galapagos. I pulled out all the meds: Cold-Eeze (zinc), Vitamin C, Comtrex Cold (a supply from Greece), gargling, lots of water and sleeping between all my watches. Still, it has moved to my lungs, a critical thing for me because I have asthma and even though it’s very controlled, my lungs are the weakest part of my body…something I’ve lived with since childhood. It’s also the only thing that scares me. The crew knows I have a cold, they don’t know what it could mean. And I can’t let on unless I know I’m in trouble. I also have Cipro Anti-biotic and a steroid pack specifically for an extreme case of lung infection. So I am prepared. But, I am one forth the crew on this boat and want to pull my weight. Shannon saw me struggle and took a watch for me during the day.

My specialist back home has driven it into my head that I always check my meter, don’t trust my mind. The meter will tell you how much air I am getting. I’m not in danger, just below my normal. I am sick.

I have been so fortunate to have calm seas and beautiful watches with little stress. It’s just not fun to be feeling bad with a boat constantly moving and knowing I must still get up at 1am to watch until 3am.

I guess I am learning how wimpy I am at home. Normally I would have run to the doctor by now, gotten antibiotics, called my sister to whine a little bit and been sitting in front of my TV veg’ing. But not at sea. It was my turn to cook and I managed to make meatloaf, mashed potatoes and an onion, tomato, cucumber salad.

I do however, feel really safe with this captain trained as a Sea Medic, he has a storehouse of meds in a large Styrofoam box full of everything imaginable, plus two smaller first aid kits in the head (bathroom).

Other mishaps have occurred. Jake had a large cup of boiling water fall off the counter and burned his side, bringing boils and raw skin up during their transatlantic passage: he put medicine on it and wrapped it in kitchen plastic wrap for days. I cut the tip top of my pointer toe off walking through a field in Dominican Republic: out of nowhere, the captain pulled out a bottle and put iodine on in immediately, later hydrogen peroxide then wrapped the cut off part to the toe with breathable tape for several days until the skin under it toughen up enough. Jake got thrown against the table during a big wave and appeared to break a couple ribs: he used an ace bandage for a while but finally after enduring a lot, he spent a day in the St. Marten hospital having it checked. Andy had a tooth with a root canal fail and visited a random dentist in Panama City when he really needed to see someone two months earlier: they had to completely redo the procedure. I was in Greece when the remains of the Para dental surgery that had happened before my trip appeared and two small pieces of bone dropped from an area where a tooth had been pulled. Yep, bone dropped from my jaw. Sometimes you just have to suck it up.

And so we do. Actually, right now we are 400 miles from Panama and 400 miles from the Galapagos so there really isn’t a choice except to be brave.

The Last Passage

Provisioning for our boat to get from Panama to Tahiti!

Panama City, Panama---We were supposed to leave yesterday but after waking very early and heading to the city for boat provisioning, buying enough food to get the boat to Tahiti, returning to stock the boat in the beating sun with no wind, we were exhausted. The crew came up with an offer to the captain to finance one more night so we could stay. Shannon actually had heat sickness.

So, we got one more day to relax here and today, we leave for the Galapagos Islands. According to PassageWeather.com, there is NO WIND. So it is possible for this passage to last a lot longer than planned. I have booked a red eye flight/return ticket to the US from Quito, Ecuador for April 1. The time remaining is the time I get to explore the Galapagos Islands. There is a standby position on a small tour cruise boat that is for the 24th that I plan to take IF we make it in time. It goes to multiple islands and you stay aboard. A land tour means you can’t see as much. I guess it’s up to God!

We will pass the Equator on this trip and we are planning or ceremony, hopefully different from the hazing that large military ships give their first timers. After crossing we become a “trusty Shellback”.

I have mixed feelings as I love the feeling of sailing and this will be my last passage on this year long adventure, mixed with the excitement of seeing the Galapagos, but combined with the anxiousness to return home to see my 15 year old beloved dog in questionable health.

Never-the-less, we are off.

Notes from being an OceansWatch Volunteer

Profile of an OceansWatch Volunteer: Edee Dalke

(As the author of the project blog, this profile is in first person.)

We sit perfectly still in the waters of the Dominican Republic. The morning bay water is calm with hardly a ripple. The air smells of burning and the distant smoke along a hill says they are still burning sugar cane, the reason I was told, that small black ash pieces covered our boat. I’m glad we will dock soon and have access to fresh water.

This is the 10th island for me in the OceansWatch project as I was the only volunteer to visit Trinidad, due to the boat having a couple problems and going directly to Grenada instead after the transatlantic crossing.

Trinidad, Grenada, Union Island, Bequia, St. Lucia, Dominica, Antigua, Montserrat, Sint Maarten and now the Dominican Republic, our final island for this assignment.

After crewing on a boat in the Mediterranean for nine months, I made the Transatlantic crossing from the Cape Verde Islands to Barbados and then sailed to Bequia and left the boat I had been crewing on. Finding the OW organization and getting a volunteer position was the next step in my personal journey to change my life after giving up a business in the US after 26 years.

I had some healing to do after a bad experience on the other boat and leaving my life in the US after losing most everything that I had worked so hard for due to the economy.

I’m in the middle of writing a book called “Changing Courses,” and when I left the boat that I had planned to be on for 15 months, I thought I could either end this journey in Bequia and fly home, or with over 9000 ocean sailing miles, surely I could find another boat. Learning of the OW boat was a miracle for me, a safe boat AND chance to do something productive. This I thought, would be a great way to say “thank you” to the world and nature for all the breathtaking things I got to see in the Med. Perhaps a way to give back. I figured if only I could make even a little difference that would help me right back. I didn’t want to end my experience full of negativity. And so I flew to Trinidad to wait for the OW boat.

Growing up in Kansas, I was always a “summer girl” and spent every moment allowed at the city pool. I eventually got my Water Safety Instructors license and was a lifeguard and taught swimming for two seasons. The first time I saw the ocean I was 18, that was it, I knew I wanted to live on the ocean. I couldn’t afford out of state college tuition, but as soon as I graduated from Kansas State with a degree in journalism and public relations, I packed my car with everything I could fit and drove to Daytona Beach, Florida. I had a total of $500 to my name, no job and knew only one person there. Within 10 days I had found a self employed opportunity with the largest newspaper in Central Florida: The Orlando Sentinel.

It wasn’t reporting and I really didn’t mean to end up in advertising, but it was a job. Bringing the territory from $200,000 to 3 million during my time there, the role fit and I soon became involved in the professional society: the Advertising Federation of America. At 29 I was President of the organization and took the membership from 20 to 200 people that year, but it was a blast. I found a ambitious group of people my age and called them the “Have the Most Fun Possible Committee” and to this day, they evolved to be some of the movers and shakers of the ad community in Daytona. But I think my biggest career honor was being awarded the Ad Fed “Silver Medal” in 1993, the second youngest person in its history to be given the advertising person of the year award. Also as a Rotarian Fellow, between Ad Fed and Rotary there was a lot of volunteer work, boards, committees and events that I was in charge or involved in.

It’s funny how things you don’t realize are preparing you, end up coming into play later in life. I feel that way with some of my OW experiences. My sales experience, public speaking and constant multi-tasking certainly came into play as we felt our way through the OW project.

Each island was really different yet there were links that bind them together. Some Environmental offices I walked in and was able to talk with the Minister of Environment himself! But others were assistants to the assistant. We were a tight team and shared responsibilities according to our expertise or took turns on the islands.

I guess looking back, the thing that haunts me is the islands, the organizations that could really, really use volunteers to help. When we talked to new contacts, to see the look in their eyes when they asked “Can you help?”.

To see hope.

The idea that some yachts might come to help, or that a scientist who’s willing to give their time for expertise that the organization cannot afford. Those looks, they scare me because I am one volunteer sent to make contacts, research projects and organizations, meet yachties and talk to them about membership. I am only one and I am only here for now.

Soon, I have to go back home and find a new career so I can survive before I am able to give back again. Volunteering is not free, it has cost each of us to do this but that is a part of giving and that’s good as long as it ends up meaning something. As long as there are members who step forward and answer them with, “Yes. We can help.”