The First Leg

The Galapagos
Wreck Bay, San Cristobal Island
July 2-3, 2012

Got into Wreck Bay on the second for a little diesel and some food.  As much as I would love to stick around and dive, the cost would be about a thousand dollars each after paying all the fees and the various agents and the guides so sadly it's not going to happen.  The islands themselves are pretty barren and desolate looking.  Rocky with low scrub-brush and very irregular topography.

The town itself is simple, yet larger than we thought it would be.  I stopped a man getting on a motorcycle outside a laundry mat and was able to get directions to the supermarket and the fruit/veggie market place.  Both what I'd come to expect from traveling around central america, but things didn't seem quite so crowded and packed together as they often are in that part of the world.

All over the bay are seals lounging in the sun.  On deserted boats, the benches along the docks, dingys tied behind boats and really anywhere flat.  Around nine last night we heard some huffing and puffing around the back of the boat and one big fat guy had plopped himself on our stern.  I snapped a picture and apparently he didn't like the flash for he let out a cry somewhere between that of a dog and a goat as he lumbered in a humping motion off the boat.  They are the local equivalent of squirrels.  As best I can tell, not bothered by humans and very content to lay all over the places all afternoon like heaping masses of fat and bone and fur.  Really they are quite unattractive and awkward looking on land, moaning and burping and shitting all over the place.

In the evening on our neighbors with a nearly identical boat to ours came over for a chat.  He was thirtyish aussie with a wicked accent that Andrew later could best describe as redneck and hickish.  He'd gone to the British Virgin Islands 11 months ago with the intention do the same thing, buy a boat there and then sail it back home over the course of a few months and sell it when he arrived.  But that was 11 months ago and he now has little desire to get home much less sell the boat. He picked up a few backpackers last month and so far their only plans were to stay here for a month or so and then head on to the Marquesas's.  He figures the soonest he'll get home is a year and a half from now.




The End of June

The wind is finally with us an the days have begun to blend together as they tend to do out here.  The boat is in a constant state of heeling and so life is being lived on a slant for the time being.  I want to say about 15 degrees to Starboard, but it varies from time to time as the wind changes and the sails are adjusted accordingly.   One of the first things you learn out here is that one hand belongs to the boat.  Two feet are not enough to stabilize you and so one hand must also be devoted to the task.  This is annoyingly true at this angle.   Two feet, one hand and as many fingers as can be spared from the other plus the occasional shoulder must work together to sustain any movement around the boat.

After leaving Malpelo we went through several days of intense rain storms and were able to fill our water tanks completely, which is a nice change from the last crossing when we were constantly worried about having enough water.  The downside is that we have to worry about a front sneaking up on us in the night.  I was only able to avoid a gnarly one the other night by turning the boat 15 degrees north, bringing us fully broadside to the wind  which heeled us over to a dangerous angle and sent us shooting off above it, taking the full force that the wind had to offer.  We were pumping over waves and and generally causing a ruckus before turning back into the wind, leveling out the boat a bit a watching the front skirt by just south of us.

Other notable events include the catching of fat tuna that yielded two heaping meals of the best sushi I've ever tasted.  You could cut straight through it with a fork in one motion and the flavor was of course perfect.  Unfortunately, the end of June also came with the loss of two lures to a sail fish and a marlin.  Both could be seen surging out of the water before easily snapping our lines.  Finally, last night I had the pleasure of sharing part of the night watch with a pod of dolphins who were racing and dancing across our bow.  At first I thought I was seeing things but after a few minutes it was clear that a pod had come to say hello and mess around with the front of the boat that was occasionally crashing down off the waves with tremendous force.




Day 5
6/27/12
Malpelo Island, Columbia

Woke up bobbing off shore of Malpelo Island.  It's a huge rock that rises 800 feet out of the water and has this one type of bird sitting on every flat surface.  I wanna say that they're frigates but I really don't know shit about birds.  They have roughly the same color scheme as a seagull but the body is long, thin and angular.  The wings are also longer and thinner.  I'd reckon that in a fight to the death one of these things would quickly dispatch any seagull.

We turned into where the map indicated there was a cove and found a mooring buoy but elected to make a loop of the island to see what else was around.  Tied to another buoy in the next cove was a live aboard dive ship getting ready to send out people and further along we found an isolated research station on a piece of flat land about half way up.  There was an elevated metal walk way with ropes hanging down to pull supplies off of a boat, however we could make out no way for the supplies to get to the outpost several hundred feet higher.  Around the top of the island we motored past a group of darkly colored dolphins of the same variety that we had seen earlier and these ones were equally unsociable.  Andrew remarked that having the dolphins here was a good thing as they don't mix well with sharks.

Returning to the first cove, we tied up to the buoy.  Four hard plastic balls about the size of soccer balls attached to a to an absolutely massive rope that descended into perfectly blue water.  We jumped in expecting it to be cold, but it was nice so we dawned snorkeling gear and struck out towards the cliff and the waves slapping against it.  At first it was nothing but pure, deep blue and then all of a sudden the rock wall and hundreds of fish came into view.  We moved along effortlessly carried by the current, about ten meters out from the wall and the foam.  Out front, partially obscured by the schools of fish I spotted a hammerhead sitting about 50 feet down near where the rock of the island met the sandy bottom.  I turned to show Andrew and found him fixated at something below us.  Half a dozen several meter long hammerheads were gliding through the water not 30 feet below us.  Shadowy grey, outlined against the deep blue water of the bay. they paid no attention to the wall teaming with fish and slid out of view shortly after.  Later, not ten feet from me, the gawping mouth of an eagle spotted sting ray emerged from the foam of the surf and I moved away as calmly as I could while it's spotted undulating body and needle-ish stinger moved past.  Andrew spotted the ugly head of a Moray eel come out of the rocks and down the rock wall but all we talked about back on the boat was school of hammerheads that had frozen us on our tracks earlier.

The decision making process for going to Malpelo, which took place shortly after leaving Panama City is a good example of why the trip is going good so far and why we're getting along so well:

So Spencer, there's an island on the map here that's more or less on the way to the Galapagos and I reckon it might be  worth a look.

Oh yea?

The GPS says it's a bird sanctuary and there's a spot to anchor. So I don't know, you ever heard anything about it?

No, you?

Nope.

Yea, I've never heard of anyone stopping there but why not? Let's do it.

Good enough for me.

...And that's how we ended up snorkeling with hammerheads.




Day 4
6/26/12

Sailed a bit in the morning, tacked around an overturned table and caught an unknown fish which we threw back.  After about 9:30 , things were about as calm as I'd ever seen it and we motored along lazily.  It was an incredibly boring day and at 5 we decided that a real happy hour was in order.  No shitty Pamamanian beer - strong rum and cokes. After the first one we caught a great blue fin tuna and the whole day seemed a bit better.  We each had a heap of raw tuna and some salad for dinner and it was fantastic.

Late in the night we came on to our destination, the island bird reserve of Malpelo, technically part of Columbia.  I had been told by various people that some of the maps used by the GPS were still using data from the 1880's and thought it was bullshit until Malpelo ended being off by 2 kilometers.  In the day light not a big deal, but a bit nerve racking when it's pitch black at 2 am.  We drifted off shore until morning, unable to make out the inlet indicated by the charts.

Day 3

6/25/12

Boredom.

Motored all day more or less.  Andrew says that in the morning a blackhawk helicopter came and checked us out.  Happened as we were leaving Panamanian waters.

Thought we had caught a blue fin tuna, turned out to be shitty tasting blood red flesh.  When we looked closely the back had stripes.  We tossed him back in.  Around 4ish a group of Dolphins came jumping over to us and then dove under the bow not to be seen again.  They looked like the fins we saw chasing fish on the surface the day before.

Night watch.  Lighting storms all around, one black cloud sat off the port side flirting with us all night - occasionally spitting rain.  Around 1, while standing at the helm I was hit in the back of  by a flying fish.  The bench that wraps around the cockpit is open behind the wheel so you can pop it open and access the stern.  Probably attracted by the running light he sailed right through it and into me.  Six inches of flopping, flapping slime bouncing all over.  I pulled out the bucket with the fish filleting board, opened the bench and flipped him out.  Glancing down I noticed a three inch squid, attracted by the light had attempted the same and landed in the drainage grove.  Scooted him out as well and swilled the cockpit.

Day 2

6/24/12

Writing is hard on the first day, still getting use to the rocking and rolling so writing this on day 3.

Snorkeled around the bay early in the morning saw tons of fish, a sting ray.

Set sail and the inverter promptly broke.  Andrew is an engineer dealing with this kinda stuff so he took it apart but was unable to figure out what is wrong with it.  Currently trying to communicate to someone who can get us a new one in either the Galapagos or Marquesas.

Brief rain shower in the later morning and we nearly caught a wahoo.  Got him right up to the boat before he spit the lure out but not before taking a good chunk of it.  At around 1:30 we pulled in a nice Mahi-Mahi.  Dinner for that night and the next.

Manta Rays jumping all over the place, all day.

After getting the fish the winds picked up enough for us to put the sail up.  No sooner had we then we got caught in a triangle of three storms and all hell broke loose on a small scale for an hour or so.  Waves not terrible but we got a gust of 43 knots, max for sailing in this vessel is about 25.  Rain stinging everything, wind howling and no time to cover up. Things got intense for a bit, kept us on our toes in what would have otherwise been a dreadfully boring afternoon.

Later in the afternoon got some good wind and were able to power down the motor to practically idle.  Ate part of the Mahi-Mahi for dinner and it was awesome.  Took my first night watch of this trip and it was fun learning how to use all the controls to keep the boat with the wind as there was only just enough to keep us going at sometimes.  Around 10:30 had to wake Andrew as the radar was showing a tanker about thirty mins off on a course headed for us. "I didn't want to wake you but I wasn't sure what the protocol is for being run down by a tanker." Ended up passing with half a mile to spare.  An hour later the wind died down and we took in the sails and motored through the rest of the night and into the next day.

Day 1

6/23/12

19:50

8'16.239N  79'4.18W

Left Panama City today after the expected amount of shenanigans and miscommunication at the fuel dock.  We were able to motor sail for most of the way here after getting past the large ships waiting to transit the canal and tried to fish for most of the day.  The new lure was snapped off and another took a bite to the wire between the lure and line but we were unable to catch anything.  At one point a pair of Pelicans flew past and one hit the line but not badly.  He looked confused and landed briefly before taking off again. The most interesting thing was a blunt nosed fish, several hundred yards away and very large that launched itself out of the water in a parallel fashion multiple time in a row before disappearing.  We reckon he was a couple of meters in length and were unable to identify the type.  For all we know it could have been a flying/swimming 2x4.   The other excitement for the day was sailing through a small debris field containing several logs/trees capable of doing some serious harm.  We changed direction twice and it served as a nice way to stay awake in the afternoon lull.

About an hour before sunset we pulled into a great cove in the Perlas Islands. There is a small farm, mostly hidden off to one end with goats grazing on the hill side.  In the middle a small waterfall and more towards the left end a blow hole.  It's about as idyllic as it get.  After setting the anchor we jumped in and dove the anchor.  Andrew was able to find the anchor and it set well enough for the time being.