Day 54: Galapagos – 28/02/10

Mike wakes me up around midnight for my watch.  Anchor watch, in a crowded anchorage, I have discovered, is much more nerve wracking than a night watch in the middle of the ocean where there really is very little to bump into (the odd whale and floating cargo container excepted!)

The surges and swinging continues all through my watch and I look constantly at the depth gauge and go out into the cockpit after each 180 degree swing to make sure we return to our original position.  Our anchor is probably dug in so tight now that we will probably not be able to get the bloody thing out again!!

Sleep is not easy with the constant grinding and graunching of the anchor chain over the rocks underneath us as the boat swings and I am awake when Mike comes in with tea and the announcement that we will be moving before low tide (8 am) as he is not happy with our position.  We move, our anchor coming up surprisingly easy once Mike unravels all the twists in it caused by last night’s constant swinging, and anchor in thirty feet of water, near Brown Eyed Girl.  We have a huge amount of chain and this is no problem for us.

On the way we pass another Privilege yacht owned by Rolando, someone who Mike was talking to three years ago on one of his sailing forums.  He had invited us over to his boat yesterday but Mike was not comfortable about leaving Jeannius.  Rolando’s boat is registered in Road Town, BVI.  Another example of us living in a very small world.

In our new position we settle down to do some jobs.  Mike goes off with Jared to dive for our stern anchor.  He has the GPS co-ordinates of where the anchor was placed and is hopeful that they will find it. 

Photo:  Loading Jared and his dive equipment

Photo:  Off to search

They are gone for over two hours and when they return, our stern anchor is not with them.  It turns out that Jared dived over the whole area and it is just nowhere to be seen.  The only possibility is that some opportunist bugger not only helped himself to our fender, but to our anchor as well.  Thank you very much.  That’s another $300-400  by the time we replace the anchor, fender, chain and warp.

My job is the laundry.  Although I am still in the middle of my love affair with Parker (the completely non'-automatic twin tub) he is very slow and demands almost constant attention (sounds like some of my ex-boyfriends!).  I put on four loads of washing, starting at 9.30 am and it is after 2 pm before I have finished.

After a nap Mike gets up to make a cup of tea and notices a huge pelican is sitting on one of the bow seats.  No doubt, when he goes, he will leave us with a little present!

Photos:  Today’s stowaway

He lets me approach to take a photo, only fixing me with a warning glare when I get very close, but makes no move to leave even when I try to shoo him away.  Brazen bird.  I only stop getting closer when I can see with my own eyes just how sharp and curved the end of that beak is!

In the evening We go to The Rock, a bar restaurant that serves as the World ARC office in Puerto Ayuro, supposedly for happy hour only you can only choose from a couple of drinks to have the 2 for 1 offer (as I find out when I order two Baileys and it comes to $13).  We leave in search of a restaurant with Tom, Graham and John and eventually choose an Italian restaurant (as you do in the Galapagos).

Bill, Rosemary and Matt are there along with Jim from Ocean Jasper and I go over to chat for a while and get the lowdown on what is good to eat.  Matt recommends the pasta with shrimp and mushroom, which is what I order.

Photo:  Rosemary, Bill, Jim, Matt and me

Rosemary points out an interesting sign for the toilets.

Photo:  Do you think there’s a PooPoo room too?

Photo:  Mike, Graham, John, Tom, Jim and me 

Our meal is lovely but there is no desert menu so we all head off to the local ice cream parlour.  Mike and I behave ourselves (I don’t know why) and order a single but Jim stuffs himself with a double.  I wish we had too.

It takes us a while to get a water taxi back to the boat and the driver looks more than a little disgruntled when he realises quite how far out we are.  The sea is quite rough and it is quite tricky for Jim to get off using just one arm.  His other is still quite sore from his tumble yesterday and he is still wearing my sarong in lieu of a triangular bandage.

Day 53: Galapagos – 27/02/10

What a day.  I am lying vaguely awake, about to drift off to sleep when I hear the bleep on the satellite phone telling me there is an incoming message.  I figure it can wait until it is light so I turn over and try to get back to sleep.  I am on the edge of sleep when we hear a furious hammering on the side of the boat.  My first thought is that we have drifted but I am aware that I cannot hear the anchor alarm so it can’t be that.  Mike leaps out of bed and out into the cockpit.  It is Wolfgang from our sister ship, Destiny, saying that there is a tsunami warning due to an earthquake in Chile.  It’s 5 am.

By this time we are all up, and over the VHF come messages from rally control saying that the earthquake has been recorded at 8.8 on the Richter scale and tsunami warnings are in place all up the coast.  Looking at the message from Johanne on the satellite phone, this confirms it. 

Mike knows that the safest place for a boat to be in a tsunami is in deep water so he decides to pull the anchor up and get out of the anchorage, and looking around, other boats are doing the same thing.  Getting the bow anchor up is no problem but getting the stern one up necessitates getting the dinghy down and hauling it up manually into the dinghy, not an easy process when it’s dug in as deep as ours is.  In the end Jim writes the boat name on a fender and Mike ties this to the anchor rope and we dump it in order to get away quickly.

We head out to deep water, life jackets on, and I secure everything on the boat just in case.  Within an hour we are in the deepest water around (it would take another 6 hours to get to water any deeper) and we cut the engines back so that we are just bobbing around at 2 knots facing the direction in which the tsunami is predicted to arrive.  Then we have a cup of tea and wait – there’s nothing else we can do.  Looking at the sun rising, it’s hard to imagine that something nasty could be on its way.

It is predicted to reach the Galapagos at approximately 7.13 am and to be 1.3 metres from the middle of the wave to the top.  The arrival times are usually pretty accurate because they know how quickly these things travel, but predicting height is much harder.  The time comes and goes.  Sure, there are some waves, but nothing big, so it looks like it is a false alarm.  We hang around anyway although we see some boats turn around and head back.  Mike decides to wait a bit longer as it will do no harm and he doesn’t want to be milling around trying to anchor when lots of other boats are doing the same.

Just after 8 am there is an announcement from rally control that the Port Authority has closed the port as there have been sea surges.  , so it will remain closed until 9.30 am.  Just before that time it is announced that is is still closed due to unusual sea conditions and we should remain outside the port until further notice.  Apparently the sea was sucked out of the bay, reducing the level by one metre then pulled it back in taking it up a further two metres, all within the space of a couple of minutes.  It ends up being around 11 am before the boats are let back in, and again, Mike holds back, waiting to see what the other boats find before he ventures in.  It’s not long before we hear from them.  Graham on Eowyn, reports that there are really strange swirling currents and constant fluctuations of sea levels of a metre or so.  Mike, who at this time had started to head in slowly, immediately turns the boat around and heads out again.  We decide to wait a little longer and have lunch at sea.

Jim is looking very attractive with his arm supported in a sling made from one of my sarongs.  I chose a pretty blue one to go with his eyes and hair although I’m not sure he appreciated my styling!  It does make his arm more comfortable though, as he did give it a pretty good wrench yesterday.

After lunch we go back in.  We had hoped to go back to the spot we had originally occupied and reattach ourselves to our stern anchor but another boat has put themselves there, and to our dismay, there is no sign of the fender we left attached to the anchor.

Maggie and Bob from Ocean Jasper are in their dinghy and offer to assist us retrieve our stern anchor and redeploy it but with no fender attached, the rope has sunk and it will take a dive to retrieve it.  They motor around the bay to see if it has come detached and is by the shore but there is no sign of it.  It was a nice fender, and it is obvious that someone has stolen it – we are not the only boat this has happened to today – there are always opportunists around.  Bastards!

With no stern anchor, and the strange currents and surges, Mike puts Jeannius way over on the edge of the anchorage, so that we will not swing and hit anyone who is tied to bow and stern anchors.  He then goes off with Maggie and Bob in their dinghy to dive for the anchor.  When he gets to where he left it, there is another diver in full gear who tells him not to waste his time – the sea is so churned up there is no visibility and you can’t see more than a foot in front.  Jared, from Brown Eyed Girl says he will come and dive with Mike tomorrow or whenever the visibility improves.

He goes off round the bay and sees the damage that has happened to two of the rally boats that were left in the anchorage next to each other.  Although they both had stern and bow anchors, the surges and currently swung them round and they hit each other, one sustaining a lot more damage than the other.  The owners were not on the boat and were awaiting repairs to their engines which were not functioning so even if they had been there, they could not have moved the boat out of the bay.  What a nasty surprise they will have when they come back.

Mike goes onto another catamaran to help them moor up then comes back to Jeannius to monitor our movements.  All of a sudden the water depth drops by two metres, leaving us with almost nothing under the keel then shoots back up to the original depth, all in less than three minutes and the boat swings around by 180 degrees before returning back to its original position.  Over the radio comes reports of aftershocks from the Chile quake which is probably what is causing this.

For the rest of the afternoon, all is calm, until darkness falls, then the strange surging and swinging starts again (the sea levels plummet and rise from twelve feet down to six feet and back again in minutes) and Mike decides that we need to have an anchor watch tonight ie one of us will stay up to monitor the sea levels (particularly during low tide) and to ensure that the boat returns to its correct resting position after each manic swing, and does not pull its anchor out which it is in danger of doing if we happen to go a full 360 degrees.

We see Brown Eyed Girl lift her anchor and move further out, Joe later coming on the radio to confirm that he had to do this as he had started to hit the bottom.  The sea depth where he had anchored had started off at sixteen feet!

He takes the first watch, from 9 until 12 as this is when low tide is and when we are in the most danger of hitting the bottom.  I am to take the second watch.  I go to bed and it takes quite a while to get to sleep as I keep listening for ominous sounds.

Day 52: Galapagos – 26/02/10

Mike gets up then comes rushing down to look for the camera as a sea lion has just arrived in the cockpit and is in the process of arranging himself on one of the large side cushions.  We want to photograph him then shoo him away before he makes a mess of them.  As we go upstairs I can hear lots of flapping and flomping and by the time we open the doors there is a splash and he has disappeared over the side.  Obviously when Mike opened the curtains he disturbed him.

We manage to get some very intermittent internet connection for a while before it disappears completely.  The rain is still extremely heavy at times and there are grey skies all around.  I don’t know if the weather interferes with the connection – probably not.  It’s probably just a crap service.  Mike is eager to get some welding done (the helmsman’s seat and the pin for the outhaul block) and get the gas bottle filled with propane, so he and Jim get a water taxi into town.

Half an hour later he calls from shore and says everything will be ready in a few hours and that they are going to stay there until it is.  I know this is an excuse for some beers and lunch but it gives me a chance to do a bit of cleaning (not much as it turns out) and some girly bits (you know legs etc – you don’t need the details!).

It’s so muggy with all the rain and the damp cockpit means – you guessed it – tiny dead flies everywhere.  I think they just land and drown.  The rain doesn’t die out until mid afternoon so I can’t have the windows open so I spend most of the time (after said leg attention) flopped around, sweating, and relaying messages via the VHF from various arriving boats and rally control, who, only having hand held radios, can’t hear them until they are nearly here.

It’s nearly 4 pm when Mike and Jim arrive back.  Actually I don’t hear the water taxi arrive and just hear a huge crash.  I fling on a sarong and dash upstairs thinking that we have a smelly stowaway but it turns out to be Mike practically throwing the full gas bottle onto the boat.  Getting onto Jeannius from the water taxi proves to be difficult as the sea is pitching about and throwing the two boats around at different heights.  Mike narrowly escapes a tumble when he steps from one boat to another but Jim is not quite so lucky.  As he steps from the taxi, Jeannius lurches down about three foot, the taxi doesn’t, and he crashes onto the steps of the boat, just about saving himself from falling into the sea, although his bottom half does go in.  Mike helps to haul him up.  He lands on his arm (saving his face and head from hitting the steps) and will probably be pretty sore tomorrow.

We all have an afternoon nap.  I’m amazed I can sleep again as I seem to have done nothing else but nap all day, then it’s dinner, TV and, oh, bed!

Day 51: Galapagos – 25/02/10

Mike gets up just before 6 am and I do get my two cups of tea in bed before I heave myself out of it and just give the boat a bit of a once over before the others arrive.  Some of them have never been on a cat before so I want to give a good impression, although, half asleep, I’m sure that my housework is probably not worth the bother.

They arrive around 7.30 am and we leave the bay, heading for Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz.  It is about 45 miles and we should be there around mid afternoon.

It’s a pleasant sail, and almost cooperative winds let us sail the course without much trouble, at times with the two genoas goose winged at the front.  It’s cloudy for most of the day but very, very hot and humid.

I make some garlic bread for lunch and Jim does the angel hair pasta with chilli and garlic.  Both Heidi and Casey make comments about how easy our bathrooms are to keep clean.  They have a huge, beautiful yacht (a Swan 76) but all the bathrooms are teak and they have to wipe down and dry everything after every shower.  What a pain.

When we arrive at Puerto Ayora we put the anchor down then wait for the water taxi to arrive so that we can put a stern anchor down too.  It’s quite a crowded anchorage and all the boats need to lie straight rather than swing.  Heidi, Holly and Casey get into the water taxi with all their luggage.  They are spending the night ashore here then Heidi and Casey are going on one of the 5-day Galapagos trips and Holly is going back home to the US.

The heavens open in the late afternoon, and give the boat a good wash down.  The rain is absolutely torrential at times and puts paid to any plans we might have had about going ashore.  We stay in, eat and watch TV.  We will be here until the next leg starts on Sunday 7 March so have plenty of time to explore when the weather is better.

Day 50: Galapagos – 24/02/10

Today will, from now on, be known as Wildlife Day 1.

We are ashore by 9 am and happen to meet the guy we met yesterday on the water taxi.  His brother has a tour firm and he offers to give us an island tour of 5 hours including lunch for $50 each.  We negotiate for 3 hours without lunch for $25 each, still paying over the odds, but we are all happy with that.

He takes us to get the taxi and we travel across the island to the giant tortoise breeding centre.  Our taxi driver doesn’t speak any English and we explain that we can’t understand Spanish but he insists on pointing out things and explaining them very loudly and slowly as if it will help.  We nod and smile.  He is trying very hard.

We arrive and have a look around the education centre first.  Apparently these huge tortoises still live wild in the north of the island, but their numbers have decreased so dramatically (apparently due to rats and feral cats eating the eggs and the small hatchlings) that the breeding centre had to be set up about 5 years ago to stop them becoming extinct.  We begin the walk through the reserve.  Right at the start we see a large tortoise by a large pile of what looks to be top nosh for a tortoise – some sort of leaf.  He’s about 18 inches across, so not exactly giant.  Jim reckons that they keep dragging the poor bugger out so that the tourists get to see at least one tortoise!

We walk up a rocky path (most of which has been washed away by torrential rain) and up lots of stairs, peering into the undergrowth and between the rocks to see if there is any sign of life.  None.

Photo:  Hunting for tortoises 

At the top of the hill, we have a look at the baby tortoises. There are quite a few ranging from in age from a year to 5 years old.  There is just one 5 year old tortoises, the only successful baby from the first year’s breeding.  Obviously they are getting better at it.  We continue to walk and eventually find some large tortoises, then further on are rewarded with a group of 4 enormous creatures.  I approach one to photograph one of them, secure in the knowledge that even if I get a bit too close and it gets pissed off, it can’t chase me!  Instead, it hisses and pulls its head and legs in, continuing to glare at me from the safety of its shell.

Photo:  Hissing at me from the safety of his shell

Photo:  Mike and friend

Photo:  Look at that face!

I film Hissing Sid for a while but he refuses to come out of his shell while I am so close, them Mike and Jim call to me that there is some real activity happening a bit further back, and sure enough, three of the most enormous creatures are in a clearing together.

Photos:  How old must these be?

We stand and watch for a while then the biggest one of all comes lumbering out of the undergrowth.  This one is truly enormous.  He doesn’t look where he is going.  As he emerges from the bushes he is trailing a branch with him which only falls away as it catches on something else.  He nearly has a problem with a rock at one point when he clambers over it then rocks precariously as he is half way over and his legs don’t all reach the floor.  Gravity eventually pulls him forward and he lumbers very slowly away.

Photo:  Big Daddy

Our next stop is the volcano crater.  As we drive towards the top of the mountain, the mist, which has been hanging around the top all morning, turns to rain.  When we reach the path to the crater, we realise that there is no way we are going to see anything, and certainly don’t want to walk up a mud slide for 15 minutes to get to see nothing, so we move on to stop number 3.  This is the beach on the south side of the island which is full of iguanas.  We climb over huge volcanic rocks then start to spot them.  They can be difficult to see unless they are silhouetted against the sea, especially as they sit so perfectly still.  God, they look positively prehistoric.  No wonder people call them dragons.

Photo:  Photographing the dragon

Photos:  Iguana City

Further along the beach we find a family of sea lions; mum, dad and pups.  The huge bull has caught a fish and takes it back to the sea to thrash it around and kill it but he doesn’t share it with his mate or the pups.  The pups are delightful and I am able to film them scampering around on the beach and playing in the water.  There are some others just lazing around on the rocks, waving their flippers occasionally.  But boy do they smell!

  Photo:  Cute but smelly

We get back to the anchorage having had a thoroughly enjoyable morning.  Almost immediately we spot Judith, Joe, Jared and Tom from Brown Eyed Girl.  Judith and Joe got back a few days ago after Joe’s operation.  (He had to be rushed back to the US from Ecuador the day after arriving there as he slipped on the boat, caught himself from going overboard but ripped apart all his bicep muscles and tendons – he now has what looks like a ski boot on his arm – the bionic man!)  Judith and I have a big hug and arrange to meet for dinner tonight.  We then bump into Heidi and Casey who need a lift to Santa Cruz tomorrow and arrange for them to join us for the sail over.

Jim and I wait for Mike to go back to the boat to get the PCs then we go to an internet cafe to catch up on e-mails and get the blog sent.  Although there is apparently wifi in the bay, no one can get onto it.  We have lunch and a drink while we are there and have every intention of going to the Interpretation Centre but it is so hot and humid we end up going back to the boat and having a sleep instead, using the starboard steps as we have yet another visitor on the port ones!

Photo:  Judith and I – pity the flash didn’t work!!

We go back ashore around 6 pm and join Judith and Joe for a drink then spend ages wandering around the town looking for somewhere to eat.  It’s not that there aren’t enough places but a couple of places have been recommended but we can’t find them as the directions (and restaurant names) are too vague.  Eventually we meet up with Heidi, Holly and Casey and decide on a restaurant just off the beach but when we get there it is full so we go to another one which they recommend – and it is completely empty. 

Now, I’m never sure what it means when you enter a restaurant relatively late and it’s empty.  What does everybody else know that we don’t?  Well, in this case, it’s probably the bugs!!  They are everywhere; beetles (looking suspiciously like cockroaches to me), crickets, moths and flies.  Heidi gets very good at killing them and I am glad she is sitting next to me as they seem very attracted to her and tend to leave me alone as a consequence.  She also flicks them off of me when they land.  Even when the waitress comes to take away the menus she refuses to relinquish hers as she uses it as a fly swatter.

Photo:  Heidi catches this beastie under a glass

The meal, when it arrives, is really good, although they serve the smallest glasses of wine I have ever seen!

We walk back along the waterfront.  The beach is now completely covered with sea lions, and they are spilling out onto the boardwalk.  I have never heard so much barking, hissing, snorting, hacking, sneezing, coughing and flapping of flippers.  There are lots of very small ones too, nursing with their mothers.  We stand and watch for quite some time as they are so entertaining.  The smell, however, with this many all together, is pungent to put it mildly!

Photos:  Settling in for the night – a colony of sea lions

When we get back to the boat, we discover our stowaway has gone and once again the cockpit is beginning to fill up with tiny, dead flies.  However, I have to say that except for the bugs, it’s been a fantastic day.  Tomorrow we have to be up early as we are sailing to one of the other islands, Santa Cruz, and giving a lift to Heidi, Holly and Casey.  I might need to give the boat a quick once over before they arrive around 7 am.

Day 49: Galapagos – 23/02/10

It pours heavily in the night, heavy enough to wake us up but at least it will help clean the boat, which I have to say is looking less than respectable.

Mike wakes me as usual with a smile and a cup of tea.  “Hello beautiful”  he says.  “The boat’s clean but the cockpit is full of dead flies and there’s a pile of sea lion shit”.  Lovely.

When I get up to inspect things, the outside of the boat is indeed, lovely and clean.  All the salt has been rinsed away and we have finally got rid of the muddy dust that the boat picked up in Ecuador.  The cockpit, though, is still a mess, even though Mike and Jim have hosed away most of the dead flies and all of the poop.  There is further evidence that its depositor was a sea lion.  All around the base of the helmsman’s seat are short, straight dark hairs.  One cheeky devil has been on the boat and has clambered all the up the stairs, waddled across the cockpit and up a further two steps to find himself something to scratch himself against.  Jim then remembers flopping noises over his head during the night.  That must have been our visitor.

I set about scrubbing the worst of the cockpit by hand then hosing it down with salt water.  Hopefully if it rains again later this will in turn wash the salt away.  The sea today is a revolting brown colour, rather than the clear turquoise it was yesterday.  Obviously last night’s torrential rain has bought down a lot of mud from the hills.  As there is quite a tide in the bay, hopefully the colour will return to normal by tomorrow.

In the late morning we call a water taxi and head for town to find some internet connection.   Most of the internet cafes won’t let you use your own computer but don’t have the programmes we need on theirs.  Eventually Mike finds one with a port to connect to and I find another one.  We both spend about an hour getting our respective work done then meet up at a restaurant opposite the dock.

Sitting having a drink, the heavens open and it pours down once more, just like England but hotter.

Photo:  A rainy lunchtime in Puerto Banquerizo Moreno

We meet up with the guys from Eowyn who we haven’t seen since Panama.  Mike and John are complaining about putting on weight because Graham keeps making cakes and the talk of food, combined with the fact that we don’t want to get soaked getting back to the boat, influences our decision to stay and order lunch.  For $15 I get half a lobster, fish, shrimp, chips and fried plantain.  Mike and Jim share a pizza.

By the time we have finished eating, the rain has stopped and I go for a wander along the front and watch all the crabs on the breakwater.  Some are red and yellow, some green and some black.

Photo:  Brightly coloured crabs scuttle across the breakwater

By now it’s late afternoon and we wander back to find the water taxi.  While it is actually raining, the temperature actually feels comfortable.  Once is stops, however, it is a different matter completely.  It is still cloudy and the humidity is unbelievably oppressive.  And this is the dry season!

We arrive at the dock and find the stairs and dock itself are, strewn with sea lions.

 Photo:  Sea lions basking – this baby lets Mike get close

  Photo:  One of the many water taxi drivers

Photo:  Our sleepy welcome committee

When we arrive back at Jeannius, we see that we have another visitor.  As we get back on the boat, he comes to and watches us for a while, then spends some considerable time bending himself double to scratch and bite lazily at himself, before flopping back down and zonking out again.  He is so unconcerned about our proximity – it’s amazing.

 Photos:  Our visitor – relaxed and unfazed by our proximity

We leave him to it and go below for a sleep in the air conditioning.  When we get up he has gone.  We ate at the restaurant so late that none of us fancy a meal, so Mike and Jim eat fruit and I have an avocado while we watch some TV.  Both Mike and Jim go to bed and I am just finishing the blog when I hear a wheezy coughing.  I call down to Mike, but it isn’t him, and I can hear Jim snoring so I know it isn’t him either.  Peering out of the doors, I can see the dark shape of another sleepy visitor, who has got up the stairs into the cockpit and has now made himself comfortable on the hosepipe that Mike forgot to put away.  Even when I creep out and take photographs with a flash, he just raises his head once, flaps a flipper at me and flops back again, completely uninterested.  No doubt they’ll be another pile of poop in the morning, hopefully not all over the hosepipe!

Photo:  Another nocturnal visitor

Day 48: Ecuador to Galapagos – 22/02/10

Mike wakes me up late for my 2 am watch because he is having such a lot of fun sailing.  Apparently there’s about 18 knots of wind, we are doing between 8 and 9 knots and the seas are pretty smooth.  I do wonder why, if he is having such fun, he bothers to wake me up.  He could stay there and have fun and I could enjoy myself being asleep!  I decide to keep my mouth shut though and drag myself out of bed and settle myself in the helmsman’s seat.  It’s only raining lightly from one of the squalls that are still hanging about, but it comes sideways into the cockpit and pretty soon I am like a damp dog – only not smelly!

Once I wake up properly I appreciate the ride on the waves (I’m always grumpy when I first come to).  I decide to try to capture the phosphorescence that is stirred up in the wake of our boat’s hulls and sort of manage it although the photograph doesn’t do it justice.

Photo:  Sparkling phosphorescence in the water

As my watch wears on, more and more yachts appear on the horizon all around us.  We have caught some of them up as they try to slow down to arrive into the harbour in daylight.  Mike sleeps in the salon for the first time for a while as the weather is a bit more lively and he’s up and about when Jim takes over as land is now showing on the radar.

We cross the finish line at 0854 am and are accompanied by a seal (or sea lion) and a heavy bout of rain.  Mike and Jim get the sails down and I go on anchor duty.  They are already wet do I put my wet weather gear on which unfortunately has lost the waterproofing on the arms.  I stand in the pouring rain (does this sound familiar to anchoring in the BVIs?) and glance around.  I have to say that arriving in the Galapagos is like arriving on a wet, grey day in Wales, only warmer.  As we motor around the bay, we see that a lot of the yachts that arrived last night have early morning stowaways – seals are sleeping on their back steps and they don’t like being disturbed!  Apparently they even get into your dinghy when you leave it at the dinghy dock.  That could be interesting.

Photo:  A large bull sea lion roars from the breakwater behind us

We have to wait on board until the customs officials have cleared us in.  This is irritating on two counts.  First, the Galapagos islands are administered from Ecuador and we have only just left Ecuador so why do we have to go through this process again, and second, it wastes a day.  We can’t do anything until the paperwork is complete.

Photo:  Puerto Baquerizo Moreno, San Cristobal

The customs official and the WCC agent come on board around 2.30 pm to complete the paperwork and do the boat inspection.  Just after they arrive, I hear a thud, and a third body arrives on board – a sea lion.  Jim names him Ron (Ronseal – get it?)  Anyway, Ron sits on the back step for a few minutes, scratching, nibbling and hissing, completely unperturbed that I am filming him standing just three feet away.  When he has finished grooming himself, he just flops over the side and swims off.  Priceless.

Photo:  Ron Seal arrives ……

Photo:  ……checks out his surroundings ……

 Photo:  ……and starts grooming!

By the time the officials leave, it is pouring with rain again so we decide not to to into town until happy hour.

You are only allowed half an hour at the dinghy dock and when you return to the dinghy you are likely to find a sea lion in it, so we get a water taxi into town.  We see some of the crew from Destiny, the other Privilege 435 and join them for a drink, then head to happy hour at the hotel where the WCC have their office.

Now my understanding is that happy hour traditionally consists of reduced price drinks.  Not so in this bar.  Apparently there is a list of drinks that you can buy cheaper but no one wants those and so we nearly all end up paying normal prices for inferior prices.  They won’t see our custom again.

We head back to the boat quite early as it is now dark and Mike has not put the anchor light on.  When we arrive we do not see any sea lions on the boat which is good because I didn’t fancy fighting my way past one.  I cook a curry, we watch and episode of Green Wing, then it’s bedtime.

 

Our position is:  0 deg 53 min S, 89 deg 36 min W

Distance so far:  2574 nautical miles

Day 47: Ecuador to Galapagos – 21/02/10

My second watch is uneventful, but so calm I get to watch more TV which means that the time passes quickly.

The day follows in a lazy haze.  It is still so calm that I am able to lie on my bed for most of the morning and watch TV – so much more comfortable than lying in the cockpit.  I only get up when Mike calls to say that Jim has got the lunch ready.

Again I stay in the cockpit during part of the afternoon while Mike and Jim sleep.  I keep imagining that I hear whales but is is the sound of the water hitting the stern steps, although each time I hear it I sit up and scan my surroundings.  There is nothing around.  I do see whales in the distance once today – two of them – but they are just fins and rounded backs in the distance.

We get quite a decent speed out of a very small amount of wind. mainly due to the new contraption that Mike and Jim have arranged to hold the boom out further.  The $200 that Mike spent on a couple of new blocks was apparently money well spent – I keep hearing that – justification for getting a tiny bit more speed – and it’s all coming out of my pear necklace fund – NOT!

Towards the evening the weather starts to change.  The wind picks up a bit and there are a series of squalls showing on the radar.  I’m glad I’m only doing one watch tonight.  At least our speed today ensures that we will be arriving in daylight at San Christobal tomorrow.

Our position is:  1 deg 08 min S, 88 deg 42 min W

Distance so far:  2508 nautical miles

Day 46: Ecuador to Galapagos – 20/02/10

Mike wakes me up just before 2 am for my watch.  The engines are off and the sails are back up and we are sailing along quite happily, on course, getting an average speed of 6 knots from 9 knots of wind – pretty good.  I go out on deck but immediately go back below and change my shorts for trousers – and yet again, a fleece even though the temperature gauge says it’s 26 degrees.

Everything is back to that damp feeling which we had got rid of during the time in the marina (constant air conditioning sorted it out).  It’s the mixture of humidity and salt laden air and is something I will never get used to.  Normally it takes longer at sea for this to happen but it has been so grey and overcast since we set sail this time, and there has been no sun to help dry everything out, although both Mike and Jim have burned slightly.  I keep telling them (and Mike knows this anyway) that this close to the equator, you can burn even when it’s cloudy, but like little schoolboys, they ignore me.

My watch is completely uneventful, just the way I like it.  For most of the time there are no stars and the moon, although up, is also hidden behind a blanket of cloud.  When it’s over and I climb back into bed, I find that it feels cold and clammy.  During the night I am so cold that I have to turn the fan off and when Mike brings me a cup of tea in the morning I find I am curled up in about three layers of sheet which I have wrapped around me during my sleep to keep me warm – and I still have a t-shirt on.  It takes me a while to realise that the air conditioning is on – Mike has given in and is trying to dry the boat out again.

When I eventually surface during the morning, it is a completely different picture.  There is blue all around.  Blue skies, blue sea and just the merest hint of patchy, thin white cloud.  The cockpit cushions are dry.  It feels wonderful.  Even better, although my stomach is still not completely better, it is much improved and I no longer feel sea sick.  How can I?  The sea is almost completely flat.

I am sitting in the cockpit when I suddenly hear a noise I recognise – the sound of blow holes – whales!  Sure enough, about five pass the back of the boat, sedately moving west.  By the time Mike brings me the camera, they are too far in the distance to bother with.  It is still lovely to see though.

Mike and Jim fix the teak step back onto the boat that their makeshift arrangement for the outhaul pulled off yesterday and fix the new contraption (a series of blocks) to hold the back of the boom in place which holds lunch up as the cockpit table is completely covered with tools.  Only Jim can get all the stuff back into the tool box as he arranges it methodically.  Mike usually just jams it all in any old how and then curses when the lid won’t shut properly.  Watch and learn, Mike.  Watch and learn!

After lunch (more of that beef, marinated then cooked and added to salad – and still no one is ill so it must be OK) both Mike and Jim go for a sleep so I decide it is time for a bit of nude sunbathing as I am beginning to get strap marks.  When we are at sea like this, we normally don’t bother with clothes at all because there is no one around to see us but with Jim on board, that’s all changed.  He says he doesn’t mind me going topless or nude (I notice he didn’t say the same to Mike!) but I just can’t do it.  This normally wouldn’t bother me.  I go topless in front of our friend Steve and don’t bat an eyelid, but I have known Jim for nearly 30 years and to suddenly strip off in front of him seems weird.  It’s the same stupid thing as being at Johanne and Steve’s house a few weeks after being topless in front of Steve on the boat – If I come out of the bedroom wearing only knickers I shriek and cover myself up!

Laid out on the cockpit cushions, looking around, there is nothing to see except blue.  Right on the edge of the horizon are two cats, Tucanon and Noeluna, but they are tiny white specks and they keep disappearing.  All I can hear is the gentle lapping of waves against the side of the boat.  I can’t adequately describe the feelings but it’s moments like this that make the misery of yesterday seem a long way away. 

Anyway, I don’t spend long sunbathing and I’m finished and all covered up and decent before anyone emerges from their afternoon slumbers.  When Mike appears I go for a nap.

Suddenly I am called up to the cockpit by Jim as Mike is fighting with a large fish.  Several times it feels like the fish has gone because the pressure disappears from the line itself but all of a sudden, when it is about 50 feet from the boat, it comes to the surface and Mike can see what looks like fins!  He’s not sure at this point, if he actually wants to reel this thing in!!!  Then the line starts screaming out again, despite the clutch being wound tight and then ….. nothing.  He starts reeling in and finds just the lure on the end – it has escaped to fight another day and Mike is more than somewhat relieved.

In the early evening, I sit and watch the sun go down.  It is a perfect evening.  A light breeze, small, evenly spaced waves and lots of blue.  I watch as one by one the stars start to pop out, Venus first, the brightest, then others.  I don’t think I will ever fail to be entranced by the beauty of this sight.

Photo:  Well what else is there to photograph?

I take the first watch.  The wind dies down so much I have to start one of the engines but that’s about as exciting as it gets.

Our position is:  1 deg 16 min S, 86 deg 36 min W

Distance so far:  2387 nautical miles

Day 45: Ecuador to Galapagos – 19/02/10

Mike wakes me an hour late for my second watch as the wind picks up a little and there are lots of fishing boats around but my watch turns out to be uneventful.  There are no stars around now and even with my fleece on I am chilly and resort to wrapping a towel around my legs as I have shorts on rather than trousers.  Towards the end of the watch I see some dolphins swimming and leaping in the distance but they don’t come to play.

Jim gets up around 7.15 am so I have company for the last part of my watch and a cup of tea.  After breakfast, as my stomach is still not right, I take to bed and doss around until lunchtime, getting up for a sandwich.  I look incredulously at the helmsman’s seat which has broken while I was downstairs.  One of the bolts that holds the back rest to the seat has sheered through completely.  Jim just grabbed hold of it and the whole thing fell apart – it was a good job he wasn’t actually sitting on it and leaning back as it would have been a nasty backwards tumble.  It now has a series of ropes attaching it to the seat and up to the bimini frame.  Actually, although not aesthetically pleasing, this arrangement now makes the angle of the back more comfortable to lean against, so every cloud has a silver lining.  Now, if they could just fathom me a foot rest …..!

Photo:  Tastefully arranged ropes keep the back rest upright

We are all sitting in the cockpit in the early afternoon when there is an ominous bang.  Normally that bang means one thing to Mike and I – the outhaul has broken – but this is usually accompanied by a furious flapping of the mainsail, and today, there is no noise.  I go the the back of the cockpit and peer up and sure enough, although the outhaul seems to be intact, the mainsail is not pulled taught to the back of the boom like it should be and is slightly slack, just not enough to make it flap.  Peering at the mast, Mike then realises that the new block holding the outhaul to it has pulled away completely – it is not the outhaul which has broken, but the pin in the block.  This was fitted brand new in Grenada in December.  Mike secures it with a thick rope which will suffice for now.  Hopefully we will find a metal worker in the Galapagos who can make a new one.  Jesus, what next?  Prophetic words indeed.

Mike and Jim both have a sleep in the afternoon and when they come back up, I go down for mine.  I take a sea sick tablet and feel sorry for myself.  Not only do I still have the upset stomach, accompanied by occasional griping pains, but the seas have now turned lumpy and uncomfortable, just the sort of horrid motion that I just don’t seem to be able to take.  Sea sickness makes me so miserable and that in turn makes me homesick.  Oh for a bed that doesn’t lurch and roll and cool, dry sheets.

The wind changes direction for a while by 180 degrees, no doubt due to the squalls in the distance, and it stays grey, with one shower which does nothing to clean the boat, which is filthy despite Jim washing it twice while we were in the marina.

I get up, shower and wash my hair, always interesting when the seas are throwing you around, although this time I manage to stay upright.  When I come up, I hear about breakage number three.  The interim measure that we put in place for the outhaul (the rope securing the block to another block on the mast) has caused the teak step onto the salon roof to pull away.  Mike is now thoroughly pissed off and has furled all the sails away for the day and we are motoring with both engines on.

Jim makes dinner – thinly sliced steak marinated in a mixture or oriental sauces with rice.  I eye the steak suspiciously as this is the same batch that we ate the other night and although no one else has been ill, I can’t help giving it the evil eye.  Although I still feel a bit grotty, I’m hungry and tuck into it as it smells, and tastes, good.  If no one else is affected this time, I know it’s definitely OK.

I only have one watch to do tonight – Jim is doing the double stint.  I go to bed and start watching the Sex and the City movie, waiting for the ominous stomach gurgles to start, but after an hour, nothing has happened so I turn the light off and instantly fall asleep.

 

Our position is:  1 deg 27 min S, 84 deg 23 min W

Distance so far:  2263 nautical miles

Day 44: Ecuador to Galapagos – 18/02/10

I have an upset stomach during the night and panic that was something wrong with the beef, but Mike and Jim turn out to be OK so I guess it’s just one of those things.

Just after I wake in the morning, what has started out as a grey day turns into a rainy day, and I discover a slight leak in the stern cabin toilet.  Well, when I say discover, I actually mean remember, as I noticed it last time it rained.  Still, it’s very slight and nothing to worry about.

All around us boats are getting ready to leave although some are still waiting for engineers and electricians and the such.  It seems workmen are no more reliable here than in the Caribbean, or in the UK for that matter.

We have our time slot for the fuel dock and the marina guys turn up to release our stern lines just as the cleaned mooring lines arrive back.  Well, I say ‘cleaned’;  they are certainly cleaner than before but definitely not clean in any meaning of the word.   They are certainly not revolting to handle but they will never be white again.

Mike has arranged our stern lines so that we can just slip them as we pull away from the dock, and the marina guys release the bow lines and we smoothly leave our position and head for the fuel dock.  The boat before us was late arriving and another one pushed in ahead so we have no choice but to hang around, going backwards and forwards in a very small limited space.  Then another boat tries to slip in between us and the one being fuelled and there is a slight altercation, gentlemanly of course, about who is next.  I stand leaning over the guard rail in a low cut bikini, smiling cordially while I say we are actually next and they eventually concede defeat.  Or maybe they recognise that glint in Mike’s eye that says “Sod off, I’m next!”

Refuelling takes ages.  We need about 80 gallons to fill the tanks and one of the fuelling dock guys insists on doing it.  He pops the nozzle into the tank and fills it oh so slowly.  I wrap a cloth around the nozzle to prevent it all spurting out when it gets towards the top to encourage him to fill it a little faster but he just pulls it aside so that he can peer down the side of the nozzle to see and hear what’s going on.  It takes over 20 minutes at this snail’s pace but eventually we are finished and we motor off towards the start line.   Most of the boats are at anchor now outside in the bay but at 11.45 am they start to pull their anchors up and put their sails up.  We do the same, putting both the main sail and the genoa.

A fishing boat comes screaming in while we are all in the middle of this, accompanied by a whole flock of screaming seagulls who know that lunch is on that boat!  Other fishing boats nearby provide resting places for still more birds.

Photos:  ‘The Birds’ – have they seen the Hitchcock movie?

We get a signal at 11.50, again at 11.55 then at noon we are given the off.  We are probably in the middle of the pack, but yet again it’s not long before the boats separate and the fast boats pull ahead and quickly out of sight.

Photo:  Over the line and the fast are boats already in the distance

Photo:  I watch the jostling from the safety of the bow

Photo:  Mike gets a better vantage point 

Photo:  Lots of lines to put away – where’s Jim when he’s needed? 

We have lunch then I retire to my bed for a little sleep as I will have two watches tonight – the first and the last.  I end up staying in bed all afternoon, alternating between dozing and reading.  The sea is calm and it is cool in the cabin with the fan on and I am most comfortable there.

Mike brings me a cup of tea around 5 pm and I get up when it’s finished.  We are treated to a beautiful sunset, then I make dinner.  Just as I put the two gas rings on the gas bottle runs out.  I only need them both on for about 5 to 10 minutes and it has only just got dark.  Poor Mike has to don his miner’s light and go and furtle in the bow locker with a spanner.

Photo:  A blood red sky at sunset

After dinner I start my first watch.  The crescent moon is already up and we sail along at a very pleasant, albeit slow speed, just 4.5 to 5 knots but as we only have an average of 8 knots, that’s pretty good.  The sails are pulled in tight so there’s no nasty flapping noises.  All around I can see the lights of about 8 WARC boats, although when morning comes we probably won’t be able to see them at all without the binoculars.

I listen to music, do the blog and watch TV to wile away the time.  For a while I lie on the cockpit cushion and gaze up at the sky trying to find a shooting star but don’t spot one tonight.

 

Our position is:  1 deg 51 min S, 81 deg 52 min W

Distance so far:  2092 nautical miles