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Writer's pictureTin Can Bay Yacht Club

Postcard from the Galapagos Islands

by Kay Muir

April 2011



In the last article, we joined Don and Kay Muir, as they cruised amongst the idyllic San Blas Islands and travelled through the Panama Canal. This issue, we join Karinya and her crew as they begin their South Pacific adventures, crossing almost 1,000 nautical miles of the South Pacific Ocean to visit the renowned Galapagos Islands ...


March 31, departing Panama: At 10am we start to raise the anchor. It takes about

30 minutes. The first ten feet is covered in green furry stuff with a few small limpet shells firmly attached. The last 20 feet is encased in Las Brisas anchorage mud and takes ages to wash off, but we finally motor out of Panama in light conditions. It will be a slow trip since 5-10 knot winds are forecast for at least another week, but we are pleasantly surprised when, with only the MPS up, we are doing 5-7 knots in calm seas. Not exactly racing but being in the middle of the ITCZ (Doldrums) we are quite content with that.

Puddle Jumpers: We are now officially Pacific Puddle Jumpers. PPJs are an informal bunch of yachties who sign up for the puddle jump (i.e. crossing the Pacific). It’s not a rally; there is no official start date, point of departure or fees. It’s just an informative network for people to share information and experiences.

Whale Watching: Just as we are leaving the bay, there is a splash of water in the near distance. It looks like a whale splash but we didn’t think it could be. Then we see a dark patch in the water moving toward the boat and a whale aligns itself alongside, turns on its back to reveal its white underbelly. We are all trying to grab cameras while it stays and plays, but by the time we have, the whale has disappeared and nobody gets a shot. However, our encounter with this whale is not over. Moments later, it appears dead astern, swimming directly at our transom, bow wave flaring each side, playfully (we hope) chasing us. At the last moment, the whale dives under the boat and disappears. Nobody gets a shot of that, either! A little further out we see a few more whale splashes and then no more.

April 1, enroute to Galapagos Islands (5°56.2’N / 80°15.7’W ): April Fool’s Day. Amazingly, the wind holds out for most of the night; even a momentary 8 knots is recorded, though by dawn we have dropped to 4 knots.

Sea life: The sea life is abundant with the legendary Panamanian short horned sea alligators. These creatures live for many years starting out on land before becoming aquatic. They vary in length, with the mature creatures reaching about 20 feet in length. Their skin is dark brown with a sun-dried woody appearance. They do not appear to have any purpose in their direction but merely drift with the currents. We think we see a large bird standing on the water, but it’s actually standing on a log, viewing the scenery whilst taking a rest. In competition with the bird on a log, is a crab on a log. It falls off, has a swim and scrambles back on. I believe it is going for the puddle jumping record for being the first Panamanian crab to puddle jump. Now maybe there’s a trend, seeing as how people are trying to be the first or the youngest to achieve something. Perhaps I could be the first female Hartlepudlian, British-born Australian, to be a puddle jumper in a 1985 Hallberg-Rassy 42!

Sea transportation: Not to be outdone by the ‘man who travelled through Ireland with a fridge’, there is a fridge trying to be the first in the latest design to cross the Pacific. We had spotted this largish white object in the water off the bow. It appeared to be oblong in shape, bobbing about, but as we sail closer, it becomes obvious that it is a fridge, minus its door

and a little rusty, assisted by ten small fish. If anyone needs sea transportation that can also be used for carrying beer and used on the land for the same, it was last seen headed on a

course of 220°T, latitude 7°08 N, longitude 79°43 W.



April 2, enroute to Galapagos Islands, (7°05.0’N / 79°45.2’W ): The wind gradually died away the previous evening and throughout the night we are doing just over a knot to a

maximum of just under 3 knots. The sea is flat. I thought we must have anchored for there is barely any movement. In fact, we have been in rollier anchorages! The night starts out clear with reflections of the masthead light and stars on the water (still no moon) and then gradually the clouds roll in and it becomes misty. It seems quite eerie. I half expected a galleon with Captain Jack Sparrow at the helm to emerge from the mist. Then in the distance a lightning storm lights up the skies for several hours.

Air invasion: Two unexpected guests arrive, both with wings. The first to arrive is a brown seabird (unidentified species) which circles a few times before landing on the mizzen boom to pose for its photo. It is determined to take up residence and shows no sigh of fear when Don physically evicts it with a good shove. The second is a somewhat larger winged creature in the form of the US Coast Guard. What it is doing in these parts? Who knows? They make the usual enquires of “what ship, where bound”. Don answers the questions and enquires why they are so far south, to which they reply they are “just cruising” and wish us “good sailing, sir” before disappearing over the horizon.

April 3, enroute to Galapagos Islands (5°56.2’N / 80°15.7’W): We’ve had everything (almost) and nothing. At one point, I record 0.0 knots of wind and it diddles about between 0.0 and 0.5 for a couple of hours. Good job there are no parking fines here in the Pacific. The wind has been SSE, NW, ENE and everywhere in between. The skies have been grey with some thunder and lightning and there is one heavy down pour. It’s still 30°C and 85% humidity and nowhere to hide. We’ve seen another shark and another whale right alongside the boat. The only thing we haven’t had today is sunshine.

April 4, enroute to Galapagos Islands (4°55.8’N / 81°00.2’W): All kinds of weather today. One hour of 15-20 knots of wind (which is great), four hours of no wind and heavy rain for a while. We see whales and more flying sharks.

A rock and a hard place: Overnight, amazingly the wind holds out and we maintain an average speed of 5 knots. However, this afternoon the wind dies completely and we drift a little, motor a little. We hope for some wind later tonight. The sky is clear but still no moon. The seas are calm and conducive to a few zzzzs without rocking and rolling. The morning brings clear skies and wind - 10-15 knots. Perfect, for the ITCZ anyway.


Cruising along, we pass Malpelo Rock. (A rock 370NM from Panama, governed by Columbia, for whatever reason. The rock is a national park with minimal vegetation and a few moorings for those who wish to stay over.) At that moment, the fishing line reels out. We have caught a fish!!!! Maybe? Genoa furled, MPS down and broadside onto wind and waves, the wind picks up to 20 knots as we drift towards the rock. Don spends several minutes fighting with the line when suddenly it becomes easy and as he hauls it in, I photograph “the one that got away”. Whatever it was. Apparently, it was BIG. Well, at least this time, we only lost the fish as opposed to the line, lure and fish. Maybe next time?

April 5, enroute to Galapagos Islands, still sailing (just) (3°32.0’N / 81°54.6’W): Westward Ho! And Windward! ‘They’ said it would be all downwind from Panama onwards. I demand a refund! The GRIB files show 0-10 knots of south winds. We have 8-12 SW and are beating to windward about 270°. We even have to tack! We did have a sliver of a new moon though.

April 6, enroute to Galapagos Islands, (3°14.9’N / 83°20.9’W): Is there anyone out here? Still sailing to windward most of the day! About 7pm ominous black clouds almost touching down to the sea stealthily creep in behind us. We are prepared for a big downpour and possibly thunder and lightning. The rain passes us by on either side as a squall hits giving us 20 knots of wind settling in from the NW until the wee hours of the morning. So much for the 0-10 knots S winds! Apart from sea and sky, all we see are a couple of dolphins, who don’t even call to say hello and then … late in the evening we see the faint masthead light of one of our fellow cruising boats, but this gradually disappears over the horizon and we are all alone again.

April 7, enroute to Galapagos Islands: Still going to windward but can’t complain! Making good progress with 10-15 knots SE winds which we picked up about dawn after a midnight drift. We now have a heel that I didn’t bargain for which means that the treats in the top port locker will have to wait for another day, else I shall be buried under the whole contents of the cupboard: noodles, raisin bran, bickies and muffin mix!

April 8, enroute to Galapagos Islands, (1°18.0’N / 85°31.2’W): After a gentle sail in the morning, the wind disappears and the sea finally glasses out. At one point, we furl the headsail and take down the main so there isn’t any clanking about as we slowly drift with 0.5 knots of current. Apart from a few creaks from the boat and the gentle slopping of water on the side of the boat, it is still. A vast ocean of gently rolling glass with us bobbing about in it. Quite surreal! No-one has collected a parking ticket yet so I guess I’ll just kick back and enjoy the scenery. The sunset is a bit of a classic this evening. Still looking for that elusive green flash.

April 9, enroute to Galapagos Islands (0°21.8’S / 87°17.2’W): We’re busy going nowhere, working the whole day through …Trying to find lots of things not to do. I’ve done some washing, essential domestics, sorted through fruit and veg—today’s culinary delight will depend on what needs using first, regardless of culinary compatibility; a bit of Mrs Patak will cure everything—and veg out reading Tristan Jones’s “Outward Leg”. Reading about his eastward passage from San Diego, through the Panama Canal and along the Columbian and Venezuelan coastlines, it is interesting to note that what applied in 1983 still applies today to a greater or lesser degree. I quote: “Now life became complicated as only Latin American officialdom can complicate it. Because there had been a fiesta day, we had no zarpe (permit to sail) and had to go through the whole painful, slow routine again. This meant spending two whole days taking taxis from the Port Office to the Port Captain’s office, to the Immigration office to the Fuel Supply office to the Port Police office … Anyone who has not experienced the frustration and despair, the agony, of trying to make sense out of a Mad Hatter’s Tea Party should try hobbling around the hot dusty streets for a couple of days, from one obstacle-erecting jumped-up clerk to the next. Each time returning to the Port Captain’s office, he was found asleep in his hammock and could not be woken until 3pm, when ‘over-time’ charges were made.” Not a complete direct quotation, but a précis (just in case anyone checks my reference!). Anyway, this will sound familiar to some and it is heartening to know that in some places, things never change!

April 10, enroute to Galapagos Islands, Crossed Equator (0°08.5’S / 88°17.2’W): An Equatorial Leap. Well, not so much a leap as a gentle slide across the equator at 0418

hours, longitude 87°59 W. I had calculated that, given our speed we would cross about 0600, however after my watch, the wind decides to pick up so that as we slip across the Equator, I slip into sleep and miss the momentous occasion. Probably just as well as I wanted to celebrate in a silly style by dressing up all things aquatic/nautical (e.g. Neptune, mermaids). I, of course, was going to be a mermatron (too old to be a mermaid) and slipping into those fish tails could have been a tight squeeze. So, I was party-pooped. The two UK boats (CD and Chapter Two) celebrate with champagne as they cross even though it is the middle of the night. I believe the effects were felt later that morning. For them it was the first time in the southern hemisphere, for us it is coming back home. We’re still sailing to windward! Wind 8-12 knots. Tootling along about 5 knots at best. Our destination is Santa Cruz, Academy Bay, where the Darwin Centre is.

There’s a hole in my bucket: My (lidless) bucket now has a split in it. That’s what happens when you buy expensive (made in China) equipment and leave it out in the UV. Shame, it was the bucket I used for washing the odd bits of clothing. I’ll have to give up washing or give up the odd bits of clothing.

April 12, enroute to Galapagos Islands: Land Ahoy! We gave in last night and resorted to motoring when the wind dropped to 5 knots and less. We sight land mid morning through the grey sky and rain, but as it is San Cristobel we motor right past and arrive in Santa Cruz at 1640 our time, 1540 local time. Too late to check in but as we aren’t going partying ashore, it doesn’t matter. A good night’s sleep is had instead.



April 13, at anchor, Academy Bay, Santa Cruz, Galapagos Islands, (0°44.8’S / 90°18.4’W): At the appointed hour (plus island time), we are boarded by the Port Captain (an officer of the Ecuador Navy, splendid in his pristine white uniform and shiny black patent leather shoes), a junior officer (in khaki, no shiny black shoes) and our agent, Tuomo, a tall Spanish/English speaking Finn working in Galapagos (shorts, t-shirt, no shoes). Two other boats also check in and we gather for a briefing with Tuomo in the bar/restaurant next to the office, (or maybe that is the office) in the afternoon before trekking off to the Immigration Office. The IO is about 30 minutes walk from the town centre, down a little back street, and looks like someone’s house. There are two people already waiting, seated on a sofa, while the immigration officer shuffles papers and hides behind a computer. After us, another seven people show up and have to queue outside. Once started the procedure is fairly quick and painless but did involve a lot of stamping of paperwork and passports.

16th April, Academy Bay, Santa Cruz, Galapagos Islands: Jon joins a half-day tour to view the local points of interest on the peninsula. First stop is Los Grietas, a large fissure in volcanic rock with a swimming hole. The track in is very rough with volcanic rock boulders—ankle injury country; Jon survives, though discovers that Crocs are not ideal footwear! It is very hot and the water in the swimming hole is very refreshing.


In the afternoon, another boat trip, this time to go snorkelling. Not good visibility, but Jon sees an assortment of fish including Wrasse, Angel and Moorish Idol and one small reef shark. Then off to another beach to see the marine iguanas. After a day ashore, he is quite exhausted; after living on a boat and being at sea, he’s not used to walking that much.

17th April, Isabella Island, Galapagos Islands: Jon joins a full day tour to Isabella, a 2-hour trip by fast powerboat (40ft, 3x300hp outboards). About 20 passengers, mostly very loud Americans. He sees more wildlife today than on yesterday’s tour, including Blue-Footed Booby, Frigate Bird (female), Galapagos penguins, marine iguanas, and white-tipped reef sharks. He goes snorkelling, then enjoys the lunch provided (spicy fish stew, chips, rice, salad) and can’t resist a cold beer. After lunch, a bus takes him to see flamingos and the Isabella Tortoise breeding site. Each island takes care of its own wildlife, but tortoise numbers are declining, with only a 60% survival rate.

19th April, Academy Bay, Santa Cruz, Galapagos Islands: A week in Galapagos and all turtled out (actually, they are tortoises but the locals call them land turtles). While Don

works on the boat, Jon and I walk to the Charles Darwin Centre. The CD Centre is a (bit run down) national park where there is a breeding centre for tortoises and a couple of iguanas

but not much else except Darwin finches flitting through. We join a guided tour which starts with a presentation on how the tortoise evolved and how numbers have declined since

Darwin’s visit. The displays show how they collect and hatch the juveniles and the pens they are kept in (rats have been a problem since the Spanish arrived in the 1700’s) for study and breeding. There are various enclosures with tortoises of different sizes, from hatchlings up to the most famous tortoise, “Lonesome George”, the last one on Pinta Island, now residing

in the Darwin Centre and no longer lonesome.


We’ve done tortoises, iguanas, blue footed boobies, seals and the special Galapagan fly! The score to date on the flies is Don six, flies infinite. We encounter seals when we go ashore via a very rickety jetty. They are basking in the sunshine blocking our path to shore but soon do a belly flop dive into the sea as we approach. On another occasion on the jetty, one one-eyed, side gouged seal became indignant and ‘growled’ at us as he waddled forward along the jetty. ‘He’ kept turning around growling until he had waddled to the end and down the even dodgier gangplank where he slid into the water. Guess he didn’t like the high dive.

The Fish Market: The fish market along the shore is a stone table where the local fishing boats bring in their catch—mainly tuna and mackerel—and fillet them, helped by a couple of seals and lots of pelicans. One seal, known as Poncho, is a regular and stands with his fins on the table waiting for scraps and fending off the persistent pelicans. All this to an audience of tourists—including us—taking photos.

Lava tunnels in lashing rain: The day is promising—blue skies and no cloud—so we set off on our trusty steeds. When not far out of town, it starts with gentle rain as we approach the lava tunnels. After a quick look we continue on, uphill, on a bike stuck in one gear and reach a place called Bella Vista. In the downpour there is not much “bella” about the “vista” so we turn around and free wheel all the way back to a change of dry clothes and a cup of hot chocolate.



20th April, Academy Bay, Santa Cruz, Galapagos Islands: We had planned to catch the ferry over to San Cristobel and see Chapter Two and CD. However, we realize that we would be coming back on Friday which is Good Friday and a public holiday. We are unsure whether ferries will be operating, and whether we will be able to clear out to take advantage of some wind forecast for the weekend. In the end, we opt for leaving rather than waiting another week. I’m sure we missed out on all the Galapagos has to offer, but as independent travel by boat is restricted (one port only, unless you wish to part with $US5,000 for the privilege), you have to take an organized tour or local ferry, staying overnight or more on the other islands.

21st April, Academy Bay, Santa Cruz, Galapagos Islands: Clear out time. We start the clear out process, a simple matter of meeting with Tuomo who collects our zarpe (permission to sail papers) from the Port Captain. However, by late morning, after waiting around and doing laundry, Tuomo returns without our zarpe. The internet is ‘down’! Not sure how a country that relies on endless quantities of paperwork, of which the zarpe is one, can be affected in its procedures by lack of internet, when it requires a piece of paper to be stamped and signed. Without a zarpe you cannot clear immigration, but let that not deter us.


After Tuomo’s phone call, we all pile into a taxi ute with Tuomo and three bicycles in the back, to go to Immigration. After a lengthy conversation in Spanish and lots of gesticulation with two officers which at times sounds hopeful and then not—it seems like the one with two stripes on his uniform is willing to bend—sorry, make exception to the rules on this occasion—while the one with one stripe is sticking to the rules. We leave without our passports stamped and engage in a bit of retail therapy to pass the time. It is only fruit and veggie shopping though I still stock up on all there is to offer, which is quite a lot (much is grown in the fertile volcanic soil on the well watered island).


Returning to the ‘office’, Tuomo has acquired a zarpe, after a fashion, so another trip, by bike to the IO where, it being lunch time, the immigration officers are conspicuous by their absence. No amount of knocking on the door, ringing the bell and shouting could elicit any response (given that siesta time is between 12-3pm throughout the town, even though there is meant to be someone responsive 24 hours a day, we aren’t surprised). By then it is 2pm, we have an unofficial zarpe but no stamped passports. We do however, have clean laundry and lots of fresh fruit and veggies.

22nd April, Academy Bay, Santa Cruz, Galapagos Islands: Good Friday. Never leave port on a Friday, apparently an old seaman’s superstition. Despite the superstition, that is our plan. Everything is stowed and ready to go. One last visit to the supermarket for fresh bread and we’re off. Except on the way back, I get drenched in an earlier than usual downpour. This has killed the wind. Back on board, the rain has ceased but the clouds are dark and heavy over the island. Before long, the heavens open again for a long while and this time we fill the water tanks. Superstitious or not, we are now not leaving port on a Friday. A good excuse to experience the Ecuadorian culinary delights down ‘Eating Street’ for the last time.



23rd April, depart Academy Bay, Galapagos Islands: Happy St George’s Day. At 0715, up came the anchor and we quietly motor out of Academy Bay, waving farewell to those yet to leave. Two other boats left about the same time, but they must have ‘put their foot down’ and soon motor out of sight. We have a gentle sail in a very light breeze. We even caught a fish on the line but as usual, it escapes.


On the first day of sailing King Neptune gave to me ... A very light south westerly ...

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