Black Turtle Cove and Puerto Ayora

I was up early this morning to avoid a rush getting ready and to enjoy my last calm morning on the water. The ship dropped anchor about 10pm last night so it had not been far from Bartolome back to Santa Cruz Island and the quiet, still boat made for another fabulous night of sleep.

At breakfast, Sofia and I were each filling our fruit plates when I asked her how old she was. She politely responded, “13 and you?” I was amused that she’d responded by asking my age but I was honest and told her 39. Her little jaw dropped, an audible gasp left her mouth, and she loudly exclaimed, “WOW!!!” I wasn’t sure what to make of this and her parents laughed as I tried to compose myself from my amusement at her response. I wasn’t sure if this was a good wow or a bad wow! I asked why she was so surprised and she said because I’m older and she thought I was young. Gotta love her young teen honesty. Kyra amusedly asked that now that she knew I was 39 how old did Sofia think she was? Sofia looked her up and down and declared, “35!” It’s not my place to give away a ladies age but my eyes widened with even more amusement; Kyra is OLDER than me and this was the SECOND time on the trip she’d been guessed to be younger. Camilo had us guess his age and I felt bad that I was off. He is 12 and I guessed him slightly younger. I really have enjoyed getting to spend time with these kids. I hadn’t talked much with their father Andreas but I’ve spent a good amount of time chatting with their mother, Andrea, and it’s easy to see where they get their charm.

After drinking more guanabana juice (of course) and eating the best oatmeal I’ve ever had, warm but not mushy with almonds and strawberries, it was quickly time to load up onto pangas for our last excursion off the yacht, a visit to Black Turtle Cove. Not much was needed for this final excursion as all it entailed was a panga ride through the cove. I didn’t even bother to put on shoes. I’m going to miss this barefoot life.

Black Turtle Cove is on the northern end of Santa Cruz Island. Giant rogue waves rocked the yachts a few hundred yards away. It looked like we’d be doing some surfing in the panga this morning!

Mangrove trees line the entire coast of the cove and its myriad of little islands, their roots fully exposed. A white line across the roots shows where high tide lands. It was still early and everyone on the panga was relatively quiet as we slowed and entered the cove. I love the early morning sounds; everyone hushed and the peaceful small splashes of fish jumping all around to catch their breakfast. The boobies were hungry too and diving into the water around us.

I had strategically taken a spot on the end, by the panga captain, to have a better chance of seeing what’s to be seen and getting a clear shot for photos. The shallow mangrove roots along the shoreline make for a perfect shark nursery; this is where the whitetip, blacktip, and Galápagos sharks all come to lay their eggs as the eggs can easily attach to the mangrove roots. Baby blacktip sharks swam by, we thought we saw a whole school of them before being corrected that those were mullets, not sharks. I’m still not convinced the guide was looking at the same school as we were. But individual little babies, both black and white tipped could be spotted throughout the water. The site of little baby shark fins coming out of the water was just adorable as the little sharks roamed around, learning how to shark. I straddled the side of the panga to comfortably watch and dipped my toes in the water; it was sooooo warm! Snorkeling wasn’t allowed in this cove due to it being such a nursery for so many but it would have been divine. My guide, Billy, warned me to be careful, sharks like toes. Nom, nom, toes!

A turtle came gliding past, taking no interest in the two little pangas. A beautiful eagle ray gracefully flitted around, swooping thru the water, showing off its gorgeous spots. A hundred or so feet away a bunch of little tips emerged from the water; a large school of golden rays was gliding through, flapping their tips out of the water. I took pictures and video from above while Kyra dipped her phone under the water for a different perspective; they sailed towards us, putting on a show of grace. Golden rays aren’t typically social but this young group would have been born together so were still sticking together.

Our panga captain ‘parked’ the zodiac against the mangroves at the ‘door’ to the cove; a narrow opening of maybe 15′ where the sharks and other marine life access the cove from the open sea beyond. In the span of a few minutes we saw three adult whitetip sharks swimming through, searching the perfect spot to lay their eggs.

Leaving the cove our driver stopped so we could get a final view of three blue-footed boobies who were perched on little outcroppings, just hanging out after their morning meals. A large pelican, massively lacking grace, kept demonstrating crash landings into the water to catch his own breakfast. The pelicans were hilarious, they would fly low and then just *bam* crash into the water with a giant splash. It was a sharp contrast to the clean dives of the boobies; these clowns practically went ass over teakettle as they smacked into the water.

As the panga surfed the large waves back to the boat I took in the last few moments of my final yacht excursion. I really appreciate that the guides and crew were never rushed nor rigid and aptly adjusted the schedule a few minutes here and there as needed. If there was a reason to linger to witness the beauty of nature we would. I put my camera down and filled my eyes with the beauty around me; no pictures can ever do this magic justice.

Back on the yacht, I packed the last of my things and did a double, triple, quadruple check to make sure I had everything. I searched the spa deck again but still no right sandal; looks like I’m taking just one home with me.

Everyone gathered in the lounge for a group picture and to say goodbyes and exchange contact information as the yacht made the short trek to the dock on Baltra. Firecracker Linda was not shy about not only confirming that Coral I was definitely the fun group but also not trying too hard to hold back catty comments about the Coral II passengers. Apparently, there had already been some decently catty discussions that I had missed! Little decorative chests sat on the coffee tables in the lounge and someone casually fiddled with one, opening it nonchalantly and discovering, to the amazement of all, that there were snacks inside! There was a 24/7 snacks and beverage station set up in the dining room but none of us had known that these had been there the whole time. It’s funny how excited adults can get over the discovery of junk food.

Finally it was time to disembark. The little cruise was over. The pangas were waiting to take us to the dock. From there a short bus would take us to the airport to reunite with our luggage that had already been moved off the yacht. Most guests were flying out right away; those of us staying on Santa Cruz instead have to catch a second bus from the airport to the ferry, take the ferry back across the channel to Santa Cruz Island, and then take a taxi to Puerto Ayora. Everyone but the wonderful family from Switzerland was disembarking and we were all sad to say goodbye. I hugged each fo the kids and Sofia squeezed me so hard she cracked my back; I may or may not have almost teared up. They waved goodbye from the yacht as the panga took us away.

A sea lion under the dock’s little plank walkway couldn’t even be bothered to open its eyes as everyone strode past its face. The dock was tiny but at least it had a clean bathroom. It may have cost me $1 to use it and it didn’t have any paper but it was well worth it. Hot tip: ALWAYS carry tissues with you when traveling! I scanned the water and bid adieu to Coral I before boarding the bus to the airport.

We were back in civilization and for the first time since boarding the yacht we had cell service again! No cell and no internet was a treat for a few days but I was eager to check in and see how things were going at home.

Billy accompanied us until we got to the airport and were reunited with our luggage. As he said his final farewell to the group he had a simple request, “One thing I ask; keep Galápagos in your heart please.” I can guarantee that won’t be a problem.

We gathered our luggage and Billy directed us to the bus that would take us to the ferry. The short bus ride was stopped twice to make way for giant iguanas leisurely crossing the road; they know that this is THEIR island!

At the dock our luggage was loaded onto the roof the ferry for the short ride across the stunning channel; watching the luggage piled on top with not much to keep it from slipping off was quite nerve wracking! I snacked on some coconut crackers I’d squirreled from the boat and was sad that my island hopping was over.

Ali and Jouhayna, the newlyweds, were the only others also returning to Puerto Ayora instead of flying out that day. Ali asked if we wanted to share a cab for the 40 minute ride to town since the taxi stand said they could take five people. Sounded like a great idea until the driver passed the row of vans and led us to a pickup truck. Taking five people meant four would have to squeeze into the back seat barely big enough for three, or someone would have to ride in the back. That was a hard pass and we called over a second driver.

Not only do seatbelts seem not to be a necessary thing on the island, we couldn’t even access them in our cab as they were covered. C’est la vie! Somehow thru some very broken Spanish we were able to communicate with our driver that we’d love to stop by the magma sink hole we’d zoomed by on the bus on the way to town days prior. He was happy to oblige and waited while we rushed down the short fern-lined path to take in the sight of the massive hole. There is no way to comprehend the depth and enormity of this hole from pictures but it was massive. I actually ran part of the short length of trail up the side and it felt incredibly refreshing to move my body. Back on the road I realized we probably weren’t supposed to make our own stop there as a large sign in front of a National Park building clearly stated, “In order to preserve the unique biodiversity of the Galápagos islands, current legislation states that all tourists must be accompanied by a Galápagos Certified Guide during their visit to the tourist sites.” The bolding is per the sign. Oopsie.

We were able to get checked into our adorable AirBnB earlier than the stated check-in time and the little two-bedroom cottage did not disappoint. All of our phone batteries were getting low and Kyra’s actually died. We charged phones while taking a few minutes to lightly settle and plan the afternoon. A super quick bout of research on Puerto Ayora highlights led me to suggest that after lunch we visit Tortuga Bay Beach and Las Grietas Swimming Hole. But first food, I think all of us were getting hungry and I certainly was. With the advice from our AirBnB host, Donna, we already had a restaurant picked out so we were ready to go. Except Kyra’s phone was frozen. And wouldn’t unfreeze. Her concern was growing as I pulled up a couple articles on my iPad with suggestions. I figured it might be acting wacky from being underwater earlier and the best bet would be to let it dry in a baggie with some silica packs and check it later. The day wasn’t getting any longer and my hunger wasn’t satisfying itself; low blood sugar and hanger were starting to set in. It was getting tense in the room as all frustrations were rising; hers at her phone and mine at my hunger and time slipping by.

She finally agreed to leave it in a silica packed bag so we could go eat. The plan after lunch was to head straight to Tortuga Bay but her plan was to come back to check on her phone. No skin off my back; we didn’t have to stay together at all times. Walking to lunch I studied the solar water storage on the rooftops and enjoyed the street art and adorable tiny cars. Puerto Ayora is obviously a very artsy town.

It is also obviously a town that panders to tourists just like the local at the Isabela airport warned us. Sitting down at TJ’s for lunch they automatically handed us menus written in English. I was starving and so much of the food looked so good. We started with a cocktail and it was the best mojito I’ve ever had. Being assured that the ceviches weren’t large dishes I ordered a ceviche, octopus in coconut sauce, and a pineapple coconut juice. When the food started to come out, all at once, my eyes were bugging out of my head. The ceviche was HUGE and the pineapple coconut juice was actually a smoothie. It was a ridiculous amount of food. The ceviche was fantastic and the octopus was just ok, pretty bland, so at least it was easy for me to not feel bad about not finishing the octopus. I didn’t even finish my one cocktail because there was already too much for my belly to absorb. With the bill, our waitress brought us each a maracuyácello shot; basically a shot made with passion fruit juice and Cana Manabita liquor, a latin passion fruit version of limoncello.

I was soooo full and looking forward to the 2ish mile walk to Tortuga Bay Beach to let my tummy digest. Kyra kept to her plan and went back to the AirBnB to check on her phone, planning to take a water taxi to meet us. I had no idea the path to Tortuga Bay Beach would be such a treat. The undulating cobble trail snaked through the powerful Opuntia Cactus forest. I’ve never walked through a cactus forest before! With more cactus predators on Santa Cruz, ie: tortoises, than most of the other islands I visited, the adaptation fo the prickly plants was obvious with long trunks and their green, paddle-shaped leaves (are they called leaves?) growing high in the sky as opposed to at ground level. Paul and I chit-chatted about the scenery around us and he explained what exactly his and Kyra’s jobs on the oil slope of Alaska entail, it’s very interesting and impressive!

The cactus forest turned to shrubbery and we popped out at Tortuga Bay Beach. The wide beach of soft white sand is supposedly considered one of the best beaches in the Galápagos on many a list and I didn’t get it. Yes, it’s pretty. Yes, it has a wide soft white sand beach. Yes, the waves are great for surfers. But generally it was wildly uninteresting. With the cold water and strong currents it wasn’t even welcoming to dip into the water. And I had to pee. I finally found a spot towards the end of the beach with a shrub high enough for a make-shift stall. On my way there I thought I saw a large sea lion lounging in the sun but realized it was a charred hairy man as I got closer.

With barely any cell reception, and not enough to even get a text message out, we had no idea when, or if, Kyra would show up. A curmudgeonly older lady had stopped to talk to me on the beach and warned me that they lock the gates at the exit of the trail at 5pm so to make sure we made it out by then. This warning actually came in the form of bitching about the fact that the guide who helped book her day never told her that and she learned it from reading a sign. She was in her 70s and had a lot to complain about. She was traveling alone because for some reason nobody she knew had an interest in coming with her; I had an idea what that reason could be! She finally excused herself and I did some people watching; men were jogging up and down the beach, one man was working out beside his surfboard.

A text came thru from Kyra asking if we were still there but I couldn’t get a text out to her. I tried to call but no luck. With the clock getting close to 4 we knew we’d need to leave by 4:15 to not get locked in and figured we’d just give it some more time. I drew an obligatory “Galápagos 2022” in the sand for some pictures and then, to our relief, Kyra appeared at the end of the trail! This could have been a mess if we hadn’t connected with her and then had to leave so I was so relieved. I was even more relieved that she had gotten her phone working and that drama was behind us.

She got a chance to enjoy the cold water for a few minutes before it was time to start back. We walked leisurely, looking at the randomly thorny trees and enjoying the unique forest around us. This outing was definitely more about getting there and back than about the beach itself.

It was too late to get to Las Grietas so instead we spent the rest fo the afternoon wandering the streets of the main drag in Puerto Ayora and shopping. There are some talented artists in this town and I considered a couple larger pieces of art but instead settled on some wooden carvings from a local artisan family and painted feathers. An agua de coco hit the spot between shops; the lady was actually cracking the coconuts fresh and then pouring the water into bottles. Many of the shops had the same shirts and souvenirs in varying qualities and, of course, the further we got from the main pier the better the prices became. It was a fun little shopping spree and I am so glad I have my spare foldable backpack with me so I have an extra bag to haul all my purchases home!

Kyra shared that the first thing she’s going to eat when she gets home is pizza; she has celiac and, as you can imagine, gluten-free pizza crust is not easy to come by in the islands. Heading back towards the AirBnB none of us were particularly hungry but I knew I would need to eat at some point. I also knew that I was gross and exhausted and would not want to leave again once we got back. We walked past a pizza shop with a giant carved wooden octopus in front, and it smelled amazing. I did a double-take and a couple eating at a sidewalk table saw me and assured me that it was delicious, one of the best they’ve ever had with a super thin crust. I couldn’t help myself, I asked Kyra if she was going to hate me for ordering a pizza she couldn’t eat and went for it. Paul and I could split a pizza and salad and they had risotto for her. Perfect. I ordered it to-go figuring it would make sense that Kyra and Paul could keep heading back to the AirBnB to shower and clean up while I waited since we only have one bathroom tonight. There was a little bit of opposition to this plan but in the end it won out. I sat and people watched and felt gross while I waited. It had been almost four hours since we’d left the beach and I was still covered in fine white sand. And I waited. The streets of Puerto Ayora, paved and touristy are such a strong contrast to the sandy streets of Puerto Villamil on Isabela. The waiter brought me garlic bread while I waited some more. My cell phone was down to 3% battery life so I couldn’t even go through pictures; just had to sit and wait. It’s so dumb that one of the few things I skipped bringing from my packing list was a little cell phone power pack. After 35 minutes I finally had my order and realized that I should have asked Kyra and Paul to at least take my purchases back with them! The strap on the bag holding my wooden carvings broke within a minute of getting the food and I spent the next several blocks carefully balancing pizza, salad, risotto, wooden carvings, and another bag. And you know what? The pizza was good but it wasn’t that great.

It’s time to repack again now as tomorrow morning we have to check out of our AirBnB by 9:30am and hit the road by 11am to make the trek back to Guayaquil. I wouldn’t really want to stay much longer in Puerto Ayora so that’s making it easier to get ready to leave.