San Cristóbal 360

​The final country that I visited on my world tour was Ecuador, specifically the Galápagos Islands. I traveled there with my parents, brother Vince, and his wife Rachel. The Galápagos was their first destination on a longer South America trip. For me, it was a standalone 12-day trip.

It might seem a little counter-intuitive to go all the way to the Galapagos without visiting anywhere else in the region. There were three main factors at play. For one, mainland Ecuador is unfortunately experiencing a period of violence and political instability. In January, an armed gang stormed a TV station during a live broadcast. Government crackdowns have escalated into a war against the cartels, leaving locals in fear. Spending time in mainland Ecuador was nixed early in our trip planning. A shame, because there are so many beautiful places like Cotopaxi and Mindo, which I had the chance to see in 2014.

The second reason for the short trip was a happier one – I had already spent 3 months in South America during a summer abroad in Santiago, Chile. The other places my family was going, including Machu Picchu, the Atacama desert, and Iguazu Falls, were places I had ventured in 2015. The third reason was more  practical: I had already been on the move for a year, and didn't feel a need to extend the trip further.

So why go at all? For one, it was a destination high on my list. From a scientific standpoint, it was a place that frequently came up in my biology courses. My brother had studied abroad in Quito in 2012 and visited the islands with his cohort, bringing back stories of sea lions and sleeping white-tipped reef sharks. Plus, going there on a family trip also had sentimental appeal. During my months abroad, my parents had been supporting me and sharing my adventures vicariously. I liked the idea of overlapping for a chapter in South America and making travel memories together as a family. I figured having another Spanish speaker would help my family ease into the metaphorical waters of Latin America. And as it turned out, seeing the Galápagos involved a lot of time in the ocean – so I got to help with some literal easing into the water.
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After just one week in California, I was headed back to the southern hemisphere. But this time, instead of going southwest towards Polynesia and Australia, I was flying southeast to Ecuador.

It was a grueling process of getting from Point A to Point B. It started with a 5:00am flight out of SFO. Then came a 7-hour layover in Houston. We arrived in Quito around midnight. The pre-arranged taxi was too small and had to call another one. We spent the night at an airport hotel, in a dead neighborhood that didn’t feel very close to the safety of the airport. A quick breakfast of eggs and mora juice was a pleasant surprise. I was able identify the juice from the taste, drawing the word “mora” (blackberry) deep from my memory bank. Fruit juices in South America just hit different.

At the Quito airport, we had to register for a special Galápagos TCT entry card and send our bags through biosecurity prior to the normal airport check-in. By 10:30am, we were back in the air on an Avianca domestic flight. The plane didn’t go directly from Quito to the Galápagos. It briefly landed in Guayaquil. During the stopover, the cabin crew was very strict about what activities were permitted. Going to the bathroom? Missed your chance. Left on your seatbelt? Take it off. Using your electronics? Not while the plane is refueling. It was all very strange. At least the flight from the mainland to the islands was a merciful 1.5 hours.

When we stepped off the plane onto the island of San Cristóbal, I couldn’t believe we were actually in the Galápagos. Not only was it a long journey, but there were several setbacks in the months prior. Our first set of flights on Jetblue had been partially cancelled, then fully canceled. Our second set of flights on Aeromexico were also canceled. We finally found a third set with United that worked. We suspect the drop in tourism to mainland Ecuador was a factor in the cancellations. If so, our third flight may have been saved by a coincidence – the Copa America was being hosted in the USA during our trip, drawing Ecuadorian tourists the other way. Another lucky break was the Galapagos entry fee. We paid $100 upon arrival, but in a few weeks, it would increase to $200.

All of the taxis in the Galápagos were white pickup trucks with room for a driver plus 4 people inside. This posed a problem for our group of 5. Thankfully, in most cases we were allowed a passenger riding in the back with the luggage. Rachel was the first to volunteer on our drive from the airport to our AirBNB. There, our bilingual host who now lived in Colorado, gave us a tour of apartment.
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The apartment on San Cristóbal was comfortable. It was on the second floor and had a lovely balcony next to a flowering tropical plant. There were three bedrooms, so I was lucky to have my own. The walls were decorated with posters of Ecuadorian hummingbirds, including the comical sword-billed hummingbird. It had a few quirks. A questionable choice of decoration, a 3D holographic shark with its mouth open, stared up from the dining room table. The plastic-wrapped door stopper looked like a brick of cocaine. But hey, that's part of the AirBNB experience.

There were, however, a few legitimate challenges. One of the two toilets didn’t flush well, even after the host took a second look and thought it was fine. We had to be mindful of food scraps, due to the aggressive ants. And the kitchen was bare bones, to the point of being negligent. Cooking in a place where the tap water isn’t safe to drink is already hard enough… you have to boil or use bottled water for everything including cleaning dishes. Yet the kitchen lacked a tea kettle and microwave. To boil water, you had to manually light the stove using a measly box of matches that was barely up to the task. Few of the pots had lids, prolonging the time to reach boiling. Even a basic pasta and veggie dinner was a nightmare. I accidentally burned my hand on a pot handle, further adding to the frustration (there were no potholders, and maybe one dish towel). But we still succeeding in having some basic hot meals, like black bean burgers.

The main town on San Cristóbal, called Puerto Baquerizo Moreno, charmed us all with its waterfront and laid-back pace. There were piers, parklets, and murals with native animals. Instead of big chain stores, there were mom & pop grocery stores and specialty hardware stores with boating parts. It also felt safe, which I honestly hadn't expected.

It didn't take long to encounter the resident sea lions, resting on rocks or swimming in the water. We had lunch at a café with a view of the beach, where the sea lions awkwardly clambered over each other between sandy naps. I quickly slurped up my iced latte, just in case the ice was made with tap water. But most times when we remembered to ask the wait staff, they enthusiastically told us the ice was made with filtered water.

Our first big adventure was a full day tour called San Cristóbal 360, a boating trip that circumnavigated the island with snorkeling stops. We started at the company’s storefront, conveniently just down the street from the AirBNB, where we tried on wetsuits, masks, and fins. (Compared to some of our later tours on other islands, the San Cristóbal fitting experience was a breeze.)
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Our nature guide for the day, Jonathan, walked us down to the pier where we took a water taxi to the main boat, the Coyote II. There was one other family aboard, of Ecuadorian-Puerto Rican origin, who spoke a mix of English and Spanish. Seating options included sitting at the very back by the motor, which was more stable when bouncing over waves but didn’t have a back support, versus inside the cabin which was bouncier but protected from the wind.

​The first stop was snorkeling at an imposing rock formation called Kicker Rock, located off the northern coast. From a distance, the two halves of Kicker Rock looked like a giant shoe. The steep cliffs visible above the surface continued deep into the ocean. Swimming around the outer perimeter was swimming next to an underwater wall... a little disorienting at first but incredibly unique. There was also a shallower channel that cut through the two halves of the rock. The bottom was visible within this natural breezeway.

​The initial entry into the water was a moment of apprehension. We were armed with wetsuits and floating life vests, but were up against the cold and open ocean. There was no ladder – we swung our legs over the side of the boat. My mom was the first one to bravely take the plunge. Soon we were all in the water, acclimating to the initial temperature shock. The void of the unseen depths was a little scary, but there were plenty of distractions like a sea lion swimming below.

​The rock wall was full of delightful details. Spiky sea urchins with thick needles filled the crevices. I spotted a hieroglyphic hawkfish blending in with the mottled surface. The fan favorite was the “chocolate chip starfish," a fitting name (or maybe we were just hungry).

The ocean waves threatened to drive us into the rock wall, so we had to be careful not to get too close. Meanwhile, the tides lifted and dropped us by an amplitude of a few feet.
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In the shallow channel, there were schools of creolefish, king angelfish, yellowtail surgeonfish, and parrotfish. They nibbled at a current of continuously flowing particles, drifting with the current themselves. We were hoping to see some hammerhead sharks, but they weren’t around. Overall it was an amazing place to snorkel, and a highlight of the islands.

​We climbed back into the boat and warmed up. The boat continued on the 360 route, stopping for a photo op at Cerro Brujo ("wizard mountain"), a neighboring rock formation that looked like a sideways face with a pointy hat. Then we parked in a protected bay for a mix of beach time and more snorkeling. The water here was a bit murky, but we still got to see turtles in the shallows.

​As we passed the halfway point of Punta Pitt, the boat crew cast two fishing lines. I guess it was meant to be a demonstration of low volume sustenance fishing, but they didn’t really give any context. The Galápagos is big on sustainability, including limits on commercial fishing. The catch of the day was a wahoo, which was dramatically reeled in and stored in a cleaning area by the motor. Later in the afternoon, the crew served wahoo sashimi, which was fresh and tasty. We didn’t finish it all, and the crew casually tossed the scraps back into the water. Guess the sharks were having sashimi for lunch too.

​Throughout the day, there were many interesting ocean birds. The frigate birds were large, black scavengers with sharply angled wings and a scissorlike tail. In fact, their Spanish name “tijeretas” is derived from “tijeras,” meaning scissors. The male frigate birds have a bright red throat, which they inflate like a giant balloon to attract mates. There were also blue-footed and red-footed boobies. The red-footed ones hunt farther away from land, so this tour was our main chance to see them. (We later saw blue footed boobies up close… more on that next time!)

​The final stop was at Bahia Rosa Blanca. We took a small pontoon boat to the land and started a short hike. Galápagos conservation efforts focus on leaving the landscapes untouched, so the “trail” was a field of raw, sharp volcanic rock. Since my dad’s balance and depth perception are limited, this was a challenge. My brother and I held his hands for support while he took each step carefully. Rather than going all the way around the lagoon to the normal launch point, we convinced Jonathan to let my dad use a closer launch point, even though it was bending the park rules. Vince and Rachel stayed with my dad, while my mom and I went ahead with Jonathan. Once in the water, I swam back to help my dad into the water. A shark swam past right as I was approaching! The two of us reunited with the group in the water.

The water was murky, but the guide found a few white-tipped reef sharks that were resting on the bottom. They were just dark blurs from the surface, but I was able to swim down and get a closer look. One of them stirred as I approached. They were much bigger than the black-tipped reef sharks I’d seen in French Polynesia and therefore a little more intimidating. (While this was a good first impression, we had even better white-tipped shark encounters on Isabela, the third island.)
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We switched from the interior lagoon to the exterior bay for one more round of snorkeling, trading the sharks for sea lions and sea turtles. It was my first time swimming in close proximity to the playful sea lions, and loved the way they lazily spiraled through the water. In the mix were a few enormous turtles, an astounding sight. They must have been the size of a truck bed, with a fin-span of a few meters. These lumbering dinosaurs slowly browsed the algae on the rocks, seemingly unfazed by our presence.

​Getting my dad back over the lava field, into the pontoon, and aboard the Coyote II was a success. Unfortunately, while we were enjoying our sashimi and pineapple snack, the rocking of the moored boat caused him to fall on the open deck. Thankfully he walked away with minor scrapes only, but it was a reminder that swaying boats were just as hazardous as the rocky terrain.

During the final leg of the boat journey, an enormous pod of bottlenose dolphins put on an acrobatic show for us. They rode the wake of the boat, raced alongside us, and leaped above the surface, sometimes higher than their own body length! Talk about showing off.

​We made it back to Puerto Baquerizo Moreno, and tipped Jonathan for a good tour. He humbly tried to disappear without giving us an opportunity to tip, but intercepted him. Afterwards, my parents and I decided to find a happy hour drink by the waterfront. We passed a beach that was taken over by sea lions, and a road with sea lions passed out in parking spaces. Mojitos were procured, and from the bar, we watched the movements of the boats and birds in the harbor. On the walk back to the AirBNB, we saw a maintenance team removing huge clusters of coconuts from a palm tree, evidently defusing a ticking time bomb.

In the evening, we watched Ecuador play in a Copa America game against Argentina. Ecuador managed to score a tying goal, forcing a sudden death shootout. We could hear cheers and screams of excitement from the street. As the spectacle unfolded, I munched on a bag of tostones with tajin seasoning, the perfect Latin American snack food. Unfortunately, Ecuador lost the shootout, snuffing the locals’ hopes.
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The next morning, we visited the Environmental Interpretation Center, a museum with information about the island’s history and ecology. Like other volcanic archipelagos, the Galápagos are the peaks of underwater mountains, spread out by the easterly motion of the Nazca tectonic plate across a hotspot. Our current location, San Cristóbal, was the oldest and easternmost island. Our trip would end to the west in Isabela, where the volcanic activity was stronger.

The Galápagos is biologically rich in part because it sits at the convergence of several major ocean currents. The Humboldt Current brings cold, nutrient rich water from the south. The Panama Current brings warm water from the north. The Cromwell Current brings in more cold water from the west. These currents brought seeds and plants to the island, but only hardy plants like cacti could take root.  Similarly, the native animal species, like marine iguanas and land tortoises, were all reptiles durable enough to survive the journey on rafts of vegetation.
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Darwin’s visit aboard the Beagle in 1835 continues to be the islands’ biggest claim to fame. His observations of the subtle differences in the finches and tortoises across the archipelago helped shape his theory of evolution. A map of the Beagle’s route showed that Darwin too had enjoyed a 360 tour of San Cristóbal.

The museum had an exhibit comparing finch beak morphologies to different types of tools. My favorite unusual finch incarnations included the woodpecker finch that digs up food by wielding a twig in its mouth, and the vampire finch that sucks the blood of other birds.

The history section of the museum described various attempts to colonize the island, including whalers, pirates, and a failed utopian prison colony. Human settlement, both past and current, seemed to be limited by a paucity of freshwater sources. The absence of a pre-colonial indigenous population struck me as a rare thing to find anywhere in the world.
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The museum was also the start of a path to the pretty Tijeretas Lookout. There were indeed some tijeretas (frigate birds) circling the skies. The trail descended to a funky Darwin statue with oddly proportioned features and a platform where snorkelers could enter the water. We saw turtles, pelicans, and even a marine iguana swimming. An aggressive but cute sea lion hopped up on the platform and made it clear our time was up. Their bite is worse than their bark, so we scurried up the stairs to get away.

​We found the most wonderful spot for lunch, a restaurant with a set menu called Muyu. We loved the quinoa soup, fish entrée, mini dessert, and vegan substitutions for Rachel and Vince. The tableware was made of volcanic rock, including the bowls of aji, a staple chili sauce in Ecuador. A hidden gem like Muyu was one of the perks of seeing the Galápagos “DIY” style, versus an organized cruise.

​In the afternoon, Edison (the taxi driver we met when we first arrived) took us into the highlands to visit La Galapaguera, a tortoise sanctuary. On the way there, I sat in the passenger seat and chatted with Edison in Spanish. I learned that tourism numbers had only bounced back to 70% of their pre-COVID numbers. He pointed out different fruit trees, and told me about his favorite spots in mainland Ecuador.

​The sanctuary could only be visited with a nature guide, and ours was a bit of a tortoise himself. He was wise and spoke slowly with deliberate words. We learned that some of the tortoises were over 100 years old! They were surprisingly mobile despite their bulky shells. Our group walked through the grounds, stopping wherever the tortoises happened to be hanging out. A nursery with protective chicken wire kept the little tortoises safe from predators. We learned that the tortoise breeding program had been so successful that it was no longer active on San Cristobal. Fun fact, the name “Galápagos” is a reference to these tortoises – it’s a Spanish word for "saddle," alluding to the saddle-shaped shells.

On the return to town, I rode in the truck bed and soaked in the greenery of the highlands. It was misty and cold at times, a microclimate within the island, with funny glimpses into country life. One truck going in the other direction was full of black dogs, looking back at me. A person standing in the shoulder was holding an upside-down pig with its feet tied up.
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It was our last night on San Cristóbal. We walked to Playa Mann to see the sunset from this popular viewing beach. The makeup of the crowd was about half people and half sea lions. One baby sea lion searched the whole beach for its group, briefly considered joining ours, then found the right one. It was a great atmosphere.

​San Cristóbal was an excellent introduction to the archipelago. Coming up next post: our visit to the island of Santa Cruz, the biggest population center.