Monday, July 6th – For the Birds; Boobies and Beyond – Geneovessa Island.
The general wake up call is at 7:00 A.M. and I lie in bed a few minutes, listening to the faraway clatter of the staff setting out our breakfast. Strong coffee and an ample breakfast buffet await. During the night, we have sailed to Darwin Bay on Isla Geneovessa and we board the pangas at 8:30 for our morning excursion to the island. It is a wet landing on white coral sand and red-footed boobies, nazca boobies and frigate birds are all there to greet us. We split into two groups of 10, the three of us following Delores along the sandy trail. There is little green on the island, most of the bushes and small trees are barren of leaves; their twiggy branches silvery in the cool morning light. Mating season is over and many of the birds are nesting with show white fledglings in their nest. A cloud of white down is an ethereal halo around the blue beaked baby boobies. The boobies build nests in the scraggly trees along side of the trail and have no fear of the two-footed visitors. The comical boobies seem to enjoy the attention from the tourists, turning their heads to offer their best profile and proudly preening their babies in our presence. The birds seem to make eye contact with us and we watch adult boobies, feathering their nests with twigs; seemingly asking our opinion concerning where to place a twig in an existing nest, or if we approve of their proposed nesting site? We enter into a thicket of leafless trees, popping out into a clearing populated with hundreds of frigate birds. A single male sits atop a barren branch, the pouch beneath his neck fully inflated and cherry red; hopeful of attracting a mate. He seems to have arrived at the dance too late. Dozens of frigate birds are already nesting, but they build platform nests and although we see many fluffy white fledglings, we also see nests with broken eggs below. These are the great green frigate birds and their black plumage is an iridescent green in the sunlight. The birds squabble over the privilege of sitting on a nest and the clusters of frigate birds with their hooked craggy beaks, are reminiscent of crotchety old men. The fluffy white frigate fledglings already have the black hooked beak and face that only a mother or father could love. This island is also a nesting ground for nazca boobies and swallow tail gulls and all seem to be living together harmoniously, completely undisturbed by the strange two footed species with a rotating black Cyclops eye that frequents the trails in clusters of ten.
Upon returning to the ship, we are greeted by Hugo, standing formally with a tray of hot cheese hors d’oeuvres and pouring fresh juice for all of us thirsty birdwatchers. Lunch is served at 12:30 P.M; a bowl of hot soup followed by a hot buffet, accompanied by several delicious side salads.
Our afternoon excursion is to the Prince Phillips steps; a dry landing at the bottom of a short cliff with rocky steps carved up to the top of the cliff. The contrasting colors of the orange and black rock against the azure water are striking. We take a short hike to the far side of the island where hundreds of frigate birds catch thermal wind currents, circling above the cliffs, protecting their nesting ground from predators. Their flight activity is intense; their angular black silhouettes darting across the grey sky. This wind swept section of the island is quite barren except for a low, creeping ground cover and a few hearty lava cacti.
Back on board, we are again greeted by Hugo with another selection of hors d’oeuvres and fresh juices. Many of us gather topside to enjoy the warmth of the fading afternoon sunlight, a drink and the spectacular view. Art and I recline on two of the thick blue foam chaises and John, having quickly made friends, sits across from us, playing cards with the other teen agers. We sink into the magic of this perfect hour.
There is a 6:00 P.M. briefing on tomorrow’s activity schedule and our ship has begun to rock and roll. This evening we will cruise 16-hour cruise to Fernandina Island and we are warned of rough seas ahead. I am determined not to be sea sick, but several of the passengers have already succumbed and I notice that Art is looking slightly green. Earlier today, the kitchen took orders for dinner, and I know that garlic shrimp will be served tonight, which, in spite of the rough seas, still sounds good to me. Half of the passengers are missing for dinner, but John and I enjoy big and juicy shrimp. Art sits with us, nibbles a few bites and returns to the cabin. It is a rough night at sea but I sleep well and have intense dreams of being at sea and the ship free falling from the crests of the waves into the troughs.