Saturday, May 30, 2009

Galápagos Adventure

It may be said that natural selection is daily and hourly scrutinising, throughout the world, every variation, even the slightest; rejecting that which is bad, preserving and adding up all that is good; silently and insensibly working, whenever and wherever opportunity offers, at the improvement of each organic being in relation to its organic and inorganic conditions of life. We see nothing of these slow changes in progress, until the hand of time has marked the long lapse of ages, and then so imperfect is our view into long past geological ages, that we only see that the forms of life are now different from what they formerly were.



The climax of our Ecuadorian adventure took us to that place where the Mystery of Mysteries might be viewed – The Galápagos Islands. Located some 600 miles off the coast of Ecuador, it requires a plane trip from Guayaquil and then a combination of ferry and bus to get to the Puerto Ayura in Santa Cruz, the launching point for trekking the islands.

As is always the case in Ecuador transportation adventures precede most travel adventures and this trip proved no different. Our flight from Cuenca to Guayaquil on Sunday night was canceled at the last minute. So we were forced to take a bus ride from Cuenca to Guayaquil. The ride itself, which is usually treacherous as one has to pass over the Caja mountains, was not bad. We were treated to a gaggle of garrulous Uruguayans on tour in Cuenca (lots of “juhz”) with the only difficulty being whether Norm should mix his travel medicines (Tylenol Sinus for airflight with Dramamine for bus travel). He ended up bucking both the pharmaceutical gods and their commandments (Thou shalt take medicine everyday) and went Cold Turkey for the trip. Arriving in Guayaquil ca, 1 AM we managed to get a decent hotel downtown for the night. After a few hours of sleep we found ourselves on the plane to the Galápagos.

The islands are found at the coordinates 1°40'N-1°36'S, 89°16'-92°01'W. Straddling the equator, islands in the chain are located in both the northern and southern hemisphere with Volcan Wolf and Volcano Ecuador on Isla Isabela being directly on the equator line. Española the southernmost island and Darwin the northernmost island are spread out over a distance of 220 km (137 miles).

The Galapagos Archipelago consists of 7,880 square km (3,042 sq. miles) of land spread over 45,000 square km (28,000 miles) of ocean. The largest of the islands, Isabela, measures 4,640 square km and making up half of the total land area of the Galapagos. Volcan Wolf, on Isabela is the highest point with an elevation of 1,707 m (5,600 ft.) above sea level.

DAY 1: MONDAY, MAY 18, 2009 (BALTRA, SANTA CRUZ) 

SEPTEMBER 15, 1835 -- This archipelago consists of ten principal islands, of which five exceed the others in size. They are situated under the Equator, and between five and six hundred miles westward of the coast of America. They are all formed of volcanic rocks; a few fragments of granite curiously glazed and altered by the heat, can hardly be considered as an exception. Some of the craters, surmounting the larger islands, are of immense size, and they rise to a height of between three and four thousand feet. Their flanks are studded by innumerable smaller orifices. I scarcely hesitate to affirm, that there must be in the whole archipelago at least two thousand craters. 

We landed at the airport on the island of Baltra. The airstrip was originally constructed by the U.S. army to protect the Panama Canal during WWII but was eventually ceded back to the Ecuadorians. This tidbit of information provided us our first experience with the fragility of the islands and the unavoidable theses of Struggle for Existence / Natural Selection. Introduction of foreign species by the U.S. soldiers as well as noise pollution from the planes had effectively eliminated certain populations of species from the island.

During the 1940s scientists decided to move 70 of Baltra's Land Iguanas to the neighboring North Seymour Island as part of an experiment. This move had unexpected results for during the military occupation of Baltra in World War II, the native iguanas became extinct on the island. During the 1980s iguanas from North Seymour were brought to the Charles Darwin Research Station as part of a breeding and repopulation project and in the 1990s land iguanas were reintroduced to Baltra. As of 1997 scientists counted 97 iguanas living on Baltra; 13 of which were born on the islands.

We took the bus-ferry-bus to Puerto Ayora on the island of Santa Cruz. There we loaded up on our boat and then went back to the island to Check out the Charles Darwin Research Center. On the way to the Research Center we passed through the town and took in the local sights. We noted the local Sea Shepherd organization and thought about signing Steve McFadden up but decided to wait on that one. Along with all the ecological trinkets being sold in the local shops, one finds old Darwin being sold as a commodity. And literally, it is the old Darwin (bald and long, gray beard) who is for sale and not the 26-year old Darwin who actually tread upon the islands in 1835. Why sell the old man as the icon? Closer looking to an Old Testament God or Santa Claus? Perhaps the most fascinating commodification was the T-shirt merging old man Darwin with heroic Che Guevara. The brilliance of capitalism or a testament to the syncretic mind of the human beast? How many possible stories can we load into one character?

The natural history of these islands is eminently curious, and well deserves attention. Most of the organic productions are aboriginal creations, found nowhere else; there is even a difference between the inhabitants of the different islands; yet all show a marked relationship with those of America, though separated from that continent by an open space of ocean, between 500 and 600 miles in width. The archipelago is a little world within itself, or rather a satellite attached to America, whence it has derived a few stray colonists, and has received the general character of its indigenous productions. Considering the small size of the islands, we feel the more astonished at the number of their aboriginal beings, and at their confined range. Seeing every height crowned with its crater, and the boundaries of most of the lava- streams still distinct, we are led to believe that within a period geologically recent the unbroken ocean was here spread out. Hence, both in space and time, we seem to be brought somewhat near to that great fact -- that mystery of mysteries -- the first appearance of new beings on this earth.

Anyway, after the business of Darwin we entered the science of Darwin at the Research Center. There we saw a great deal of tortoises from the several islands. Although they provide the islands with both name (“Galápago" is an old Spanish word, meaning saddle) and icon (next to Darwin) they are not a common site in the islands – there are less than 200 in the 13 main islands. They have been slaughtered over the years by various travelers for their meat. Since the tortoises can live for long periods of time with little or no water, and carry upwards to 200 lbs. of meat on their frame, they were ideal for long sea journeys. Introduced species have also destroyed habitat and created competition for resources. So, the Research Center offered probably the best view of these creatures. We stopped by nurseries and visited Lonesome George, who is the last surviving tortoise from one of the islands. He is about 80 yrs. old now so has another 70 years to go to produce some offspring. They’ve been trying to hook him up with related species, but so far no luck.


I have not as yet noticed by far the most remarkable feature in the natural history of this archipelago; it is, that the different islands to a considerable extent are inhabited by a different set of beings. My attention was first called to this fact by the Vice-Governor, Mr. Lawson, declaring that the tortoises differed from the different islands, and that he could with certainty tell from which island any one was brought. I did not for some time pay sufficient attention to this statement, and I had already partially mingled together the collections from two of the islands. I never dreamed that islands, about 50 or 60 miles apart, and most of them in sight of each other, formed of precisely the same rocks, placed under a quite similar climate, rising to a nearly equal height, would have been differently tenanted; but we shall soon see that this is the case. It is the fate of most voyagers, no sooner to discover what is most interesting in any locality, than they are hurried from it; but I ought, perhaps, to be thankful that I obtained sufficient materials to establish this most remarkable fact in the distribution of organic beings. 

We returned back to the boat and settled into our routine of boat travel with our group. Our itinerary was to travel by night to different islands, wake up anchored outside a new island, have some breakfast, go for a hike on the island, snorkel around the island, and then return to the boat for lunch, dinner, and relaxation. Tough stuff, I know. Our group consisted of a Norwegians, Danes, Swiss Germans, and Austrians. As usual a very international group who we got along well with.

DAY 2: TUESDAY, MAY 19, 2009 (SANTA CRUZ, SANTA FE) 

We started the day with a hike around the twin craters of Santa Cruz. They are not volcanic craters but more like sink holes. We followed this up by getting back on the boat and taking a short journey to the island of Santa Fe. There we had a chance to snorkel for the first time. The highlight of the snorkeling was getting up close to the seals and getting some good above water and underwater shots. After lunch we landed on the island and took a short hike around the beach area. Too many seals to count! They were either frolicking in the surf or lounging on the beach. You could get pretty close to them, even lie down next to them if they were asleep, but too close and you gut some guttural barks and coughs.

WHEN on board H.M.S. 'Beagle,' as naturalist, I was much struck with certain facts in the distribution of the inhabitants of South America, and in the geological relations of the present to the past inhabitants of that continent. These facts seemed to me to throw some light on the origin of species—that mystery of mysteries, as it has been called by one of our greatest philosophers. On my return home, it occurred to me, in 1837, that something might perhaps be made out on this question by patiently accumulating and reflecting on all sorts of facts which could possibly have any bearing on it. After five years' work I allowed myself to speculate on the subject, and drew up some short notes; these I enlarged in 1844 into a sketch of the conclusions, which then seemed to me probable: from that period to the present day I have steadily pursued the same object. I hope that I may be excused for entering on these personal details, as I give them to show that I have not been hasty in coming to a decision.

In considering the Origin of Species, it is quite conceivable that a naturalist, reflecting on the mutual affinities of organic beings, on their embryological relations, their geographical distribution, geological succession, and other such facts, might come to the conclusion that each species had not been independently created, but had descended, like varieties, from other species. Nevertheless, such a conclusion, even if well founded, would be unsatisfactory, until it could be shown how the innumerable species inhabiting this world have been modified, so as to acquire that perfection of structure and coadaptation which most justly excites our admiration.

DAY 3: WEDNESDAY, MAY 20, 2009 (ESPAÑOLA)

We traveled by night to the next island – Española and so woke up with a new island staring us in the face. We continued with our routine of snorkeling and hiking and it was here that we really started to see the diversity of bird and reptile species. Hiking we saw tons of iguanas around the rocks, the ubiquitous seals, blue-footed boobies, and frigate birds; snorkeling, we saw turtles, sharks, and various fish.

Yet unless it be thoroughly engrained in the mind, I am convinced that the whole economy of nature, with every fact on distribution, rarity, abundance, extinction, and variation, will be dimly seen or quite misunderstood. We behold the face of nature bright with gladness, we often see superabundance of food; we do not see, or we forget, that the birds which are idly singing round us mostly live on insects or seeds, and are thus constantly destroying life; or we forget how largely these songsters, or their eggs, or their nestlings, are destroyed by birds and beasts of prey; we do not always bear in mind, that though food may be now superabundant, it is not so at all seasons of each recurring year.

I should premise that I use the term Struggle for Existence in a large and metaphorical sense, including dependence of one being on another, and including (which is more important) not only the life of the individual, but success in leaving progeny. Two canine animals in a time of dearth, may be truly said to struggle with each other which shall get food and live. But a plant on the edge of a desert is said to struggle for life against the drought, though more properly it should be said to be dependent on the moisture. A plant which annually produces a thousand seeds, of which on an average only one comes to maturity, may be more truly said to struggle with the plants of the same and other kinds which already clothe the ground. The missletoe is dependent on the apple and a few other trees, but can only in a far-fetched sense be said to struggle with these trees, for if too many of these parasites grow on the same tree, it will languish and die. But several seedling missletoes, growing close together on the same branch, may more truly be said to struggle with each other. As the missletoe is disseminated by birds, its existence depends on birds; and it may metaphorically be said to struggle with other fruit-bearing plants, in order to tempt birds to devour and thus disseminate its seeds rather than those of other plants. In these several senses, which pass into each other, I use for convenience sake the general term of struggle for existence.

DAY 4: THURSDAY, MAY 21, 2009 (FLOREANA) 

Floreana was probably most noteworthy for the great amount of albatross that live on the island. Huge birds who have to take off from the high cliffs in order to get airborne. 

Seeing this gradation and diversity of structure in one small, intimately related group of birds, one might really fancy that from an original paucity of birds in this archipelago, one species had been taken and modified for different ends. 

DAY 5: FRIDAY, MAY 22, 2009 (NORTH SEYMOUR, BALTRA) 

No one ought to feel surprise at much remaining as yet unexplained in regard to the origin of species and varieties, if he makes due allowance for our profound ignorance in regard to the mutual relations of all the beings which live around us. Who can explain why one species ranges widely and is very numerous, and why another allied species has a narrow range and is rare? Yet these relations are of the highest importance, for they determine the present welfare, and, as I believe, the future success and modification of every inhabitant of this world. Still less do we know of the mutual relations of the innumerable inhabitants of the world during the many past geological epochs in its history. Although much remains obscure, and will long remain obscure, I can entertain no doubt, after the most deliberate study and dispassionate judgment of which I am capable, that the view which most naturalists entertain, and which I formerly entertained—namely, that each species has been independently created—is erroneous. I am fully convinced that species are not immutable; but that those belonging to what are called the same genera are lineal descendants of some other and generally extinct species, in the same manner as the acknowledged varieties of any one species are the descendants of that species. Furthermore, I am convinced that Natural Selection has been the main but not exclusive means of modification.

We ended up our cruise by traveling back north to North Seymour Island. This was one of the smaller islands that we visited, but in some ways the most interesting and picturesque. Since it was so small, you really got the island experience – water on all sides, sparse resources on land, etc… And it was here that we really got a chance to look at the Frigate birds in mating season. The males blow up their red gullet sack to incredible proportions in order to attract interested female parties. Alas, size and color seem to matter. So, strike another chord for “peacocking” at the local bar. Someone should pass on the word to Lonesome George.

After North Seymour we went back to Baltra where we said goodbye to our group and then returned for two extra days to Santa Cruz. In Santa Cruz we met up with some Cuenca friends and enjoyed a bit of dry land for our tired sea legs. We returned to Cuenca in time to see Barcelona beat Manchester United in the Champions League and to read about the criminalization of empathy by compassionate conservatives. Meanwhile, Nature doesn’t care.

Our Voyage having come to an end, I will take a short retrospect of the advantages and disadvantages, the pains and pleasures, of our circumnavigation of the world. Many of the losses which must be experienced are obvious; such as that of the society of every old friend, and of the sight of those places with which every dearest remembrance is so intimately connected. These losses, however, are at the time partly relieved by the exhaustless delight of anticipating the long wished-for day of return. If, as poets say, life is a dream, I am sure in a voyage these are the visions which best serve to pass away the long night. Other losses, although not at first felt, tell heavily after a period: these are the want of room, of seclusion, of rest; the jading feeling of constant hurry; the privation of small luxuries, the loss of domestic society and even of music and the other pleasures of imagination. 

Let us now look at the brighter side of the past time. The pleasure derived from beholding the scenery and the general aspect of the various countries we have visited, has decidedly been the most constant and highest source of enjoyment. It has been said, that the love of the chase is an inherent delight in man -- a relic of an instinctive passion. If so, I am sure the pleasure of living in the open air, with the sky for a roof and the ground for a table, is part of the same feeling, it is the savage returning to his wild and native habits. I always look back to our boat cruises, and my land journeys, when through unfrequented countries, with an extreme delight, which no scenes of civilization could have created. I do not doubt that every traveller must remember the glowing sense of happiness which he experienced, when he first breathed in a foreign clime, where the civilized man had seldom or never trod. 

There are several other sources of enjoyment in a long voyage, which are of a more reasonable nature. The map of the world ceases to be a blank; it becomes a picture full of the most varied and animated figures. Each part assumes its proper dimensions: continents are not looked at in the light of islands, or islands considered as mere specks, which are, in truth, larger than many kingdoms of Europe. Africa, or North and South America, are well-sounding names, and easily pronounced; but it is not until having sailed for weeks along small portions of their shores, that one is thoroughly convinced what vast spaces on our immense world these names imply. 

He may feel assured, he will meet with no difficulties or dangers, excepting in rare cases, nearly so bad as he beforehand anticipates. In a moral point of view, the effect ought to be, to teach him good-humoured patience, freedom from selfishness, the habit of acting for himself, and of making the best of every occurrence. In short, he ought to partake of the characteristic qualities of most sailors. Travelling ought also to teach him distrust; but at the same time he will discover, how many truly kind-hearted people there are, with whom he never before had, or ever again will have any further communication, who yet are ready to offer him the most disinterested assistance. 


Thursday, May 28, 2009

FROM QUILOTOA TO COTOPAXI TO PUERTO LOPEZ (PART 2) AND BACK TO CUENCA


April 15 to May 15 is usually a busy time for us in any part of the world as we celebrate Bridget’s birthday, our tax return, Mother’s Day, Lizzie’s Birthday and our wedding anniversary; but this month was even fuller in Ecuador as we hosted friends, traveled from mountains to sea, and lived and died a little with the local soccer team.

QUILOTOA, COTOPAXI, QUITO

In the first week of April we bundled ourselves up for a bus ride up to Quito with a stop by some volcanoes along the way. We took the bus up to Latacunga, launching point for visits to the Avenues of the Volcanoes. Arriving at 10 PM in Latacunga after a 8-hour bus ride, Lizzie decided to christen the end of the journey with a multi-colored baptism.

The next day we traveled up to the volcanic crater lake of Quilotoa (3,914m / 12,841 ft), about 40 km or 2 ½ hours away from Latacunga. As you can see from the photos, the weather was a bit on the cool side. Immediately upon arriving we availed ourselves of the almuerzo (set lunch) starting with the traditional potato soup (locro de papa). The crater was quite the magnificent site. For one thing, you can actually see it as the clouds, which often obscure the other volcanic areas, rest above the rim.
After taking in the awesome view for a bit, we hiked down to the lake. The hike down took about 45 minutes. And brought us to the spectacularly green-colored and cold lake. A lonesome boatman played a trumpet at the base of the lake. For the scientists among you: The 3 kilometres (2 mi) wide caldera was formed by the collapse of this volcano following a catastrophic VEI-6 eruption about 800 years ago, which produced pyroclastic flows and lahars that reached the Pacific Ocean and spread an airborne deposit of volcanic ash throughout the northern Andes. The caldera has since accumulated a 250 m (820 ft) deep crater lake, which has a greenish color as a result of dissolved minerals. Fumaroles are found on the lake floor and hot springs occur on the eastern flank of the volcano. Julian and Norm decided to hike back up and let Lizzie and Bridget take the easy way out with the mules. The hike up was much more difficult, but eventually surmounted. We spent the night on the rim of the crater at a hostal, where we were invited to hear local musicians play a few songs. Using traditional instruments, including the charango (The charango is a small South American stringed instrument of the lute family, about 66 cm long, traditionally made with the shell of the back of an armadillo.
It typically has 10 strings in five courses of 2 strings each) and pan pipes the show was quite the local flavor.

Deciding to indulge a bit, we took a taxi instead of a bus to our next destination – Cotopaxi (about 50 miles south of Quito). We stayed at a hacienda right outside the national park. Lizzie and Bridget spent the day with the puppies and farm animals housed at the inn, while Julian and Norm decided to scale the Cotopaxi Volcano. Cotopaxi is the second highest volcano in Ecuador (5,897m / 19,347 ft; Chimborazo is number 1 at 6,268.2m /20,565 ft) and one of the highest active volcanoes in the world. To get to the summit requires a 2-day excursion. Julian and Norm opted for the “soft” trip and merely hiked from the parking lot (ca. 4500 m) to the base camp (ca. 4800m). Unfortunately, the Gods did not smile brightly enough on our trip to pierce the dense cloud cover; and so, we did not get a chance to see the summit. Julian and Norm might go back to try to ascend the summit; or they might save up the last hike for the mighty Chimborazo (base camp only- ca. 5000m). After hiking to the glacier part of the refuge, Norm and Julian rode mountain bikes down the mountain. Quite fast and cold. 

That night we traveled to Quito to pick up our friends, Suzanne and Norman Matlock from Philadelphia. They arrived safely and without any trouble from Miama via Newark and we all stayed overnight in a hostal in Quito. The hostal was in a quiet section of town and adequate, but we still have not found a great place to stay in Quito. But a minor inconvenience, because it was onto…

PUERTO LOPEZ, PART 2 AND BACK TO CUENCA

Part 2 because Bridget had been there with Mary Ellen a few weeks before. But it is quite the stunning beach experience and so repeating the experience seemed more than worth it. We stayed in the Mandala Hostal and lived it up on the good cuisine and good sun. Everyone except Bridget went out to the Isla la Plata where we had the chance to see Blue-Footed Boobies and Frigates on the barren island some 25 miles off the coast. Probably the highlight was the boat ride out where we saw an immense group of dolphins swimming alongside the boat accompanied by dive-bombing boobies. The video is better than the photos, and if we ever get the energy we will put up a video on the blog.

After a few more sunsets we took the bus back to Guayaquil and then flew back to Cuenca. In Cuenca we celebrated Bridget’s birthday at a nice Chilean restaurant on the outskirts of Cuenca. The occasion was made more special with the Chimay Trappist Ales that Suzanne had somehow managed to successfully smuggle into the country. First real beer in over 6 months!

After a few days in Cuenca, Suzanne and Norman left to go tend to their bees in Mt. Airy and we settled down to our Cuenca routine. We celebrated Mother’s Day by providing “Breakfast in Bed” for Bridget, and then we celebrated Lizzie’s birthday with a Sushi Dinner and a little sleepover party. The birthday party included bobbing for apples and musical chairs. Hard to tell who enjoyed it more – the kids or the adults.

As we pondered the skyline view from our apartment we were treated to a fun ride with the local soccer team. As you recall, dedicated reader and sports enthusiast, from an earlier blog entry, Deportiva Cuenca had miraculously qualified for the South American Clup Championships called the Copa Libertador. As the third team to qualify from Ecuador and in a group with the perennial Argentinian power Boca, Jrs. (Think Yankees, Cowboys, Celtics, Canadiens and you get the idea) Cuenca’s prospects were not that good to begin with. Additionally, the club had been reformatted since their qualification and had gone with a “youth-movement” approach (primarily to save money as they teetered on the brink of insolvency). Yet despite all odds the team played quite well, and with a greater offensive flair, were actually quite exciting to watch. In order to advance out of group play, Cuenca had to finish in the top 2 of the four-team group. And so, they found themselves with 2 games to go tied for second place when who should show up in Cuenca – but mighty Boca. No Ecuadorian club had ever beaten Boca. But the Liliputians actually won, 1-0. Boca plays a tough defense / counterattack – not quite as boring as the Italian “catanaccio” or the German “Ordnung muss sein” - but similar. And so the Cuenca players were getting mugged repeatedly. But finally their goal scorer – the Brazilian Roderigo Teixara – was able to turn on a defender and hold off the punches and deliver a pass to his teammate who scored. Absolute pandemonium.

The night was made even more festive as it was one of the last nights to drink before the national elections (remember: 1) all Ecuadorians are required to vote; and 2) all bars and liquor stores are closed for the 3 days surrounding the elections). As for the national elections, Raphael Correa, was re-elected. Let’s see if he can beat the Ecuadorian / Latin American malaise of revolving door presidents. Note: Cuenca made it to the next round for the first time ever, but lost to Caracas, Venezuela in the round of 16.

The month ended with missed opportunities - Jesus Christ Superstar in Quito and the Doors in Cuenca, but with the finalization of plans to go to the Galápagos Islands – the jewel in the crown.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Puerto Lopez: The Jersey Shore It Aint

There is water. There is sand. There is sun. There are birds.  There are boats. Beyond these similarities, the coast of Ecuador has few comparisons to the Jersey shore.  Our first visitor from the U.S. was my great friend, Mary Ellen St. George.  She loves the sand and the warm climate, oh and I guess she loves us too, so I decided to take her to a beach here called Puerto Lopez.   However, in order to have her really appreciate the beautiful environment of the hostel there, we had to spend a night in a  freezing cold, spare, noisy hostel in Quito.  Traveling with me can be quite, um adventuresome, because I have a high tolerance for a wide range of accommodation and travel standards, from a shack to the Hyatt Regency and everything in between.

     The next morning we hopped on a quick flight to Manta.  I should have let the taxi driver take us to Puerto Lopez for $30, but noooo, we had to save money by taking the $3 Jippi Jappa bus to Puerto Lopez.  No shocks, no bathroom, tight seats, a real third world experience.  We arrived safely 3 hours later and plopped our bags on a cute motorcycle taxi to the beautiful Hostel Mandala.  
  
  Located on an isolated undeveloped stretch of beach on the northern end of this fishing village, this hostel was built by an Italian and Swiss-Italian couple who we didn't have the pleasure to meet because they were out of town.  The hostel is a work of art.  Nicely appointed thatched roof cabins immersed in lush botanical gardens.  I truly enjoyed walking through the gardens with Mary Ellen every day as she pointed out the different species of plants and flowers, of which she was very knowledgeable.  The hostel is appointed with wood on many surfaces and each wooden construction is a piece of art, from the gates that invite you into the place to the frames around the bathroom mirrors, to the inlaid restaurant tables, to the toilet seats, to the giant key rings for the locks on the door.  How I lost that giant pinguino key ring is still a mystery to me.
     Across from the hostel is a nice white sand beach looking out on to the warm Pacific Ocean.  The hostel provides open air thatched cabanas where you hang your hammocks and drink bottles of beer or carafes of wine.  It's also a great place to watch Frigate birds and Pelicans diving into the ocean while the sun gets buried at days end.  Day one was for lounging on the beach and mild intoxication.  
     Day two was for our fantastic adventure to Isla de La Plata, so called for the shiny bird dung that covers the island.  This island is located about 30 miles from the village, so it's a full day boat trip. It is affectionately known as the poor man's Galapagos.   There are colonies of birds there that are only located there and the Galapagos Islands.  We trekked along with our guide on the dry, hot island and almost immediately came upon a baby Blue Footed Booby (I can never say this without a British accent) sitting under a tree.
The birds have no fear of humans and remain under their bush as you approach.  The babies don't get the color in their feet until later.  A little further on we ran into a Booby couple.  They were playing and scrapping at each other with all kinds of fun squawks.  Finally, we came to a huge Frigate Bird colony.  These birds are huge and have very cute eagle like faces.  I was enthralled by the numbers, size, and beauty of their flying.  The guide gave us the option of carrying on to see the Red Footed and Masked Boobies, but as Mary Ellen pointed out, "If you've seen one Booby, you've seen 'em all."  I pointed out that this probably isn't true for the birds or other kinds of boobies either.  However, we turned around and headed back to the boat so that we might have more time for snorkeling.  
    The guide decided to take us back on a trail that maybe wasn't an official trail and might be a bit "slippery", but would get us back faster.  That was the understatement of the day.  The trail had 45 degree slopes of dry dirt, grass and rubble.  Some of the tourists were unprepared for this terrain in their flip flops and were paralyzed with fear on their descent.  Even those of us with "sensible shoes" slid down and arrived with scratches and bits of twig sticking out of our legs and butts.  These are experiences nobody would have in the U.S. for fear of lawsuits.  Anyway, everyone did eventually make it back down the hill and we had a nice time snorkeling before heading back for the day.  We caught an amazing sunset at days end on our beach back at Mandala.
     The next day was for once last beach experience and then a hefty 8 hour bus trip back to Cuenca.