Four Wet Landings and a Funeral

The panga pulls up as close to the shore as it can without ramming the motor into the sand. Seven of us pile out, one at a time, splashing into the small waves and wading up onto the black sand beach - leaving our life jackets behind. 

This wet landing did not include acrobatics and drenched back packs. Some do.

We wait and watch as the second panga pulls to shore and the next seven disembark - including our Galápagos guide Karina. The shortest member of our Road Scholar group performs some acrobatics negotiating the jump from the bulbous rubber raft to the sandy shallows. Wet to her waist, she is good natured and the camera safe in her husband’s pack.

This is Santiago Island, where the basalt from the volcanoes that formed these islands six hundred miles off the coast of Ecuador has been eroded by wind, wave and creature action yielding the coarse black sand. This is one of several wet landings we have during our weeklong exploration of the Islands which so captivated Charles Darwin.

I survey the vegetation and critters up shore and turn to see mother ship “Wittmer Tip Top IV” stately on the horizon. Breathing in the warm damp air, I get all leaky-eyed with gratitude again - my typical response to the privilege of viewing worlds previously unknown to me. Last week we were at the top of the world, 12000 feet up at Machu Picchu! Breathtaking in all ways!

“Careful, don’t step on the Iguanas!” Karina’s cautionary exclamation brings me back to the practical. Indeed, there seems to be a carpet of the foot long black marine reptiles impeding our progress further up the beach. Yesterday, during a dry landing, at the rocky shore, of Genovesa Island, we were so excited to see a few dozen land Iguanas which were much more colorful than these - their marine cousins. Here on Santiago there must be HUNDREDS of the reptiles on this small strip of beach alone!

The stars of yesterday’s outing were the Frigate Birds with their distinctive split tails and graceful gliding through the blue. Males boast huge inflatable red throat sacks, looking so much like our red life jackets as to be comical, and bringing new meaning to the concept of inflation. They seem to deflate slowly and sadly when the female spurns the display. Also noted were a plethora of Nasca Boobies, whose yellowish beaks and brownish feet seem drab and colorless to me. I feel like Veruca Salt in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. “I want a Blue Footed Booby NOW, Daddy!”

Day five I have my chance. Oh, the BLUE of those gawky bird’s feet AND beaks! Kind of a turquoise-ish to aqua, depending on their diet. They got the Booby name from the Spanish “bobo” - meaning clownish. They are goofy looking creatures and I fall madly in love with them and even, I admit, with their red-footed cousins. The Nasca or Masked Boobies lacking that startling color don’t captivate me. Still, I have to marvel at Mama

 Nature’s experimentation.

Snorkeling offers me the chance to overcome a life-long fear of deep water. First adventure is entering the water from the beach. All goes fairly well. Knowing I can stand up at any time gives me confidence. The first mid water attempt - requiring me to plop off the edge of the panga directly into the eighty foot deep living room of sharks, sea lions, sea turtles, chocolate chip starfish and coral - makes my heart race and breathing get to the edge of panic. Of necessity, I use my mommy voice inside my head. “STOP MOVING, Melinda. Just float! The wet suit will keep you up, the snorkel will bring you air. Stop stuggling. Just float.” I heed the voice, come back from the edge of panic and listen to the only sound I can hear - the sound of my own breath slowing and deepening.

What a fabulous living room it is! My curiosity calms me further.  I’m directly over a white-tip shark - two thirds the length of my body. I follow it - trying to mimic its undulating locomotion. I experiment with left/right kicking of my swim-finned feet versus mermaid fashion using both feet in unison, which more closely imitates the shark’s gliding undulations. This is FUN! 

A large Green Sea Turtle turns her head to look me in the eye. I’m transfixed but can’t afford to get leaky-eyed with wonder here. I’ve already discovered that smiling or crying breaks the seal of my mouth around the snorkel and I get a snootful of salt water. “Note the wonder, Melinda, but contain the emotion!” The mommy voice rings in my ears.

Another of our group swims by. I point out the turtle and two sea lions swimming in exquisite Esther Williams synchrony. Also a dancer, Claudia and I share the thumbs-up experience.

My beloved has faced and overcome similar water fears this trip. Karina offers the perfect combo of playful invitation, knowledgeable support, and respectful space.

It is no surprise that her support and calm extends to us a helping hand when a call comes through her cell phone our second to last night on the boat that Mark’s brother-in-law Bob has died in New York. Bob’s timing is impeccable. We’re just able to shift flight arrangements from landing at LAX Sunday night to arriving at JFK Saturday morning. After twenty four hours of travel, we get to the funeral on time and, with a quick trip to Kohl’s and Marshall’s, appropriately dressed for the eighteen degree weather.

My beloved’s eulogy of Brother Bob was so moving. The 250 of us assembled were at benefit of his great gift of compassion, truth-telling and humor. 

After four wet landings and a funeral we are grateful to be home - if leaky-eyed with a combination of gratitude and grief.