I can see why you would think I was joking if I told you, “A sea lion took a dump in our dinghy.”
I’m not.
At first when we saw sea lions it was completely novel. “OH BOY! OH GOSH! Guys! Guys!! GUYS!!! There’s a SEA LION over there!” somebody would say. Thump, thump, thump. People ran topside. Cameras snapped right and left. People pushed each other into the ocean to get the best shot. But then we got to the Galapagos: Sea Lion Central. Sea Lion City. Sea Lion Station. Sea Lion Playground. The Frickin Sea Lion Line at the DMV.
Oh they’re cute as can be. They swim with you, blow bubbles, lounge around the beach, flop up and down to the water. They make creative belching noises. They are EVERYWHERE. I watched one walk all the way from the beach to the road, then settle down in this tree planter in the middle of a town square. I also watched as one attempted to board someone else’s sailboat. How cute, I had thought. How funny. How hilarious. That sea lion is trying to get on that sailboat. (That squirrel can water ski). Little did I know the gravity of the sea lion situation. Later that day, we all drew sober faces upon viewing our dinghy full of sloshing brown excrement. One might even guess there was a whole sea lion potty party while we were gone. The dang things hung out on the dinghy all day, relaxed, took naps, read books, then, whoops, gotta go… oh well, getting back in the ocean, where we normally poop, is just too damn hard.
On Day 2 I decided to go for a run while George followed up on some business early in the AM. Excited to explore sights in the dawning light, with a snazzy new playlist, I began to run away. Nanoseconds later, a series of loud grunts and yelps beckoned me back. Sea lions? Nay. Lately, things had been going wrong at regular intervals, the solutions for which usually required teamwork, responsibility and fun-sacrifice. I turned my head back in what was probably one of the slowest most begrudging looks of anger I could paint over with a plain expression. George was beckoning. I turned, surveyed the damage, sighed and told myself not to be a child. As it went, one of the garbage bags had leaked oil all over the dinghy. Charming. The non-profit educational company shows up in the Galapagos and creates an oil spill. George began to emit louder and louder noises. Children wept. Somewhere, an angel lost its wings. In all, this episode lasted about 7 minutes. In fact, I’m not even sure why I’m telling this story. We took care of everything, and I eventually got to go on my run.
The run turned out to be one of the raddest experiences. I quickly passed out of the tiny town into the real Galapagosian existence. It was a lot like Ecuador – half-finished houses, dirt alleys, colorful laundry hanging in front of grey cement and pushy cab drivers. The cab drivers all seemed to think I needed a ride somewhere. Why else would I be running? One cab followed me slowly, its passenger yelling out the window. They followed me into a dead end. I was slightly alarmed and felt a bit trapped when he yelled, “Where you go, chica?” in a kind of taunting voice. Just then I saw a small path on the side of the road. “This way!” I muttered and sprinted off, disappearing into thick forest. I think I was right in the chorus of Ok Go’s “It’s a Disaster,” at that very moment. So I turned that up a few clicks and flew down a small valley, letting my feet have some extra airtime.
After a few more steps, I was facing one of the most beautiful ponds I had ever seen. There were mangroves on one side and these huge walls of bright green vegetation on the other. It looked like a little inlet of some kind, but I couldn’t see the ocean. The water was exceptionally clear and there were sea turtles paddling around. I had fallen through a choice rabbit hole.
Later that day, I saw a lot of iguanas. They were black and blended in very well with their lava perches. I felt like I had stepped into a Nature special, except that in T.V., you don’t get eaten alive by giant man-eating bird-flies. I got these big purple spots from their bites. They’re gone now. Don’t worry. Don’t worry; the giant welts are gone now. I’m absolutely fine. Giant fly bites = thing of the past.
We went on a few really awesome tours. One was of lava formations. Our guide gunned it over the break and we hurtled towards lava bridges at mach 9. He was probably the best outboard driver EVER. We maneuvered through the most intricate, shallow, sharp, rocky small spaces – sometimes sideways, sometimes backwards, sometimes there was a small reverse, followed by a graceful swing of the bow. It was dressage with twin 75-horse engines and he was quite the equestrian. He didn’t speak any English, but he also didn’t really speak Spanish. When we got to our destination, he waved us off with the back of his hand and lit up a cigarette.
We also took a trip to Kicker Rock (pictured here!!) and drove our dinghy around this little shark-infested area to take pictures. I also walked over LAVA with BARE FEET!! It was a couple of decades after the eruption, so I didn’t get burned.
The Galapagos really lived up to expectations. There really are these amazing animals just hanging out all over the place. I thought there would be a more regimented atmosphere. It was great to explore even if I can’t take home a tortoise.
I’m not.
At first when we saw sea lions it was completely novel. “OH BOY! OH GOSH! Guys! Guys!! GUYS!!! There’s a SEA LION over there!” somebody would say. Thump, thump, thump. People ran topside. Cameras snapped right and left. People pushed each other into the ocean to get the best shot. But then we got to the Galapagos: Sea Lion Central. Sea Lion City. Sea Lion Station. Sea Lion Playground. The Frickin Sea Lion Line at the DMV.
Oh they’re cute as can be. They swim with you, blow bubbles, lounge around the beach, flop up and down to the water. They make creative belching noises. They are EVERYWHERE. I watched one walk all the way from the beach to the road, then settle down in this tree planter in the middle of a town square. I also watched as one attempted to board someone else’s sailboat. How cute, I had thought. How funny. How hilarious. That sea lion is trying to get on that sailboat. (That squirrel can water ski). Little did I know the gravity of the sea lion situation. Later that day, we all drew sober faces upon viewing our dinghy full of sloshing brown excrement. One might even guess there was a whole sea lion potty party while we were gone. The dang things hung out on the dinghy all day, relaxed, took naps, read books, then, whoops, gotta go… oh well, getting back in the ocean, where we normally poop, is just too damn hard.
On Day 2 I decided to go for a run while George followed up on some business early in the AM. Excited to explore sights in the dawning light, with a snazzy new playlist, I began to run away. Nanoseconds later, a series of loud grunts and yelps beckoned me back. Sea lions? Nay. Lately, things had been going wrong at regular intervals, the solutions for which usually required teamwork, responsibility and fun-sacrifice. I turned my head back in what was probably one of the slowest most begrudging looks of anger I could paint over with a plain expression. George was beckoning. I turned, surveyed the damage, sighed and told myself not to be a child. As it went, one of the garbage bags had leaked oil all over the dinghy. Charming. The non-profit educational company shows up in the Galapagos and creates an oil spill. George began to emit louder and louder noises. Children wept. Somewhere, an angel lost its wings. In all, this episode lasted about 7 minutes. In fact, I’m not even sure why I’m telling this story. We took care of everything, and I eventually got to go on my run.
The run turned out to be one of the raddest experiences. I quickly passed out of the tiny town into the real Galapagosian existence. It was a lot like Ecuador – half-finished houses, dirt alleys, colorful laundry hanging in front of grey cement and pushy cab drivers. The cab drivers all seemed to think I needed a ride somewhere. Why else would I be running? One cab followed me slowly, its passenger yelling out the window. They followed me into a dead end. I was slightly alarmed and felt a bit trapped when he yelled, “Where you go, chica?” in a kind of taunting voice. Just then I saw a small path on the side of the road. “This way!” I muttered and sprinted off, disappearing into thick forest. I think I was right in the chorus of Ok Go’s “It’s a Disaster,” at that very moment. So I turned that up a few clicks and flew down a small valley, letting my feet have some extra airtime.
After a few more steps, I was facing one of the most beautiful ponds I had ever seen. There were mangroves on one side and these huge walls of bright green vegetation on the other. It looked like a little inlet of some kind, but I couldn’t see the ocean. The water was exceptionally clear and there were sea turtles paddling around. I had fallen through a choice rabbit hole.
Later that day, I saw a lot of iguanas. They were black and blended in very well with their lava perches. I felt like I had stepped into a Nature special, except that in T.V., you don’t get eaten alive by giant man-eating bird-flies. I got these big purple spots from their bites. They’re gone now. Don’t worry. Don’t worry; the giant welts are gone now. I’m absolutely fine. Giant fly bites = thing of the past.
We went on a few really awesome tours. One was of lava formations. Our guide gunned it over the break and we hurtled towards lava bridges at mach 9. He was probably the best outboard driver EVER. We maneuvered through the most intricate, shallow, sharp, rocky small spaces – sometimes sideways, sometimes backwards, sometimes there was a small reverse, followed by a graceful swing of the bow. It was dressage with twin 75-horse engines and he was quite the equestrian. He didn’t speak any English, but he also didn’t really speak Spanish. When we got to our destination, he waved us off with the back of his hand and lit up a cigarette.
We also took a trip to Kicker Rock (pictured here!!) and drove our dinghy around this little shark-infested area to take pictures. I also walked over LAVA with BARE FEET!! It was a couple of decades after the eruption, so I didn’t get burned.
The Galapagos really lived up to expectations. There really are these amazing animals just hanging out all over the place. I thought there would be a more regimented atmosphere. It was great to explore even if I can’t take home a tortoise.
