We had a very enjoyable stay in San Blas for several days and have now moved on to Isla Isabela, a National Wildlife Preserve that was made famous by Jacques Cousteau in one of his films over 30 years ago. On our way down the coast we had to pass up anchoring here due to a crowded anchorage and a southern ocean swell that would have made anchoring difficult. This time we arrived at about 2PM yesterday to find the anchorage empty, and only one other boat joined us later in the afternoon. There was very little wind all day, so we motor-sailed over, using our mainsail to assist the engine with what little wind there was. The 30 mile passage took us about 5 hours of autopilot-and-GPS-guided effortless voyaging to arrive exactly at the anchorage.
We arrived in Isla Isabella to the sight of hundreds of birds circling in the sky and an initial smell of bird shit (“eau de avian” according to Ed of A Cappella), which had us wondering why we came. We shut up the boat from the “fresh air” of Isla Isabela on the first night to get away from the smell, using our fans to circulate the cooler air in the boat – not sure what we would do when it got hotter on the next day. We met John and Bridget of Sailsoon (in the picture), who were anchored next to us, and they offered to guide us on a tour of the main island. Note the black dots in the air above were hundreds of birds circling over the rather barren island.
We arrived in Isla Isabella to the sight of hundreds of birds circling in the sky and an initial smell of bird shit (“eau de avian” according to Ed of A Cappella), which had us wondering why we came. We shut up the boat from the “fresh air” of Isla Isabela on the first night to get away from the smell, using our fans to circulate the cooler air in the boat – not sure what we would do when it got hotter on the next day. We met John and Bridget of Sailsoon (in the picture), who were anchored next to us, and they offered to guide us on a tour of the main island. Note the black dots in the air above were hundreds of birds circling over the rather barren island. 
There are some trails over and around this volcanic tip of an island, but they are sometimes difficult to follow. Frankly, if we hadn’t had John and Bridget as guides, we probably would have turned back any number of times. This is an example of a frigate bird, fairly newly hatched, sitting about eye-level in the trees. If we weren't careful we could walk right under them and possibly get a dose of bird shit as we did so. 
The rather rugged trail goes over the top of the edge of the crater and down to the edge of Lago Crater (Crater Lake) and then over the lip on the other side – all of this to get to the blue-footed boobies on the north end of the island. It seems the frigate birds control the southern half of the island, and they are nesting everywhere – nests on the ground and nests in the trees, I’m talking eye-level. The trail passed through a wilderness of volcanic rock and dried up trees with twigs poking out into the trail. Then suddenly we would be circling a banana grove, with small pineapples just emerging from some low plants. We saw lizards and iguanas in addition to frigate birds, but had to step carefully to avoid loose lave rocks, burrows into the earth, and spider webs strung across the path. This was an other-worldly trip where we expected dinosaurs or aliens at any time.
When we finally got to the north shore we saw just one blue-footed boobie (and here it is), several yellow-footed ones, and some green-footed ones. We grabbed a couple of pictures to show that we had been there, but no one was handing out the T-shirts; so we had to make do with the pictures. We were expecting crowds of blue-footed boobies with mothers squawking to keep us away from eggs or young ones in nests, but this was the end of the dry season and probably not a good time to give birth to young birds. Our guides, John and Bridget, said that they had been to the island in the rainy season with lots of small birds in nests, leaves on the dry trees we had been passing through and bananas hanging heavy in the banana grove. In the course of the hike we got to smell sulfur from the lake in the crater along with the smell of, you guessed it, more bird shit.I actually had the thought that the Galapagos might not be the wonderful place I have been envisioning, if the smell is this bad. I tried to eat a ham sandwich for lunch and all I could smell was bird shit, which caused my stomach to reject the food. Sheilagh suggested this might be the basis for a new diet – just rub some bird shit lotion under your nose before eating, and anything you tried to eat would turn your stomach. We are scheduled to leave tomorrow for a 15-hour trip to Mazatlan, but we may end up leaving earlier, if we can’t keep any food down.
This is the lovely Sheilagh pausing in her efforts to organize the famous Manos Verdes (Green Hands) Dinghy prior to going into the beach. Yes, she's still smiling. This is an attempt to break up the discussion of bird shit for a brief moment or two.Later in the day we invited John and Bridget over for a spaghetti dinner that evening and a chance to get to know one another better. I was feeling queasy all afternoon. I couldn’t get the smell of bird shit out of my nostrils and each time I noticed the smell a bit stronger, it went right to my stomach. About an hour before our guests were due to come over, Sheilagh pulled out some cherry syrup that was advertised as a way to settle an upset stomach, and I took the allotted dose. No sooner did I swallow it than my stomach protested in a big way and strongly urged me to get to a head. I made it to the head in time, dropped to my knees, and began “worshipping at the porcelain shrine” as my daughter, Kimberly, would have put it.
My stomach felt a bit better after the purging, but it was a little late to cancel the dinner. I made it through dinner with very little food consumption by me and I was a bit quieter during the conversation than I usually am. It’s difficult to “keep it all together” when one has the constant urge to puke. I was ready to take off last night and get away from the smell, but fishermen had ringed the anchorage with buoys guarding nets at about 5PM, preventing our escape until morning, when the buoys and nets would be pulled in. Not to belabor my pain and anguish, I made it through the night and we set off for Mazatlan by noon. Nothing like the smell of fresh air blowing over the boat!
I’m convinced that people who want to preserve nature in its primitive state have never experienced it in its primitive state. Isla Isabela could use some heavy doses of air freshener to make this a pleasant experience. Or perhaps someone could be paid to clean up after the birds, since they won’t clean up after themselves. Hey how about creating aviaries and zoos; so we can see nature in its primitive state but don’t have to smell it? Do I sound like a curmudgeon? So be it!
More later . . .
My stomach felt a bit better after the purging, but it was a little late to cancel the dinner. I made it through dinner with very little food consumption by me and I was a bit quieter during the conversation than I usually am. It’s difficult to “keep it all together” when one has the constant urge to puke. I was ready to take off last night and get away from the smell, but fishermen had ringed the anchorage with buoys guarding nets at about 5PM, preventing our escape until morning, when the buoys and nets would be pulled in. Not to belabor my pain and anguish, I made it through the night and we set off for Mazatlan by noon. Nothing like the smell of fresh air blowing over the boat!
I’m convinced that people who want to preserve nature in its primitive state have never experienced it in its primitive state. Isla Isabela could use some heavy doses of air freshener to make this a pleasant experience. Or perhaps someone could be paid to clean up after the birds, since they won’t clean up after themselves. Hey how about creating aviaries and zoos; so we can see nature in its primitive state but don’t have to smell it? Do I sound like a curmudgeon? So be it!
More later . . .
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