Little Things

We leave Academy Bay, on Santa Cruz in the Galapagos tomorrow for a 20-25 day sail to the French Polnesian islands of the Marquesas. Our planned port of entry is Atuona, on the island of Hiva Oa. Coordinates = 9 degrees 45 minutes south and 139 degrees west. That means we`ll be travelling south about 600 miles and west about 2800 miles.

A few of the little not-so-glamorous things I`ll miss (or not) about Santa Cruz:

• The nightly serious money "volleyball" games on the town square, by the water taxi docks. The ball is a soccer ball, there`s three to a side, and you pay to play -- usually $1-200 a game, and winner takes all. Lots of side betting. Referees, but no real enforcement of the "carrying" rule, given the weight of the ball.
• The lottery that is the wait for the water taxi. Getting to and from boats requires use of a yellow (eat your heart out, Joni Mitchell) "agua taxi" at 60 cents per ride, 24 hours a day (evenings are $1). These guys motor in and out of the dock and will see you or not, whistles are sometimes responded to .... calling on the radio elicits the usual "uno minuto" but the response time is equally random.
• The traffic patterns -- no lights of course, but very few stop signs, yet everyone seems to yield gently and without acrimony. Tons of motorcycles, scooters, and bicycles.
• At night -- every night -- dozens of kids playing in the town square .. barely supervised, all safe, and all happy. The birth rate here must be astounding.
• The bikes -- many are fitted with pegs on the rear axles, and a special wooden seat on the frame between the seat and the handlebars. Seeing three kids on a single bike is common. You gotta get around I guess.
• The seals -- bold enough to climb on board any boat (including ours) and making it their resting spot. There are cute yes, but they stink, leave small bits of furry hair, and a stubborn brown stain.
• Struggling to buy oil rags, wrenches, and other slightly esoteric items in a place where very few people speak any English. I got to be good at drawing items on a piece of paper, and my favorite store is Bodega Blanco, the "carry everything" hardware store that is the moral equivalent of Home Depot. 10,000 items in stick, as they proudly note. I think they count each screw.
• The soft serve ice cream at Cafe Hernan.
• The streetwide dinner party that happens every night a few blocks up, where the restaurants along the street take over the street with tables and chairs. Three-course dinners for less than $4.
• The gasoline is $1.25/gallon, and the diesel is $1.00/gallon -- locals only, thanks to huge subsidies that keep the islands' tourist businesses (cruise ships and taxis) in business. We paid $4/gallon for the boat`s diesel.
• The twice-weekly freighter that arrives, anchors well offshore, and is unloaded crate by crate, bag by bag, by hand onto sketchy looking small barges that are pushed to shore by agua taxis, and then unloaded again into trucks, crate by crate, bag by bag. Everything by hand.
• No cans. Everything comes in bottles and everything is recycled. The same ships that bring in cases of Pilsener in full bottles (hand unloaded etc.) take the same bottles back the following week, empty. Sodas are 70 cents, with a 50 cent bottle fee. You can´t redeem the bottles -- it´s basically a recycling tax. There are recycling barrels everywhere, and there`s virtually no litter anywhere.
• The black beetles that crunch underfoot and, if provoked, can spread a smelly substance that leads people to go change their clothes.
• The internet cafes that are slow, hot, and humid.
• The rallying sailboats -- groups of sailboats that travel in packs, around the world on compressed schedules. They take over the entire harbour, meet each other in one and only one bar, and never seem to mingle with other sailors who are not in their rally, and never seem to mingle with the locals. They also tend to be insular to the point of rudeness, and refuse to share their radio frequencies (where weather information is shared) with other cruisers. This runs against every ethic I've ever experienced or espoused in sailing, where the principle of local respect and enagagment, and helping each other is meant to extend beyond the dues-paying exclusivity of these rallies. I only hope they move on past us in their haste to notch their belts with a "round-the-world" mark. (Not to cast too wide a spell -- many are very nice people.)
• Lava Flash, our lavenderia, which does our laudry for $1/kilo. However, without explanation, the price just seemed to go up to $1.50. Still a great value, and good service.
• The main drag, filled with curio shops, tour operators, amd restaurants.
• The fish dock, where the boats arrive continuously from sea, -- small open boats -- with ice boxes stuffed with wahoo, tuna, swordfish, etc. The fish are unloaded onto a common table, gutted, skinned, and fileted, and sold as fast as they arrive to restaurant buyers and households. Pelicans and seal lie and sit on the dock table, waiting for scraps. Favorite moment: a pelican with a HUGE fish head stuck halfway down its throat, unable to fly, and trying desperartely to swallow it whole. 10 minutes later, it hopped off into the mangroves alongside the dock. I hope it made it.
• The nightly rain, the daily heat, and the respite of cool air in the highlands.
• The wonderful people of the Galapagos, who have embraced us and welcomed us and made us feel a part of their islands for a few weeks. God bless them and their fair islands. Special shout out to Antonio, Conchita, and El Gato!

More postings when we get to the Marquesas. Be good.