Passage to Isabelle

On April 15th we departed San Cristobal at 3:30 pm for the overnight 80-mile sail to Isabelle. I was very concerned about the inaccuracies of the charts, and knowing their was a strong current pushing us along we opted to motor sail to avoid hitting several islands along our course. With no moon it was pitch black and we couldn’t see a thing.

I also had a lot of consternation about entering Puerto Villamil after seeing aerial photos with pounding surf all around the entrance. Our friend David on Full Circle had left the day before and emailed me his GPS coordinates for entering the harbor, and even though the electronic chart was off the GPS numbers were spot on as we carefully wound our way around markers into the tiny harbor protected by lava outcroppings. The harbor, while seemingly big, only has one small area deep enough for yachts to anchor, and it was chock full. Luckily one boat had left that morning and we squeezed into his space (only having to re-anchor a day later when we swung too close to a boat).

Walking from the dingy dock to the road you run a gauntlet of marine iguanas and big seals.

Little did I know this little beauty had a jealous boyfriend right behind me.

 On the 17th we reconnected with David, Cindy, and Larry off the 50 ft. catamaran Full Circle, with whom we had toured San Cristobal, and arranged a to rent some bicycles for a ride out along the coast. Arriving at the dingy dock, we were amazed by the number of sea lions lazing on the docks and covering all the bench seats in the waiting area. Sensing a photo op, I carefully approached a female laying on a seat and carefully focused the camera. No sooner had I taken the picture then I felt a searing pain in my left calf. I spun around and came eye-to-eye with a large male, who had just bit me and was barking furiously. Discretion being 9/10s of valor, I slowly backed away, trying to avoid the other sea lions who seeming had me surrounded.

Yes, it hurt.

Meryl, having had enough medical emergencies with me over the last two weeks, just shook her head. While the males have four 1 ½ inch long incisors, I brushed it off the incident while Meryl rinsed the blood off with her water bottle. It hurt a lot, but I figured I’d survive. I later learned the males get highly protective of their females during mating season and I shouldn’t have positioned myself in such tight quarters with the seals.

We walked (I limped) about two miles into town and waited while David checked in with the the Port Captain. Fortunately our agent, JC Desoto, was there and we completed our check-in with him. Meryl told him of the sea lion incident and JC recommended I go to the clinic so a doctor could have a look. Luckily it was just around the corner and the doctor saw me immediately. He prescribed some antibiotics and sent me down the hall to a nurse who carefully cleaned and irrigated the wound and put some anti bacterial cream on, along with a big mother-honking bandage. The one positive:  health care in Ecuador is totally free, even the antibiotics. Gotta love that.

The road to Muro de las Lagrimas.

As the tide got higher the waves started breaking over the road, making for a little more challenging riding.

So what do you do after being bitten by a 200 lb. sea lion? We went on a 7-mile bike ride along the seashore to an area called Muro de las Lagrimas  (The Wall of Tears). The bike ride was pleasant, first on a sandy road that paralleled the shore line, then into the desert-like backcountry covered with thorny bushes and cactus plants. Unfortunately David got a flat tire (how do you ever know if the rear tire of a mountain bike is low on air?), so we alternated walking with David and riding.

A wall with no purpose except pain and suffering.

After about 3 ½ miles we parked the bikes and hiked the last ¼ mile to the wall. Between 1946 and 1959 the Isabella Penitentiary Colony was located nearby, home to some of the most incorrigible prisoners in Ecuador. Unfortunately, the guards were worse than the prisoners, many bordering on sadistic as they made the prisoners carry 20 to 40 pound lava rocks several miles in the 90-degree plus heat where they slowly built a towering wall. Many died during the effort and eventually the penal colony was shut down. The Wall, approximately 300 feet long, 50 feet wide, and about 30 feet high, had no purpose but to provide meaningless labor for the prisoners.

As we rode back into town we had to navigate several areas where the upcoming tide had washed onto the road creating a watery trail for some distance.  We had lunch at one of the numerous open air restaurants and plugged into the glacially slow Internet to catch up with mail from home.

Back at the dock, I had a new wariness as I navigated the pathway, first covered with up to twenty 1 to 3 ft. long menacing looking marine iguanas, then through another twenty basking seals. I swear one looked at me and gave that glaring “Don’t screw with me again” look.