As the tooth rises higher into the sky, begins more like an island of some substance for research. Graphics, and its shape is determined that in fact looked at Santa Cruz. On the western side is Academy Bay, Puerto Ayora, their final destination. Clear at this time, dominate the island, suddenly disappears, leaving behind what appears to be a blank canvas on which a few moments before was very real island. The captain, deliciously (for him), allowsthe team momentarily panicked, and then explains rather noble, that this phenomenon as "Garu effect" is known and is typical of the Galapagos Islands. During the dry season or the season 'Garoua' inversion layer forms over the highlands of the islands and often forms a fine mist. This makes the mist obscured the hill is often invisible to the viewer at a distance. That still is not able to see the horizon accessible lower slopes, and the western skynow clear, is the impression of the island disappear very authentic.
"My God," he exclaims, "fantasy does not know that!" Their resonance occurs in a very different form, and under the water, tell her that the islands do not simply move this size!
All sailing is better off, and goes forward with urgency now that the decision was made to make landfall during the night. Sailing in the darkness increased, the islands, made of black basalt lava and built to appear,incredibly intimidating. Their steep cliffs and rugged, fringed at the base with white foaming water, evoke thoughts Jurassic Park. A frigate bird could easily be converted into a flying dinosaur and sea iguanas morph into a T-rex, which are fertile imagination of their team. Darkness Falls and the clouds obscured the moon, is a very black night. The original hydrographic charts of the area show some lights, but are either not above or below the fall, as onlyone of the most straight forward approach. Fortunately, as the cape last year and opened at Academy Bay, the lights and help craft moored in the bay its small port. There is no docking port is partially repaired here as a corner of the bay, where all the ships, trade, tourism and similar yachts are moored.
Creeping forward, she approaches a huge black casing according to the dim-port LEDs. It 'very poorly lit and there are somelisted for suspicious activity to the search goes wrong. Our crew and stared to look at you, throw a couple of things to make a lighter side of the ship, and when she comes to the gallows, as the arm extends over the edge of the ship towing. At the end of the heavy chain is a very nervous cow on the head. Your mouth is working and her free leg back kicking furiously, but that is all the resistance that gathering, as it is unceremoniously pulled the grid arePage. Fifteen to twenty of these poor animals in the hold of the ship disappear in this way, and their crews are wondering what in barbarous acts which they may be called once in the belly of the ship. Feeling their way higher into the corner where it hopes to have a bed may find it a position of the wave, rode many long and circumference is closely controlled until it keeps you fit at one point, his Captain to abandon it again to enter and moor.
Infinite tinkling of her nose chain,almost until the bitter end of the first port in the mud. With constant waves, have noted that, to let them have freedom of action as possible. This task is performed and created a small stern anchor to reduce swinging, the team set a self-congratulatory cup of tea. Halfway through the mouth to freeze their glasses, as the entire island suddenly plunged into complete darkness. Santa Cruz is on generator power, and power-off time is midnight. Our poor crew glide to their bunks that night witha certain degree of anxiety, wondering what will happen tomorrow.
Dull gray dawn breaks a blanket over the city. The explosion alarm horn Marina, the first sound you hear, and their team stumble into the cockpit. A look in the fog they realize that they are executed by the local naval base. Growing up without a military ship in sight, in a row on a white uniform services, and the salute to the flag of Ecuador, is like his staff. Our crew remindEcuador is in fact a democracy, and not have to worry about - but after what they have seen the night before, the nagging doubt firmly in the corner of his mind were not dissipate. These islands are so unique, and classified as "Eco Tourist" by the Ecuadorian Government, there are strong warnings and procedural advice for visiting sailors. Visiting areas outside of designated ports is not allowed, and if caught the immediate arrest and confiscation of the face probablyvessel. Visits are only allowed for a maximum of forty eight hours on an emergency basis, repairs and/or provisioning, with visas issued to this effect. All printed material stresses this, so her crew are acutely aware of this protocol as they put ashore in the dinghy to visit the Puerto Capitano.
In their smartest casual gear they manage the tricky landing on the stone wall, stepping ashore with the minimum amount of mud and salt water stains on their clothing. Straightening their garments as best they can, and the captain, importantly carrying their waterproof doco/passport bag tucked under one arm, they set off down the quay. Arriving at the lovely old colonial stone building which is the Custom house, and Puerto Capitano's office, all varnish and gloss inside, they are ushered into his office. A handsome fortyish officer, with a level gaze, stares at them bleakly from the other side of a huge desk. Varnish must be cheap in this country as this piece of furniture is positively glowing. Our crew are not easily intimidated, but with his cool, silent stare, and two matelots one each side standing to attention behind, this comes close. Our captain compliments him on his fine building, and his incredibly crisp and brilliant white uniform. He cocks his head slightly, breaks into a raffish grin and says:
'How long would you like to be staying in our country?'.
Our captain, momentarily taken aback, but having risen early, replies that ten days would be very nice indeed, thank you.
'No problem', a now very relaxed Puerto Capitano replies.
Visas are produced, with passports being stamped accordingly, entry fees paid, and our crew shuffle backwards out of his office almost bowing as they go. Our captain is on the point of inviting the Port Captain to join them for a beer at some point at his convenience, but considers this might be pushing their new relationship a little too far! Instead, they march straight faced down the sea wall, eyes to the front, out of sight round the first corner and suddenly leap into the air, fist punching in their exhilaration. Ten days to explore these fabulous evolutionary islands. A local fruit seller looking out from his stall, gives them a quizzical glance - crazy foreigners! Events as we shall see, will extend this time to eleven days. Later, checking their entry fee dockets, our crew discover that it was somewhat less than they had calculated - thank you Puerto Capitano.
Extract from the ebook 'Voyage of the Little Ship 'Tere Moana' by Vincent Bossley
