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Galápagos Islands Travel Guide & Money Saving Tips

The Galápagos. A cluster of volcanic islands, teeming with rare, exotic wildlife, rising out of the Pacific Ocean some six-hundred miles off of mainland Ecuador. Sounds like an expensive trip, doesn’t it? Sure, it can be. But it doesn’t have to be.

Don’t get me wrong, the Galápagos aren’t exactly a backpacker destination. The costs of getting there alone will run you at least $500—including a ~$400 flight from Quito or Guayaquil, the $100 park entry fee, and the $10 transit control card. (Word of advice: do NOT lose that card, or you may end up missing your flight home if no one is around to sell you a new one upon departure.)

But really, once you get to the islands you can spend as little or as much as you want and still have an awesome time. So if you’re considering a trip to the Galápagos, or even just looking for a unique beach vacation, hopefully this guide will help you determine whether or not the Galápagos Islands could be in your near future.

 

Tourists in a water taxi in Puerto Ayora
Tourists in a water taxi in Puerto Ayora

 

All about the Galápagos Islands…aka the stuff you can easily find on Wikipedia.

The Galápagos are a National Park and UNESCO World Heritage Site, so much of the land and surrounding marine area is carefully monitored and preserved by park authorities. The archipelago is made up of about 13-18 main islands and a few smaller ones (everyone will tell you a different number). Of those, only four or five are inhabited, and the rest you need to be with a tour guide to access.

The population is roughly 25,000, with about half of those people living in Santa Cruz. I showed up expecting an untouched, desolate paradise with like a 100:1 sea lion to human ratio, so I was definitely surprised to see the town of Puerto Ayora full of bars, souvenir shops, restaurants, cars, and people.

You can easily research the different islands to find out which are best for your visit, but here are a few notes I took on the ones that stood out to me:

Bartolomé uninhabited island with the breathtakingly scenic Pinnacle rock, and an awesome lava flow that spills right onto a white, sandy, deserted beach.

Española- I didn’t visit but since it’s the oldest island, it sounds like a kickass wildlife spot with tons of endemic species. It’s also the furthest South so unfortunately it’s not an option to visit on a day trip, only on a cruise, which we’ll jump into more in a minute.

Fernandina- basically an active volcanic island covered in old black lava flows. I got excited thinking I’d be able to see active lava flows, but after reading that tours don’t take you anywhere near the crater, I chose not to go.

Floreana- most people I spoke with liked Floreana, but I thought it was worth skipping. We saw some tortoises, did a small hike, visited a painfully rocky black lava rock beach with cloudy snorkeling due to the current, and of course stopped by Post Office Bay. Nothing special.

Isabela- my favorite Island that I visited, and not just because it’s shaped like a seahorse. There are volcanoes to hike, flamingos to see, and penguins and sea lions to swim with. Population is about 2,000 people, and the largest town of Puerto Villamil has dirt roads, no ATMs, and is super chill. I just wouldn’t recommend diving here because there’s only one dive shop on the island and they’re not exactly the most reputable bunch.

North Seymore Island- an easy day trip from Puerto Ayora and a good spot for beginner divers.

Rabida- red beaches. Enough said.

 

The #1 way to save money

The biggest way to save money in the Galápagos is to stay on land. It’s what I did and it’s the only way I can recommend making a trip to the Galápagos affordable (unless of course you have your own sailboat and you’re sailing down there and living aboard your own boat for free).

When most people talk about dropping thousands to visit the islands, that’s because they’re taking a cruise. These small boats of roughly 20 or so people set you up with a tour guide and tout you around to a new island each day. If you book in advance it looks like you’ll spend at least a grand—all food and excursions included—but you can also get some pretty good deals if you book last minute from the islands (not sure if I’d risk taking that chance during high season though). A lot of people aren’t even aware that you can stay on land too, for as low as $15/night in Puerto Ayora (the main town of the Galápagos), and take much cheaper day trips out to visit a number of islands.

The only downside I could see to staying on land is that you won’t be able to visit some of the islands that are much further out. But there’s so much to do and see on those nearby islands, you can easily fill up a ten-day trip without missing a thing.

 

Tell me more about these day trips

Most island day trips head out of Puerto Ayora, on Santa Cruz and will run about $60-$110 depending on the island, usually with lunch included. Walk along Avenida Charles Darwin and you’ll be able to book whatever trips you want from a number of vendors.

I would suggest figuring out which spots are must-sees for you, then choose a good base island or two. For example, I stayed in Puerto Ayora for five nights and took day trips out to Floreana and Bartolomé, while also spending some time exploring the island and beaches by bike and foot. Then I took the $40 water taxi to spend my last four nights on Isabela, where I walked out to the Flamingo Lagoon to see pink flamingos for free, went on a 6-hour hike up to Sierra Negra and Volcán Chico for only $35 (including lunch), and dropped $75 to go snorkeling at Los Tuneles. Sounds like a lot for a snorkeling trip, but this was a guided tour snorkeling through old lava tubes, coming across caves of sharks and manta rays, seahorses, and swimming with baby sea lions. Worth it.

All in all I spent around $300 on at least five days worth of trips and was busy every single day.

Diving is another popular activity, but just like anywhere else it’s not cheap. There are tons of dive shops in Puerto Ayora that’ll likely run you around $110-$175 for a two-dive trip along with some food and underwater photos. But when you’re 40 feet down swimming alongside hammerhead sharks, it’s obviously worth it. Even if you start puking like I did.

Bartolome
Bartolome
Black rock beach on Floreana
A gorgeous but painful beach on Floreana
Scuba diving with manta rays off Turtle Island
Scuba diving with manta rays off Turtle Island

 

Where should I stay?

Like I’ve mentioned a few times already, Puerto Ayora on Santa Cruz is a good place to start because it’s basically the main hub of the islands. There are a bunch of hotel options including backpacker friendly hostels for less than $15/night, more private hotels and b&b’s for around $50, and a few fancy way-out-of-my-budget places that I think were around a couple hundred a night. But with so much hustle and bustle, I wouldn’t recommend staying too long or you might start to forget you’re in the Galápagos. There are also a couple of desolate high-end resorts up in the highlands that are pretty far from the coast, and I’d imagine quite expensive.

Puerto Villamil on Isabela is another great town, and one of my favorite places I’ve ever been to. I stayed at Caleta Iguana in the $70/night private room with a private bath, which included a delicious homemade breakfast every morning. It’s right on the beach, and has the most happening happy hour in town. Every evening people come from all over the town to have a few drinks, walk across the tightrope, party around the fire, listen to music, sway in the hammocks, and watch the sun set.

 

Sounds awesome. So how do I get there?

For some reason a lot of people ask me this, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from giving some smartass remark about a booking site and an airplane.

Flights travel from mainland Ecuador either through Quito or Guayaquil, and take about 2-3 hours depending on which city.

There are two airports in the Galápagos, one on Baltra and one on San Cristóbal. Most people (including me) fly into Baltra, which is a tiny island just north of Santa Cruz that basically looks like Mars. After landing you’ll jump on an airport bus which will take you to the docks for free. From there you’ll cram into a water ferry, which is actually like an oversized canoe that will leave you questioning exactly how buoyancy works with that many tourists. As it chugs against the surprisingly strong current, the reality is that you could probably toss a football over to Santa Cruz so it’s a fairly quick transfer for $0.80. Once you’re on Santa Cruz you can catch a bus through the highlands, all the way to the other end of the island to Puerto Ayora. It takes about an hour and only costs about $1.50, but they cram the shit out of the bus. I enjoyed the bumpy ride while crammed between seats on the plastic astroturf-like floor.

Sweating on the bus
Sweating on the bus

 

I can’t tell you much about arriving in San Cristóbal, as I didn’t get the chance to visit. But I do know it’s the easternmost island with a population of about 6,000 people, and I’m told you can sunbathe alongside sea lions if you visit the beach.

Either way, transportation between the islands will run you roughly $40 for a ferry ride, and take about 2-3 hours, so limit and plan your transfers wisely.

 

What are some free/cheap things I can do while on land?

You’ll need a tour guide to access many places, but there are still a ton of free things you can do that are just as cool.

Santa Cruz


– Explore the Darwin Research Center and visit the giant tortoise and iguana breeding center.

– Walk to Tortuga Bay. Once you reach the entry point just outside of town, locals will tell you it’s about a 20 minute walk. Bullshit. I didn’t have a watch or phone on me but it’s definitely closer to 45+ minutes. Despite the heat and humidity it’s an easy walk, but once you emerge from the partially tree-covered pathway, you’ll see a long white stretch of gorgeous, untouched natural beach with perfectly blue and white waves breaking at the shoreline. This area’s a bit too choppy to swim but there will likely be a few surfers in the water along with some sharks flapping about in with the waves. Walk another 15 minutes or so to the end of the beach and you’ll come across the swimming bay which is much calmer, and probably at least a little crowded with locals. You can even pay a few bucks and take a kayak out to explore on your own.

– I didn’t make it up there, but if you’re all about seeing some giant, old ass tortoises in their natural habitat, head up to the highlands and explore El Chato Tortoise Reserve.

– Cliff diving at Las Grietas. Intrigued? It costs like 50 cents for a 15 minute water taxi ride from the Puerto Ayora docks, and a short hike until you’re there. It’s basically a crevice between two cliffs where salt and fresh water meet, and the lack of a current makes it a popular spot to swim and take daring jumps.

– Grab a bike and explore the city. I hopped on a mountain bike and went as far as I could before the hill started to get to be too much for my lazy ass. I rode around the back streets and explored the neighborhoods and it was definitely a day well spent for only a few dollars.

 

Old tortoise
Old ass tortoise
Tortuga Bay
Tortuga Bay
Biking the streets of Puerto Ayora
Biking the streets of Puerto Ayora
Exploring the streets of Puerto Ayora
Exploring the streets of Puerto Ayora

 

Puerto Villamil, Isla Isabela

Isabela is an incredibly behind-the-times island with painfully slow internet, which was absolutely perfect.
 It’s really easy to spend mornings exploring and afternoons napping on the beach without a worry in the world.

– Hike Volcán Chico/Sierra Negra. The guided volcano hike is only $35 with lunch, and in my opinion totally worth it. Not so much worth it if you just hike up to Sierra Negra, but definitely so if you continue on to Volcán Chico. Here’s more in-depth info about what to expect on that hike.

– Walk up to the Flamingo Lagoon. There’s a manmade lagoon where flamingos tend to hang out. A pickup truck taxi will charge $10 to take you there, but you can easily walk or bike there for free. Follow the main road that runs along the water (I didn’t see a name because it’s a dirt road and I really don’t think there even was a name). Pass Caleta Iguana, the hot pink beachfront hostel on the left, and the Booby Trap cafe/restaurant on your right, and turn right up the dirt road. You’ll pass La Jungla hostel and a soccer field along the way, but keep walking. Locals will tell you you’re super close, but it took me about 20-25 minutes to get there. Eventually you’ll come to the Tortoise Breeding Center, and finally the lagoon.

– 
Walk on the beach. There are Galápagos penguins and gorgeous sunsets right there, so really there’s no reason to leave.

– Go down to the happy hour at Caleta Iguana, the Westernmost hostel/hotel on the beach, and hang out for some drinks and watch the sunset.

 

Pink flamingos on Isla Isabela
Pink flamingos on Isla Isabela
Hiking Volcan Chico
Hiking Volcan Chico
Caleta Iguana on Isla Isabela
Caleta Iguana on Isla Isabela
Pausing for a selfie at Los Tuneles
Pausing for a selfie at Los Tuneles
Sharks at Los Tuneles
Snorkeling with sharks at Los Tuneles
Snorkeling with sea turtles at Los Tuneles
Swimming with sea turtles at Los Tuneles
Snorkeling with sea lions at Los Tuneles
Swimming with sea lions at Los Tuneles
Isla Isabela
The perfect dirt roads of Isla Isabela
Sunset from Caleta Iguana
Sunset from Caleta Iguana

 

Other helpful things to remember/expect/know

Go during low season
The weather is generally the same year round, but low season is April, May, September and October. I’d suggest going then to avoid the crowds, and you may even save a few bucks on day trips and cruises.

The Galápagos are a tsunami zone
Especially if you don’t know Spanish, at least learn the escape route so when you hear the sirens start waling and see people start running, you know what to do. On Puerto Ayora I learned the hard way that you should head uphill on Av Baltra until you reach Bellavista.

They’re also not necessarily a beach destination
There are quite a few beaches, but they’re not really easy to get to. You generally can’t stay on a resort and walk outside to lay out during the day. In Puerto Ayora, it’ll take an entire day to head to the beach, and on many other islands the beaches are rocky or take a lot of time to get to via boat.

Don’t flush toilet paper
Sure I bitched about this first world problem in London, but being in such a fragile environmentally-friendly ecosystem, I was actually more than willing to comply.

Bring enough cash
Some of the islands don’t have ATMs, and many places don’t accept credit cards. Puerto Ayora was fine—it had at least one ATM and one bank, but Isabela had neither. I was told sometimes tourists withdrawal more money than the ATM has anyway, so sometimes they’re left SOL. To be on the safe side, bring a bit of cash.

USD is the official currency
Despite being a province of Ecuador, the official currency of the Galápagos Islands is actually the US Dollar. So if you’re traveling from the US you don’t have to worry about losing money in exchange rates or frequent trips to the bank.

Bring protection
No not that kind of protection ya pervs. Okay wait actually, yeah you should probably do that too if you plan on getting freaky. But I’m talking sunscreen. Like any island, items are marked up. Like $30 for a small bottle of sunscreen. So bring what you need, the sun is ridiculous down there. I usually don’t wear sunblock on vacations, but the whole trip I was slathered up in SPF 30 every day and still left with an almost-Latin tan. Than being said, I stupidly took a 4oz Neutrogena sunblock and another travel size stick with me and had to buy more halfway through my trip. Bye bye money.

Walk an extra few blocks for food
If you visit any of the restaurants along Avenida Charles Darwin in Puerto Ayora, you can expect to pay tourist prices. I’m used to New York prices, so $9 for a beer, a cheese sandwich, and an order of fried plantains and queso was a steal. But if you walk the extra five minutes up a couple of blocks to Bordados El Alquimista, you’ll find a road full of outdoor-seating restaurants serving up super cheap traditional Ecuadorian food and $1 beers.

There’s also an amazing little shack/bar on the playground right near the docks. Almost every night I went down and had an empanada and a large, probably 40 oz Pilsener for $4.50. Other tourists told me I was getting ripped off and could’ve gotten the same snack for about $2.50 elsewhere, but I couldn’t help it. It was awesome to sit amongst locals and try to improve my Spanish right in the center of all the port action.

Bring seasickness medicine
If you think there’s the slightest chance that you might get seasick, bring some pills. You’ll likely spend a lot of time on boats down there so it’s better to be prepared than barfing your lunch out over the side of the boat for two hours. The islands aren’t close together, so it’s common to spend 2-3 hours seeing nothing but the huge, rolling waves of the Pacific on every horizon. And those waves are not small.

Bring a water bottle

The Galápagos are hot and you’re going to need a lot of water. The locals don’t even drink the tap there, and all of the hotels I visited or researched had a water cooler in the lobby for guests to fill up on. So bring a jug and keep it full. Some places ask for donations, others don’t.

 

Fried plantains and questo and an iced tea
Fried plantains and queso and an iced tea

 

So, should I go?

For better or for worse (i’m really leaning towards worse), the Galápagos are becoming more and more popular as a tourist destination. Despite the efforts to manage tourism so that it doesn’t destroy the ecosystem, the islands are definitely suffering. You see sheets of oil across the water in the ports and litter carelessly washed up on the rocks of shore. And even though most of the islands are still uninhabited, those that are inhabited are encouraging tourism more and more. Isabela for example, is the largest (size-wise) of the islands with a population of only 2,000. At first they shunned tourism and wanted no part in it—until they started seeing the financial benefits. Now there are buildings being constructed all along the beach which actually made me a little angry. I know I know, this makes me a bit of a hypocrite. But it’s a perfect island with dirt roads and no ATMs, where everybody knows each other. Hell by the end of my trip I knew most of the locals. It doesn’t need hoards of tourists moving in, changing the local cultures and environment.

Sometimes making decisions on whether or not to visit certain places that are honestly better left untouched are difficult for us travelers who are always looking for new, unique experiences and connections. So I really think that anyone visiting the Galápagos should make a conscious decision to do so. Don’t go just for the hell of it. Respect the land, the people, and the wildlife. Learn a thing or two, and give back whenever you can. And if you do go, hopefully this guide will help with your beginning steps of planning.

Categories
Adventure Outdoor Scuba Diving South America Unesco World Heritage Sites Wildlife

Scuba Diving Round 2: Swimming with Hammerheads

I was really looking forward to doing a redemption dive in the Galapagos Islands—just one kickass dive to erase all the bad memories from Florida. But after reading online that the dive sites are best for advanced divers and known for their strong currents, not their water clarity, I wasn’t sure how great it could actually be.

Whatever. I just wanted to dive without emptying my guts into the ocean.

I decided to go with Scuba Iguana based on their reputation (and a solid recommendation from a very attractive Latin diver I’d met). They had one last spot on their dive scheduled for my last day on Santa Cruz, so I paid the $175, signed some paperwork freeing them from any responsibility should I die or get dismembered, got fitted with all of my gear, then went to dinner eagerly anticipating the next morning. My plan was to grab a quick bite then go back to the hotel to hydrate and brush up on my scuba skills before calling it an early night.

An hour later the whole tsunami thing happened and completely destroyed my plans.

I didn’t get back to my hotel until the wee hours of the morning so I started to think diving wouldn’t be the best idea, especially with my nerves still on edge. Plus two divers in the shelter told me that diving the next morning would be a bad idea because there would likely be even stronger currents and lower visibility.

I woke up a couple hours later and tried to call the shop to tell them I wasn’t feeling it that day, secretly hoping it was canceled. I assumed that they would understand since my PADI courses continuously harped on the need to be a responsible diver and not go diving when you’re quite feeling up for it so that you don’t endanger the rest of the group.

Long story short, I couldn’t get through to them until they called me over an hour and a half later, and despite Scuba Iguana’s stellar diving reputation, they didn’t give a fuck about my safety concerns and hesitations. They refused to reimburse me even though it would have been as simple as throwing out the carbon copy of my card they had yet to send off to the bank. So not only did I not go diving, I was out $175.

The next day I was feeling back to my normal self and I was pissed that I’d let fear get the best of me on my last day in Santa Cruz. So I decided to try, try again on Isabela Island. There was only one diving company there and they didn’t have a great reputation. But I had made up my mind, I was not leaving the Galapagos without going diving and $150 later I was signed up for attempt #2.

 

Wall of fish

 

Diving day came and I did everything by the book. I took seasickness pills, ate breakfast, drank a ton of water. I was ready to go. As we sped out to Turtle Island I was actually really excited, and before I could think about it all of us were bobbing around in the choppy water. We didn’t even do any checks to make sure our gear was functioning properly, they just handled it themselves and hurried us into the water.

Just as quickly Harry and the other non-English speaking divemaster were ready to go under. I dumped all the air from my BCD and once my head was under I sank like an anchor. Due to our shitty preparation I think my weight belt was way too heavy because getting neutrally buoyant is actually one thing I’m pretty good at. This time I was all over the place trying not to touch the rock and coral below me. Luckily the sign of struggle is universal, so the divemaster tried to inflate and deflate my BCD with quick bursts, using up tons of oxygen before giving up and grabbing my hand to drag me along. We floated around holding hands for a few minutes before I realized this was the most romance I’ve had in a long time, and naturally after a few minutes I got weirded out and let go.

 

Scuba diving

 

I was using up a ton of oxygen trying to fill my lungs with air as it was the only thing that seemed to keep me slightly above the ocean floor. But I felt great. The vomit-fest of the Florida Keys seemed so far away.

Suddenly everything got really dark like a storm cloud moving in. I looked up to see we were in the shadow of a massive manta ray gliding about ten feet above me. I’ve never seen anything so big, so close in the water. I was half wishing it would swoop down and wrap me up like a pig-in-a-blanket in its massive fins.

 

Manta ray

 

Then it happened, the highlight of my dive. The only thing I really wanted to see while I was underwater. About 15 feet away a hammerhead shark that was at least 9 feet long slowly swam past, not paying any attention to us with its goofy eyes. I’m not particularly scared of sharks, but I wasn’t sure how I’d react to seeing one 40 ft under water, though I definitely wanted to find out. Seconds later three more hammerheads appeared and swam by. Oddly enough it felt just like seeing them in an aquarium. I was simply observing the sharks as they paid no attention to us or anything that swam by. I didn’t feel nervous or scared at all, in fact I felt the urge to swim in front of them and see if they would even notice me head-on.

 

Shark

 

We swam along with tons of crazy-looking fish, reef sharks, starfish, and more unidentifiable creatures. There was something new to see at each turn, which was definitely the selling point to diving in the GalapagosFar too quickly I realized I was already down to 700 PSI in my tank, which was when we were supposed to start heading up. Unfortunately I was the only one even remotely close to going up, so the divemaster motioned for me to head up alone.

 

Sea turtle

Sea turtle

Seahorse

 

If you don’t know much about diving, basically you can’t just pop right up to the surface or you risk decompression sickness, and you can get the bends and/or die (hence the pre-dive paperwork). To stay on the safe side you should ascend slowly, then stop for about 3-5 minutes at around 3 meters/15 feet. Since my depth gauge seemed to be off and I was without a watch, I knew I’d have difficulty determining the right depth & duration for the safety stop. I kept trying to communicate with the divemaster that I didn’t want to go up alone, but it was pretty hard considering you can’t speak under water. And I didn’t want to ruin the dive for the rest of the group so I sucked it up and started up alone.

 

Fish

 

For the first couple seconds I started rising slowly and steadily below my air bubbles. Then out of nowhere I was being pulled up like I was being beamed up by aliens. I tried to slow down but my head was above water in a matter of seconds. Shit.

The surface was choppy, and I started to get dizzy as the boat came to get me. I swam my way against the current towards the boat, which seemed to take about a week and a half. By the time I got there I was exhausted, breathing heavily and my limbs worthless. The crew had me take off my BCD and hand it up to them which was incredibly hard to do. I felt like I was going to pass out. Then they had me take off my fins, but with such little strength left I was worried I wouldn’t be able to stay afloat without them so I latched onto the ladder like a Barrel of Monkeys game piece, my body bashing against it, bruising me with each wave.

I tried to climb the ladder which was even more difficult than all those times I failed trying to climb the knotted rope in gym class. I felt like I weighed 1800 pounds, but with the help of the crew I fell into the boat and made my way to a seat. My head was pounding and I felt dizzy. My stomach started to churn again, just like last time. Except this time I was worried I’d gotten the bends from rising up too quickly. I kept telling myself that I was okay and that I needed to calm down and focus on something other than feeling like shit.

After about 10 minutes the others made their way to the boat as I took a few deep breaths and a few sips of water. The boat crew gave us a snack but I knew that snack was going to turn into fish food if I put it in my mouth.

Everyone suited back up for dive two as I sat staring off in complete silence before deciding to sit it out. My stomach felt the same as it did in Florida, and I knew as soon as I put the regulator in my mouth I would be puking. So I went up to the front of the boat and stared off at the horizon. I made it about ten more minutes before I was bent over the bow, heaving warm bile into the Pacific. Then I wiped my mouth off and posed for this seasick selfie:

 

Seasick selfie

 

I don’t know what it is with diving, but my stomach can’t seem to handle it. I’ve been on countless boats in my lifetime and I spent more than half of my days in the Galapagos on boats, and I’ve never been seasick until after I’ve been diving.

Weird, my stomach can handle Taco Bell’s destructive goodness like nobody should be able to, but I can’t handle a little compressed air.

*All the underwater photos in this post are from a lovely girl named Dorieke, who was kind enough to send them to me since my camera wasn’t waterproof past 43ft. Thanks Dorieke!

Categories
Outdoor Scuba Diving South America Unesco World Heritage Sites Wildlife

6 REASONS TO GO TO THE GALAPAGOS ISLANDS NOW

To say the Galapagos Islands were one of the most surreal, jaw-dropping places I’ve ever been to, leaving me with the urge to abandon everything I’ve ever loved for a simpler life, would be a massive understatement. The 19-island archipelago has a lot to offer in a relatively small-ish space, so even though I only visited five islands during my nine days on land, I didn’t need to waste days traveling in order to see a huge range of landscapes and wildlife.

The Galapagos made the ideal vacation destination for me because it was a good mix of a photography lover’s landscapes, adventurous day trips, and uncrowded beaches, all without being too touristy. Oh, and VOLCANOES. Not to mention the added benefit of getting up close (and sometimes personal) with wildlife, both above and below sea level. Even though I’ve barely seen all of what the Galapagos have to offer, I’m convinced that everyone needs to visit at some point in their life. Probably sooner rather than later.

Here are just a few of the obvious reasons why you should consider a trip to the Galapagos as your next destination. And really, it’s not as expensive as you think. But more on that later.

 

1. The Wildlife
Playfully curious sea lions. Blue and red footed boobies. Hissing tortoises. Lanky pink flamingos. Wobbly little penguins. Deep-diving marine iguanas. Whether you’re on a boat, bike, feet, snorkeling, or scuba diving, you’ll get to interact with so many different species that are generally unafraid of humans. That means they’ll stand there and examine you while you examine them. They’ll swim alongside you and continue about their journey. Or if they’re really playful like the sea lion pup we encountered, they’ll come right up and hug you and beg for you to scratch its belly.

Iguana

Galapagos Penguin

2. The Landscape
The different elevations of the volcanic islands give way to several ecosystems. At first glance some of the islands look like lifeless spans of nothing, but if you look closer or walk a few meters all of that can easily change. One minute you could be on a long stretch of white, resort-free beach, the next walking up a shaded dirt road, then suddenly you’re scrambling over a Mars-like rocky surface, peering into an active volcano crater. Some of the beaches on uninhabited islands such as Bartolome have layers upon layers of undisturbed lava flows covering soft white sand that looks like it’s never been touched by man.


 

3. Snorkeling
You can jump in the water with a snorkel just about anywhere and see all kinds of fish and sea turtles. But in places like Los Tuneles, you’ll get to swim through caves and tunnels where sting rays and schools of sharks sleep, sea horses huddle, and baby sea lions swim, who just want to play tag and have you tickle their bellies.

 

4. Scuba Diving
I didn’t take my camera diving because I was worried about exceeding the depth at which my camera is actually waterproof up to. But diving in the Galapagos is a must. Many of the dive sites have strong currents and are for more experienced divers, but there are a few spots you can visit even if you don’t have that many dives under your belt. I mean really, you don’t have to go very deep to find yourself swimming below a ten-foot manta ray or alongside a school of hammerhead sharks.

 
Snorkeling

 

5. Active Volcanoes
Sierra Negra is a fairly easy hike that can be done in about 5-6 hours from the car drop-off point. The first, more relaxed part of the hike breaks through the clouds on a dirt path surrounded by trees. Before long you reach the summit, which is actually the second largest caldera in the world (behind Yellowstone). While it’s definitely a sight to see, especially the lava flows from the 2005 eruption, the real awesomeness comes when you continue onwards to Volcan Chico. Climbing out there took another 45 minutes or so of climbing alongside lava tubes and lava rocks in the brutal sunlight, only to find ourselves looking down into steaming craters at the end of the trail.

6. Colorfully Diverse Beaches
One day you can choose to make the hour-long trek from town to Tortuga Bay before finding yourself on the flawless, secluded stretch of white sand beach. The next you can try to play tough guy while running barefoot across hot, black, rocky sand. Either way, land is more abundant than people here so it’s easy to find plenty of space to claim as your own for the afternoon. Though I didn’t see them all, I’ve heard the Galapagos also have dark green, pink, and red beaches too.

Sunset from Caleta Iguana

And with that I’ll stop at six because I’m pretty sure the photos speak for themselves.

Stay tuned because I’ll be giving you all kinds of tips for making a trip to the Galapagos more affordable than you think. Until then, you might as well go ahead and request at least two weeks off work whenever works for you—because there’s never a bad season to visit the Galapagos thanks to their location.

Categories
Adventure Scuba Diving

I GOT SCUBA CERTIFIED AND PUKED ON MY INSTRUCTOR

By some fucking miracle, I finished my PADI open water certification down in Marathon, Florida. And no, the open water dives weren’t any easier than the confined dives at the YMCA.

The morning started off just fine. The sun was shining, the previous day’s wind had turned into a light breeze, and I woke up plenty early enough to eat and hydrate before my afternoon dive. Most of all I was beyond excited to finally get out on a boat and see some marine life. But when I showed up at the shop, the morning dive was running pretty late. Excitement turned into boredom and slight agitation that I was wasting a warm, sunny day sitting inside.

Two hours later the boat came back to the shop. A few teenaged divers ran in ecstatic from their first open water dives. Then a much less enthused man came in, appearing unable to shake his sea legs.

“How was it?” the shop owner asked.

“Ha! Rough!” the older man laughed. “Nah it was okay, just…yeah, rough.”

The younger kids seemed unfazed, and at this point so did I.

This was my last day of training since I had already done my first two open water dives in a muddy canal the day before. That’s right, the ocean was way too rough, so me and Captain Bob headed to “the secret area” to practice my skills in a dirty ass creek. My mother would’ve killed me had she known I showed up to this dive shop, jumped in a truck with a strange old man, went to his house on another island to get a bunch of rope, drove out to a wooded “top secret” area that even the guys at the dive shop knew nothing about, parked on the side of the road, and walked through several yards of thick grass and trees to a muddy body of water far from where any human would ever hear my cries for help. Thankfully Captain Bob wasn’t a serial killer after all, but diving in those conditions kind of sucked. The visibility was less than 5 feet in some spots so all I could see was a murky green all around me. It was even worse when I accidentally turtle-rolled with my snorkel in and inhaled a giant mouthful of disgusting ass swamp water.

After that experience I was convinced that finally going into the ocean was going to blow my mind. I couldn’t wait.

Seven of us headed out on the boat—five divers plus the two instructors. Of the five, I was the most advanced by one day. The other four were a family of brothers and sisters in their late teens/early twenties who were all cousins of the shop owner. My instructor was Nick, a loud surfer-boy looking 26-year-old whose aquatic tattoos made him blend in perfectly under water.

The bay going out was a little choppy. The boat crashed over top of the growing waves for about 35 minutes before we got out to the reef. Once the engine stopped, I heard one of the girls throwing up off the far side of the boat from motion sickness. I started to get annoyed, hoping that her weak stomach wouldn’t prevent me from getting certified. Especially since we were already running two hours late and sun was due to set in about another two hours.

She was first to jump in the water in an attempt to quell her upset stomach. Everyone else was still getting their gear on, but I suited up in record time the second I realized my stomach felt a little queezy too. It wasn’t that bad though, so I chalked it up to sympathy sickness from seeing her blow chunks overboard. Without hesitation I put the regulator in my mouth, grabbed ahold of it and my mask, held onto the rest of my gear and took a giant stride into the water. I didn’t even double check to make sure my air supply was on. Getting in that water was my only concern so that I didn’t end up throwing up on my wetsuit. After signaling that I was okay, I swam the line out to the buoy we had tied off the boat so none of us got carried away in the rolling waves.

And holy shit were they some waves. While I was bobbing around at the surface waiting for the others, the waves would come and fully obstruct my view of the boat before going over my head. I inflated my BCD even more to make sure I was able to stay afloat as much as possible. I finally understood how people could drown in the ocean. When I looked back at the boat I realized that these waves were breaking well over the bow, and scenes from Deadliest Catch began to run through my mind.

Despite the fact that getting off the boat was helping everyone else, being in the water was no better for me. I was still feeling a bit nauseous, but not to the point where I thought I’d actually get sick.

After about fifteen minutes of trying to get everyone in the water we began to descend. Since I was the most experienced, I went down first with Nick about 25 feet to the sandy ocean floor alongside the reef. He went back up and I waited at the bottom while the other instructor, Greg, brought down the others one by one. Nick and pukey McGee were still at the surface.

Greg carried on and began walking us through the drills they’d needed to do for their first two dives. Mask flooding and clearing, regulator recovery, things I’d already done. I didn’t have time to redo all of that and complete the rest of my skills, so when he pointed at me to complete these, I was more than convinced he had me confused with one of the other girls. But of course it’s imfuckingpossible to communicate this under water. So I went with it.

It was hard to stay put on the ocean floor because the current from the waves would come along and push me and all the fish around me a good ten feet, turning it into a fun game of “don’t crash into the reef.” I’m pretty sure that added motion started to get to me. I was still feeling a bit uneasy, but was focusing on completing the shit I had to do to get certified.

Nick finally came down basically dragging the pale seasick girl latched onto his arm. She had her face buried into his arm and her limp body could’ve easily been mistaken as dead. But somehow she managed to spring to life and complete every drill with ease when her turn came up.

Finally Nick and I took off on our own to finish my skills. After I’d completed most of them, I still had about 1000 psi in the tank so we went exploring. We went over and through some reefs, past dark purple sea fans and schools of neon fish. One fish swam right up to my mask and tried to eat my bubbles. For a few minutes I actually forgot about feeling ill. I couldn’t wait to go up and get a new tank for a leisurely second and final dive of the day.

Before long we began to ascend slowly before practicing a CESA. My mind started to go blank and I couldn’t focus though I wasn’t exactly sure why. My stomach was still upset, but still not enough to get sick.

The second my face came out of the water I ripped the regulator out of my mouth and threw up. All over Nick. Thankfully he laughed it off while I kept emptying my guts in between waves.

“Get it all out girl,” he said while holding onto me. “That’s disgusting, but shit happens.”

I puked harder than I’d ever puked in my life, heaving into the ocean so hard that I was actually worried about popping a blood vessel in my eye.

“I’ve been there, it sucks. Just get it all out, you’ll feel better,” he continued.

The rolling waves were enormous, tossing me up and down a good ten feet with each swell. What the hell was going on? I’d never been seasick in my life, and I was completely fine on the boat, but now, after 40 minutes of diving I was experiencing it?

I became irrationally angry and started yelling. Yelling at the ocean, yelling at the situation, yelling at myself.

“Fuck. FUCK! What the FUCK body, man the fuck up! Pull it together!”

Nick laughed and commended my attitude, and after some tough talk he asked me if I was ready to go back down. I told him to go fuck himself and that he was out of his damn mind if he thought I was doing another dive. He laughed some more as salt water hit my lips, causing my body to begin puking up burning, yellow, foamy bile from the pits of my stomach. My abs ached, but after about another minute they’d finally stopped convulsing.

Then he got serious.

“Hey, look at me.” he said looking me square in the face as he grabbed onto my shoulders. All you have to do is go back down long enough to do your CESA. Then that’s it, you’re done, you’re certified. Okay? You got this!”

I looked at Nick and took a few deep breaths. Seeing his persuasive blue eyes behind that mask suddenly made me feel like I could suck it up and do this. I put the regulator in my mouth, but that first breath of compressed air had me puking bile again.

What the hell. I’d studied my ass off for this. I’d also spent a whole day in a pool, and another day drinking in murky green water to get here. My scuba experiences hadn’t exactly been enjoyable yet, but damnit I wasn’t going to give up with so little left to do. I couldn’t tell people that I didn’t get certified because I’m a sissy who gave up over a little seasickness. Once I felt a little better we went back down. But as soon as I got back under water I felt loopy, lightheaded and spacey. Not necessarily ill, but I couldn’t focus. I tried to tough it out and work past it, swimming around a bit to see if it would go away. After a few minutes I realized it wasn’t going to, so we went for that final CESA to get out of the water. Again, right when I got to the surface I got sick again. I finally understood what hell was, and I looked over at the shore that was miles and miles away. I wanted nothing more than to be curled up on dry land and I seriously considered swimming there.

Then everybody else came up and got into the boat to swap tanks while I stayed in the ocean floating around, thanks to my BCD, dotting the water with a trail of puke piles to feed all the fish.

All of a sudden three of the girls were puking off the side of the boat, and once I realized the waves were bringing it my way I headed for the boat too. Everyone tried telling me that the boat wasn’t going to be any better, but I didn’t see how it could be any worse than throwing up directly into my only source of oxygen 25 feet below the surface. They tried to get me to swap out my tank and go back down for another dive, but before I could even get both feet on the boat I felt ill, and my 70 or so pounds of scuba gear suddenly felt like 200. I couldn’t get out of my gear fast enough.

Hell no. I didn’t care if I was uncomfortable on the boat, it looked like I was going to puke regardless of where I was, so I’d much rather do it where I can breathe freely than risk clogging up my regulator with chunks.

At first I sat upright on the edge of the boat, staring at a tower far off on the horizon. I half-jokingly wished a shark would come by so I could jump into its mouth and just end this torture. I tried to keep it together but every five minutes I was hurled over the edge of the boat dry-heaving my organs out. And I’m a loud puker. I was trying my hardest to puke more lady-like, but after about twenty seconds of that I gave up trying to retain any sort of dignity. I was wailing deep hulk-like sounds from the pits of my guts, similar to what I’d imagine an exorcism would be like. I got sick of moving from upright position to bent over, so I found myself hunched over the side permanently, my face only inches from the waves. I cursed some more and gripped my hands into the side so that I didn’t flip over. Finally when I stopped puking for more than three minutes, I slouched down inside the boat and laid there.

Bad idea. Do not lose sight of land. I puked again, this time barely making it over the edge of the boat and right onto a gigantic moon jellyfish. The way it moved my puke to its center convinced me that that sick bastard was having a delicious feast off of my vomit. I puked on it again, then I slouched back down, keeping my head above the ledge just enough to keep my sights on land. Every time a swell would come and make land invisible my stomach would drop for those two seconds.

Jellyfish
Not the same jellyfish, but a similar one I found washed up on land. I didn’t get ANY pictures on my dives because 1- you’re not allowed to train with a camera, and 2- I was too sick to care about grabbing my camera on the boat. FAIL.

 

After what felt like a week and a half, everyone resurfaced. Thank God. They kept asking how I was doing, at which point I didn’t even have enough energy left to respond. I just sat there staring at land, snot and puke remnants running down my face. But I didn’t even care. I’d passed the point of looking like a normal human being around the 10th pile of vomit.

I kept my sights on land for the entire half hour ride back in, quietly mumbling things like “Oh God,” “oh shit,” and “come on Kim,” to ease any more feelings of nausea. Nick tried to raise morale by yelling a big “congratulations to the newest Padi certified diver” in my direction, to which I just raised my hand slightly and zoned right back out. Right then I’d decided that I would never scuba dive again in my entire life.

When we made it back to the dock I couldn’t wait to get out of that boat. I helped carry some gear off and gave it a proper rinse down before going into the shop to be photographed for my certification card. Thankfully they at least let me rinse my face off before posing for the picture.

Scuba Certified

I’d done it. I left the shop feeling less than enthused or accomplished, but I’d done it. And I’d never have to go scuba diving again.

I went back to the condo and re-hydrated with a few bottles of water and fueled up with a chicken sandwich. Before long I was feeling back to my old self again. I was no longer an immobile waste of whiney space.

And I couldn’t wait to go diving again. This time in calmer waters though.

Categories
Adventure Scuba Diving

THAT TIME I THOUGHT SCUBA DIVING WOULD BE EASY

It hardly feels like the middle of December to me. Probably because I haven’t bought a single gift, I haven’t been to any holiday parties, and I’m not packing up for the usual snowy week in Ohio, eating my mom’s Christmas cookies for every meal. Instead I’m gearing up for a sunny vacation in a bathing suit and flip flops.

I’ve somehow convinced my parents to go to the Florida Keys this year for Christmas. Weird considering we haven’t taken a family vacation since I was like twelve, and we’ve had the same Christmas tradition going since before I was born. Florida isn’t anywhere near the top of my places to go list, but I figured the Keys were a good compromise—a place my parents could relax, but I could still do some exploring. Plus, I could take advantage of this super chill vacation as a chance to get scuba certified.

I first looked into diving in 2012 before my trip to Thailand. But I just as quickly realized that the Similan Islands were closed or had poor visibility during the rainy season, so I shelved the whole diving thing. So I finally started the coursework a few weeks ago thinking certification was going to be a piece of cake. I mean, ten-year-olds do this shit. I basically grew up in a pool, I’ve been in the ocean countless times, and I’ve actually found myself bored with snorkeling because I wanted to see more. So scuba diving naturally seemed like a good next step.

As soon as I started reading the book and watching the dvd’s, I realized that it wasn’t just a “quick read” like I thought. Each chapter seemed to reveal something potentially life-threatening about the world of diving, and I began to second guess whether or not I was cut out for it. I’m a very simple-minded person who’s easily distracted, and I often have trouble multitasking. I don’t know how good I’ll be at reading a dive computer, watching my SPG so that my cylinder doesn’t run out of air, maintaining neutral buoyancy, remembering to equalize every few feet, remembering never to hold my breath even if the regulator falls out of my mouth, staying on course and close to my buddy, ascending slowly and making a safety stop, all the while taking in all of the sea life around me and not freaking out and jetting to the surface at the site of a shark.

After finishing the books and dvd, I completed my class which involved four quizzes and one final exam. Of course I was the last one to finish each of those, but I did great. Now it was time to actually practice everything I’d learned in five confined water dives at the YMCA pool.

Padi Certification

For my first failure of the day, I wore a two-piece bathing suit. One of our first sans-wetsuit drills was to prove that we can swim 200 meters nonstop, and the whole time I was trying to hold up my bottoms. After a while I got sick of lagging so far behind and just let my blinding white ass hang out, floating above the water for everyone to laugh at as I flailed far behind my classmates.

Through assembling and taking apart our gear several times, I was still feeling pretty confident. Even though the whole setup was crazy heavy, diving was still proving to be relatively easy.

Then it was time to get in the water all geared up and spend the next five and a half hours there. Our instructor walked us through a series of tasks we’d each complete once we were under water, and just like that, we went down for our first set.

Breathing through the regulator was strange at first, but I was still at ease. As long as I could breathe, things were fine.

Then came time for me to remove my mask and continue breathing through the regulator for 30 seconds. Easy, I thought, since I was never the type to plug my nose while swimming. Wrong. I immediately got water up my nose and shot up to the surface. Failure number two. I’d noticed by then that my heart was racing, my eyes were wide, and I was speaking rapidly as I tried to explain myself.

I’d panicked. Just from a little water up my nose.

I had to mentally tell myself to calm the fuck down; I was at the YMCA with a trained professional guiding me for god’s sake. After a few seconds of chatting we realized I may have been tilted slightly backwards, making the bubbles go up my nose. So we went back under and I tried it again, this time tilted slightly forward and I was fine. It was weird, but I did it!

The most important rule in scuba is that you never hold your breath. Ever. So if your regulator comes out of your mouth, you have to keep blowing a constant stream of bubbles until you can get it back in your mouth. We had to practice what to do if you lose your regulator and it falls behind you—swing your arm down to touch your leg, back to touch the tank, circle it around towards you, and your regulator should be there. Of course for me, it wasn’t there because I didn’t reach back far enough. Failure number three. At this point I’d exhausted all of the air in my lungs and I had no clue where my source of oxygen was. I was now holding my breath because I had nothing left to push out and no way of inhaling. All in one go, failure number four and panic attack number two, ten feet below the surface. I began grabbing aimlessly for my regulator, and almost reached for my emergency second stage before the instructor handed me my regulator and I breathed in the most glorious breath of air ever. I felt like a huge idiot. Again. This was becoming a theme.

Then it came time to swim a little more than the length of the deep end, regulator in, while breathing out just one breath and making an “aahhhh” sound. On my first try I only made it about halfway before I had to breathe in. Failure number five. I had to go back and start over. This time I was nervous, cold, and I really had to pee. When he gave me the signal to swim, I whipped the regulator out of my mouth and began swimming. He immediately signaled for me to put my regulator back in, and I thought I did something wrong so I just kept swimming and breathing as usual. He pulled me above water and I realized in my flustered state I wasn’t supposed to remove the regulator. I told him I felt like saying “ahhh” released way too much air from my lungs way too quickly, so he suggested I try making more of a hissing noise. But first he made me take a break at the bottom of the pool while the other people did it flawlessly. I took that chance to calm down, focus on my breathing and my buoyancy, and before you know it, it was my turn again. This time, making the hiss noise, was SO much easier. I could’ve swam twice as far on that one full breathe.

Snorkeling in the British Virgin Islands

 

All in all, I only inhaled a mouthful of water and choked on it once. But that was once more than anybody else in our class so of course I felt like an idiot. Sure a few things took me a couple of tries, but I got it. And before long I’d passed the confined water dive ahead of schedule.

It’s not that scuba diving is necessarily difficult, but you do actually have to think about every single move you make. Which, well, that’s not really my thing. I just kind of “do,” and somehow it all usually works out. But when I’m under water and I can’t breathe, my body just tends to react. I have to learn how to control that, otherwise I’ll definitely die in any emergency scenario.

I think as far as learning to become a better diver goes, it’s just a matter of trial and error to figure out what comes naturally for me so I can handle these situations in a way that comes naturally to me, rather than trying to remember the textbook way. Hopefully in this case practice makes perfect!

It’s hard to believe this was only the confined dive, in a wave-less pool of 10ft of water. I don’t really know what to expect in next week’s open water dives, but I’ll admit I’m actually a little nervous. I’m also excited to see the underwater world, so I guess this is a good example of stepping out of my comfort zone and (hopefully) accomplishing something I was unsure I could do.

Fingers crossed I don’t end up with the bends, spending Christmas in a decompression chamber!