**This is an ongoing series recapping my last vacation. If you feel you have reached this blog in error, please remain online until an administrator assists you.**
Welcome to those of you who skipped ahead from Part 8! Quick recap of what you missed: A United Nations special forces unit kidnapped Dolphin Trainer™ and I in Quito to convince us to use our mathematical prowess and hand-to-hand combat skills in order to deflect a terrorist controlled comet that was careening towards Earth. Long story short, we are now on day 3 of our Galapagos cruise.
During the night, we passed the equator line heading north. Unfortunately, I was asleep and therefore unable to find out what color the line is. Sure, on most globes it is blue, but on others it is white or brown. Sometimes it even has a strip of tape on it. That would have been awesome to see! Hopefully I'd be able to solve the mystery since we'd pass it again on the way back. Of course, I should have just paid more attention when we visited the equator in Quito!
Genovesa Island was our day three destination. Nicknamed "Bird Island" due to its abundance of #33 Boston Celtic jerseys, this horseshoe shaped caldera is the northernmost major island of the Galapagos. Our breakfast that morning was interrupted by five dolphins who went bow riding for about 15 minutes or so. Bow riding is something lazy young dolphins do when they want easy propulsion. I presume adult dolphins frown upon the practice while the real old timers complain out loud, "In my day, we didn't have fancy schmancy cruise ships pushing us all kinds of speed! We were lucky just to catch a baby ripple from a tipped-over canoe. But that's the way it was and we liked it!"
We anchored in Darwin Bay (boy, that Darwin guy really got around), hopped into the dinghies, and made a wet landing on shore. We saw red-footed boobies for the first time. They are the only boobies who nest in trees. These ones don't count. We saw lots of Great Frigatebirds and it was breeding season, so most of the males had inflated the red sacs at their throats in order to attract a mate. Whoever puffs up the biggest balloon gets the girl. I'm sure this would be Carlos if he was a Great Frigatebird.
Dolphin Trainer™ and I held back from the group at one point to get a good phoon shot and when we finally caught back up we saw everyone standing around waiting for us. As we approached, Dolphin Trainer™ turned to me and said, "Oh great. We're those guys now." You know who those guys are. Every group has somebody holding things up, not following directions, and completely oblivious to everyone else around them. We held our breath as we waited for Carlos to give us a stern rebuke. But he said nothing. In retrospect, I think Carlos knew that the inevitable lecture from our own consciences would be more than enough punishment. Boy, he'd make a great dad, huh?! Well, only if you don't include all the hundreds of little daddy-less Carloses his female conquests have birthed throughout the modern and developing world.
While hanging out at the beach waiting for the dinghies to pick us up, Suzanne took the opportunity to have Bill take pictures of her posing with Geist magazine, some kind of Canadian rag that encourages people to send in pictures of themselves reading the periodical in exotic locations in a desperate attempt to make people think the magazine actually has readers.
In a most adorable scene, we watched a baby sea lion nursing and snuggling with its mother. Upasana was so touched by the cuteness of it all that she vomited profusely right in front of them. It was one of those milky pukes that you could see oozing out between her fingers as she tried to cover her mouth. Not surprisingly, the baby lost its appetite after that.
Then Suzanne thought it'd be nice to pose for a Geist magazine photo while sitting right on top of Upasana's liberated stomach chum. Oh those cRaZy Canadians! By the way, park rules are very strict--you are not allowed to bring any food onto the islands for fear of upsetting the natural ecology. So don't be surprised if 10 years from now Genovesa is off limits to tourists due to the invasive Canadian Barf Weed which has decimated the island's indigenous species.
We snorkeled twice in Darwin Bay and it was cold. Well, mostly cold. We'd hit cold and warm spots. Warm spots are nice unless you happen to be swimming behind Dolphin Trainer™.
In late afternoon, we did a second landing on the island, this time on the famous "Prince Phillip's Steps" which are rocky stairs carved into the volcanic wall. Phillip didn't carve them, he just walked on them. That's how the British are. They just walk over something and declare that you should now name it after them. Lord help us all if they ever walk on the moon.
We got to see Nazca boobies who get their name from the strange lines they make on the ground which, when viewed from an airplane, turn out to be intricate drawings of female breasts. Carlos told us to look for Short-eared owls out on the plain. With my binoculars, Dolphin Trainer™ tapped into his inner Miguel and Silvario and was able to spot one that was 500 hundred meters away, still as can be, and practically camouflaged against the background! We were all impressed until Carlos, with only his naked eye, one-upped him by pointing out that the owl had a cataract.
Back on the Galaxy, we were greeted (as usual after every excursion) with fancy drinks and snacks served by Marjorie our ubiquitous bartending/bed making/food server. She also captained the ship and even stood in for the anchor on occasion.
That night, Matus, the King of Slovakia, organized a Crossing-the-Equator party/birthday party for his queen, Milena. Apparently equator crossing ceremonies have a long tradition dating back to before sailors knew where the equator was which left them in an impractical state of constant celebration. Eventually, the equator was defined and the ceremony became a hazing ritual where first-time crossers (slimy pollywogs) became veteran crossers (trusty shellbacks) after undergoing some kind of punishment to appease King Neptune for crossing his domain. Many cruise ships continue the tradition today as did the Galaxy until recent economic cutbacks. However, thanks to King Matus and his Slovakian treasure chest, we were allowed to celebrate this beautiful, ancient ritual which often led to death back in the day.
Carlos dressed as Neptune by donning a mask, snorkel, and bed sheet cape. He topped off his costume by stuffing a pillow under his shirt and wielding a broom. All the women agreed that Neptune never looked so good except Suzanne who murmured something about an old incriminating photo of the real Neptune in Geist. Carlos/Neptune called each one of us up individually and forced us to drink a shot of "iguana blood" which, to me at least, tasted a lot more like a cross between the blood of a red footed booby and the blood of a bottlenosed dolphin.
After downing the concoction, Carlos hit us on the head with a stalk of celery and gave us new nicknames. Dolphin Trainer™ became "Spotted eagle ray", I was christened "Black tipped shark" and Upasana was named "Red footed chunks blowing booby". We got to eat delicious birthday cake since it was Milena's birthday party as well.
The ceremony complete, the party resumed in the lounge where Carlos plugged his laptop into the TV and we danced the night away to the sounds of his music playlist. Without the usual punchbowl to guard and protect, I was uncertain as to what role I should play at this dance party. I DJ'ed for a bit until I become frustrated with the complete lack of Xuxa songs. Carlos, meanwhile, bravely fought for his life on the dance floor as all the women repeatedly attacked him with wrestling-like "dance" moves, then ripped his clothes off and forced their tongues down his throat. It was quite a sight to see an estrogen-powered mob, buoyed by shouts of "Geist! Geist!" overwhelming the mighty King Neptune. Maggie was checking me out during all of this, by the way.
Despite the festivities, I remembered my mission and went up to the top deck in hopes of seeing the fabled equator line. I waited and waited. Minutes or perhaps hours passed. Just as my patience was beginning to waver, I finally spotted a line in the water. Could it be? Yes! I could hardly contain my excitement. There it was! And it was white. Yes sir, it was white as can be. Or wait...Suddenly, I wasn't so sure. Could it be green? Or...brown? What the? I decided my eyes were playing tricks on me until I heard a familiar sound from below. There on the bottom deck, leaning out over the rail, Upchucksana was once again disturbing the natural state of the Galapagos with a steady flood of thunderous chunder spewing from her mouth.
Never one to waste a good opportunity, Suzanne was there by her side, magazine in hand, pleading with Bill to take the ultimate Geist photo.
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