EDITOR'S NOTE: Today kicks off a seven-day series on boat-related vacations that leave the steering, cooking and maintenance to somebody else. For more about this series and why we did it, please see the Room 13 blog.
Ecuador. The Equator. The Galapagos Islands. There is unusual magic in these words. You can read and read about the blue-footed boobie, about Darwin's five-week visit here and about the seals that yawn when you go near them and do not scare. Darwin or not, it does not sound like our world, and many of us decide we've got to inspect it for ourselves.
If you are like me you lean toward an Ecuadorian ship to sail there, a small one-so you can be close to pebbly shorelines and low to the sea. I fell for the Parranda, a 16-passenger 1950s-era motor yacht run by Ecuador's Quasar Nautica Line.
From the website photo, it has a the air of an island steamer, all wood with brass trim. But the price is less than deluxe, starting at about $2,300 for an 8-day cruise. I fish out my Hercule Poirot-style tropical hat, and initial the forms.
There are many ways to get on the water, and not all of them involve sitting in the captain's chair. While we all love our boats, planning a vacation as a passenger this winter will allow you to travel to exotic waters while leaving the hassles to someone else. It's a strong antidote to the dreary, landlocked days some of us have in store.
To lend some inspiration to your planning, Mad Mariner is publishing a story every day this week that highlights vacations both exotic and aquatic - vacations to places like the Galapagos Islands.
SNORKELING WITH A HAMMERHEAD
A national wildlife sanctuary since 1934, the volcanic Galapagos Islands rise up 600 miles off the Ecuadorian coast. There are 13 of them, not including islets and protruding rocks. San Cristobal Island, where I fly to meet the ship, looks like an Army blanket from the air. It's wrinkled inland but tucked in tightly along the coasts.
Peter MandelThe Parranda looks the part of an island steamer, but the cost was reasonable.
The Parranda has its tightness, too. Cabins are ship-neat, not big on decor, but everything fits and there is a canopied top deck where we can spread out after snorkeling in the heat of the day.
Our lounge chairs are arranged in rows beneath a gray-green bell. This is the bell that calls us to breakfast and dinner. This is the bell that rings in a stiff wind. And this is the bell where a seagull perches at night, fluffing his feathers until the minute of dawn.
Most of us put on our suits as soon as we unpacked and rummaged through a box of masks and flippers. "You will be snorkeling with sea lions," warns Gabriel Ribadeneira, our naturalist and guide. "Sometimes they swim up and blow some bubbles in your face. This is okay. They are playing."
It's certainly okay with me. And although I don't see seal bubbles in the choppy water, there are black marine iguanas and aluminum-bright backs of darting fish.
Suddenly one of the snorkelers slaps my flipper with his hand to get my attention. It's George Larson of Laguna Beach, California. The underwater parts of George are being circled by a strange gray shape.
"Hammerhead shark," he sputters, pulling off his mask. It isn't a big one but we yell to Gabriel who is floating in the raft nearby.
"Good sighting," he shouts back. "If you enjoy sharks, there is about a four-foot white-tipped over near those rocks."
I'm about to kick away from where Gabriel is pointing when I hear someone laughing behind me. Louise Biddle from England points to a black and white underwater blur. It's a swimming Galapagos penguin, apparently on an important errand.
As Gabriel informs us over dinner, "The Galapagos is the only place in the world where you will see penguins next to a cactus."
