Santiago: Sullivan Bay Lava Walk

Wednesday, 11 July (Part III)

The zodiac portion of our morning activity at Sullivan Bay completed (post here), we headed ashore for the short walk.  The daily program noted that this could be a wet or dry landing, depending on conditions.  We were prepared to remove our trail hikers, but it wasn’t necessary; the zodiac nosed up to the rocky shoreline and we stepped right onto the lava flow — and into an enchanted landscape.

Two to Travel goes a-walkin’ on a lava flow for the first time.

While we saw and walked on eroded lava rocks when we went ashore at Puerto Egas, what we saw and walked on at Sullivan Bay was completely different.  Here are some of the snippets I recollect from what our naturalist told us as we wandered around this most fascinating place.

The archipelago has a volcanic origin that dates back 3-5 million years.  In geological terms, that’s really recent.  The islands on our itinerary are younger in age, which probably makes them newborns, geologically speaking.

As the Galápagos Online website explains, “Edges of the lava field advanced in tongues, hot magma raced ahead, flowing around and eventually engulfing any obstacles in its way.  The extreme heat created by the flow would cause obstacles like trees to evaporate, leaving behind only an imprint of the life which once existed.”

these bubbles were created when pockets of gas or water trapped under the lava exploded.

The lava flow we walked on this morning dates back to an 1897 eruption of one of the volcanoes.  It is  the walkable kind known as pāhoehoe, which means rope in Hawaiian.  This kind of lava is rather rare around the world, but common in Hawaii and the Galápagos.  I don’t know if the hollow, tinny sound our footsteps made is a feature of this type of lava, but it was something that came as a surprise to me.  As did the brittle feel of the lava underfoot; it was stronger than it appeared, however.

some of the fantastic ‘lava ropes’ for which these flows are named.

That’s one way of getting myself into A photograph :-)

And here’s the real me trying to decide which pattern to photograph.

I’m officially entranced with this lava flow; look at how the ropes glitter under the sun.

We’re lagging behind our group — again!  No surprise; the landscape is so fascinating.

The Mollugo carpetweed is a colonizing species; it’s one of the first signs of
life returning to land devastated by a volcanic eruption.

In the bright light, it’s hard to see what I’m photographing … see below.

Fissures in the surface give us a glimpse into the layers of the flow and the mineral content.

The videographer in action as he attempts to capture the landscape on tape.

A lava lizard on what can only be described as its home turf.

Time to get down and dirty for a different perspective of the pāhoehoe.

Obviously nothing could stand in the way of this lava flow; it just goes on and on.

Lying down on the job!

There is an upside to the lava as well as a downside.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was a piece of fossilized turd.

The interesting lines, squiggles, textures never end.

The lava cactus is a colonizing species, proving life can flourish on lava.
Growing in clusters, this is The smallest cactus species in the archipelago.
New growth is yellow, turning brown and then grey with age.

The spiny fruit of the lava cactus contains numerous blackish-brown seeds.

The lava cactus was our turnaround point to the landing site.  We wished this landing was longer, but are glad that we didn’t do the long walk.  Trying to keep pace with the group would not have allowed us the time to really enjoy what we were seeing; listen to the sounds our footsteps were making; or explore the nooks and crannies and fissures.

I took this photo from our landing site for the scenery; saw the Sally Lightfoot crab,
but didn’t notice the sea lion until I was processing the photo for the blog.
Can you see it?  Hint: look on the lava on the far side (left).

Compliments of our naturalist; a group shot to remember our lava walk.

For those interested in the geology of the Galápagos Islands, this website has basic information that doesn’t require a degree in earth sciences.

Next up … our afternoon landing.

Santiago: Sullivan Bay by Panga

Wednesday, July 11 (Part II)

After the gorgeous sunrise that kick-started our day (post here), we had high hopes for our morning landing on Santiago Island (aka James Island).  Though it turned out to be quite different from what we’d done on the previous days of our cruise, it did not disappoint.

Beautiful and interesting altocumulus clouds.
these are the same clouds that made the sunrise so glorious this morning.

We’d stopped to explore Puerto Egas on the northwest coast of the island just two days before (first post here).  Today’s landing was at Sullivan Bay on the east coast of Santiago, and was completely different from our earlier landing on the island. 

The arrow points to our landing site at Sullivan Bay, located across from
Bartolomé, the site of our afternoon landing.
[map courtesy of the GalapagosIslands.com website]

Named for Sir Bartholomew James Sulivan, a life-long friend of Darwin’s and a lieutenant aboard the Beagle, the correct spelling of the bay’s name is Sulivan, with one “l.”  But everyone, including the Galápagos Conservancy website, uses the double-l version, so I’ll go with that in this post.

Glimpse of the volcanoes of Sullivan Bay from the ship.  The volcano pictured to the
left is the last active one on the island; let’s hope it behaves itself today :-)

All the dark brown areas are lava flows; some are easier to walk on than others.

Passengers from three other small ships are visiting Bartolomé, which is
situated across from Sullivan Bay; our turn will come this afternoon.
[horrible lighting in that direction, so I used a post-processing filter on this photo.]

There were two morning activities to choose from — lava rock walk and zodiac ride, or zodiac ride and short walk.  The first one was billed as being a long, hot hike covering about 1.5 miles (2.4 km) over black rocks with often uneven footing.  It wasn’t the terrain that kept us from doing this activity; it was the pace.  Getting a sense that there would be little time to stop and smell the roses, so to speak, and considering the temperature factor, we opted for the short walk.

Amongst the last in our group, we were off for our zodiac ride shortly after 8:30a.  Once again, we hugged the eroded cliffs that had such interesting lines and textures, and nooks and crannies.  Wildlife within camera distance was limited, but we saw a new-to-us bird; we’re happy with what we came away with from the ride.

From black, to brown, to yellow, to orange-red — and of course the blue of the
ocean and the sky — and a touch of green, the landscape is a kaleidoscope of colors.

Perched on a guano-painted ledge, a blue-footed booby patiently poses for us.

Boobies’ eyes are placed on either side of the bill and oriented towards the front.
This gives them binocular vision, but they sure do look funny when they look straight at us!

Having Just come out of the water after a feeding dive, this marine iguana is using its long,
sharp, recurved claws to grab onto this rock and soak in the warming rays of the sun.

The Brown Noddy Tern is a tropical bird with a worldwide distribution.  The Noddies
found in the Galápagos are an endemic subspecies.  Often unwary of predators (the
Latin name comes from the Greek and means unmindful), this bird finds safety in numbers.

From the cliffs, we headed towards the white sand beach in the distance to check out some blue-footed boobies that were diving, but they were resting on the water by the time we got there.  Instead, we enjoyed the scenery while the naturalist explained that the lava in this area is the kind known as “Aa.”  The name comes from Hawaiian and means “stony rough lava” and is indicative of the loose, broken, sharp, and spiny surface that makes it difficult to walk on.  “Aa” is right :-)

We were thinking we’d be landing at the white sand beach in the far cove, but …

… despite the beautiful scenery, this lava is not the kind we want to walk on.
A quiet afternoon on this beach would be great, though.

A couple of American Oystercatchers rest on the beach.  I wonder if they’re a pair?

The last active volcano on the island with some of that Aa lava flowing to the shoreline.
I’m told that the lava flows at Sullivan Bay are from the late 19th century.

I started this post intending it to cover our morning activity, but I have too many photos from our walk to share, so that will be in the next post.