May 22, 2026
What a day! We got up early, like 5 am going-to-work early, quickly showered, had coffee and yogurt, and put together our backpacks with the gear we’d need for the day.
I had arranged a tour to nearby Isabela Island, and we needed to be down by the pier at 6:15 in order to catch the ferry. So at a few minutes past 6, we left our cute Casa Paloverde, and walked down to the pier.
The process to get on board the ferry is fairly straightforward, but a bit unusual. We presented ourselves to the ‘Wolf’ ferry company kiosk, they checked their list for our names, and gave us stickers to wear on our shirts. Next, we stood in line to get our luggage X-rayed, and then we waited on the pier for the water taxi that would take us to the Wolf ferry.
We were nearly the last people to get on board the ferry, so the only seats available were at the very front of the boat, with no view outside, and right under an open hatch. We sat ourselves down and settled in for the very bumpy, wavy, tumultuous and sometimes wet, 2-hour ride to Isabela.
Nathan described the ride like the shortest roller coaster ride, immediately followed by a bad tandem skydive, inclusive of the bum hit to the hard ground…and we did that for two hours straight. Thankfully, no one was sick, but I did see the 5-gallon sick pail ready, just in case.
Once on Isabela, we again boarded a water taxi ($1) for the short ride to the pier, paid our $10 entrance fee, and found our guide Roger at the end of the pier.
I had been told this island was our best chance at seeing penguins, so I had my eyes peeled. We saw sea lions, iguanas, blue-footed boobies, and pelicans, but so far, no penguins.
Roger gathered us all together and had us board a wooden, open air bus. First stop was the tortoise breeding center. We walked around the center, saw giant tortoises in the throes of passion(!), tortoise eggs, baby tortoises, and yearlings up to six years of age. At the tender age of six, giant tortoises are ‘old enough’ to survive the horrors of the wild, and are fit to be released.
After the tortoises, we loaded back into the bus and stopped by a brackish lake to see some pink flamingos. If you believe Roger, there’s only 250 wild pink flamingos here, and we managed to see four of them. Now, I wasn’t paying close enough attention to recount whether that’s 250 on Isabela alone or 250 in the entirety of the Galapagos, but whichever it was, it’s pretty amazing that we saw four of them. And they did not care about us at all!
By 11:30, it was time for lunch. We stopped at a roadside restaurant and were offered the plates of the day: a starter of fish soup, and an entree of fish in garlic sauce or ‘Chinese food’. Everyone around us had the fish soup and the fish in garlic sauce, (except the French lady next to me, who ate only French Fries, go figure) so I’m not sure what the Chinese food was. It was all accompanied by a dark red fruit juice, which was delicious!
After lunch we had some free time to explore (and if you’re French, maybe find some supplemental escargot?) so Nathan and I walked to the beach. We walked towards this giant set of stairs to look out over the water, but when we got close, they were crawling with iguanas, and the iguanas were charging towards us, so we turned back.
By 12:15, it was time to reboard our bus, and within a few minutes, we were back to the pier to board a boat. We settle in, and right away the boat captain says they saw no penguins during the morning. Dang! That’s literally the whole reason we’re on this tour!
Almost instantly after setting off from the pier, Roger’s eagle eyes spotted a penguin, so perhaps it’s their act, but we saw penguins, blue-footed boobies, sea lions and iguanas.
We stopped at an area to do a small hike on the lava rock, watch a sea lion swim through a tunnel, and turn back around to get on board our boat. From there, we don our snorkel gear, and jump in the water.
It’s cool water, and a little cloudy, but we saw so many turtles I lost count, a blue star fish, tiny lobsters, two types of pufferfish, a blue parrotfish, a stoplight parrotfish, and a couple white-tipped sharks.
After about an hour, we got back on board the boat to return to the pier and start the return journey of water taxi ($1), Wolf ferry, and water taxi ($1) to get back to Puerto Ayora.
The Wolf ferry was way bumpier and crazier for the return trip. At some points, I’m pretty sure we were sideways going over the waves. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and no one seemed sick, but it was orders of magnitude crazier in this direction than on the way to Isabela.
We arrived at the pier around 5 pm, and had to get ourselves to the dive shop before they closed. Had no idea, but apparently I chose the dive shop furthest away from the pier!
We had to ask for directions several times, as both of our cell phones were pretty much too dead for Google Maps by that time, but we got there with plenty of time to spare.
We filled out the requisite paperwork for the dive, and then the humiliation began. We needed to try on booties, fins, wetsuits and BCD’s. The fellow working asked us our sizes in wetsuits, and one thing we do know is that sizes vary wildly with manufacturer. The fellow gave us each a size larger than we would normally wear in a ‘shortie’ and I tried. I really tried. Actually that’s not true. I was kinda frustrated from the get go. I was sticky from sunscreen and saltwater, and sweaty too. There was no way this body was getting in a 7 mil, full wetsuit.
Humiliated, I asked for a size larger, and still could not get into it. Frustrated, I asked Nathan for help, and he and the dive shop employee tried to cajole the wetsuit up my calves and thighs. Seriously, how can I be the largest gal the dive shop sees? Dive shops and wetsuit makers, DO BETTER!.
I took the wetsuit off, resigned to the fact I need to do it all over again tomorrow, and we set off for Casa Paloverde. A foul mood has settled over us, and now I need to shake it.
Back at our casa, we showered, fixed a rum drink, and set our stuff out to dry, serenaded by 90’s hip hop and tried to reset ourselves.
Once all the prep and clean up work was done, I picked a restaurant near our casita that had brujo, a fish that was recommended by our Quito hotelier.
We didn’t know what we were in for, but she spoke so highly of it, and it turned out, we took one of our regrets, and disposed of it. See, back in 2018, when we were in Croatia, the restaurant we were at had scorpionfish on the menu. The waiter raved about it. But because we were only presented the Croatian name for the fish, and a hefty price tag, we declined. That’s always been a regret, once we figured out what we had turned down…that we didn’t pony up for the scorpionfish in Croatia. Well, turns out brujo is scorpionfish. And tonight we shared a fried one, looking just as ugly as they do on the bottom of the ocean, but oh, so tasty.
