In the morning we were shuttled to the Miami Airport to catch our flight to Atlanta. We rode with a few young missionaries who shared their thoughts with us. Some had barely begun their missions and were wondering what would happen to them. Some had served 19 months and predicted that they might be done.
The airport was incredibly empty and so was the flight. When we arrived in Atlanta, we waited around for a few hours in another empty airport. I’ve never been alone in a bathroom in the Atlanta airport.
Frazier picked us up in Salt Lake after midnight and drove us to his home in St. Anthony. I’ve never enjoyed the cold so much in my life. The next day we came here to where the Teton Dam broke in 1976.
We met with President Flake via Zoom (new app to us) who received our mission report of four months and released us as missionaries. The missionary tags came off and we contemplated our next move.
When we boarded our Sun Country charter to Miami we didn’t know if we would be staying there or continuing on to Salt Lake City. No one had an itinerary because everyone at the Area Office in Lima were scrambling to evacuate the whole area.
We landed in Miami and it was already getting dark, so we collected our luggage and made our to the exit. I looked around for anyone with a familiar face and quickly spied a group of young elders. An older gentleman was walking over to us and introduced himself as the Stake President. He guided us over to the group, took our luggage, and introduced us to his counselor and their children. One of the teenagers was handing out these itineraries and another was holding a box of Krispy Kremes for us to enjoy. What a welcome!
We were told we had a room at the local Hyatt House as well as a van to transport us to the airport in the morning. Pizza was already ordered and we could rest.
Here’s our vanload going to the Hyatt House. Everyone was exceptionally happy. We heard that the first flight out of Guayaquil on Wednesday had been delayed and were sent back from the airport, but they didn’t have anywhere to go. With 2pm curfew quickly arriving, someone suggested that they go to the church building and sleep on the pews, which they did. In the morning they were able to board the 11am flight just before ours.
There were about 100 of in the hotel, enjoying pizza and each other’s stories about evacuation. Most didn’t want to go home. Some would have to quarantine in neighbors’ homes because their family members were immunocompromised. Would they return? No one knew.
I have rarely slept so well. I was emotionally wrecked, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Could Frazier pick us up at the airport? Although we could ask Paul’s parents, it just wasn’t safe to put them in danger if we picked up the virus en route. Where would we live?
We received a phone call late on Wednesday night, the 25th, from the temple president advising us to leave on the next US State Department flight. He then connected us with the member at the office who told us Monday would bring martial law to Guayaquil. There were four flights and we would leave at the 1pm the next day. By then it was 10pm so it was time to pack and do laundry.
The instructions were that we could only bring one bag, but we thought we’d better chance it. After all, we had sold almost everything we owned. We took all the luggage we had packed for the other senior missionaries and put it in the storage lockers on the second floor. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too long until they could retrieve it.
In the morning we woke up and kept packing and were ready by Noon. Sister Ottonelli, who lived across the hall was the only other missionary with us on the flight. I had to sew cloth masks for us because no one in the city had them besides medical workers. We left a bunch of food for the security team and went downstairs to catch a ride to the airport.
The airport staff wouldn’t let us cue inside the airport until the flight was ready, so we stood in line outside in the sun. The security guard was nice enough to stay behind and wait for us, just in case we couldn’t take our second piece of luggage. However, curfew snuck up on us, and he had to leave to get back to the temple in time. Luckily, they took our 4 bags with no problem, wrapped a piece of paper with our name on it and stapled it together. US consulate workers were running the airport. It was the strangest thing I’d ever seen.
We didn’t have a ticket, but our name was on a list. And we didn’t pay for a ticket either. The US workers asked us to sign a promissory note that we would pay for the cost of the flight, but without any idea what the cost was. Our plan is to quarantine with Frazier and Danika in St. Anthony, Idaho and then find a place to live.
Because so many of our senior missionaries had left for the cleaning closure, I needed to pack up their suitcases to return their possessions. Originally I had thought I could bring them on the plane, but the State Department charter flight said we could only bring one suitcase. Yikes!
When I went into Sister Valdizan’s apartment, her living area was flooded. Apparently, the air conditioning system upgrade hadn’t worked very well and we needed some water extracted.
I received full lists of things to pack from the three apartments. In between that job I would walk around the temple to get some air. It’s fun to see these guys wandering on the grounds.
Unfortunately all the workers were mandated to stay home. The city curfew was at 2pm so even the morgue workers had to stop picking up bodies by then. The city began to smell. The deceased were being left outside because no one knew the dangers of having a dead body kept in the house. And with 25% of the city not having running water in their homes, there’s no point telling people to wash their hands.
The hospitals have begun to lock their doors. Nurses are either too sick or too scared to come into work. Ventilators are not common here and the government is trying to procure more. We don’t think we’ll have to leave and are trying to keep a positive outlook. The food is plentiful, but the lines are long. SuperMaxi has their entry line wind through an underground parking area for 45 minutes. And the security guard asked us to go get him some amoxicillin because he wouldn’t be off work until after 2pm.
When we returned to Guayaquil we were expecting a meeting on Monday at Noon. A flash of emails later and we were told the temple would not be reopening yet. There had been a woman return from Spain with covid and she proceeded to attend three big family events.
We began by running out for toilet paper since we were completely out. The lines were pretty long at SuperMaxi, but there wasn’t too much panic buying yet.
We found a way to fix our cable tv so we could watch local news stations in Spanish. In the Galápagos we watched a lot of Spanish TV and loved it, including many Disney movies.
An airport in Guayaquil, Ecuador physically blocked its runway to prevent an incoming plane from landing.
Footage taken via helicopter shows trucks strategically parked the entire length of the runway at José Joaquín de Olmedo International Airport in Guayaquil to ensure an Ibería Airlines flight from Spain couldn’t touch down to repatriate its citizens trapped in the country.
There was a member of the Church working in the consulate who was working on getting flights for US citizens. But with the mayor not allowing planes to land, there was no point in chartering anything.
After enjoying our Airbnb in Santa Cruz we returned to San Cristóbal to a new location. The Sparks left earlier and spent a week in Quito and Otavalo. We were so jealous and want to return there someday.
While walking around in town, we caught up with a set of missionaries serving on the island. We tagged along with them to a local spot that had the most delicious chicken and fries. And we returned after that because it was so delicious.
This little kitty is being well fed with my bits of chicken skin.
I’m not that fond of chicken feet, but the Ecuadorians put them in soups. For such a hot place, I’m surprised at how much they eat hot soup.
The covid pandemic has arrived in Ecuador. When we returned to Isla San Cristóbal they were taking our temperatures on the dock. Now the news says the last flight out of the Galápagos is on Sunday. Luckily, our flight is on Saturday. Sister Calderon called to check on us, but we’ll be back soon.
Our next day was spent exploring some great places to swim. Our first foray for our trip was to Tortuga Bay. Once you found the entrance for the walkway, you sign in and walk over a mile to the beach through desert type vegetation with cacti. We especially enjoyed seeing the “pine tree” cactus since the bark made it look like a pine tree. Once at the beach, we walked down to Playa Peninsula and Tortuga Lagoon.
Tortuga Bay has a gigantic, perfectly preserved beach that is forbidden to swimmers and is preserved for the wildlife where marine iguanas, Galápagos crabs and birds wander along the volcanic rocks. There is a separate cove where we swam with white tip reef sharks.
Plenty of surfers were out playing, but signs prohibited body surfers and boogie boarders. The waves and currents were just too strong for the average swimmer.
“Can you read that? I think we’re supposed to eat their fingers.”
If you sleep too long in the sun, you might wake up surrounded by strangers.
Before Charles Darwin arrived in the Galápagos, no one knew that marine iguanas existed. He wrote in his journal “This marine saurian is extremely common on all the islands throughout the archipelago. It lives exclusively on the rocky sea-beaches, and I never saw one even ten yards in-shore. The usual length is about a yard, but there are some even four feet long. It is of a dirty black colour; sluggish in its movements on the land, but, when in the water, it swims with perfect ease and quickness, by a serpentine movement of its body and flattened tail, the legs during this time being motionless, and closely collapsed on its sides. Their limbs and strong claws are admirably adapted for crawling over the rugged and fissured masses of lava which everywhere form the coast. In such situations a group of six or seven of these hideous reptiles may oftentimes be seen on the black rocks, a few feet above the surf, basking in the sun with outstretched legs.’”
We were told to bring along some bakery items so the Darwin finches would come eat out of our hands. They were so light, I could hardly feel them.
Swimming in the lagoon was my favorite part of the Santa Cruz experience. The water was warm and clear, the sand was clean, and the little sharks darted around me.
In English “Grieta” translates as crevasse. Las Grietas is a long crevasse, or fissure canyon, with high volcanic walls, filled with emerald green waters.
The water at Las Grietas is a mix of seawater that enters from one end, and freshwater that filters in from the other. The protected walls mean that the water is crystal clear and very calm with no current – perfect for a relaxing swim.
I was afraid to use my phone, so this picture is all we have to remember a cool swim in the canyons. A long hike in and out was totally worth it.
Sunday on Santa Cruz meant we were able to join the Saints in their sabbath worship. They have a beautiful building in the heart of town and we were able to meet up with the Sparks.
We met all of the missionaries serving in this branch and enjoyed sacrament meeting and Relief Society, too. Afterwards, the branch president and the four of us had lunch together and talked about the challenges on the island. The branch president was in the travel business and set us up with an expedition the next day. An employee picked us up on Monday and took us to the craters and El Chato tortoise reserve.
After viewing Los Gemelos (the twin craters), our next excursion was to walk through lava tunnels. In the village of Bellavista on Santa Cruz Island, you can walk through lava tubes. These are very similar to those we’ve seen at Mount St. Helens.
The outer skin of the molten lava hardens while the liquid magma continues to flow through, eventually leaving behind a cavity of empty tubes.
There are plenty of these happy fellas wandering around the acreage, eating as they go.
For scale, you have to climb inside. There is plenty of room to move around.
As I was walking down a street on Santa Cruz, I heard the hum of a sewing machine. Down a few feet below the street level was this sewing shop with three machines. I know many women who would complain about that sewing chair. It reminds me of a Chinese proverb:
“When there is food on the table there are many problems. When there is no food on the table there is one problem.”
After a few days on San Cristóbal we boarded a boat for the island of Santa Cruz, where most of the population lives. The restrictions imposed by Ecuador are very strict on permitting citizens to live on the islands.
Galapagos is not accepting any new permanent residents. In 1998, a law was passed granting permanent residence to anyone who had lived there for five years, or who did from that point on.
The last permanent residencies were granted in 2003 to those who had just moved there when the law took effect in 1998. Now, only those who marry or are born to residents can get permanent residency.
This was far from my idea of a “ferry,” but that’s what they called it. After about 30 minutes, we boarded a small tinder which brought us into the marina.
How many different animals can you spot?
Almost everything by the dock is pulled from the ocean.
And if you’re patient, you can get a bite.
Upon arrival, each individual must pay $100 cash at the airport. This gives you access to the National Park. The government has designated 97% of the land area of the islands as the country’s first national park. The remaining 3% is distributed between the inhabited areas of Santa Cruz, San Cristóbal, Baltra, Floreana, and Isabela.
Our first expedition was out to Kicker Rock, a 500′ rock that juts out in the Pacific off the coast of San Cristóbal. Our friends the Sparks got an early sailing and we followed an hour later. They showed us a video of all the hammerhead sharks swimming beneath them. Luckily, a storm came up in the interim and stirred the water up enough that we were completely oblivious to their presence.
This does not inspire confidence as a snorkeler.
We’re going snorkeling in there?
Two of the passengers were going diving and needed instructions. It turned my stomach just to imagine diving in this remote area, but they seemed to have a great time.
Since I didn’t have an ocean camera, I found some pictures of the things we saw on our time in the water.
Imagine the underwater sounds of fish chomping on the coral. It’s a hundred tiny clicking sounds surrounding you on all sides.
We then wandered around in our boat to see the blue-footed boobies on outlying islands. The blue-footed booby is distributed among the continental coasts of the eastern Pacific Ocean from California to the Galápagos Islands south into Peru.