One of the disadvantages of arriving anywhere at the weekend is the risk of increased charges for all the formalities. We know this is the case between islands in the Galápagos but are trying to find out from our agent whether this applies at our first port of call. Better to sail slowly than drift around aimlessly off the coast if Monday is preferred.

We have become a Booby roost. One stayed with us all last night and as it has a deformed left foot we have taken pity on it. However when its mates descend, although we can cope with their preening, squawking and squabbling we also have to contend with copious quantities of bird shit - our boat is turning into a floating island of guano. They all go off to feed during the day and then reappear at dusk to digest and defecate. Might have to dig out the catapult and dried chickpeas (yes, we have these things).

Domestic bliss prevails. Most of the fresh fruit and veg have been eaten but we still have a small mountain of onions and two squash. Mangos seem to last quite well and we ate the last one for supper - it must have been on board for two weeks. After a couple of disappointments of uprisen loaves in the San Blas, Annie’s bread making has returned to form with a new supply of yeast from Sainsbury’s brought out by Tom - they ate the still warm crusty end while I was asleep; how cruel is that?

wind and currents blow

to the isle where the tortoise grows

enormous: galapagos

 

Tom Hutch - cabin boy and cook