We had an early start today (7:15 in the pangas). First off we visited Islote Tintorera, which is supposed to be one of the best places to see sharks and other marine wildlife. Well, we saw 1 sea lion and some baby marine iguanas. I guess I'd better get used to the fact that I'm not going to see any sharks on this trip, even though I was swimming with one close by at one point. The volcanic rock looks like it has bird poop all over the south side of the rocks, but it's lichen. It's similar to us having moss growing on the north side of our trees. After a short time exploring this place, we reboarded the pangas and landed in the small town of Puerto Villamil. The third-largest human settlement of the archipelago, Puerto Villamil, is located at the south-eastern tip of the island.The water colour is just beautiful here. We took a 50 minute truck ride to the 800 meter above sea level mark before beginning the hike to the Sierra Negra Volcano, which has the largest basaltic caldera in the Galápagos (10 miles wide). Then we hiked uphill for about 1.7 kms until we reached 1,200 meters above sea level. The view of the caldera was incredible. We were told to bring rain gear as this is the humid zone and it could rain. But we were lucky as we stayed dry. It was touch and go for a bit when some clouds rolled in but they rolled right back out without incident. I was actually hoping for a little sprinkle to cool down but it never happened. We came back to the boat and Vic and I jumped in the ocean to cool down before lunch.

After lunch we visited the tortoise breeding centre in the Puerto Villamil area. Many species of tortoises are at risk of becoming extinct. The government has set up the Isabela Tortoises Breeding Centre in Puerto Vilamil to breed tortoises and once grown they are reintegrated into the area that they originated in. The smaller tortoises are kept in cages with screened tops so rats can't get at them. Baby tortoises carapace (shells) are soft and offer little protection against predators. The temperature at which the eggs of baby tortoises are incubated determines the sex of the baby. They have a saying "Dudes are cool; chicks are hot". If the egg is incubated at 29.5 degrees the baby will be a female; if they're incubated at 28 degrees it will be a male. We took a short hike back to town and had a "coco loco" to whet our whistles. Coco loco is a drink made in a coconut with a double shot of sugar cane liquor. It was t my favourite bit I managed to drink mine and 3/4 of Cheryl's! Then we had a glorious hour on a beautiful beach. I spent most of my time in the water.

We caught the pangas back to the boat and got ready for our briefing of the next days activities and dinner. We set sail for Puerto Ayora and it was rough. We lost 5 people yo sea sickness, including Vic, before dinner.

I can't remember the last time I've slept as much as I have on this trip. I've been getting a good 8-12 hours sleep every night. The days are very busy and we spend a lot if them in the hot sun and water which saps the energy right out of you.

History lesson: The Galápagos Islands famed for its extraordinary wildlife and pristine landscapes seems synonymous with conservation — a wonderland for biologists and eco-minded travellers. But the archipelago served a far more sinister purpose less than a century ago. 

On Isla Isabela, where we arrived this morning, on the western side of the Galapagos chain, an 8 meter (26 ft) high wall of piled stones stretches for some 100m (328 ft) amid a scorched, hilly landscape. The wall is what rremains from a dark era of the island’s history: when prisoners from mainland Ecuador were shipped to this remote outpost, and made to toil under the hot sun. In the mid-1900s, Ecuador’s prisons were packed. Rather than build new jails, Ecuadorean authorities would simply ship out the “undesirables” to the sparsely inhabited islands, which in those days was viewed as an unknown and inhospitable site — the domain of pirates, eccentrics, and the exiled. The Isabela penal colony was in fact the third such place on the islands: Floreana and San Cristóbal had as well been used as prison colonies in the 19th century. Little infrastructure was required for these open-air prisons. With strong currents and weak winds surrounding the islands, there seemed little hope of escape. Some 300 inmates, overseen by 30 guards, arrived in 1946, following the end of the Second World War, to establish a penal colony on the southwest reaches of the island. A hastily built site was erected using the wooden buildings left behind by American soldiers posted here during the war. Prison wardens invented difficult tasks to occupy the prisoners. One such idea was to create a wall — one that would serve no purpose, and inflict untold punishment on its ill-equipped builders. This was said to be the place where “los valientes lloran y los débiles mueren” (the strong cry and the weak die). Sounds like the title of a Zorro movie!

I can only imagine the suffering experienced by those who’d been forced to build it. The heavy, jagged rocks, lugged one by one from a distant quarry, must have cut into weary shoulders, and working under the sun’s relentless rays for long hours, the task would quickly turn into a fiery, sun-baked torture. As the wall rose, sudden collapses seemed inevitable, crushing the unlucky few who weren’t quick enough to dodge a rock-laden avalanche. Even minor injuries could have life-threatening implications in a place so far from even basic medical care. Add to this the miserable living conditions with water and food supplies in short supply. Iin the early years of the colony, there were dire food shortages, until the modest success of later farming attempts, and tuberculosis and other diseases ran rampant. Rather than “islas encantadas” (enchanted islands) as they’d been called by Spanish sailors in the 16th century, prisoners here probably would’ve thought they were on “islas del infierno” (islands of hell).   
 
The name later given this endeavour was Muro de las Lágrimas (Wall of Tears). From a nearby hill, you can see the structure stretching off toward the horizon and fading to nothing amid dry twisted shrubs and prickly cacti that blanket the parched soil. I got goosebumps just thinking about how the men must have felt so far from any settlement.  It’s 6km (3 mi) along a rock-strewn sandy road past marine iguanas soaking up the sun and the odd land tortoise to the small town of Puerto Villamil. The penal colony is gone now (closed after just 13 years in operation), but you can imagine the suffering they endured building a rock-wall for nothing. 
Unfortunately, our itinerary didn't include this sight.