Year: 2019

And a Nandu in a Lenga tree

Long Solstice shadows – Lago Argentina Estuary at El Calafate, Argentina

Dec 31 2019

By Annelise

Traveling through Southern Chile and Argentina with the kids during the holiday season from Thanksgiving, Sinterklaas, Christmas through New Years has been interesting.

I am very grateful for our 10 year old who, happily, is still a child at heart. Siri kept her joy of celebrating each special day and would find and point out decorations or signs of holiday cheer. Early in December, Bariloche, with its Bavarian and Alpen influence had Christmas craft markets, street decorations to lift the holiday vibes. Ushuaia with polar wind and some snow ushered in more hopes for a snowy Christmas. The approaching summer solstice erased cozy candles and fires, so she downloaded a list of Frank Senatra and other remixed classic Christmas ballads to listen to on our long car rides through the Patagonian steppe from Ushuaia at the Fin del Mundo up to Torres Del Paine in Chile and onward to El Chalten. She searched out paper crafts to make a wreath (an over complicated origami flexigon) and I made Danish paper heart baskets. She has helped off set the homesickness that was bound to creep in with all the traditions we have been missing. Each hike and long drive, a few miles of trail were eaten up with detailed descriptions of classic dishes, who has the best recipe, which dish will be most missed. More hiking hours passed by recalling fun memories with friends and family around the table of visiting. The wish lists are short, in large part by necessity – we can’t add more to our packed duffels, also in realizing we do not need much and what the kids really want is time with friends.   We celebrated Christmas morning in El Chalten and went out for our traditional walk. It was laughably miserable for a while in the blowing rain, sleet and grit delivered by Patagonian winds strong enough blow our legs out from under us or lean on entirely and providing us new sympathy for those reindeer. The next day we had far better weather for the hike to Laguna los Tres at the base of Fitz Roy and Siri crossed one wish off her list – to play in snow

In the northern hemisphere there is more a sense of reaping the harvest of the quieter introspective time of fall to winter, increasing darkness towards solstice then opening to the new year. I have missed this part of the year associated with our holiday time the most. In our perpetual spring summer heading south we have not had that autumnal pause in our pace. Planning the next place to stay or route knowing it was gradually also leading to the end of our travels as a whole family has left me more grateful for the extended hours driving and hiking in Patagonia to allow my mind to catch up.

The message of Christmas is the joy wonder of new birth, new light, new chances to be kinder to each-other and the world we live in/on. With that in mind, I am looking forward to the next month with the kids in New Zealand. This next phase, the first part of the new year will be new for our family as Mark will be in Seattle while I am traveling on with the kids. It is a new beginning in a way and will come with new challenges and opportunities. After nearly 20 years traveling together it will be so different to be apart – like two trees in the forest whose canopies have grown in just the way that allows each the most light and shelters each-other from storms. It will be new to be parenting and traveling without my life travel partner for a while. So it begins, Mark departs in half an hour!

Nandu: ostrich-like bird of the Patagonian steppe.

Lenga: a beech (genus Nothofagus) tree common in Patagonia on which Darwin’s Fungus (Cyttaria darwinii) can be found

Nonsense title of course, Nandus are not found in trees even on the 12 day!

Patagonia Pensive

Lago Nordskold, Torres del Paine National Park, Chile

Dec 19 2019

By Annelise

As of this week, we have been traveling for three months, every day together. In three weeks, Mark will be back in Seattle and I will continue on with the kids to adventure through more cultures and continents for another half year or more. In the vast landscapes of Patagonia where I feel at once lost in time and feel it’s immensity, I realize again that this time together is truly precious and something I do not take for granted. Looking forward I am not sure if this will ever happen again for the four of us. Never again will we be able to spend nearly every moment with each other for this length of time.

We have had a lot of fun and new experiences through Central and South America -thrills of surfing, ziplining or encountering new animals and foods; goofy moments when we completely miss the mark. The beauty and otherness are stimulating and at times over-whelming.  Not all the experiences have been pleasant, and we have had grouchy, frustrating and wits-end moments. I realize though that the low points, though intense, are just that, points or moments; they are not the arc or thread of our journey.

An apt quote I remind myself of; “A Journey is like marriage. A certain way to be wrong is to think you control it” John Steinbeck, Travels with Charlie. We are learning more about each other’s tempos and temperaments and how to foster individual and family flow. Just as we can’t make is stop raining so that we can experience the breathtaking views of a mountain peak or color of the water, we can’t control individual weather patterns either. There is a balance and tension between the comfort of routine and structure and the ease of spontaneity and taking things as they come. Too much of one or the other and the journey would not move forward.

As if a metaphor for personal growth, traveling through Patagonia takes time. Not just that the distances between parks or towns are immense but also the roads are not always paved, even the main highway in places. There are not many benchmarks or signposts. The map of southern Argentina is denoted by one vast ranch after the next, as we drive there are hours where we barely see any structures at all other than fences. One evening we saw a rancher out fixing a fence post. It must have been one of nearly a million lining the borders of his ranch. How did he know to address that particular one?

We see Nandus (ostrich like birds), Chilean flamingos, black necked swans, brown foxes, armadillos, hog nosed skunks, guanacos, so it is clear that this landscape of volcanic mountains shaped by glaciers over millenia is enough different from familiar territory of the Pacific Northwest. Here it feels like the US Southwest and Northwest combined in the sense of human scale and geologic time. The territory is familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

Places like this help me not take myself to seriously. I feel rightfully like a spec in the universe. Some wonder why I would want to leave for a year of travel. Leaving one rhythm behind to try to find a new one. Not really. I think it was Confucius how said, “wherever you go, there you are”. You take yourself with you when you travel. For me I would say that getting out of my patterns and environment helps me see and feel more clearly who I am at this time. I am developing a better sense of my strengths and weaknesses and how I want work with them as I navigate forward as a person and parent.

Reflecting On Riots

Dec 6 2019

By Haakon

Last week, on our way from Peru to Patagonia, we enjoyed a gracious, cozy visit with family in Santiago, Chile. When we first arrived, everything seemed normal – the buildings were nice, and lots of people were enjoying family walks in the park.   However, the next day we started to realize that things were far from normal. The day after we arrived, we decided to go to the mall to replace some of our worn-out clothes.  As we walked to the mall it almost seemed as if there were no ground-level shops. All the ground-level shops had 10-foot temporary metal walls covering them and were closed even at 11 o’clock in the morning on a weekday. When I got back to Nicole’s house, I asked her why all the metal walls were up.  She said the walls were up because of the rioters, and she explained that there was a city-wide curfew that prohibited congregating in public after 10 pm. Most of the main shops had been opened only for very limited business hours for the past two weeks, so nobody could break into them.  Some shops selling high-end goods had private security.

One afternoon, my dad and I decide to get haircuts, so we walked down the boarded-up streets to the barber shop.  At around 5:30 pm our haircuts were finished, and we started our walk home along the same streets.  To our surprise, there were about 30 national police officers, dressed in riot gear, outside the main mall. Now, they weren’t your basic mall cops.  They didn’t have rinky-dink Taser’s; they had machine guns.  They didn’t have helmets; they had full-body plates and riot shields.  They didn’t have mall cop segues; they had bullet-proof Sprinter vans that bore plenty of signs of heavy abuse from rioters, such as deep dents to body work, and cracked windows.

              Interestingly, once we arrived into the rural areas where we spent time visiting national parks, there was little evidence of the civil unrest we observed in the Santiago and the smaller city of Puerto Montt.  In the small town of Chaiten, life was quiet.

The weekend we were in Santiago, Chile was the 20-year anniversary of the 1999 Seattle WTO protests. It is a strange connection in way. The protest in Seattle had some roots in concern many would be left behind by globalization. From what I understand, in Chile, the cost of living has been rising, tuitions are getting more expansive, and pension values going down. In Chile, a country where low wage workers spend 20% of their income on transportation a 4% rise in the metro fare sparked huge flash metro-fare dodging mobs that led to the Metro shutting down and then flash mobs devolved into a weekend of intense rioting and looting and the destruction of 40% of the metro stations.

              I am glad that now in United States there is not violent social unrest and the economy for the most part is stable. Still, today in America many feel the economy is leaving them behind, the odds are stacked in favor of the rich and powerful and the cost of higher education is more and more unaffordable. I suppose we are not immune to similar demonstrations. Maybe they will come.

It was an interesting Thanksgiving week, I was reminded to be grateful where I live, I am reminded not to take the ease and safety I feel at home for granted and to be more grateful for what I have.

Walking with the giants in Patagonia

Dec 6 2019

By Siri

Alerce trees are among ten oldest-living species of trees in the world and are nearly extinct in Patagonia where they once thrived.  One of the largest, the alerce can reach 200 feet in height and 16 feet in diameter. Scientists estimate that some individual trees are more than 4,000 years old. Charles Darwin would have seen these but most of the oldest trees were logged since he passed by here. In the Pumalin Douglas Tompkins National Park forest they are over 3000 years old and the park is working to protect them. Their round big trunks stretch tall and branches with dark leaves are near the very top. I take big steps over roots as large as branches and wonder how much nutrition trees would need to stay healthy enough for 3,000 years. During our walk I feel so many different kinds of moss at the base of the rain-soaked trunks. I wrap my arms around the trunks of these thousand-year-old giants, and I only reach a small way. I wonder what life was like when these trees were sprouts. All around me ferns and their fiddleheads stand over my head. Bamboo rustles with the wind and hot pink fuschia flowers dance on their tree branches. Umbrellas dipping of the rain, I feel grateful for my new fuzzy and soft rain boots, slurping through mud and splashing in puddles. I feel like a small thing in this big old forest as I cross the springy wooden suspension bridge over a rushing light teal river, listening to nature music.                                                  

Home-stay story

Nov 21 2019

By Siri

We have spent 2 weeks in Peru visiting ancient Inca sites around Cusco. One of the memorable experiences was when we went to stay in the small town of Zurite, outside of Cusco. The small town has the second oldest church in Peru, but mainly it is built of clay houses and farms. As we drove up to our home-stay it took some time because the “streets’’ were so narrow, plus we waited as people walked their cows through the town to graze in the fields. After arrival and a warm welcome, we had a little tour of the house. The house was typical with a cute garden/courtyard in the center. The one room my family and I shared was warm and cozy considering the rainy weather we had. Then we sat down to an interesting breakfast including steamed potatoes, plain corn tamales, whole wheat bread and to drink – steaming hot fava bean tea served in a clay cup. I was surprised that there were no plates. The first thing on the agenda, go see a not well-known Inca site Quillamarka, including a moon temple and cave carvings. In the mist, 2 dogs were herding sheep and goats and a man was walking two donkeys. We took photos of this pretty site and after that, drove to the house for lunch of quinoa soup. I did not eat much because my appetite was low from [A] high altitude and [B] I did not find the flavors that interesting.  

After lunch we went to farm corn at our tour guide’s family farm. The tradition is, while people work, others play music from a small drum and flute to make the harvest a good harvest – that was one of my jobs. Our guide’s name is Bryan; his parents still live in the same house and now raise guinea pigs in the room that had been the bedroom of our guide and his 2 brothers when they were kids. Bryan told us about how he would work in the fields before school and about 2 hours after school and on weekends when he was growing up. His dad is 82 and still works 3 times faster any of us. As we were working, Bryan’s dad brought out a typical corn beer that the Incas made called chicha. He brought out a pitcher and one glass for all to share. My mom tried one sip and she said ‘’it tasted like sour beer”, not really corn kombucha. I thought the work was hard after ten minutes. It is harder to imagine this life all day. After a long day we relaxed a little and at around 6 pm we had dinner of corn veg pancake, quinoa, lupine porridge, and crispy guinea pig; well I didn’t eat the guinea pig. After dinner I was so tired that I fell right to sleep once I was settled down. That same night it was so windy that I was awake for like an hour before we woke up and had breakfast.

The second day we hiked around the hillsides. First, off to see the pre-Inca petroglyph paintings and second a hike to the hummingbird terrace. To reach the high valley walls with the petroglyphs we passed through the eucalyptus tree forest and crossed about nine little streams.  Local people cook with firewood and most of the native forest was cut down, so some time ago Spanish thought to bring a fast-growing tree that they knew from Spain, eucalyptus trees. They brought a few over and they adapted to this ecosystem. Soon more grew so that they used them to make firewood and now the native forests are growing back in some places. After we passed through the forest and the tiny streams we reached the ‘’trail’’ it was so bushy and overgrown that when we reached near the top we had to wait a while because our guide had to make stairs with a machete. The paintings were made around 1500 BC; that’s what the scientists think. We saw a sun, a moon, some lamas and a painting of lightening.

Next, we went to see the hummingbird terraces the Incas made in the shape of a sacred animal. It was neat to see a clear hummingbird in the hillside. We took some photos and went back down but it turned out that we had to walk more – like a hour more to some of the biggest terraces in the sacred valley. Finally, we reached the van to drive to the house for lunch before returning to Cusco.

It would be neat growing up and playing in these hills if I didn’t have to farm so much. It was interesting to really see how villagers live and how much effort it takes to put simple food on my plate.

Posting late because Wi-Fi has been tricky in Patagonia

Peru andando

11/23/19

By Annelise

After a week sailing about the equator the first few days walking the hilly cobblestone streets of Cusco at 10,000 feet had me feeling off kilter and akimbo. We had an apartment just above the charming San Blas neighborhood a block from the San Blas market. It was a great spot to venture into town with the only downside having to navigating friendly street dogs and their “gifts” on a 1 foot wide “sidewalks” while passing minibus mirrors required us to put our backs against the wall.  To get into the center and plaza, we quickly found quieter side walking streets to reduce the hazard of a shoulder dislocation.

All that said, walking is definitely the best way to get around Cusco. Driving through town is like unraveling a knotted skeen of yarn. Walking also lets you marvel at the Inca walls and building foundations that the colonial Spanish architecture squats on top of. Walking also feels like tumbling through a kaleidoscope of color and sound. Every few steps vendors are offering menus, massages, alpaca goods and watercolor paintings. The texture, color and fine detail of the textiles in this region are amazing, I wish I could carry a whole other duffle for soft alpaca sweaters and woven art.

The San Pedro market (apparently designed by the same man who designed the Eiffel Tower) is a dense grid of aisles each selling a different type of ware. The aisles of women juicing delicious tropical fruits, many I had never seen before – bonus each order is enough for 3 glasses. There are aisles of fresh meat; half carcasses being sectioned or piles of chickens with their feet sticking out at you. Aisles of Cheese, honey, trout caviar. Then rows of quinoa, vegetables stalls and those for medicinal herbs, flower stalls with every color of gladiola, an aisle just for chocolate (super yum), food stalls and of course souvenirs. This market and also the one in San Blas are where we bought most of our groceries for the week.

Walking I also notice the older-than-years women hunched forward carrying colorful Peruvian woven cloth bundles half their size on their back; goods to sell at the market, a street corner, who knows but it appears heavy. Younger women use the same sort of bright cloth to strap their babies and toddlers to their back. The men for the most part are less encumbered. So it seems, until you see them at work outside the city center on precarious road projects, driving under-powered trucks with heavy loads on tiny winding roads, working construction with scant scaffolding.

Walking I notice the thin air, with intermittent showers the air is cool and so so very clear. It is breathtaking – literally. There is almost no view from a hillside where you cannot see old Inca terraces or roads. It seems like the entire Inca territory from Ecuador to Santiago must have been lined with terraces of corn. The degree of skill and sophistication of the Inca architecture and stonework when compared to Europe in the 1200s is impressive. A carved 200 ton corner stone here or there, or a whole row or them carefully hewn. Whether hiking ruins or just walking through town the old Inca steps are big, and given that most locals are shorter than me, I figure they must have legs of steel. I had initially planned that we would trek to Machu Picchu via Salkantay, I look forward to returning in the next five years when all in our family has mental stamina can meet the physical requirements of a high Andes trek.

We spent 9 nights based in Cusco and 5 based in Olantaytambo in the Sacred valley. The later a quieter and very much smaller version of the former. Sixty percent of the Cuscenean economy runs on tourism. It is at times annoying to have some many offers placed in front of you. Yet if tourism supports the traditional crafts, traditions and the preservation of ancient sites then I hope the balance remains positive. It is impressive to see so clearly how a conquering nation so thoroughly dismantled the sacred sites and ways of life; harvested the stones of the cherished temples and used them to construct the churches they built in their place. The well and purpose-hewn stones were removed to build new Spanish buildings. After the fall of the Inca Empire not just the stones but the treasures and burial sites were looted. The jungle swallowed up cites as Machu Picchu, and held the ruins mostly a secret for centuries, possibly protecting them from further destruction. Scholars are still trying to interpret the significance of these incredible sites. It is said that history is written by the victors and it makes one want to take the chronicles with more than a few grains of Maras salt. Brutal Spanish colonialism and Catholicism wielded power for nearly 300 years before Peru would reclaim its independence and identity. It is very interesting to experience the melding and tension of the Inca and Spanish history on the present. From the arts, the food, the history and nature it makes Peru very much worth a trip.

Plowing through Peru

Nov 22 2019

By Haakon

Two weeks is not much to see a whole country like Peru but I have been able to see a lot of cool places and view different perspectives. For a week we stayed in Cuzco, the former capital city of the Incan empire. We went to a small farming town for a home stay and we have toured lots of ancient Incan sites.


We landed in Cusco mid-day, so we drove 6 miles in 40 minutes to our apartment (still not as bad a Seattle traffic) along the way I saw so many motorcycles with more than 3 people on them. I was wrong in thinking Peru would be warm because all the places I stayed at were 10,000 feet in elevation, so I had goose bumps. I also realized everyone here is wrapped in baby alpaca hats, sweaters, socks, and blankets. On the second day we actually found a sports bar that played the MLS Cup! The sounders beat Toronto for the second time in the MLS Cup while the Cusquenan team played for the national spot and all of Cusco celebrated with fireworks. A couple days later I celebrated my 13th birthday. The day got off to a frustrating start stuck in Khan Academy purgatory. Then the evening was way better with a reservation at Gaston Acurio’s restaurant, Chicha. I enjoyed a really good dinner of a trout ceviche, alpaca curry and this dark chocolate balloon filled with butterscotch and ice-cream.


The most interesting experience of the past weeks was staying at the farmers house, the reason why is because it put perspective on my life. When we first got to town, we were greeted by an elderly woman wearing a bright traditional dress, we were then taken to her small (but cozy) adobe brick house where she gave us some breakfast. The table for meals was next to the wood burning bread oven so they could stay warm when it got cold. For breakfast we had corn tamales, bread, and fava bean tea with baked corn to put into the tea to add flavor. We walked to our guides parents’ house, he gave us a hoe to work with, then he led us to the field, the field was around 10 acers full of corn. Our job was to turn the dirt so the corn could get more nutrients, I was told to take my shoes off and get working, so I did. I didn’t really realize how hard it was but after doing 35ft of lifting dirt while bent over I felt my back would snap; and the people in this town do this all day their whole life (barefoot with animal manure all over the ground). I don’t know how. When I was finished, I washed my feet by an animal trough before going to the next field for an hour’s work. The farmers drank this kombucha-like drink called chicha which my mom says taste like sour beer. After everyone had finished farming, we returned the hoes to the house, all the adults sat down and ate boiled fava beans and rubbery cheese (probably old milk) while Siri and I sat and watched. The oldest farmer was an 82-year- old man who has been farming everyday from 5am-5:30pm since he was 6 besides school.


Finally, the last part of our Peru visit we got to stay several nights in Ollantaytambo, the Inca site was the last stand of the Inca rebellion. We stayed at this place called The Inca king Hotel, a small place down the walking streets in the center of the old town with all sorts of plants growing on the wall and flowers popping out of every hallway. You can only get to Machu Picchu town by walking or by train from Olantaytambo. One morning, at 6 we got up and walked 12 blocks to the train station, the second we got there everyone was offering us random things like massages, water, backpacks, Peruvian hats, soda, etc. Eventually we found our way to the train where we got our ticket stamped and got on. The train ride was around an hour and a half to Machu Picchu along one of the largest tributary rivers of the Amazon. We got on to the bus to head 4 miles up steep hairpin turns to the top of the mountain where the ancient city lies. The view from the top of the mountain was amazing you could see the sunset, the cloud forest, and the ancient city. It really must have felt
like a city on top of the world.


The train ride back was crazy. First there was a traditional dance that involved masks and colorful dresses. Then there was a fashion show hosted by the train staff for alpaca wool clothing. Of course, halfway through that show, I had to go to the bathroom. Now, to get to the bathroom you had to walk past the crazy half of our train car. I got up and started to walk and all
the tippsy, or just very enthusiastic, people started cheering and clapping like I was part of the fashion show just because I was walking down the aisle. I had to show of my shirt like it was an item in the show. After going to the bathroom, I had to do the same and they were even more excited. In the end I made it to my seat alive and was able to enjoy the rest of the ride. That is my Perurail story.

The Galapagos go with you

Nov 21 2019

By Annelise

What is the draw to visit the Galapagos Islands? A smattering of islands that are ancient and impermanent. New islands being built volcanically while the oldest move slowly eastward tectonically, gradually erode and sink under their own weight and disappear. An ecology dependent on fresh winds and water currents from across the globe. It could be a euphemism for some many of today’s cultural and social topics

I could say for me the draw it is its very remoteness, the stark otherworldly volcanic landscapes of black rock contrasting with the intense blues of the water, being able to see directly how micro-environments of the different islands have shaped and influenced the adaptations of the creatures that have found home there, the opportunity to walk and swim among animals close enough to touch,

Genovesa island’s unbelievable amount of birds soaring overhead, nesting on the cliffs, ground and trees was a sight – Nazca Boobies, Red-footed Boobies, Great frigate birds, Red-billed tropic birds. Wind over the lava flats is punctuated with boobie mating calls and whistles and smells of guano. We watched our steps when walking the island trails to not only avoid stepping on iguanas and nesting birds but even sleeping sea lions. The later smell strongly of canned fish so you can smell them even if they are snoozing just around the corner.

On Floreana island, playful sealions splash around our kayaks while the Galapagos penguins nearly fly by fishing. We watched a flock of flamingo land on a small strand and let us paddle right to shore with them.  One would think this is an island paradise with that description, but the land is harsh and two of the first three settler groups succumbed to murder and intrigue more suited for the tales of pirates that had plied the shores and caves would tell.

Snorkeling reveals so many fish, some spotted eagle rays, recovering corals and many green sea turtles. You can see the planktons and krill that have been brought up from the Antarctic along the cold Humboldt current. At Kicker Rock I swam over and through a huge school of salema that was about 3 meters wide, 4 meters deep and 10 meters long completely filing a cleft in the rock. I am sure they were pleased I was a lumbering human and not a sea lion.

We walked among nearly all the Galapagos reptiles. The giant Galapagos land tortoises are awesome for their very Jurassic like nature. They are docile and shy though they hiss like Darth Vader as they recoil into their shells. As for iguanas we saw; yellow iguanas on Santa Fe, pale only to be found on Espanola island, one of the three (that is the absolute number) hybrid iguanas (a sterile cross between a yellow and marine iguana) on South Plaza island. The various subspecies of marine iguanas on each island from which you keep a bit of distance if you can since they squirt salt from their noses sporadically.  I’m not certain which adaptation I find most intriguing; the marine iguanas that will literally resorb their skeleton and become smaller in time of famine (el nino years) to reduce their food requirements, or that a giant land tortoise can live for nearly a year without water or food.

This week felt magical in that I was transported to such an otherworldly place. It was also made more special by the fabulous crew of our boat, our gracious and ever knowledgeable naturalist guide and the fact that we got to share to experience with my parents who have ventured to most of the world; but not to this particular spot.

Evil on the Equator

Nov 10

By Haakon

We just finished our one-week trip around the eastern Gallopagos on one of the Rolf Wittmer boats. One of our stops was on Floreana island where our guide told us about the curious histories of the first three family’s that settled on Floreana during the 1930’s.

The first to come to Floreana was Dr. Friedrich Ritter, a dentist from Germany and his hygienist, Dore Strauch. In 1929, they left their spouses in Germany and ventured to the Galapagos to escape the inter war great depression after WWI and find peace and tranquility on a remote island. He envisioned life of strong work, a vegetarian diet and lack of creature comforts, even clothes (I am thinking of a bad ecuadorian sunburn).  Knowing there would be no dentists for him there, he had all his teeth removed to avoid dental emergences; Dore declined to do the same. She brought with her, her best friend, a pet donkey.

 The second group of European settlers was Heinz and Margaret Wittimer. Dr Wittmer was a veterinarian, he came with his blind son and his pregnant wife to escape Nazi Germany in 1934 and in hopes of finding a healthy environment for their son. When they first arrived, they used a cave which pirates lived and built it out to include some log and rock walls. Their second son, Rolf, was born soon after to be followed three years later by a sister, Floreanita. The family used other caves to store canned fruits and vegetables, some livestock left by buccaneers roamed the island so occasionally they killed bulls for meat and leather, used two cows for milk and cream, and they had a boat that came four times a year that supplied them with flour and other things they couldn’t obtain on the island by themselves. They raised chickens and vegetable garden later. The extended Wittmer family still lives in the small town on Floreana which we did not visit. A cool fact is: Margaret’s son, the first person born on Floreana, was Rolf Wittimer who started a small boat tour company with his fishing boat, which has now turned into multiple fleets for lots of family’s like us visiting the Galapagos.

The trouble started really with the third party to settle on the island. Austrian “Baroness’’ Eloise Wehrborn von Wagner Bosquet came as an aspiring entrepreneur with her entourage of three men, Rudolf Lorenz, Robert Philipson, and Felipe Valdiviseo all with whom the “Baroness” was said to have romantic relations. The baroness had an idea of starting a hotel business which may have been her worst decision ever.

 Shortly after the Baroness arrived, the disputes started with everyone else on the island and the Baroness. Like I said the Baroness was an aspiring entrepreneur and her initial idea was to open a grand hotel on Floreana, the others did not want a huge hotel on their remote island. Out of the blue, in 1934, strange deaths and mysterious disappearances occurred that still haven’t been solved. The Baroness and Robert Philipson disappeared on a morning walk without a trace. Others say they boarded a passing yacht for Tahiti though there is no record of this, nor of them turning up in Tahiti. It was said that she never went anywhere without wearing her pearl necklace however the necklace was found in her home. Shortly after the disappearance, Rudolf Lorenz hired a Norwegian fisherman to take him to San Cristobal island where he could catch a boat to the mainland; months later both their bodies were found on Marchena (one of the far northern islands in the Galapagos), the fishing boat wrecked.

Dr. Friedrich Ritter, the vegetarian, apparently died of food poisoning as a result eating chicken soup. According to the Wittmers, he said before dying that Dore had poisoned him, though she always denied it. After Dr Ritter’s death, Dora returned to Germany with her donkey (and it is said she died later in a Blitz).

Some talk of the of the Tortoise curse – those that come to seek selfish profit from the islands invariably die or leave.

  -San Cristóbal Galapagos Interpretation Center