The images presented were taken in the 1990's. Taken as prints, there is degradation when going from print to digital images. Also, where we were traveling sometimes delayed processing for weeks or months and humidity played havoc with the undeveloped film. Still, I wanted to share our experiences through the pictures we took.
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We spent the first two weeks of January 1991 exploring Socorro Island. Six boats had found their way there, and we were sharing the anchorages with them. After being on the island for a week, we anchored in the bay near the military base. Our good friends Terry and Dick off Genesis were in the same anchorage, and they went ashore with us to meet the commandant. This visit was part of the protocol and was expected when anchoring on the island. The best part, he offered to provide us with a guided tour to the top of the volcano that sits in the middle of the island. We jumped at the chance.
We met our guide Nedske at 6 AM at the dock onshore. Since he and our driver did not speak English and we spoke very broken Spanish, most of the day was hand gestures and guessing. We had a very rough one-hour trip with plenty of pot-holes and washed-out areas on the road. While en route, Nedske jumped off the truck and grabbed what looked like a recently born lamb. Both Terry and I feared the reason for the pick-up was to feed the guys on the base. Terry took charge of the lamb because it seemed Nedske's only job was to snag it. The end of that bumpy hour was also the end of the road. When we started to climb the volcano, we thought that the lamb was too small and fragile to come with us, so we secured it to a bush and left water for it. We thought about letting it free, but it was so small, we thought it would wander off and get lost, so this seemed the best solution.
The climb up the volcano was a challenge for Lori. The guide was too fast, and since she was always bringing up the rear, all other climbers would get a rest. As soon as she caught up, off they would go again. She got fed up at one point and said something. After that, she determined when everyone would set out. Although still a stiff climb, at least she had a fighting chance. The vistas were magnificent, and the view at the top was worth the torture of the climb. It had taken an hour-and-forty-five-minutes to get to the top. The monument there turned out to be a good place to take pictures. Eventually, one of them made it into the Seven Seas Cruising Association publication.
We didn't go down the way we came up, which confused us for a while, but we eventually figured it out. We passed vents, steam, and bubbling clay all over the ground. Terry and Lori speculated that this gray, volcanic clay might be worth a lot of money if put in a jar and sold as a beauty product. When we got back to where the truck would pick us up, there was the lamb. He was doing just fine. We packed up and bounced all the way home. Once back at the base, the reality sunk in as the truck brought was back to the dock at about noon. We got out and gathered our things and our guide Nedske, handed the lamb to Terry, "For you," he motioned. Terry looked at me and said, "I'm worried now." We had no choice, we took Boris, the lamb, to Genesis and spent the evening strategizing over drinks. There was no way a lamb could stay on a boat, so although Boris spent the night on Genesis, the next morning we were at the base handing the lamb back. There is a farm there, and we met the lady in charge, Guadelupe, and she was glad to take Boris. Or so we thought. We left the farm and the base that day all smiles and feeling great about Boris' fate. But that all changed the next day. I guess this incident caused a major issue on the base. Nedske got in a lot of trouble for nabbing the lamb and of course, Guadeupe made a lot of noise about that. They tried again to get us to take the lamb, probably to calm the tension on the base. "He could be your mascot," we were told. Yeah, right. Don't think so. We spent a few more days on the island, but not in front of the base. Next stop. Puerto Vallarta.  Lori and Carl on the way down. Gases and the smell of sulphur still escape through vents and cause this active volcano to grumble.  Jan 1991. L to R; Terry, Boris, Guadelupe, Lori, Dick. We dropped Boris off with Guadelupe, the director of the base farm. Comments are closed.
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