In my experience, a seaside holiday always feel more complete with a boat trip. Organised trips are the only way to see Las Ballestas, so early Sunday morning I joined the tourists in their Paracas-branded safari hats down by the seafront. The price I’d paid at the hostel seemed pretty standard and I’d be assured by Naza that this involved going on Orka II, for some reason deemed ‘the best boat.’ Having been told to wait at 7.45am at the hostel for an 8 departure, our guide naturally turned up 15 minutes late, helpfully telling us ‘we need to go to the boat now, on time, so you get the best seats.’ At the dock there was the usual fun of being moved from queue to queue by various clipboard-wielding individuals, as well as some by now unsurprisingly paying additional fees. These included the justified s./5 national reserve fee, though also a payment of s./1 which seemed to entitle me to a piece of paper torn from a standardised ticket book, and not much more. At last, I boarded the Orka II.
I’d brought Lima’s weather with me, and instead of the usual clear blue skies we headed into white cloud and light fog. Still, as we approached the islands this hardly mattered, and we were even able to see dolphins along the way. I’m not sure if it was the fresh sea air, my need to escape the city or the huge range of wildlife all around, by the boat trip was by far one of the best things I’ve done in Peru. Our guide gave a detailed explanation of everything we saw, and getting ‘the best seats’ was not a concern, as the driver maneuvered the speedboat to allow everyone close-up views.
Birds were perched in their thousands on the rocky inclines of the islands, and filled the skies around as they swooped from one projection to another. On the pebbly shore a harem of female sea lions lollopped idly, overlooked by a large male with his mate. The females seem to get a pretty raw deal, as the guide informed us that whilst the male will ‘sleep, eat, make babies’, the female is forced to succumb to her 300kg partner, undergo an 11 month pregnancy and three months later, repeat the whole process. We were able to get just feet away from some of these pups and their families, as the sea lions were also reclined high on the rocksides, making for a rather unnatural site. They hadn’t flown, we were assured, but were taken to their lofty perches during higher tide, which I guessed meant a long wait for some until the sea claimed them back. Better remember to go to the loo beforehand…
Seeing the Humboldt penguin was another highlight. Native to Peru and Chile, the penguin is named after the current which flows north-westward along the coast, itself named after explorer and naturalist Alexander von Humboldt. Compared with the huge colonies of other bird and mammal species we saw, the penguin numbers seemed small, indicating their status as an endangered species. As well as heavy hunting, commercial fishing has depleted their food supply, with nets and equipment also posing a risk to the birds. Our guide told us that in the past few years numbers have been increasing, and a 2008 survey found that the population of Humboldt penguins had grown on the islands compared with previous years, lending credence to his words.
As well as the cormorants, pelicans and a raft of others we also saw colonies of Peruvian boobies. I guess our guide must have been unaware of the significance of the word in English and, childish as it was, I was unable to suppress a little giggle at his frequent mentions of the boobies.
The boat trip was about two hours, and I returned to the shore with slightly wobbly legs and less than attractive windswept appearance – sexy, mussed-up ‘beach hair’ this was not! Unfortunately the sun was still not out, though as I’d hired a bike for the afternoon a break from the heat would be to my advantage.