Signaling the Aliens at Islas Ballestas

In the next chapter of our continuing adventures, our heroes (that’s me, my wife, and two of my daughters) journey out into the sea to visit a great monument built in tribute of fertilizer.

We boarded a van at the hotel, and found ourselves at the waterfront in Paracas, Peru.  A short time later, at a cost of about $22 USD/person, we sped out of the bay, aboard a boat called “Penguino 4.”

For a three hour tour, a three hour tour.

The weather started getting rough, and the tiny ship was tossed…no really, the water was pretty calm, and we sped out into the bay, bound for Islas Ballestas, which is Spanish for, “islands made entirely out of seagull poo.”

After about a half hour on the water, we reached a mystic place called “The Candelabra.”  This is the only geoglyph near Nazca that is visible from the ocean, and while not officially part of the Nazca lines, is said to point to them.  It turns out it's 183 meters long, just like several of the others.  This makes sense, because any aliens flying in over the water would need to know where they should land.  If the Nazca tribe had worn their tin-foil hats, we wouldn’t have experienced what we did in The Alien Invasion is Coming, and probably wouldn’t have nearly the troubles we have now with Congress.  But I digress, there's nothing we can do about it now.

We continued the trip to Gullpoo island, which turned out to be quite a treat.  At any given time, the rocks are covered with thousands of sea lions, all eager to deliver their state-of-the-union addresses to us.  Other wildlife include massive starfish, a few hundred penguins, and a gazillion seagulls.

A few man-made buildings accent the island, since the Peruvians perform some seasonal mining there, the poo so rich in nitrogen that it is used for fertilizer and explosives.

Seeing so many sea lions in their natural habitat was an amazing experience, but even more so was the sound they made.  The island consisted of a number of caves and inlets, and the wailing sound of the animals sounded almost human.  That is, a human possessed by the spirits of an angry sea lion.  I can see, however, how a ship full of sailors, either drunk or dehydrated, sailing into the coves in the fog, might invent all sorts of stories about how the demons of the sea just didn't want them to land there.  Any of them brave enough to do so anyway got mated by an 800-pound sea lion bull, and told even taller tales to their shipmates.  By a taller tale, I mean demons, evil spirits, monsters, or anything else that would explain lots of bruises and loud noises in the fog, but would at no time mention that the sailor was mated by an 800-pound sea lion bull.

After a time, though, we returned to the bay on Penguin 4.  I was really glad that I didn’t have to spend years filming a hokey television series stranded on that island making all my modern conveniences out of bamboo.  Anyway, I hadn’t seen any.

When we returned, we told the van driver to just leave us, since we wanted to wander along the waterfront.  A handful of great traditional restaurants were there, as well as shops selling touristy things.  Since the area was geared more toward the Peruvian tourist, prices were pretty reasonable.  We ate at a seafood place, where I tried fish head soup (I was disappointed, as there weren’t any actually fish heads in it) and we were able to stuff ourselves to the gills with fresh seafood drowned in curry sauce and a few other strange Peruvian flavors.  We spent about $35 USD on the meal, and left enough food on the table to feed an extra person.  It sure beat the meal we had had the day before in Cheapskates and Stingrays.

We spent the rest of the afternoon just wandering the waterfront, enjoying local food and flavor just like we belong here.  I never once saw Mary Ann or Ginger.