This position puts me roughly 778 miles southwest of the Galapagos Islands with 2,176 more miles to go until my next landfall at the island of Hiva Oa in the Marquesas, French Polynesia. The last time I put together my log I was 50 miles from crossing the equator. Much has happened since then!

We crossed the equator on July 17 at 4:30am. It was pretty cold, so we skipped the usual celebratory swim, had a bit of rum, threw a bit in the drink in honor of Neptune, and played Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young's "Southern Cross". After crossing the equator, we were finally able to put Tramonto on the rhumb line and make good time towards the Galapagos.

On July 19, we arrived at Wreck Bay on the island of San Cristobal, Galapagos. We did a quick cleaning, pumped up the new dinghy, and headed for town. The town of San Cristobal is a small quaint town with tons of shops and some of the best ceviche I've ever had. The town residents are about 2,500 people and probably about the same number of seals. I tried several times during my stay to just sit in the town square with a cup of coffee. However, every morning, all of the benches were already occupied by the local seal population. I only spent three days on San Cristobal, which is probably good; because it was one of those places I could have easily spent three weeks.

The highlight of my stop here was getting to surf Loberia. It was an excellent break, but the most memorable experience was sharing the surf with penguins, marine iguanas, and seals-that doesn't happen to me very often.

Early morning of July 23, we weighed anchor and pulled out of Wreck Bay. All of the other boats headed for Santa Cruz. The island of Santa Cruz has the largest city and the best provisioning in the Galapagos. It also is fully exposed to the south and has the anchorage with the most roll. Tramonto was already loaded with food, so I decided to skip this stop, instead heading straight for Isla Isabela. I should mention that there are many stories about how expensive it is to come to the Galapagos via boat. A lot of these stories were probably true at one point. My friends aboard Tondelayo stopped here in March of this year. At that time, it cost them about $100 US. This fee was based on the boat's tonnage and you were only allowed to stop in one island. This July, it cost me a total of $49 US to check in and out. Boats that did not stop in mainland Ecuador also had to pay immigration $30 dollars for their passport stamp. However, I did not have to pay this because of my stop in Ecuador where immigration was free.

It was a pleasant overnight sail to Isla Isabela. I had heard a lot about this island, but nothing prepared me for what I saw. It is a beautiful island with six volcanoes. The anchorage is in a small bay where the water is so clear you can spend the entire day watching penguins and incredibly friendly and curious seals swim around your boat. The town is small with sandy streets and limited stores for provisioning. We were welcomed automatically, and everyone was so friendly. Our second night there, we had heard about a small beachside bar that was supposed to have good and cheap food. Along with the crew of Avalon, we decided to check it out. When we got there, it appeared that we had stumbled into a local resident's wedding reception! When the groom saw us, he came running over to us to welcome us and invite us to spend the evening celebrating with them. Of course, at this point, it would be rude not to.

If you ever end up on Isabela, I highly recommend riding horses to the top of the largest volcano. I'm not usually the biggest fan of horses, but this trip was memorable, and this island is my second favorite stop of the trip, after the islands in Panama's Gulf of Chiriqui. I was sad to leave, but it was time to continue on.

It's 2,931 nautical miles from Isla Isabela to the Marquesan Islands. Currently, I'm sailing with Avalon, a 30-foot Yankee with George and Becky from Australia. It is nice to have another boat out here, and it's nice to have something else to look at now and then besides water and waves.

We left the Galapagos on July 29, and the sailing has been great. We have been making very good time. In fact, on August 3, I logged a 169-mile day which is a record for Tramonto. The last few days have been filled doing small boat chores and lots of reading. Hopefully, the overall trip will take around 20 days, depending on wind and current.

Today while listening to French tapes, the sadness of leaving Central America truly struck me. When the idea for this trip was developed, I had no intention of stopping there, and now I couldn't imagine missing the adventures we had there. If you read the State Department's Travel Advisory Web site prior to going to Central America, you probably would never go. I'm not sure where the information they posted comes from, but I suspect that it is somewhat outdated. Sure, there are cases of pick pocketing and petty theft, and certainly there are areas of Panama City where I wouldn't walk at night. However, everything I've just described also exists in most cities in the United States. By not listening to these warnings and exercising some caution, I found a culture, people, and places I love and plan to travel back to often.

Recently, I received an e-mail from a friend encouraging me to come home. He was perplexed as to why anyone would ever want to do this type of trip, not to mention that he thought I'd been gone long enough and it was time for me to get back to work. Unable to write the perfect answer myself, I have decided to borrow one from the former actor and sailor Sterling Hayden:

"To be truly challenging, a voyage, like life itself, must rest on a firm foundation of financial unrest. Otherwise, you are doomed to a routine traverse, the kind known to yachtsmen, who play with their boats at sea -- "cruising" it is called. Voyaging belongs to seamen, and to the wanderers of the world who cannot, or will not, fit in. If you are contemplating a voyage and you have the means, abandon the venture until your fortunes change. Only then will you know what the sea is all about. 'I've always wanted to sail the South Seas, but I can't afford it.' What these men can't afford is not to go. They are enmeshed in the cancerous discipline of "security". And in the worship of security we fling our lives beneath the wheels of routine -- and before we know it our lives are gone. What does a man need -- really need? A few pounds of food each day, heat and shelter, six feet to lie down in -- and some form of working activity that will yield a sense of accomplishment. That's all in the material sense, and we know it. But we are brainwashed by our economic system until we end up in a tomb beneath a pyramid of time payments, mortgages, preposterous gadgetry, and playthings that divert our attention from the sheer idiocy of the charade. The years thunder by. The dreams of youth grow dim where they lie caked in dust on the shelves of patience. Before we know it, the tomb is sealed. Where, then, lies the answer? In choice. Which shall it be: bankruptcy of purse or bankruptcy of life?"