The Magic of the Galapagos

Every trip that I do which has an exploratory nature to it, whether it be to Europe, Antarctica, the South Pacific, or even to a new destination in the Caribbean, has a “magical” moment to it. A time which will live in memory without difficulty. Which changes me in subtle or dramatic ways. Thus far in the Galapagos, while it has been absolutely fabulous, I hadn’t yet had that singular moment. But it was coming.

This morning, we visited Isabela, searching for our first glimpse of the giant tortoises, land iguanas and other inhabitants.

I haven’t focused too much on the flora of these islands, but lest you think they’re all arid and with low shrubs, this is an example of the lovely and delicate flowers we saw this morning.


This island also boasted several Darwin Finches (I’ll admit, while the naturalist explained the differences, much having to do with the beaks, on quick examination I couldn’t identify which was which species) and even some moths and butterflies.


At first, most of the residents we encountered were the land iguanas, though they were being quite photogenic in the morning light.


Finally, we hear rustling in the brush, which signals there’s a tortoise nearby. Watching carefully, we can see the leaves moving… and finally… there’s a glimpse!

It’s thrilling to finally sight the iconic symbol of the Galapagos about which we’ve heard so much. While it takes careful eyes, we now understand a bit how well adapted they are to their environment. Another gives us a better look as he rests in the cool shade.


Much of the talk today centers around the conservation efforts in the islands. How the endemic species, such as the tortoises, are threatened by the animals which man has brought, such as cats which are now feral on several islands, including this one. Cats in particular are a huge threat to the tortoises’ eggs, but also to other species as well. And because cats are so cunning, they’re extremely difficult to eradicate. The settlements now have strict controls on cats and dogs to try to prevent further man-made effects, but the feral cats are a particular challenge. The Darwin Society scientists are working on ways to specifically target the cats with chemical sterilization for example, but so far they’ve only had partial success.

As a cat lover, I hate hearing about the killing of cats, but when we sighted a feral cat in the brush not far from the tortoises, I understood instantly at a basic level. They don’t belong here. They, like other land mammals, including man, change the environment dramatically and without controls will wipe out what makes these islands so special. Feral cats are natural, and they are wild in many parts of the world. But they shouldn’t be so here. But if you doubt how difficult it will be to find and control them, see how well they have adapted and blend in… Where’s Wald…er, Kitty?


When we returned to the beach area, several opted to go swimming. Thought I’d add in here a picture of the landing area. You can see one of the zodiacs coming in for a pick-up. This landing is described as one of the more difficult, because of the angle of the beach. It is a bit tricky getting off the front of the zodiac and walking up in the soft sand, but the guides and boat assistants do help.


I took this opportunity to get some more pictures of the Sally Lightfoot crabs on the rocks.


Back to the ship for an absolutely wonderful Ecuadorian lunch and a conservation lecture, then it was off to our next destination.

In the afternoon, we went to Fernandina, home to marine iguanas, flightless cormorants, sea lions and… magic.

I’d been looking forward to getting some really close-up pictures of marine iguanas just out of the water, and this was my chance!

After a dry landing, we walked through some marshy areas, then emerged on lava flows. If you do some readings from Darwin’s journals before you arrive, or even watch “Master and Commander” to get a sense of his sense of discovery in these islands, one of the key factors in what he observed on these islands which shaped his future writings were the lava flows. He wrote that it appeared the lava appeared as if it was new and had just cooled in flows like rivers. While these islands are still growing and there are active volcanoes, those areas weren’t what he observed, nor did he observe any eruptions. But the sense that these islands hadn’t been “created” whole and complete is what began to shake up his awareness and later led to his writing “On the Origin of Species.” Lava. Not tortoises, though he observed several different species, and at least not initially not even birds, which were prominent in his later writings. It was lava flows which started the process.

On Fernandina Island, you see flows which invoke that sense of time frozen. The flows are actually in rivers, with ridges. They’ve just begun to weather, to erode, but barely. Green life here only slightly has a foothold, and it’s struggling. Everything is black and lava and wild. Fernandina is one of the two “youngest” islands in the grouping, along with Isabela, and it really shows.

Okay, back to the critters. First up, the marine iguanas! There were areas where they were literally all over one another, warming up from their feeding forays in the ocean. Oddly enough, many of them are in the shadows. Why odd? Because intellectually, you expect to see them in the sun warming up. However, it’s so hot on the lava, they retreat to the shade so as not to get overly fried.


They’re all over the place, in pairs, singly and groups.

The surf and ship are always in the background, not too far away.


Some even have little friends keeping them company.

And the shot I’d been hoping for – I was even able to catch one of them “sneezing” out the salt accumulated in its body on a feeding foray!


Next we moved out over the lava and sand toward the flightless cormorants.

Even here, access is strictly controlled, as there is a marked path on the sand from which you aren’t permitted to deviate.


Keeping you company along the way are families of sea lions frolicking in the water.

As with everywhere in the Galapagos, reminders abound about the cycle of life. Here is the skeleton of an iguana and the remnants of a sea lion with a lava lizard investigating.

At first, you feel a bit macabre and ghoulish investigating these, but it’s all part of the Galapagos experience, and an important one at that. Even as your heart pains at the sight, your understanding grows.

After a few minutes’ walk, you get close to the Flightless Cormorants. These birds have lost their ability to fly. Their wings have atrophied and gotten too small to support their weight in the air, but their hind legs and webbed feet have grown, and their lungs have changed to allow them longer periods underwater to fish. By the way, when I say “get close to” that was a relative term on this day. I was using a super telephoto lens (400mm) and was at the limit of it to catch these photos.
As you can see, they live together with the marine iguanas without apparent conflict.

As I mentioned, life on this island is tough and harsh. Not sure if this was a piece of driftwood which washed up on the beach, or a tree which tried unsuccessfully to grow, but the sea lion didn’t care – it was nap time, and he had found a bit of shade.


Not even a group of us walking by would disturb it.

As you move inland a bit, there are trees trying to take hold. In one, we were fortunate enough to glimpse a Galapagos Hawk.



It was shortly after this that I achieved my epiphany. Because I was getting a bit too hot (I have to be very careful in the sun), I was given special permission to stay behind for a bit, sitting on the lava in the shade behind some bushes. Our group was going to be passing back past this point in a short time, and there wasn’t another group I could join to head back to shade. While this was a breach of Galapagos protocol, my guide had gotten to know me, knew that I respected the islands and their inhabitants, wouldn’t move from this spot… and most importantly that I needed to stop and didn’t want to keep the rest of the group from moving on.

As they left, the silence of the island settled over me. A sense of peace descended. I watched hawks soaring on the afternoon current, while another cried in a nearby tree. A petrel working its way up on the currents around me. Finches calling all around me. Sitting on a raw lava flow. Crackles in the brush behind me from some unknown creature settling in as the sun lowered. Stillness and connection with the rawness and inclusiveness of nature. Even the one fly buzzing me didn’t detract. Much. I was connected. I was part of the Galapagos. It was Magic.

I wrote the above paragraph as soon as I returned to the ship so I could capture the images and emotions while it was fresh. When I experienced it, I was so profoundly happy that I cried a bit, but was smiling at the same time. I’m crying again now as I recall it. I’m not the only person to be so affected by these islands. Many have talked and written about how they’ve been changed. I know I have.

I have to say it’s a shame that more people can’t experience this type of moment in the Galapagos. While the rules are in place to protect the islands and their inhabitants, it does serve to limit a bit the connection. Perhaps it is because I’m an introspective, quiet person by nature, but I find the quiet contemplation to be when I find my special moments. They happen on a dive not when there’s activity all around, or when I’m zooming from one place to another, but when I settle in to watch a fish being cleaned or an invertebrate moving across the ocean floor or watch a school of fish just swimming by. Similarly here, the best moments were those when there was more time to observe, rather than just to see. If you understand the difference between observation and looking, you’ll understand what I mean.

When the group returned a few minutes later, I walked and talked quietly with our guide on our way back to the zodiac. He is a long term resident of these islands and veteran of these tours. He, too, was sorry that more couldn’t have this type of experience. However, he said few would have been comfortable alone in that situation, and that I can understand. We both agreed that I’d had a very special moment, one that few get to experience in life anywhere.

However, even without that experience, these islands would have profoundly affected me. We had many times where we got to stop and watch for several minutes a particular interaction of wildlife. Have moments of quiet conversation with the guide. See touching moments. The ship and itinerary serve to foster that in amazing ways. And the guides are wonderful in helping you to understand it all.

As I said. Magic. Everyone will connect to something different on this cruise, at a different time or from a different experience. Today was mine.

Tonight we had an outdoor barbecue, held on the aft and top decks. Fun and YUMMY! Followed by the Captain turning on the anchor lights when we dropped anchor for the evening. Once again, this attracted the small fish, followed by pelicans and sea lions to feed on them, and finally some large sharks started cruising the area. Seeing the food chain in action is an amazing sight, and a perfect end to this remarkable day.