Reflections on Darwin's Islands

As the bowsprit rises and falls the ocean is parted as we make our way back across the open ocean towards Baltra, our final destination. Our week aboard the Beagle has exceeded my expectations in every way. I was expecting to see wildlife and to be able to enjoy the sunshine on deck but the experience has run deeper than that. The Galapagos is a truly special place, unique in its flora and fauna and yet only accessible to a few. Each island is distinct and offers something that cannot be experienced anywhere else on earth. Common themes run through the islands: the tinder dry grass; the eponymous Palo Santo; the scurrying lava lizards and the itinerant marine birds; but, in each case, something is transformed. The islands and sea team with life and nothing 

is suspicious of human interaction.

As we stood atop the small island of Bartholome yesterday evening we could see flashes of silver dotted around the ocean as Eagle Rays were breaching the surface in an ostentatious and spectacular mating ritual. As they emerged from the ocean they would rotate onto their belly, flashing silver, before tumbling back into the ocean. These displays are typical of the daily spectacle in the Galapagos. Whatever time of year you are here there is something unique to see and each day brings something new and unexpected. Over the last three days we have seen a boobie chick emerging from it’s egg, mating penguins and giant tortoises and hunting herons. We have come to expect the unexpected as that is the only constant on these islands.

Life on the open sea has been an entirely new experience for both Sarah and me. At the beginning of the trip we had misgivings about sleeping aboard and the threat of motion sickness. As it happens, Sarah has only been laid low once and I seem to have escaped pretty much unscathed. Life aboard a yacht has a fantastically self-contained and harmonious feel. The sight and sound of the sea becomes second nature and begins to lull you into deeper and deeper states of relaxation. When time is short again, I can imagine that holidays aboard a charter would be instantly relaxing and yet engaging enough to not get bored.

The other element of the vacation that has surprised us is how much we have enjoyed the snorkeling. Sarah was particularly worried about the prospect of snorkeling but has taken to it like the proverbial fish to water. The sight of tropical fish and even sharks has not put her off so the next step will be to take a scuba diving course when we are back in the UK.

Tomorrow we head back to the mainland to begin our journey South to Peru. Our next fixed date is the Inca Trail in late January and we will need to be in Cusco to acclimatise a few days in advance. As such, we plan to make our way down to Cuenca in Southern Ecuador on Wednesday and then Towards Lima on Thursday by long-distance bus. In the meantime I leave you with a few photos from our week in Las Islas Encantadas (The Enchanted Isles). Like Odysseus I was seduced by the Siren calls of the islands. I suspect that this won’t be our last trip to the Galapagos.

The price of conservation

Our day on Santa Cruz brought home the inherent tension that exists in the Galapagos between the needs of a human population and the need to protect the fragile endemic ecosystem. Human habitation has fundamentally changed the ecosystems of the inhabited islands of Santa Cruz, San Cristobal and Floreana. Human habitation and the desire to domesticate livestock and cultivate introduced species has the inevitable side effect of leaching into the endemic ecosystem. Many to the introduced species are able to out compete the endemic species and can lead to a fundamental and often irreversible imbalance in the ecosystem. On some islands, the feral goat populations have over grazed the low hanging plants that are critical to the survival of the giant tortoise, to the extent that sub-species have become extinct. Turtle nests have been raided by black rats and feral cats have feasted on nesting sea birds.

The Charles Darwin Research centre plays a critical role in managing the environment of the park with active eradication programs for feral animals and invasive non-endemic plant species. In addition, they have an active breeding and rehabilitation program underway for the giant tortoise. Each island has it’s own sub-species, adapted to the specific conditions of the island in question. On Española, where the endemic tortoise population was approaching collapse, the CDRC has successfully stabilised the population and continues to reinforce the gene pool to ensure a healthy future.

The port of Puerto Ayura is more akin to a Greek or Turkish seaside town than anything I have seen in Ecuador to-date. Over 70% of the local population is supported directly by tourism and the rest seem to be closely linked into the supply chain. It seems that the average wage on Santa Cruz is significantly higher than the national average and therefore many mainland Ecuadorians have the desire to move to Galapagos, but most are refused entry. The T-shirt and souvenir shops of Puerto Ayura give way to plantations of banana and plantain and ultimately large mixed haciendas with cattle, fruit and even coffee. The commercial demands for fruit, vegetable and dairy products has fundamentally changed the ecosystem of Santa Cruz at the expense of the endemic species. Small scale tourist operations are increasingly giving way to larger operators with up to 100 passengers at a time. Although, on the one hand, this is positive as it brings hard currency into the economy, it must be having an effect on the environment and the potential sustainability of the ecosystem. Every tourist increases the demand for power, which ultimately results in the need for more diesel, and every new mouth to feed requires more land to be cultivated.

Despite the fantastic work of the Charles Darwin Research Centre this natural gem is under threat. Mass tourism is incompatible with this environment and the strain is already beginning to show. Although I would love to see more people get the opportunity to visit these Enchanted Isles I hope that the Ecuadorian government institutes quotas to preserve this special place for future generations.

Under sail to Espanola

As the stern of the Beagle swung around the bloated sails spilled their load, flapping lazily in the warm breeze. The schooner looked majestic under full sail in the late afternoon sunlight but barely sustained a knot and and half without motor assistance. The heavy steel hull and utilitarian rigging was made for durability, not speed. It was noticeable how much smoother the crossing was under sail. The Beagle fell into step with the natural rhythm of the swell and the dulcet gurgling of the wake attracted a small band of petrels flitting around the surface, skimming plankton disturbed by the keel as it carved through the ocean.

This morning found us in Española the most southerly and easterly island and therefore, geologically the oldest. The island is renowned for it’s bird life and the unusual marine iguanas. As we made our way from the flat northerly bay to the cliffs on the south coast we passed numerous blue footed boobie and nazca boobie nesting sites. In some cases we could see young chicks, still covered in snow white down, flapping furiously to attract the attention of their mothers.

A salt spray pervades the air, a consequence of the blow hole at the base of the cliff. As the swell sets drift in from the open ocean the pressure raises until a super-set causes the pressure to release as a massive cloud of sea spray, several hundred feet into the air. The tropic birds appear to enjoy soaring above the blow hole waiting for the spray to blow them closer to the cliffs. As we round the headland we come across the sole remaining waved albatross. During the months of August to December up to 12,000 albatross, the only tropical albatross in the world, colonise the island before heading off again on their solitary wanderings of the deep ocean.

As we make our way back to the landing site we pass a pair of Galapagos hawks silently perusing the undergrowth for lizards and iguanas. These silent predators seem oblivious to our intrusion in their environment unlike the mockingbirds that seem to follow us in the knowledge that many tourists will drop tidbits or give them an easy drink of water. As we reach the shoreline again we can have to step over the proudest and most colourful resident of the the island the marine iguana. Unlike the marine iguanas on other islands, this sub-species is a brightly coloured green and red caused by the diet of red sea pursulane.

Our evening crossing will deliver us to our first inhabited island, Santa Cruz. Tomorrow we will be heading to the Charles Darwin Research Centre to see something of the conservation work that is being done to maintain the ecological integrity of this fragile ecosystem.

Iguanas and seabirds

As I stand atop the cliffs of South Plaza Island the Shearwaters are darting in packs along the foaming waves, shifting direction in unison. The red-beaked tropic bird soar past on the updraft from the cliff their extraordinarily elongated tail feathers, like birds of paradise, trailing behind them. Flashes of black and red juxtapose against the purest white of their underbelly as the tuck their wings in to swoop lower into the breeze. To my left a large male sealion is basking on the basalt rock outcrop of the bachelor colony seemingly oblivious to the carcass of another being pick over by the sally light foot crabs. As I cast my gaze over to the other side of the cove I can see the black masked Nazca boobies cheek by jowl with dusk marine iguanas, warming themselves in the sun.

South Plaza is covered in prickly pear cactuses, the older ones visible by the fact tat they have bark covered trunks rather than needles. All of the cacti appear to be in flower, cadmium yellow and the diameter of an espresso cup. Finches flash from one flower to the next feasting on the nectar and inadvertently taking deposits of pollen from one to the next. The brightly coloured land iguanas move slowly from cactus to cactus looking for low hanging flowers to nibble. As we make our way down the path small lava lizards, the size of a pencil stop in their tracks, cock their head back and pump their legs. We stop to allow them to make their way and they oblige with a sharp scurry into the undergrowth.

Over the two hours to lunch we cruise our way around to Santa Fe and find ourselves in small lagoon, sheltered from the oceanic swell that rolls in from the east. This small sandy lagoon plays host to a colony of sealions and an abundant array of tropical fish. After lunch we are dropped off close to the shoreline to make our way around the lagoon. Sarah and I paddle our way around, urgently pointing out dazzling fish as the pass in schools. Yellow tailed surgeon fish, the size of a small dinner plate, congregate in schools of fifty to a hundred. Every now and then we see the hulking body of a mexican hogfish with long tendrils trailing from their dorsal fins. As we cross the lagoon towards the opening to the open ocean we pass over a pair of black turtles lazily paddling their way from vegetation to vegetation grazing. The excitement of seeing the turtles is punctuated by a brown flash passing underneath us and contorting to change direction. This effortless flash is a sealion, toying with us, inspecting us to see whether we are worthy of attention. Food is obviously on its mind as it accelerates through the gap into the open ocean in search of some tasty morsels. As we make our way back to the boat we pass over a couple of ghostly rays fluently beating its wings, kicking up small vortices of sand from the bottom.

Tomorrow we are off to Española for more of the same. We are being deduced by the abundance of wildlife and the lazy pace of life onboard. Gorging ourselves on a diet of sunshine and wildlife is intoxicating and a real privilege.

Aboard the Beagle

Against the backdrop of a starlit sky I can see the silhouette of a magnificent frigate bird gliding along in the rigging of the 

Beagle. The shearwaters are darting playfully left and right just above the surface of the sea. The gentle lilt of the boat is accompanied by the soft hum of the engine as we make our way from our first anchorage on the Leeward shore of North Seymour to our overnight anchorage. The warm, moist breeze is tinged with salt and the cushions feel damp to the touch. It is a world away from my exertions on Cotopaxi and a perfect tonic after the hustle, bustle and pollution of Quito.

Our home for the next week is the Beagle, an English built schooner that plies the waters of the Galapagos. Having embarked at Baltra and received a briefing from our National Park guide Camillo, we were soon cruising North for our first ground excursion to North Seymour. After the cool equatorial highlands, the humidity and sunshine of the Galapagos is a pleasant change. Cumulus clouds hover above the far horizon seemingly motionless. The waters change from cobalt to azure blue as we approach the shore and the low shrub cover island play host to courting magnificent frigate birds (Fregata magnificens) and blue foot

ed boobies. The cliffs are peppered with glorious swallow tailed gulls, easily distinguishable with their ring of intense red around the eye and bright red feet.

The grey rigid inflatable shuttles us from the Beagle to the promontory, where we are carefully deposited on the shore. The red ochre volcanic rock covers the entire island, a slab of laval flow, uplifted by tectonic movement tend of thousands of years ago. The island of North Seymour now plays host to abundant small, shrubby Palo Santo trees and sweet smelling Daphne. As we approach the end of the dry season the trees are still bare of leaves leaving on the ghostly white trunk and branches where the Frigates nest. The male Frigates tilt back their head and inf

late their blood red throat to the size of a melon, opening their beaks and displaying their plumage. In addition to the magnificent frigate we come across a few great frigates, klepto-parasitic birds that chase other birds and force them to drop their catch. As they soar in the sky the look like pterodactyls scanning the sky for their next prey.

As we cross the island, descending the slab to the beach on the north shore we pass the circular nesting sites of blue-footed boobies. Like the frigates, the boobies are courting; the males hopping from one leg to the other and extending back their legs whilst opening a wing. As the females respond they come together and touch their beaks lightly. Female boobies sit in a self-marked circles incubating their eggs, intermittently rising and falling to keep the eggs from overheati

ng in the late afternoon sun. The eggs rest atop their turquoise feet as the vibrate the feathers on their throat and open their beaks wide to regulate their body temperature.

As we approach the beach on the north side of the island the Palo Santo trees give way to blanket swathes of red sea Pursulane, a low growing succulent that thrives on the saline spray. As we approach the volcanic rock debris we can hear the barking of sealions, the last of our hosts on the island. Basking in the weak sunlight of the early evening they intermittently reach forward with their tail fins to scratch their fur.

Judging by our first experience of life touring these abundant islands, we will have a mesmerising week ahead.