Galápagos.pdf

Galápagos Land of Boobies

The Galápagos are a volcanic archipelago of many islands (depending upon one’s definition of island) 500 to 600 miles in the Pacific off the coast of mainland Ecuador, of which they are a part. They were formed when the Nazca plate “drifted” east (with jogs north and south) over a volcanic hot spot. The islands in the eastern part are, thus, the oldest and their volcanoes extinct and eroded. Two islands in the westernmost part still have active volcanoes. (Hawaii and the Aleutians are also volcanic archipelagos but the plates drifted more in a straight line.) After a 4-1/2 hour flight (delayed) from Miami and an overnight in a surprisingly posh Hilton in Guayaquil, Ecuador on the mainland, we had a fairly short (1-3/4 hour) flight on Sunday to Puerto Baquerizo on the island of San Cristóbal, in the southeast of the group. We were met by one of the naturalists, Antonio Adrian, who took us by bus to the dock. We knew right away Antonio was a character with a great if somewhat dark sense of humor. At the dock we learned how to put on life vests and board a Zodiac, which took us to the National Geographic Islander, a 164-foot ship that held 48 passengers plus crew. There were, however, only 31 passengers on our trip (one fewer than the number of crew members!), which gave us all the chance for extra attention and to locate those we wanted to spend time with. (Yes, there turned out to be some we didn’t want to spend time with.) Jan almost immediately felt the rocking of the ship but managed to get through the “abandon ship and safety drill.” She skipped lunch but felt better for a briefing about the “rules” of the national park and the first excursion. We boarded a Zodiac (usually three Zodiacs went on each landing) for a short ride along the western side of the island to Cerro Brujo (“Wizard Hill”) and a “wet landing”—that is, the Zodiac goes as close to the beach as possible and then you hop out into the water and walk ashore. This was apparently a beach on which Darwin landed. Here we had our first encounter with the wildlife, which by and large is unfazed by humans even a few feet away. We walked past sea lions, marine iguanas, blue-footed boobies, a mockingbird (an important part of Darwin’s experience as I’ll explain), yellow warbler (the same species we have here), plovers, and pelicans. Our naturalist this time was Salvador Cazar, not as funny as Antonio but also so very knowledgeable about geology, biology, and history. Salvador become our favorite of the three (but they were all great).

Back in the Zodiacs before sunset (which on the equator occurs around 6:00 pm all year; this seemed strange to us, used to late sunsets in warm weather) and the first of our wonderful dinners. The food was delicious and varied, and the service impeccable. Our cabin was on the top deck of cabins (there was a “sky deck” above us) and we had a glassed-in terrace. We were a bit disappointed that we couldn’t open the glass but it made sense: They didn’t want anyone getting up in the middle of the night and turning the wrong way only to go overboard! Being high-up meant a little more rocking and the first night—the ship sailed from island to island overnight—was very rough, with not only rocking and swaying but creaking and groaning of the ship itself. We didn’t sleep well. (Eventually, we got used to sleeping and walking with the rolling and I even miss it lying in bed. Very soothing, I found. And, two days back home, we still feel it and still walk a bit as if compensating for it!) Monday was the southernmost island of Española where we had our first snorkeling experience. The water was a bit rough and neither of us had snorkeled in years, but we lasted 40 minutes and saw some lovely fish and swimming sea lions. Back to the ship and a lunch of Ecuadorian food, followed by a hike, a dry landing this time, at Punta Suarez. This was a rough hike, with lots of boulders, but worth it as, up on the cliff we saw sea lions, marine iguanas, lava lizards, waved albatrosses (so called because the chest feathers are a wave pattern), Galápagos hawks (one with a chick), Galápagos doves, blue-footed and Nazca boobies, swallow-tailed gulls, storm petrels, frigate birds, plovers (same species as here), red-billed tropic birds (with their long narrow tails), Galápagos flycatchers, Española mockingbirds, and assorted Darwin’s finches. Antonio was our guide here and here his sense of humor really came out: The park officially closes at 6:00 and the sun was going down as we were heading back to the beach and Zodiacs. “The sun waits for no one,” he said, in his Ecuadorian accent, “and when it gets dark, we all die, except the guide.” Death was his theme, but in a dark-humor sort of way. Before dinner each night was a briefing on some aspect of the trip, the Galápagos, or the National Geographic/Lindblad partnership, and a preview of the next day’s activities. There was also a two-sided schedule and description in our cabins when we returned after dinner or after some after-dinner talk. Tuesday we awoke off the island of Floreana (or Santa María) and did a pre-breakfast walk at Punta Cormorant (named for a ship that wrecked there, not the bird). Added to critters seen: flamingoes, white-cheeked pintails (in a small lake), ani (introduced bird), more Darwin’s finches, pelicans, and, on the beach beyond the dry forest, a stingray in the surf and the colorful sally lightfoot crabs. After breakfast we took a Zodiac ride, with Antonio, around small Champion Island, one of two small islets off Floreana that are the only home to the “critically endangered” (an official category) Floreana mockingbird. Populations fluctuate widely but there are generally no more than 150 total, making them one of the rarest birds in the world. Some boat rides see none. We saw two, a definite privilege. Jan got some good photos. There

are attempts to increase the populations (in part by eradicating an introduced pest, fire ants) but climatic conditions can play a big role, especially with such a small population. We skipped the pre-lunch snorkeling but after lunch did our first kayaking. Rough waters made it fun and our double kayak was very stable. A sea lion swam right up to the single kayak of one of our shipmates. Back in the Zodiac and a wet landing at Post Office Bay, another place Darwin is said to have landed. The name derives from a barrel left there first in the late 18th century for whalers and others to leave letters home. People would go through the letters and if there was one they could deliver somewhere, they’d take it. Then they’d leave their own. The tradition continues (not with the original barrel) and one of the first postcards our group found (now in plastic bags) was from Farmington, Connecticut, about 15 minutes from us. We plan to hand-deliver it to the address soon. We left three postcards, one to ourselves. Wednesday we were anchored off Santa Cruz, second largest island and economic hub of the Galápagos. About 18,000 people live there, mostly in the town of Puerto Ayora. We had a nice landing on the dock then took a bus to the Charles Darwin Research Station. An important activity there is the breeding of the famous Galápagos giant tortoises, so some can be reintroduced and try to restore the ecology of some of the islands. We then walked back into town, past high-end shops as well as souvenir places. The fish market was particularly interesting—a table full of fresh fish, some women filleting them, others with fly swatters swatting at the flies. Under and around the tables pelicans and sea lions begged for a morsel. We took a bus then into the green and sometimes rainy highlands, first to an artisanal sugar and coffee plantation. We saw the old method of extracting juice from sugar cane—a press powered by two people turning a long log. We got to taste a clump of raw sugar you ate along with a couple of roasted coffee beans. Delicious. Then a long tub of bubbling, fermenting cane juice and the ancient, crude still that turned it into moonshine. We got samples. Our guide, Jonathan Aguas this time, said it was called agua fuego, “firewater.” I don’t know if it really was called that but it sure was, although I liked it, kind of a high-proof rum, distilled directly from the cane juice. I finished Jan’s for her. In the roof of the open building we saw a barn owl, same species as here. Lunch at a restaurant in the highlands, overlooking a lush forest. The name of the place was “The Narwhal.” I have no idea why since narwhals live in the Arctic. And then to farm that is on the tortoises’ migratory route. We were issued Wellies because of the possibly wet, even muddy ground and got to the tortoises via a lava tunnel, about a quarter-mile long (but well lit with bulbs). These are formed when surface lava solidifies but molten lava still flows underneath. Back on the surface we found many tortoises. They are slow, lumbering, and so very prehistoric looking which makes you feel as if you’ve gone back in time. It was a farm, with some mown grass in places, but this is as close as we could come to those reptiles in the “wild.”

And, sadly, here’s where the one sour note (but, for us, an amusing one) came in: a handful of the other people who failed to pay attention to what the naturalists and expedition leader said, for instance, about not touching the wildlife. One lady asked if she could touch the tortoise’s shell. No, said Jonathan, we said it was against the rules. So she had her photo taken as if she were about to touch it. Others, throughout, asked the same questions over and over, or just plain stupid questions. The three naturalists were saints to deal with it as gently as they did. (I would make a terrible naturalist leading trips like this!) On the bus ride back to town I noted the, to me, relative squalor and poverty many of the people seemed to live in, but I don’t think they would think of it in that way. It certainly wasn’t the abject poverty we’d seen in other places. After another wonderful dinner back on the ship, we were entertained by a local musical and dance group who played some South American traditional pieces with some traditional dances. They were quite talented. We bought two of their CDs. Thursday began with a dry landing on South Plaza Island, off the coast of Santa Cruz Island, again with Jonathan. Here we added a lava heron and a cactus finch to our life list. This island, though volcanic, had been uplifted from the bottom of the sea by tectonic action, so had some sedimentary rock and even old barnacle shells. Before lunch Jonathan talked about the human history of the Galápagos. Way too much to go into but there are stories of a dentist settler and his wife who pulled all their teeth before coming so as not to get infections, the neighbors who supposedly murdered the dentist by sending him poisoned chicken soup, a handicapped boy possibly drowned by his stepmother. (See the documentary “The Galápagos Affair: Satan Came to Eden” for details.) After lunch, snorkeling off Santa Fé Island. I took some photos with an underwater camera our friend Bob Weinberger had lent us, but, sadly, I think age and out-of-shapeness caught up with me. Possibly exerting too much effort I suddenly got a stomach cramp, whether digestive or muscular I can’t say, but I knew I shouldn’t try to continue. So I signaled the Zodiac to pick me up. Jan joined me. Too bad, because the others saw sea turtles, sharks, and rays. Some new friends, a couple from Australia, Ali and Mark, were kind enough to share with us the photos of those Ali had taken, and Jan got some good photos of turtles and rays just shooting above the water. Friday found us off Santiago Island and a morning Zodiac cruise around Sombrero Chino (Chinese Hat) where we added to our list the brown noddy (a shore bird), American oyster catcher, yellow-crowned night heron (the latter two the same as here), and the surprising Galápagos penquin, a species descended from some Humboldt penguins from the Antarctic that came on the famous Humboldt Current. This is the only penguin at, or even close to, the equator.

After our return, the Islander sailed past Bainbridge Island, an ancient caldera with a brackish lake in the middle. . .and flamingos. After lunch Salvador gave a talk on Darwin in the Galápagos. Of course, I listened carefully, gunning for mistakes, but there were none. All three naturalists, in fact, knew what they were talking about in all areas they covered. There were a few discrepancies in agreement on some details that we noted, but these tended to be things, such as how many species of Darwin’s finches are recognized, that are legitimately debatable points. In the late afternoon, when the sun was low, we landed at Sullivan Bay on Santiago for a walk on the lava fields. It was the most forbidding, barren landscape we had seen, nothing but black hardened lava, with some mounds of volcanic ash. The black lava was laid down in an eruption about 100 years ago. The mounds of ash were from previous eruptions. The black lava made patterns depending upon how it was moving when it hardened, how thick it was, and how quickly it cooled. There were twisted ropes, globs of molten rock frozen in time, patterns that looked like faces and other images one could make out. The areas of volcanic ash, around which the recent lava flowed, could be mistaken for Mars-scapes. Walking was hard, although Antonio did it barefoot. We had a buffet BBQ dinner on the sky deck, the highlight of which was looking down and seeing the lit-up water around the ship full of Galápagos sharks. Small fish are attracted to the ship’s lights, which in turn attract the sharks. Some of these were 6 feet long (but the species can reach 9 feet). Saturday was our last full day and we spent it off Genovesa, way to the north. It is a small island, an ancient volcano eroded flat on top with much of the southern end a bay, Darwin Bay, in the caldera, about a mile by a mile-and-a-half. We began at 6:30 am with a kayak trip in the caldera, where we saw Galápagos fur seals (really sea lions) and the red-footed booby. (The blue-footed booby doesn’t have blue pigment. The skin on its feet is bubbly so the blue is a result of light refraction. (Same is true of our blue jays. They’re not really blue; it’s the light.) The Nazca booby had gray feet, the “natural” color. The red-footed booby, which avoids competition with the others by feeding way out to sea, gets the red feet from pigments in something it eats but that source is still unknown. Similarly, flamingos are pink because of a pigment in the shells of the shrimp that make up the bulk of their diet.) On the Zodiac ride back a red-footed booby, curious we suppose, landed on the boat and then hopped/flew onto several peoples’ heads, including Jan’s! (There was no fouling of Jan’s hat.) After a well-earned breakfast, we landed on the beach in Darwin Bay with Salvador. The island is really a huge seabird colony and we added to our list ruddy turnstones, great frigatebirds (we had so far seen magnificent frigate birds, and Salvador told us how to tell them apart), and the sharp-beaked finch, sometimes called the “vampire” finch because besides eating seeds it will pull feathers out of seabird chicks to make them bleed and drink the blood. We walked along an inlet where sea lions were lounging in the water, on their backs, with their flippers crossed over their chests. What a life! One young one decided to chase a stingray. They are very playful.

After lunch, the last walk, up Prince Philip’s Steps (named after said prince), from the caldera to the top of the island. Thousands of Nazca boobies, many with fluffy chicks, and, finally, a short-eared owl that preys mainly on nesting petrels. The owls are more abundant on this island because the other main predator, the Galápagos hawk, doesn’t live here. Sunday we took Zodiacs to the island of Baltra. It has a commercial airport and a military base, descended, I guess, from the base the US set up during WWII after bombing it flat. But we tried to ignore all that. A flight back to the Hilton in Guayaquil, a nice BBQ meal a short walk from the hotel, and the shock of learning that they don’t sell booze after 2:00 on Sunday. Bed at 7:00 because we had to get up at 3:00 to get our flight to Miami. The rest went smoothly. A note on Darwin and the wildlife: The popular story is that Darwin, who spent five weeks in the islands in 1835, but only 19 days on land, saw things, had a moment of revelation, and came up with his theory of evolution by natural selection. Darwin’s finches are usually proposed as the catalyst for this. Not so. There are 13 or 14 species of Darwin’s finches (depending on one’s definition of species) and they are hard to tell apart. (The term Darwin’s finches, by the way, was only coined in 1947.) The biggest difference is the shape and size of the beak. Our naturalists could tell them apart but only after a close look and not too long ago someone wrote that the only people who could tell them apart were “God and Peter Grant.” (Grant is probably the major authority on this group of birds, all endemic (that is, limited) to the Galápagos.) Darwin didn’t even see they were finches and didn’t see the differences in beaks and was mislead because there are more than one species of finch on each island. As a result, he simply collected a bunch from the four islands he visited and took them home to England without labeling them as to island. There, ornithologist and painter John Gould (kind of the Audubon of England), told Darwin they were all finches and that their different beaks were indications of different food source adaptations. Darwin probably did a head-slap. Fortunately, some crew members on the Beagle as well as Darwin’s servant, Sims Covington (yes, Charles had a servant on board), did note which island the specimens came from, so Darwin was able to reconstruct the provenance of them all. Still, oddly, he never really understood what he had. He never mentioned the finches at all in Origin of Species. We now know the finches constitute one of the best examples of Darwin’s model. Thirteen (or fourteen) species have all descended from an estimated 30 original individuals who, from a species on the coast of South America, were probably caught in wind currents and carried to the islands, where they gradually differentiated and adapted based on location and food source. Same with the tortoises. Darwin was told by the governor of the islands that he could tell which island a tortoise came from by looking at its shell. Indeed, there are very obvious differences. Darwin didn’t pay attention and, in fact, didn’t collect specimens. The shells of the tortoises that were taken on board the Beagle for food were tossed overboard.

Darwin focused on the mockingbirds. There is only one species of the four on each island and they can be identified. This hinted to Darwin that perhaps they had diversified from a common ancestor adapting to different conditions on the different islands. So it wasn’t until Darwin returned to England in 1836 that he really began putting all his observations together to gradually and carefully develop his theory of evolution by natural selection. A final note, about the future of the Galápagos. There are great efforts to restore as much of the ecosystem as possible to its pre-human conditions. Humans had brought in goats, donkeys, dogs, cats, rats, and fire ants, and these had obvious negative effects on the natural wildlife. Most of these have been eradicated and, as noted with the tortoises, there are breeding programs with some of the natural species. But climatic effects occur as well, one of the most influential being El Niño, periods, every three to five years, of abnormally high ocean temperatures, heavy rains, and interruptions of nutrient-rich cold currents. The Galápagos ecosystem is especially vulnerable to such episodes, which can last a few months to two years. With fewer nutrients in the waters there are fewer food sources for the marine iguanas and sea birds. Sometimes populations plummet. The heavy rains change the vegetation. There might, thus, be more food in the highlands for the tortoises but they can also get mired in the resultant mud and suffer population loss as well. There is a fear that the current trend of global warming will make El Niño episodes more frequent and stronger. This could have devastating effects on the Galápagos. Our advice? Go there soon. It’s an experience you won’t forget. And we highly recommend National Geographic/Lindblad tours. Super-organized, friendly, and knowledgeable. Jan and Michael