A Galapagos Blog

A Galapagos Blog

When Darwin arrived in the Galapagos Islands the Beagle first anchored in a small bay. Known as Tijeritas, this cove forms a semicircle perhaps 150 yards in diameter, and is still wild and somewhat isolated from the tourists and natives. Getting to the bay we walk along a dusty lava gravel road that leaves Puerto Bacquerizo Morena to wind west along the ocean for perhaps a mile out of town. We pass a popular swimming beach where volley ball nets are set up and kids and dogs run in and out of the ocean. A sign says: (conservatomos la neuestro) which might mean to someone who understood Spanish that we conserve what is ours? On the side of the road away from the sea is an outpost of the Ecuadorian University of San Francisco. (more detail of what this is later) There are glimpses of the sea through the trees that tightly line the shore; lava lizards scuttle out of our path, and some of those small black famous finches peck at seeds in the gravel and sand.

When the road comes to an end, there is a path that strikes out across a landscape of tangled scrub and cactus that rise up out of black jagged slabs of congealed lava. It doesn’t look like a very promising place to put down roots, and the short twisted trees are scattered. The trail climbs and descends, twists and turns, until after about 20 minutes we come to an over-look that reveals the bay. The water is green-blue, and there is a fishing boat exiting out to sea. I have heard that there is a margin of 40 miles surrounding the islands where fishing is prohibited, and wonder what he is up to.
My attention is drawn to some sleek birds that are a about sea gull size, but streamlined with a long pointed bill. They are sleek and built for speed. Several circle about 50 feet above the water. One suddenly tilts over, and folding back its wings, forms itself into a sharp nosed torpedo as it drops straight down. It meets the water with very little splash, disappearing with barely a sound. The others follow and I hear five successive plops as they disappear beneath the surface. When they surface, they paddle along for a moment before taking off. I am too far away to see if they have successfully caught fish, but do catch a glimpse of their remarkable bright blue feet as they rise from the water. These are blue-foot boobies. Somewhere on this island, there is a colony of the red-footed boobies. The evolutionary importance of coloured feet doesn’t immediately spring to mind and I am puzzling over this as we climb carefully down some steep steps to a flat expanse of lava where we will put on our wetsuits and snorkeling gear.
So this is where Darwin landed in 1835. There was no path across the lava then and I wonder what he was wearing. Did his shoes have wooden soles as I think sailors did in those days? What about sunburn? The land would have been gently rising and falling the way it does for a day or two after one has come ashore from weeks on a sailing boat. Did he stumble near the sharp lava rocks and the prickly cactus? The air is mercifully free of biting insects now as then.

Unlike Darwin, we arrived by jet aircraft and touched down yesterday noon after the 600 mile, one and a half hour flight from Guayaquil, a largely unattractive commercial centre on the mainland of Ecuador. Just before landing the flight attendant opened all the over-head baggage compartments and walked the length of the aircraft spraying something into the interior. He was followed by a colleague who banged each door down to seal in the spray. The seal was only somewhat effective and I could see passengers wrinkling their noses at the insecticide.

There have already been many unwanted recent visitors to these islands. Opportunistic pioneers, they have set up shop and now contaminate the environment. Chief among them would be Homo sapiens, who brought with him what have become feral dogs, goats, donkeys, pigs, cats, rats and fire ants. These are the most obvious invasive species, but there are many others. It could be argued that all the creatures on these islands arose from invasive ancestors, and it would be true, but the unique aspect of the flora and fauna that met Darwin was the fact that they were different from the original invaders.

In a certain Guayaquil park there is the expected statue of the liberating hero, Simon Bolivar. He looks out over a green city block that is nestled amongst the grey concrete of hotels and office buildings. What isn’t expected is that this park is littered with iguanas. Young and old, they wander along the paths between the flower beds, pausing to bob their heads in a territorial display that has little impact on the tourists and locals who pick their way among the lizards. Some are quite large, measuring four or more feet from nose to tail. They approach tourists seated on park benches to receive and reject a potato chip, a candy wrapper or the bottom inch of an ice cream cone. A few blocks away is the Malacon, a wide boardwalk that runs along the margin of the (Guayaquil River). This is where MacDonalds have their restaurant, where the IMAX is located, and where uniformed school children walk in crocodiles hand in hand. I didn’t see that other invasive species called Starbucks, but it will have been there. The river rushes by quickly, carrying quite large flotillas of greenery from upstream. Theory has it that some iguanas and all the other original invaders that didn’t fly or swim to the Galapagos Islands, journeyed on these rafts of vegetation. 600 miles without a drink of fresh water must have been a trial to say the least. On arrival they would have had to make do with whatever rainwater accumulated in puddles. These were lucky and hardy pioneers.

Darwin observed that two types of iguana live on the islands. Neither exactly resembles the species found on the mainland. One has become marine, with a flattened tail. When it sinuously lashes it from side to side the iguana is propelled through the water as a fish is by its tail. Land iguanas have a tail that is round in section, serving to provide the animal with balance as it climbs through the branches of trees. The marine iguana is able to drink sea water, snorting out nose clearing spouts of concentrated brine at intervals as they lie in the sun warming up after a dive. Their seemingly grinning faces are now flat, making the grazing on short rock hugging seaweed easier. In contrast, the Galapagos land iguanas have a more pointed head and are able to insert their snout between sharp spines to get at the flesh of the cactus they eat.

Suited up we slip into the sea to explore an aspect of the Galapagos entirely unknown to Darwin. He never saw the treasure trove beneath the waves. This water has arrived via the Humbolt current that comes up the coast of Chile and Peru. It meets the equator to veer west in the direction of Australia, passing by the Galapagos Islands on the way. Coming from Antarctica it is colder than you would expect and this explains the presence of penguins on these islands at the equator.

So the plants and animals of the islands have altered since the early invasions that took place sometime after the islands emerged from the sea volcanically a few million years ago. These endemic species are what made the islands unique for Darwin. They helped to focus his ideas surrounding natural selection and the origin of species. The flight attendant with the aerosol can of insecticide had the right idea, albeit a little late in the day. I am reminded of a New Yorker cartoon that shows an old woman, a suitcase in each hand, standing on a station platform. She is watching a train leave the station. She is clearly out of breath and has been running for the train. “Oh well,” she says, “Better late than never.”