Galapafantabugos

"In the struggle for survival, the fittest win out at the expense of their rivals because they succeed in adapting themselves best to their environment."
Charles Darwin

Nowhere in the world is this brought home more clearly than in the Galapagos - a string of volcanic islands which literally rose up out of the sea as their tectonic plate mooched slowly over a hot spot in the ocean floor. Some of the islands are still growing - reshaping with each new eruption. Others are in the last throws of life, sinking slowly back into the Pacific. Every example of indigenous flora and fauna either floated or flew to the islands - tortoises carried on their backs from the mainland, penguins and seals getting lost somewhere and finding themselves in an equatorial paradise. On each and every island the species have evolved differently - the finches on Santa Cruz have different shaped beaks to the ones on Isabela, on some islands the giant tortoises have shells shaped for pushing through the undergrowth, on others they have an arched shell and longer necks to help them reach up to hanging vegetation.

The animals you see there today are there because they were flexible and inventive enough to adapt to the inhospitable environment. Perhaps the most impressive example is the land iguana that learned to swim and took to the waves in search of lunch when he couldn’t find anything tasty among the lava. His ancestors are still braving the pounding surf.

In this slightly surreal world where you almost expect your passport to be stamped by a pelican and for seals to be driving taxis, the wildlife is smack in your face before you’ve finished your airport transfer to the harbour. Pelicans and frigate birds circle overhead as you head towards the dock, blue-footed boobies whistle at you as you step off the bus and on the way to your dinghy you have to step over seals lounging on the gang planks.

We had booked ourselves on to a pretty swanky 14 berth catamaran called the Nemo II and it was worth every penny. The crew and guide were excellent and absolutely lovely. Our fellow passengers were also great – a fantastic Canadian family of four travelling the world for a year with two lovely kids of 10 and 12, a Russian-American family and their bubbly friend and a Viennese opera director. We were all leveled at about the age of twelve and a half in the face of the hopping, splashing and leaping wildlife about us.

The Galapagos is a tough proposition when you’re on a tight budget as one week there is the equivalent of 5-6 weeks travelling on the continent. But, this was yet another opportunity to put my friend Cheryl’s favourite saying into practice ‘Long after the price tag fades, the memories remain’ (I’m misquoting, but you get the picture). I can’t disagree - we will never forget our ten days on these mesmerising islands.

It’s almost spooky how completely unexcited the animals are by your flat-footed or splashing presence. Not for the Galapagos is the experience of stumbling across a flock of rare birds only to step on a twig and flutter them into oblivion before you’ve taken off your lens cap. When the Bishop of Panama washed up on the Galapagos after taking a wrong turn somewhere near the Columbian coast in the 1500’s he wrote, in a letter to the King of Spain, that the birds were ‘so silly that they didn’t know how to flee and many were caught by hand’. Legions of rich middle-aged Americans in high-waisted khaki walking pants and factor 480 suncream has done little to change the animals’ behaviour. Thank goodness.

I am lost for words with how to bring the beauty of the islands to life, so let me just sum it up in 20,000 words. I’m kidding, please keep reading.

Galapagos is all about the fauna, every minute of every day was spent watching seals, twitching in the bushes or tripping over heavily-camouflaged marine iguanas lounging on the lava. There were a few stars of the show.

White tipped reef sharks. Your guide has told you that they’re friendly, but that does nothing to quell the fear as that slithering, eerie shadow of a shark passes beneath you in the dark water. When you realise there are four of them and you’re surrounded, the pulse rises a bit more. But they largely ignored us and went about the important business of devouring fish.

Blue-footed boobies. Thankfully our fellow passengers were far too cool to be irritated by the fact that every time I saw a boobie I just had to shout “BOOBIES” at the top of my lungs in a silly voice. These birds are very cool. They have blue feet. They attract females by lifting their feet and whistling. They nest in open ground and lay their eggs on lava. Plus they are called boobies. What’s not to love about them?

Marine iguanas. They look like miniature black dinosaurs as they lounge about, draped over each other in an orgy of scaly skin on the roasting hot lava rocks. When they fancy a bit of tasty, crunchy algae they take a deep breath and dive deep before resurfacing to spend the rest of the afternoon snorting salt out of their noses.

Frigate birds. I’ve never really got hot under the collar over men with enormous goiters, but that’s what gets female hearts a-fluttering on planet frigate. “Oh check out that guy over there Mavis, he’s got the biggest and reddest goiter I’ve ever seen, I think I’ll go and nestle my head into it like a big squishy pillow”. Love takes many forms.

Pelicans. Yes, yes, I know you can see them all over the world but they seem to fly and swim closer on the Galapagos. Plus they actually can talk. (Oh, actually, that might have been part of a dream I had the other night- see below.)

Giant tortoises. They floated a long way to get here which is pretty impressive even before you take into account their enormous size, their fragrantly audible mating grunts and the fact they live to be 150 years old. It was rather odd looking at the teeny tiny little baby giant tortoises in the breeding farm and thinking “I’ll be pushing up the daisies when you’re still in the throws of middle age”. We met Lonesone George, the only surviving tortoise of his kind. Match.com is, as I type, scouring the earth for a Mrs Lonesome who may have been smuggled off the island way back when in someone’s handbag and sold to a petting zoo in Western-Super-Mare. Apparently however, even this may not work as George may have problems down there. A very competent Swiss lady with industrial strength rubber gloves and years of experience extracting sperm (now that’s a resume I’d like to read) couldn’t even fill a thimble with Lonesome’s seed. Poor sod.

The sea lions. I have fallen head-over-heels with sea lions. They might have slightly fishy breath, a tendency to poo in the bath and the burping habits of a student rugby player, but god they’re lovely. Our first few experiences of seals were in slightly murky water where a dark and streamlined shape scared the bubbles out of us as we snorkelled by. “Oh my God. It’s a shark!” I spluttered to our captain as the dark shape passed beneath me. “ Don’t worry Sarah. That’s just a seal. That’s a shark over there.”

But then came a day when Mike and I hung back at the edge of a small bay as the rest of the group moved on. The water cleared and three medium sized sea lions swam up to take a look at these strange neon-clad monster fish. We stared back, they stared back. They did back flips, we did back flips. We dived down deep, they dived down deep and tumbled in the water, eyeing us under water to see what would come next. Mike and I splashed and rolled in the water as the three happy seals darted around us. Eventually we swam around the corner and joined up with Charles, a fellow passenger, and the three of us were joined by three pups, even more playful than the last crew. They were playing ball with some chunks of cactus and span and darted around us at a ferocious speed.

I was so astounded by what happened that when I got back on the boat for lunch I couldn’t say a word for over an hour. That doesn’t happen very often.

That was the first of many amazing encounters with our slightly furry friends and I left the islands today feeling sad that I will no longer be able to frolic in the water with them. The last two nights I actually dreamed I was a seal and woke up very disappointed to find myself in bed with legs.

The Galapagos really is another world - supremely remote, untouched, captivating and magical. The animals are undoubtedly what draws the tourists, but the islands themselves are a spectacle. Barren lava landscapes, white sandy beaches, gently sloping volcanic cones, cacti. Each island has its own character and ecosystem distinctly different from its neighbour.

I really could wax lyrical about the Galapagos for many tortoise lifetimes but rather than hear it from me, start a piggy bank, save those pennies and one day make the trip of a lifetime to surf with seals, trip over iguanas and dance with boobies.

Check out some photos of the Galapagos here