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Postcard #19: From the Galapagos Islands
Our departure from Quito for the Galapagos Islands was delayed by the non-appearance of a Mr. Finch. I thought it must be a false name. There were other hitches in our journey — fog, diversion, and the usual pre-Christmas airport chaos — but none quite so apropos to the volcanic islands where Charles Darwin observed the thirteen varieties of that bird and began the thinking that led to the theory of evolution.
But now we’re here. We walked in Darwin’s footsteps this morning. We’ve snorkelled with sea lions. We are eating and drinking like kings. Life is easy. For people. A lot easier than it is for the cliff-diving marine iguanas, or the albatross that may only settle on land once in six months. Or the cactus finch. Or the valiant little yellow warbler that skitters around on the tidal rocks. I pause to think of the baby sea lions that have to wait four days for their mothers to get back from a fishing expedition to feed them. Then I take another hors d’oeuvre from the tray.
Speaking of finches, it is humbling to learn about the pressures of natural selection on these animals. Extremes of drought nearly wipe them out, and then higher than average rainfall puts their genes into overdrive. Sexual selection complicates the whole thing, as we all know. That they survive on their stripped-down, isolated rock is miraculous.
We stand on the fourth deck drinking pisco sours. A fellow passenger complains about a slight faltering of the internet while another comments on the news that has reached us of the death of the dictator in North Korea. We congratulate each other on seeing the turtles while snorkelling, and say how adorable the two little penguins that stood barking on the rocks were.
I love it all but am tired of anthropomorphizing these animals in the folksy way the well-meaning naturalists do: “When the blue-footed booby does his courtship dance,” they say, “he’s saying, ‘Look at me! Look how handsome I am!”’
I doubt it.
Generally the animals here ignore us, which is very sensible. They have made the most ingenious adaptations to their barren land, often cooperating for mutual benefit, like the lizards that eat the flies off the resting sea lions. But they aren’t adapting for us, we hope. People have to keep telling each other not to step on the iguanas. The night herons just squeeze their eyes shut while we walk on the rock two feet above their heads. You wonder how long they can hold out, with the frequent volleys of tourists shot from zodiacs onto these shores. I for one think it would be a shame if the Galapagos endemics started picking up our habits.
It is evening in the first month of 2012, a night like any other here, with Orion the hunter brilliant in a black sky and only the night-seeing gulls flying past amid the hiss of small waves against the hull. I send kind thoughts to you and all species.
If you would like to receive these postcards, please click on the following link to send Katherine an email.
Postcards from Katherine: author@govier.com