Following in Darwin's footsteps in the Galapagos
Soaring at 36,000ft above the Atlantic on Continental flight CO5, flicking through the selection of 150 movies, hundreds of CDs and tucking into a warming dish of spicy chicken and rice, I thought of Darwin. Poor old thing.
Soaring at 36,000ft above the Atlantic on Continental flight CO5, flicking through the selection of 150 movies, hundreds of CDs and tucking into a warming dish of spicy chicken and rice, I thought of Darwin. Poor old thing.
He may have contributed more to science and our understanding of the natural world than any other human being. He may have given us theories of evolution, speciation and natural selection. He may well be the most important thinker of the past 250 years. But Darwin's journey to the Galapagos took four years – via South America – he travelled on a ship that gave him almost intolerable bouts of seasickness and his lunch was often tortoise with boiled vegetables. How he would have loved the luxury, convenience and efficiency of Continental's daily shuttle between the UK and Ecuador.
My trip continued beyond Ecuador's mainland to the Galapagos, the archipelago of volcanic islands distributed around the equator. They were the islands that inspired Darwin's Theory of Evolution, after the great scientist noticed subtle differences between similar species that inhabited neighbouring islands.
Today, evidence of his theories is all around. Take the case of the marine iguana, an ugly, prehistoric-looking creature that sits on rocky shorelines across the Galapagos. On islands where food is abundant, the cold-blooded iguana grows to a fearsome size. On islands where food is scarce, their size is considerably diminished. The iguana is the only ocean-going variety in the world – it was forced to swim for food because on some islands its favoured algae is only available beneath the waves.
The case of the giant tortoise is similar. Some species have long necks, so that they can reach up and eat leaves that hang from shrubs and trees. Those that live in areas where there is a plentiful supply of grass have short, stubby necks, so that they can graze, like cattle or sheep. Sizes, armour types and body types are all different, according to local conditions. The wisdom of Darwin's theories are thus made real. Different species adapt to local conditions.
I'd joined a week-long naturalist excursion aboard the M/V Evolution, a 1920s yacht that cruised through the calm waters of the Galapagos, shuttling back and forth across the equator.
It was a delightful vessel, with gourmet food served three times a day, large state rooms, numerous social areas and a lecture theatre where our guide, Rafael Pesantes, gave evening talks about the wonders we had seen.
The Evolution team organised a packed itinerary, so that we spent our days either hiking, nature-watching, snorkelling, riding inflatable ribs or finding other environmentally-responsible ways to observe the abundant wildlife. By night, we settled into our delightful cabins as the captain crossed the Pacific Ocean to bring us to a new island in time for breakfast.
The wildlife was exquisite. While snorkelling, I spotted a 6ft long shark – our group swam with hammerheads, white tip and black tip varieties – and decided to follow it. It didn't mind.
On another occasion, I swam with a small pod of turtles, hovering above the majestic creatures as they plunged through cold, Peruvian currents that bring chilled water towards the equator. And on other days penguins gambolled past gaily-coloured fish as giant rays flapped their wings to glide across the seabed.
Hundreds of Galapagos sea lions proved an endless source of amusement. Young pups, left alone while their parents swam for food, played at our feet, tossing bricks into the air and trying to catch them. The inquisitive creatures had a relaxed curiosity as we walked past. Like all creatures on the Galapagos, they exhibited no fear of man. If we wanted to pass them, we had to walk around them, they wouldn't move from wherever they had hunkered down.
So it was with the birds, which nested on open trails, feeding their chicks within inches of our boots. If we got too close, they'd look at us like East End gangsters, shooting a disapproving glance, but rarely squawking any discontent.
While the marine, animal and birdlife was genuinely incredible; the geology was similarly striking. We walked across lava fields, where ribbons of twisted black rock had set as molten lava cooled.
Gradually, such sites had been invaded by lava cactus before other plants had colonised sites, created soil and given rise to rich vegetation. Animals and birds had followed. The island of Fernandina was one of the most spectacular. It was home to mangrove forests, penguins, pelicans, sea lions, owls, flightless cormorants and numerous different types of lava flow.
The much-older island of Espanola was in stark contrast. It was lusher and had a larger number of endemic species, due to its remote location. Giant tortoises roamed while albatrosses danced a salsa-like shuffle while searching for a mate.
As my Continental flight whizzed me back from Ecuador, I relaxed in happy dreams of Galapagos. The islands made famous by Shrewsbury's great scientist, Darwin, remain a magnet for nature lovers from across the world. There is nowhere on earth where land, sea and nature combine with such thrilling and dizzying effect.
