Travels to the Galápagos

Travels to the Galápagos

Friday, February 15, 2002

Bartolome/Santiago

Our Last Full Day in the Galápagos

My wife and I arose before dawn to see the Southern Cross. We are anchored off Bartolome. Sea lions are playing in the water off the bow. A navigation light, powered by solar panels, blinks from time to time from the top of Bartolome.

All of us but my son (who slept in) took an early morning panga ride to Bartolome, and ascended its 374 foot (115 m) summit. Bartolome lies in the rain shadow of Santiago, and receives very little precipitation. Two protesting sea lions were nudged off the concrete landing pier, and there were some sea birds on the shore. Otherwise, the only other animal we saw on this hike was a single Lava Lizards near the summit. Vegetation was very sparse, mostly scattered tequilia and the odd lava cactus, both of which are pioneer species. There was one other type of low plant, and a few small clumps of low grass.

Part of the path to the summit was through volcanic ash, but the Park Service has installed wooden steps with hand rails on the steeper parts to reduce erosion from foot traffic. About halfway up, my wife's water bottle slipped out of her pack, and rolled 50 feet (15 m) down the ash slope, out of reach from the handrails of the path. Our guide Carmen left the steps to retrieve it. Both the bottle and Carmen left tracks in the otherwise featureless ash slope. I wonder how long it will be until wind and rain obliterate those tracks. Aside from the hand rails and steps, and its much smaller size, ascending this cone cannot be too different from climbing Mt. Orodruin. Some people compared it to a moonscape, but I think it was more like Mars due to the reddish hue imparted by oxidized iron. The ash slope with a few small red rocks was eerily similar to pictures radioed back by the Viking and Pathfinder landers from the surface of Mars.

Several relatively small lava tubes were easily visible, some partly eroded to reveal either a hole leading to the interior, and some with the entire top surface removed to leave an open channel. About eight spatter cones flanked the sides of the peak, most of which were partly eroded. From the peak was one of the most famous, most photographed views in the Galápagos. The most prominent feature was the pointed, triangular Pinnacle Rock, which is also a part of Bartolome. Pinnacle is part of an eroded tuff cone, a separated, more conventionally circular part of which also remains.

Farther off were the Daphnes (Major and Minor), Pinzon, Rabida, and the Chinese Hat. Carmen said that on a clear day Genovese is visible.

But by far the majority of what land we could see lay on Santiago. In the foreground was a large, dark lava field, only about 100 years old, going down to Sullivan Bay. The Bay is named for one of the Beagle's officers [add detail]. This lava is more recent than the Beagle's visit. There were perhaps four or five brown to reddish-brown tuff cones on the near shore of Santiago, and no telling how many further off on the island. One of the nearer tuff cones had a reddish-black spill of an intermediate-aged lava flow puncturing its side, and going down to the sea. (Much smaller than the 100-year-old lava field.) A few scrubby plants dotted the sides of the nearer tuff cones, and green mangroves grew on a small sandy beach. The white sand in this area is primarily inorganic -- volcanic ash. The main cone of Santiago, with its pale green highlands could be seen, but not with sharp definition due to haze. (Visibility improved later in the morning as the haze burned off.) My daughter tried to count the number of steps on the way down, but lost track somewhere in the 200's.

Later in the morning we went to a brown beach on an isthmus connecting the peak of Bartolome to Pinnacle Rock. There was little to see snorkeling over sand near the shore, but more sea life became visible as we headed over submerged rocks in the vicinity of Pinnacle Rock -- similar to the creatures we had seen on earlier snorkeling trips this week, such as parrotfish. There was an interesting long, shiny fish with a funnel-shaped mouth called a trumpetfish. I saw a penguin swimming while we were on the panga, and two others on a rock. Others had seen a penguin feeding in the water. A couple of sea lions visited other snorklers. Our son took a glass bottom boat ride this morning. He claims the viewing was better than that while snorkeling; he saw sharks, rays, . . .

The isthmus has mangroves and surprisingly large sand dunes. Sea turtle nests and tracks were visible on both sides of the isthmus. Unlike the brown sand on the north, the sand on the south side of the isthmus was white. Off the south side, blue-footed boobies plunge-dived for fish. Mosquitoes were reported by some swimming/walking at Bartolome, in the mangroves. I didn't see any; although I did brush off a few flies before they bit me. One fly bit my wife, though. We saw a black finch in mangroves on the Bartolome isthmus -- perhaps a Mangrove Finch?

In the early afternoon we sailed around the north side of Santiago, east-to-west. Spatter cones were visible everywhere. At first, there was a sort of barren brown ridge near the shore, and another slope that rose behind the ridge to rise towards the central cone. After a time, the ridge was left behind, and (for the most part) a single slope rose from the shore to the summit, more-or-less. Either way, the slope to the summit was a pale green, as if it has received some rain recently, but not an excessive amount. I can't tell from the ship what the greenery is, but it appears to be mostly some sort of low-growing brush.

We rounded a point on the northwest side of Santiago at Buccaneer Cove, site of various piratical deeds, and of Darwin's landing on Santiago in 1835. Frigates were in the air over Buccaneer Cove, appropriately enough.

Pigs are unofficially eradicated on Santiago, and goats should be next. The elimination of these two species should help the ecosystem immensely.

We also spotted Albany Island, a small islet just northeast of Santiago where Darwin and company reboarded the Beagle. Isabela lay in silhouette on the horizon. Some of the larger features were visible on Volcans Wolf, Darwin, and Alcedo.

It is partly cloudy and hot. There are clouds near Santiago, Wolf, and Alcedo; and shrouding Volcan Darwin.

Pirates originally left the goats here. A fenced perimeter on the east side of Buccaneer Cove allows cactus to grow, free from goat predation. Vegetation is very different on the inside and the outside of the fence. Maybe goats will be gone in two to three years, with luck. On this peninsula, eroded tuff appears; on the other side of the Bay, layers of volcanic rock are visible. The sand in Buccaneer Cove where Darwin and others landed is black, volcanic. No cactus could be seen in the unprotected areas, only inside the fence. Outside, the land is mostly brown, with some green bushes/trees on the slopes. I didn't see any goats -- although common, they have learned to fear humans. The Polaris sailed between Albany and Santiago islands. A cave had eroded into the base of the cliff on the west side of Buccaneer Cove. The crew spotted a goat here, but I didn't see it.

The highlands are very green here, after rain last week.

After we passed Buccaneer Cove, Sierra Negra, south of Alcedo, became visible on Isabela.

We passed the black lava field that Darwin described crossing in the Voyage of the Beagle -- it does not look enticing. James Bay is considerably larger than Buccaneer Cove. White spray crashed angrily on the low cliff where the lava field meets the sea. Two smaller boats are anchored at Puerto Egas, on the west side of James Bay.

At gatherings of the passengers both last night and today before lunch, I was unable to interest anyone else in visiting the salinas/salt mine here. That was disappointing to me, but not surprising. Aside from its historical interest (e.g., Darwin describes a visit there in the Voyage of the Beagle), the hike there sounded rather miserable in comparison to other offerings this afternoon: a six-hour round trip walk in the hot sun, with few animals, and not much else of interest to be seen. Compare that to snorkeling, a beach walk or both. Oh, well. Maybe someday I'll be able to come back and fully re-trace Darwin's entire visit here. Probably that will never happen, but one may always dream . . . .

There are still spatter cones everywhere, including at least six of varying sizes in the immediate vicinity of James Bay. We snorkeled at Puerto Egas, where we saw many of the same kinds of creatures we've seen elsewhere, but nothing spectacular. There was a green sea cucumber - or was that in the morning?

It was especially enjoyable to snorkel with my ten-year-old daughter. She's a capable swimmer, but was more comfortable snorkeling when holding her mother's or father's hand. Both kids are growing and becoming more independent so fast, It was nice to have a brief reminder of when they were littler and depended on us more. (Please don't take offense, dear, if you read this someday and make it this far in my narrative. You really are becoming quite a young lady. It just happens so fast, from your parents' perspective. Someday you'll know what I mean.)

The waves here are rather strong, splashing those boarding and exiting the Zodiacs. The beach is black, from eroded basalt. A small group of sea lions lay on the beach, including some pups. When mom was out swimming, if a pup tried to nurse on another female, it was abruptly pushed away. There was one scrawny-looking pup, perhaps a week old. My daughter was rather concerned for its welfare. We wondered if its mother had abandoned it. It approached several females to nurse, but was rebuffed by all. Before long, its mother returned, and allowed it to nurse. But it moved quickly from one teat to another, as if it wasn't getting enough milk. I fear it may not survive long.

There was a small settlement at Puerto Egas about 30 years ago, mining salt from Darwin's Salina. The government required them to evacuate. A few vestiges remain. The park allows boat crews to play soccer on one site of the former settlement, as an exception to usual Park rules governing the uninhabited islands.

After snorkeling, we took a short walk inland, paralleling the beach on a former road, and returning on the beach. Inland we saw some plants well-trimmed by goats, dehydrated donkey droppings, palo santo trees, mockingbirds, lava lizards (some with bright red head, and a Galápagos Dove. There were no finches, perhaps because it was too hot. Two painted locusts mated on a low branch.

As we walked back along the beach, the color of the sand graded from white (broken shells) back to the black (volcanic) where we had begun. On the beach were Galápagos fur sea lions, Galápagos sea lions, Sally Lightfoot crabs, blue-footed boobies, Audubon's shearwaters, marine iguanas, a barn owl, whimbrels, American oystercatchers, semipalmated plovers, lava herons, ruddy turnstones, pelicans, and a great blue heron. If I understand correctly, the great blue heron and the barn owl are probably the same species as those in North America. The barn owl, resting under a rock ledge, was a particularly rare sighting. It is nocturnal here to lessen competition with the hawks on the island. We have been fortunate to see all three species of predatory birds -- Galápagos hawks, two short-eared owls, and one barn owl.

Land iguanas, which were once so numerous on Santiago that Darwin wrote [add quote] are extinct on this island. For reasons that I don't understand, once goats are eradicated here, the Park's plan is apparently not to re-introduce a different subspecies of land iguana to Santiago since the original subspecies is extinct. Sure, it would be better if the original race were still around, but my naive reaction is that adding a different race would make a better restoration of the ecology than would be the case without any land iguanas at all. But what do I know?

The two other boats (later joined by a third) in Puerto Egas were much smaller than the Polaris. Their inhabitants, mostly speaking German and Spanish, also disembarked at the black sand beach. Although I didn't talk to any of them, based on the size of the boats I'm guessing they may have been day-trippers from Puerto Ayora. Being able to stay on board, overnight, allows one to see much more of the islands and is far more rewarding: more time on the islands, more islands visited, and the ability to visit more remote islands.

Our two kids and the other boy on the ship have become good friends over the course of the week, roaming all over the boat and playing countless games of chess.

Our daughter has also become friends with the very nice bartender, John, who mixes all sorts of non-alcoholic beverages for the kids.

Map of the Islands (from the Emory Law School website) (Note: Santiago is also called San Salvador, as shown on this map.)