I take ten steps onto land and then I stop. Standing in that one place I turn in place taking a 360 degree view of where I am. Here is what I see. On the rocks around me there are dozens and dozens of marine iguanas sunning themselves. They're joined by hundreds of crabs in brilliant hues of orange and red that walk across the rocks. A lava lizard scampers across the path, inches from my toes. On the rocks I can see three or four pelicans preparing to fish. In the water I spot a dozen sea lions swimming as well as at least one green sea turtle. Blending in with the rocks there are dozens of other sea lions asleep. I spot a blue-footed booby on the rocks as well. A gregarious mockingbird approaches to investigate me. I spot a Galapagos Hawk in a nearby tree.
Of all the things I wasn't prepared for in the Galapagos, the accessibility of the animals was perhaps the most surprising. These animals were not far off. I could reach out and touch at least half of the species I named above.
I don't want to recite a natural history of the Galapagos Islands, but every human visitor has not been kind to the animals there. Early explorers did land on the islands and hunt some of the animals. Some of Darwin's experiments were cruel. Buccaneers used the islands for protection and whalers were active in the region (and probably still are.) But humans didn't settle the islands in anything more than the smallest of numbers. The terrain is hostile and, more importantly, the entire group of islands has only one tiny freshwater spring.
The only predator who hunts on land is the Galapagos Hawk. They eat small birds, small lizards, and they especially love sea lion placenta. A human being is nothing like a hawk and the animals have no fear of human beings. (Things are a bit different in the water where sea lions, sea turtles, pelicans, penguins, herons, boobies, dolphins, whales, and sharks all do their hunting.)
On land some of the animals approach us with curiosity. Others are completely indifferent to humans. Still others are slightly skittish. However, on the Galapagos a yellow warbler may fly across the path and sit on a branch a few feet away. When going bird watching with my father as a child in New England we usually had to get out the binoculars to spot them. Most of these animals were, at one time or another, close to me. I am talking about inches, not feet.
So, without further ado, here are some pictures of me doing my best Saint Francis of Assisi impersonation.
(With a Giant Tortoise)
(With a Land Iguana)
(With a colony of Marine Iguanas)
(One of these Sea Lions is different)
A few more comments on being close to the animals: First, most of the animals were actually quite indifferent to a dozen human beings walking by in a group. On trails we encountered land iguanas, marine iguanas, and sea lions that decided the trail would be comfortable to lie across. This required walking around delicately or stepping over. Often the animals didn't even bother to wake up!
Second, we observed a rule in the Galapagos. We weren't allowed to touch the animals but if the animals decided they wanted to touch us, that was OK. Most of these types of interactions happened in the water. Curious sea lions swam up to me while I was snorkeling and put their faces a few inches away from my mask. We played games diving and chasing each other and one of the other snorkelers told me that when the sea lion chased me it would nip at the tips of my fins. In a bay we stood shin deep in the water while rays swam in the surf. Occasionally the rays would brush against my ankles. And, while snorkeling I found myself looking down at an amazing green sea turtle. The surf brought us in to shallow waters and for a minute I was pressed belly to back against a sea turtle. This was like nothing I could have imagined.
("Close to Me" is one of the best songs by The Cure.)
