TRAFFIC IN THE GALÁPAGOS, I – Janice Anne Wheeler, Sparring With Mother Nature
Love & Peace…in the Galápagos I witnessed both. As promised, here’s a glimpse.
Photo credit, right, Lee-Ann Wheeler If you’ve just joined our engaging little community, please read SPARS & SPARRING, my introductory piece.….it introduces my wonders and my wanders. ~J TRAFFIC IN THE GALÁPAGOS, II always seek Mother Nature’s creatures and NEVER have I been so peacefully proximate.
I captured this magic at Playa Punta Carola on Isla San Cristóbal; similar scenes played out everywhere, without fear or hesitation. No zoom required. The wild animals I was raised amongst shied at my presence; white tailed deer, snowshoe rabbit, chickadee, assorted squirrels, raccoons, and avians were but a quick blur, providing glimpses of varied tails rather than the chance to observe, study or relate. My childhood home was in the woods on a dirt road and in decades of wandering the (very) lightly populated Adirondack Mountains of Upstate New York I encountered only a single, rolly-polly, fast-moving black bear, barely recognizable in its race to safety; the birds we fed fled. The vast majority of that deciduous forest’s residents sank into the shadows with their natural camouflage, detected my presence long before I got there, and left me feeling like a solo traveler rather than an accepted participant in their environment. I carried only a camera, stepped what I thought was softly, and willed them to let me capture their character, to no avail; I disturbed the peace rather than brokered it. The creatures of the Galápagos? They shied not at all.
Goldfinches procreate on the Malecón. On the equatorial archipelago that Carlos Darwin (as he is known locally) made famous, sea lions are draped peacefully on every step, bench, dock and picnic table, calmly, awkwardly, moving toward their chosen spot until someone gives way. The only path to the lighthouse was blocked by snoozing pinnipeds. We climbed railings, rocks and ridges to maintain a respectful distance with the joy that is created by such a unique and calming presence as well as the paradox of it all. It is as it should be, I think. Clearly, they were here first.
Los Lobos, the Sea Lions, were captivating; their calls echoed on the waterfront. Tiny birds alight within easy reach, eyes clearly twinkling; ancient, ungainly tortoises utilize the narrow roads and long-imagined, prehistoric Marine Iguanas are everywhere, blending in perfectly with the lava rock where you were just about to step. On Tortuga Bay, Isla Santa Cruz, they were the beach traffic, dozens walked back and forth, forth and back, as we humans dodged, photographed and admired intricate, grasping claws, the erectness of their intimidating spines and the completeness of their patient silence.
Adaptable, indigenous Marine Iguanas were in the midst of nesting season, too. I dusted tracks off the sarong laid down in a path that was not mine to block, and apologized profusely for overstepping my bounds. They were not bothered. I still was welcome, flitting along in the background of a National Park experiment that is brilliant in its simplicity and impressive in its success.
In that bay my skin wrinkled and whitened as I took in every detail of a 1.5 meter Pacific Green Sea Turtle grazing placidly in less than three feet of warm, hazy, outgoing tide. She turned her triangular tail, only to turn back, move closer, munch louder, not remotely disturbed by my hours of undying gratitude and gut-clenching fascination. Four others with similar girths and soulful presence that day had me in a haze of happiness. Young sharks darted by and assorted cleaner fish worked diligently on algaed, ancient shells and leathery skin; symbiosis beneath the surface. One serious, informative young tour guide kept asking us in quick, strongly accented English, “Are you getting me here?” “Got you,” we told him, smiling, jealous that he lived in and taught about a world where everyone simply gets along. Red-throated lizards and even redder Sally Lightfoot Crabs pause rather than skitter; Blue-Footed Booby birds decorate the cliffs. Soaring Frigates constantly grace the sky, but you cannot keep looking up. You must look everywhere.
These timeless centurions were slaughtered for their meat to near extinction, including by Darwin’s expedition. A remarkable, if slow, comeback. 158 juveniles bred in captivity were released February 20th.
I’ve explored only a small percentage of our amazing, complex world, but I’ve made concerted effort to see a considerable measure of the coveted creatures thus far identified above the surface of the sea and below it. Never have I been so peacefully proximate. I know this awe will be with me forever. I was entranced by the reality of such fabled, varied life, all of it strolling, flying or swimming remarkably close to humans from all corners of the globe with remarkable, benign, curious acceptance. I’ve often commented on animals knowing, instinctively, who is a threat and who is not. Is that fact? I do not know. It is simply my observations, far and wide, which back up the theory, time and time again. ~J
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© 2026 Janice Anne Wheeler
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