Volume 14 Issue 1 » 85
down a sandy path we arrive at a shallow
lagoon where the smell of sulphur hangs
heavily in the air. The lagoon is filled
with crustaceans, the favourite food of
flamingos, and a flock stand like pink avian
ballerinas in the distance, daintily feeding
in the shallows.
It takes minutes to cross the island, and
on the other side we’re in the nesting
grounds of the green sea turtle. In daylight
the only sign of their presence is the many
indentations in the sand where they’ve laid
their eggs on previous nights. Once those
eggs hatch only two percent will make it
to the water, the remainder succumbing
to hungry predators like the giant frigate
birds that circle above us. Later in the day
we kayak and snorkel around the turtles
that survived, great, lumbering creatures
with shells four feet long and powerful
flippers that move effortlessly through the
water. With wetsuit-clad bodies we follow
curiously, stunned at our proximity and
their nonchalance. The turtles are utterly
oblivious to our presence; focused on
feeding, they disregard us entirely.
This is the gift of the Galápagos: the
ability to experience nature close up
without ever being perceived as a
threatening presence. Española Island,
the oldest in the archipelago at six million
years, is home to seventeen species found
nowhere else in the world. September is
breeding season and Española’s white sand
is littered with sea lion placenta, testifying
to the newness of the pups cuddled close to
their mothers as we walk by. Further down
the path, at a rocky overlook where waves
smash and foam over the black volcanic
rocks, the sky is filled with swallow-tailed
gulls, giant frigate birds with blood-red
pouches, the rare waved albatross with
its massive wingspan, and red-billed
tropicbirds trailing spectacular long tails.
Santa Cruz Island is our first contact with