Darwin's Hustle

We all know about Charles Darwin, don't we? You know – the Emperor of Evolution, the Grand Master of Natural Selection. We have been led to believe all these years that Charlie was a most serious sort, an academician of the greatest rectitude. But, I have another theory. I think Charlie was bored. He lusted for something a bit more exciting than the medicine he was studying, probably bullied into that by his physician father. So, Charlie dabbled in natural history a little and then hoodwinked Captain Robert Fitzroy into believing that he was a “naturalist,” all so he could hop aboard the H.M.S. Beagle for a five year fling around the globe. Who can blame him, right? And so the twenty-two year old went on the trip of a lifetime. A Spring break without end, you might say!

And, what did he find? Darwin would experience much, but it is the Galapagos Islands where he left his immortal mark. Here, in an island group of 13, roughly 600 miles off the western borders of Ecuador, smack dab on the equator, Charlie made history. As we approached the islands from the air, the Galapagos seemed so inconsequential. Just tiny brownish droplets of land so small against the Pacific you had to remind yourself that these droplets were not weightless floating things but rather the protrusion of mountains and volcanoes anchored to the bottom of the sea. And, at least the islands we saw from the air were mostly brown dotted with touches of green with slender threads of sandy beaches rimming the islands. This would not be the jungle exploding with green vegetation of a thousand sorts, but largely a semi-arid, cactus-dotted environment.

Upon arrival, our bags were closely examined to assure local officials that we were not carrying with us any alien plant or animal life that might threaten the fragile ecosystem we were about to explore. This theme would emerge time and time again as we learned of the lengths to which the locals strived to protect the local environment. No doubt the motivation for this was driven in part by the paramount need of the locals to protect their only viable source of income – tourism -- but there was no questioning the sincerity of their effort as they advised us constantly of the things we needed to be mindful of to protect the flora and fauna from potential threats to their well being. Even our plane was generously sprayed, including the overhead luggage bins, to further these objectives.

We found our way to our catamaran, our intrepid group of seven (Alex and Katie, Jesse and Laura, Maggie, and Lily and me) and were introduced to our guide, Oswaldo (who, for some strange reason, I kept thinking in the early hours was named Pablo. My bad.) We would join about eight others from Australia, England, Japan, and the U.S. and together we would begin our exploration.

And, what an eye opener! We were advised to never touch the animals which I took as perhaps a bit of over cautiousness. But, soon enough we would see that was not the case. Our daily routine was generally to do two walking tours around the various islands and two snorkeling adventures. What we discovered was that the animals of the Galapagos have NO fear of human kind. None. There were moments when I was sorely tempted to reach down and touch that blue footed boobie or that sea lion or that pelican or marine iguana or that giant tortoise. But, I didn't. None of us did. (Speaking of blue footed boobies, by the way, please forgive me if I tell you that it was just too tempting to say from time to time, “wow, that's a nice set of boobies over there!”) Since natural instincts, I would think, would give these animals some trepidation at human presence, I have to think it was because of the consistent and firm instruction to visitors over many years now not to touch the animals that this fearlessness has become so imbedded in these creatures.

Nowhere was this characteristic more amiably on display, and wonderfully so, than in the water. For sure, the multitudes of brightly colored fish kept their distance; apparently they hadn't gotten the memo. But, the sea lions....oh my goodness! These guys, especially the young ones, were more than just idly curious about us. They wanted to play! One morning, for example, while casually snorkeling in the shallows alongside a stone jetty, minding my own business, a young sea lion spotted us and swam straight at us, no doubt to personally introduce himself. He would swim right up to my mask, looking me straight in the eye. If sea lions could smile, this fellow would have one ear to ear. Without any effort, he swam within an inch or two of my face and then, in a most coquettish way, would flip himself upside down and spiral away. Moments later he would return, this time with his mouth wide open – no doubt laughing – and come within a couple of inches of my wiggling fingers. You know, the kind of wiggling of fingers one might do when talking to a six month old baby. I'm not sure whether he was playing tag, or keep away, or whatever, but this young dude was having a great time. And, so was I.

And, so it went. A wonderful flowing mix of interactions with people, both familiar and unfamiliar, and daily encounters with animals who, clearly, were on a first name basis with us. The Galapagos were a wonderful discovery for us. And, I have to say, Charlie Darwin may have bamboozled Captain Fitzroy, but I admire his chutzpah.

As Mary, Katie's mom would say, “carpe friggin' diem!”