Santiago Island
We were out the door by 6:30 a.m., heading over by Zodiac to the long, brown beach of Espumilla, on the island of Santiago (or San Salvador or James). The tide was out, so we landed on a wide beach free of tracks other than ghost crabs and two marine turtle up-and-back tracks. Both times the tracks showed that the animal had climbed the gentle slope, but was stymied at a small cliff (2 feet high?) of sand below the mangrove trees. The tides have eaten away the beach lately, but will surely later replenish it, as it has done for millennia. So there was hope that whoever had left the tracks would sometime soon manage the final climb into the nesting area.
The trail here leads through a very tall forest of Palo Santo trees, and their smell permeated the air around us. It has been a very dry season this year, so although one lagoon had water, the other was just a patch of dried mud. That will change perhaps in the next couple months when the rainy season once again picks up momentum as it does every late December, early January. Prickly pear cacti of various ages also appeared here and there, and in general the vegetation looked healthy. It has been several years now that feral goats have been removed from the island. The plants are getting their breath back, after struggling to survive on the same island as these voracious herbivores for almost 200 years. The giant tortoises, Scalesia atractyloides (flowering shrub), Galápagos rails (small bird) and endemic rice rats also seem to be rebounding, slowly but surely. Lindblad Expeditions adopted this island in 1997 when the M.V. Polaris first arrived, and the funding has had results, in fact world-record-setting results!
However, we did not continue up into the highlands, as much as I would have liked to, but returned in time for breakfast…and on the way managed a glimpse of a female sea turtle (the same as who left the tracks?)sleeping in the surf. She awoke, despite our maintaining a good distance; perhaps just the alarm-clock she needed to get back into the water for the day. Perhaps she’ll try again tonight.
The snorkeling was fabulous, with a cave, sea lions and fish. Kayakers got out for the last time, as did visitors to the glass-bottomed boat; Buccaneer Bay has much to offer, and we took advantage of it all.
After lunch the National Geographic Endeavour repositioned five miles further south in James Bay. A presentation on the human history of Galápagos was an appropriate introduction to our visit ashore, because remnants of a salt-extraction settlement can be seen nearby. However, we walked right by those signs of human presence, and spent time on the coastline where newborn sea lion pups had everyone oooing and ahhhing every time they blinked their eyes (most were asleep). One youngster was just a few hours old; wobbly, floppy flippers, lamb-like bleats, and a nearby afterbirth confirming the event that must have taken place just hours earlier.
An adult Galápagos hawk perched close by, and a regal great blue heron preened as photographers focused and clicked. It was tricky avoiding the marine iguanas, too. It was remarked that the Santiago Island variety looked almost velvety in their russet-colored finery (preparing for breeding season). Two males were found head-to-head on the sand, in perfect battle positions – but sound asleep. Must have exhausted themselves, or were shoring up their energy for the next round, perhaps tomorrow.
Tomorrow for us is another big day; the sun was getting low, the clouds were in, and the air was getting chilly. Time for a warm ship, recap and drinks…
