Cerro Dragon & Sombrero Chino
Thursday took the National Geographic Polaris to a very interesting location, “Cerro Dragon” or “Dragon Hill,” off the north-west coast of Santa Cruz. The morning hike took us through an arid landscape of prickly pear (Opuntia) and candelabra (Jasminocereus) cacti supporting a healthy population of Galápagos land iguanas. Following a successful program to eradicate feral dogs in the 1960's, the once imperiled iguanas now thrive, and their semi-circular burrow openings, excavations, and tracks dominate the landscape. We witnessed a dramatic territorial dispute between two large males. These ancient dragons of Galápagos have played out these same contests for over three million years, sizing up one another in parallel walks, turning face-on and engaging in violent head-bobbing, all to assess mutual fitness and ultimately choose between whether to fight or retreat. The thick calluses of white skin accumulated on their necks from years of scarring clearly showed them to be veteran combatants. Alongside these ancient rituals, other less conspicuous Galápagos endemics played out their respective lives: a small Galápagos blue butterfly, ant-lion larvae waiting in the bottom of their conical pits to grab wrong-footed quarry, and medium cactus finches prying buds from the giant prickly pear cacti.
Beneath the National Geographic Polaris lies a second world, visible only in occasional glimpses. Tight schools of bonito chase smaller fish, occasionally breaking the surface while two-meter Galápagos sharks patrol them from below. A few of us were lucky enough to enter their realm at close-range, swimming from the ship’s side. After lunch, we moved north to Santiago Island for swimming and kayaking between the shores of a recent lava field and the adjacent Bainbridge Islets. These are small parasitic volcanoes, dominated by aptly named “Sombrero Chino” or Chinese Hat. On the shoreline of Santiago Island, Galápagos penguins, small endemic descendents of the mainland's Peruvian penguin, preened in the company of marine iguanas, Galápagos sea lions, and a Galápagos hawk, all within a distance of a few yards. One samples this miraculous world intently and intimately, yet also from afar. Humbled by its isolation and individuality, we were privileged to re-enter a world that Darwin had explored over 170 years before.
Thursday took the National Geographic Polaris to a very interesting location, “Cerro Dragon” or “Dragon Hill,” off the north-west coast of Santa Cruz. The morning hike took us through an arid landscape of prickly pear (Opuntia) and candelabra (Jasminocereus) cacti supporting a healthy population of Galápagos land iguanas. Following a successful program to eradicate feral dogs in the 1960's, the once imperiled iguanas now thrive, and their semi-circular burrow openings, excavations, and tracks dominate the landscape. We witnessed a dramatic territorial dispute between two large males. These ancient dragons of Galápagos have played out these same contests for over three million years, sizing up one another in parallel walks, turning face-on and engaging in violent head-bobbing, all to assess mutual fitness and ultimately choose between whether to fight or retreat. The thick calluses of white skin accumulated on their necks from years of scarring clearly showed them to be veteran combatants. Alongside these ancient rituals, other less conspicuous Galápagos endemics played out their respective lives: a small Galápagos blue butterfly, ant-lion larvae waiting in the bottom of their conical pits to grab wrong-footed quarry, and medium cactus finches prying buds from the giant prickly pear cacti.
Beneath the National Geographic Polaris lies a second world, visible only in occasional glimpses. Tight schools of bonito chase smaller fish, occasionally breaking the surface while two-meter Galápagos sharks patrol them from below. A few of us were lucky enough to enter their realm at close-range, swimming from the ship’s side. After lunch, we moved north to Santiago Island for swimming and kayaking between the shores of a recent lava field and the adjacent Bainbridge Islets. These are small parasitic volcanoes, dominated by aptly named “Sombrero Chino” or Chinese Hat. On the shoreline of Santiago Island, Galápagos penguins, small endemic descendents of the mainland's Peruvian penguin, preened in the company of marine iguanas, Galápagos sea lions, and a Galápagos hawk, all within a distance of a few yards. One samples this miraculous world intently and intimately, yet also from afar. Humbled by its isolation and individuality, we were privileged to re-enter a world that Darwin had explored over 170 years before.
