Following my last post on the management of small natural areas, readers asked for solutions. So here is a brief account of my visit to the Galapagos Islands in Ecuador in 2016. I don’t mean to imply that the Galapagos Islands have solved all these problems, or that there are not still conflicts – there are. But my husband Fred and I observed simple and not so simple things they did to try to protect their unique natural heritage.
We elected to stay on one of the populated islands, Santa Cruz, instead of going on a cruise or boat. We thought this had a better chance of ensuring our tourist dollars made their way into the hands of local people. We also worked with a local tour guide company.
The first morning, we went on foot from the main town of Puerto Ayora to a beach called Tortuga Bay. At the entrance to the paved walkway, there was a guide post, where we had to sign in. There was no fee. The rules for the place and the types of wildlife were listed on posters on the walls. Snack food and drinks were available in vending machines. We set off on the pathway, through a landscape of cactus and rocks, unlike any I had ever seen. Hot, quiet, many unfamiliar birds, about a 45 minute walk. No garbage containers and also no litter at all.
We came at last to the end of the walkway and there was Tortuga Bay – a blinding white sand beach, low dunes behind it, crashing surf. Beautiful beyond my ability to describe - a photo will have to do.
We could see a few people in the far distance. We had been told the swimming from the beach was dangerous due to the currents, so if we wanted to swim, we should go to a sheltered lagoon. There was no shade at all on the beach, so we headed that way, and came to a mangrove ringed beach with calm water. Many people were there – families on blankets, with their own food, children in the water. There was no beach furniture of any kind. We saw a patrol boat pulled up on the sand. A man in khaki clothes leaned against it.
We selected a shady mangrove tree and spread our beach cloths. Fred removed his shirt and hung it on the tree. Instantly, the ranger was at our side, saying that nothing could be hung on the mangroves. Fred got talking to him, and he explained the boat was only there for emergencies. There was no music. No food cooking, no vending. No water sports, except swimming, and we saw a few kayaks. Nothing except a gorgeous natural place and happy people. The birds were obviously well acclimatized to humans and came very close to us. No one was allowed to feed the birds.
There were a few trails leading off the beach and I followed them. When they came to sensitive areas - for example, where there were nesting birds or turtles – there was only a low, hand painted sign saying ‘stop’.
From one of these trails, I saw a family with children, their legs in the water, two marine iguanas basking right night to them, a sight that would cause most Jamaicans to faint clean away.
On another day, we went by boat to one of the iconic viewpoints of the Galapagos – you’ll see it in virtually every promotional poster – Pinnacle Rock.
Again, the guide was local – well, we only encountered local guides, and all were bilingual and very knowledgeable. And we had a time slot for our hike, because only a certain amount of people were allowed on the site at any given time. Even the expensive cruise boats, which were waiting for their passengers’ time slot, had to moor somewhere out of view, so we could enjoy the sight of an unspoilt landscape. In other words, a carrying capacity for the site had been established and it was enforced.
Another time we walked to a strange crevasse in the earth, filled by the sea, where we swam with the largest parrot fish I had ever seen. The path ran behind luxurious properties, and no one objected. Mind you, we were quiet.
I’m sure there are people in the Galapagos who feel left out of tourism, I know there are fishers who push back against the fishing rules, I have read there is tension between those who live on the populated islands and those who visit, but the impression I formed was of a broad agreement that the natural beauty of the place and the strange, fearless animals, were worth protecting, and for that, both visitor and resident were willing to sacrifice a little comfort to lie on fallen leaves in the sand.
So, yes, we can find ways to manage beautiful places, ways which don’t exclude or discriminate, and which accept that non human inhabitants also matter If – and it’s a bit IF – we can agree that nature is not merely something to be monetized and plundered, and has its requirements, limits and constraints.
A fascinating account! I envy you. I do love the idea of the "Stop" signs! Simple. So there were actually luxury properties there, I did not know that. I envy you the Blue-footed Booby. I have always wanted to see one. And who needs beach furniture, anyway!