Friday, July 10th. Isla Santa Cruz – Lonesome George.
We take the zodiacs into the port of Santa Cruz and are met by a small tour bus to drive our group up to the highlands of the island where we will see the giant tortoises in their natural habitat. The town has grown considerable since I was here five years ago and several three-story hotels have sprung up on the waterfront, blocking the view of the harbor. It’s early morning, but the many cafes are opening their shutters in preparation for the tourists that will flock to the town. As we drive out of town and into the highlands, the vegetation becomes lush and green. The morning is overcast and misty and we pass simple cinderblock houses and farms; the paint faded and worn and the red soil permeated everything around. Banana trees and trumpet flowers grow in abundance, their drooping, ivory colored, bell shaped flowers heavy with rain. Our first brief stop is to a lava tube and our group descends the slippery rock stairs into darkness, punctuated only by the occasional flash of some ones camera. As we exit, Alexis finds the light and the immense tunnel is illuminated. The tube is 15′ in diameter and extends for as far as we can see, but parts of it have collapsed and we retrace our steps back to the waiting bus. The bus turns down a hard packed dirt road and several people exclaim when they spot a giant tortoise in the farmland; an immense bump in the grassy fields. The tortoises are wild here and the local ranchers have a symbiotic relationship with them. Each day, multiple tour buses arrive with groups that traipse through their fields to get a close up look at these prehistoric creatures. This rancher has built an open visitors center and supplies rubber boots to the tourists in hopes that at the end of the visit, a drink, an ice cream or a postcard may be sold. We don our rubber boots and walk out along muddy paths into the fields. Several giants are at rest in the tall grass, their worn shells, glistening with moisture. Although we must stay a respectable distance from the tortoises, it’s not too challenging to take up close and personal photographs. Further, into the fields we come upon a swampy pond with three semi-submerged tortoises taking their morning mud baths. I have seen Franz Lanting’s photograph of the giant tortoises in a pond, mist gently shrouding their shapes. I presume it was taken in this same spot, but at dawn with the mist rising. I know that it takes much planning and patience to capture an exquisite photograph at the optimum time of day. We have plenty of time to spend with the tortoises but when we drive away in the bus, we are blocked by a lone tortoise dead center in the red dirt road. The bus stops and Alexis gets out and prods the tortoise underneath his tail until irritated, he moves slowly to the side of the road and we can pass.
Our afternoon visit is to the Darwin Research Center. This excursion is somewhat boring to me, but we meet lone George, the last surviving tortoise of his species and listen to Alexis drone on about his perceived breeding conspiracy theory. The pens of baby tortoises are very cute and John and I wonder what the penalty would be for tortoise napping. We later lean that we have an alternative and can purchase a giant tortoise for a mere $100,000. We walk from the Darwin center through town, stopping at numerous tourist gift shops in search of the perfect Galapagos souvenir, which apparently does not exist. In my many travels, it’s always disappointing, how limited the selection of good designs are. The Galapagos themed jewelry available is crude and uninspired and I fantasize about having a stylish jewelry shop here. We find an internet cafe, call home, and are relieved to know that all is fine at home.