We returned to the Las Esmeraldas region and once again found ourselves in a small, private complex of bungalow-like cabins above a beach. Our base was called El Acantilado, and it was gorgeous. The beach below stretched for a ways at low tide, to a town called Same (Tsah-meh) to the north. Of course, our time was spent more on the open ocean than on land. Each day, we would head out for around 5 hours to chase whales.
I’ve been whale watching before, but this was totally different. Instead of the small yacht-like vessel that one usually takes when whale watching for tourism or for research with a solid financial base, our group was split between two tiny boats smaller than those of most local fisherman. It was kind of like riding in a tin can with a speedboat motor attached. The sides were lower than most swells, even though the weather was incredibly calm, and bouncing across waves at full speed sprayed water across the whole thing. By the end of the first day, it became pretty clear that wearing anything other than a swimsuit under our life vests was pretty much pointless. I escaped seasickness, but the hour of fast oceanic travel at the start and end of each venture made me pretty sure we would capsize and I’d die right there at sea. Of course, our captains knew exactly what they were doing so we were totally safe, even if it felt like we were on a roller coaster ride about to launch into barrel rolls.
The whales were incredible. It’s the end of the season here, so most mothers have already moved south with their calves to feed in the more productive southern waters of Chile and the Antarctic. We managed to get lucky, though, and had plenty of sightings the first two days. One boat would approach as close as possible in the hopes that our professor could shoot a specialized dart when the whales surfaced. The darts, when they make contact, make a small puncture to catch skin and a small amount of blubber, and bounce back off to float until we picked them up. The procedure is supposedly painless, but it was still weird to be “shooting” at whales. We managed to collect five samples, which is apparently a huge accomplishment even in high season. The second boat followed and recorded the whales’ behaviors: how many in the group, type of group (mother and calf, with or without escort, et cetera), location coordinates and direction of travel, number of blows, type of surface activity, and any reaction to the boats. Our little boats were so low we could drag our hands in the water next to the whales that were easily twice as long as us. I’ve never been so close to these creatures before. We could look into their blowholes and could even hear them singing at the surface a couple of times. We even got to see some fin slaps, flukes, and a breach or two!
Did I mention we got to swim in the pelagic ocean? It started out as addressing the need for bathroom breaks in a boat too small to have a toilet: jump in. It eventually turned into a group swimming session an hour and a half from land in clear, open ocean water. We had no idea of the depth and couldn’t see a creature in sight besides us, but you could hear distant whale songs just by diving a few feet down. It was honestly probably one of the more dangerous things I’ve done when you think about it, but it was also definitely an amazing experience I will never forget. Nor will I forget the final afternoon when we actually ended up swimming back to shore from at least 700 meters out. I still don’t know why we did that, and it was probably the most difficult swim I’ve done (swimming through waves against a current was a new challenge for me), but I felt pretty cool for doing it.
The afternoons were spent doing data entry and lounging in the sun. I liked running on the beach, but most of us stopped going down to it solo after an unfortunate incident with a couple of other students. I’d prefer not to go into it because it was a very personal and serious ordeal. It scared us away from the beach, but did start an important conversation: bad people exist everywhere. That beach is considered one of the safest locations our group of students travels to. Most people in our group spent over a month in Quito without incident but consider it scary in comparison to the majority of locations in the States. In reality, one can be almost anywhere in the world and still become a victim. It’s important to recognize that even with this knowledge, it’s impractical to be afraid of every location and situation. The best thing to do is take precautions for safety and know how to respond when something like an assault does occur. You can’t let fear of what might happen stop you from pursuing goals and exploring new places, no matter where you are.
Speaking of new places....I'm now in the Galapagos. I've made it to the Islands!! We flew in to the island of San Cristobal yesterday afternoon after a surprisingly difficult goodbye with our Quito host families. This Island is the farthest east of the large islands, and has a single small town called Puerto Baquerezo Maureno. The airport is on one side, the main street curves around a little bay, and the university and National Park Interpretive Center is on the other side of town. In total, about 5,000 people live here, with a couple hundred tourists here at any given time. The University hosts a bit under 200 students and consists of a single building of classrooms and a laboratory research building. A beach called Playa Mann is right across the street, and sea lions lounge next to people. The last day and a half have been full of orientation sessions and some free time to wander around the little town. Everything just feels so relaxed! It's a great change from Quito, which honestly kind of overwhelmed me. My new host family seems really nice, too. I definitely lucked out: the mother enjoys cooking, the home is clean and nice with tile floors and a full bathroom (to compare, some other students have a single bucket of fresh water for a shower), and I have a 4-year old brother who is quickly becoming my new best friend. I absolutely cannot believe how lucky I am. I am FINALLY here! I remember learning about these islands in second grade by pure chance, and my interest grew ever since. By the time I was in high school and had learned more about them in the context of Darwin and the progression of evolutionary science, they had become a dream destination for me. I am SO lucky to be here and it's just incredible that I can be studying all of the things I love in the islands that inspired one of the most significant scientific developments of all time: Evolutionary Theory.
A bit about the Islands in general:
- The Galapagos are relatively young, only 10 million years old. Each formed through the buildup of lava flows from volcanic eruptions, so the ground is primarily volcanic rock.
- The full archipelago consists of 13 main islands, 6 smaller ones, and over 40 little islets. It's actually really big and kind of spread out, covering 8000 square km of land and 45000 square km of sea.
- The islands are about 960 km from the main continent, but are actually drifting closer by about 6mm each year. This is caused by the shifting of continental plates, with one pushing under another just west of the islands, pushing them eastward. It generates the same volcanic activity that created the islands, so the islands closest to the activity are the youngest.
- For being on the equator, the islands are a lot drier and less tropical feeling than one might expect, with most islands being rocky with relatively little vegetation. This has a lot to do with them being younger formations with lava flow substrates.
-Right now, it is especially warm and dry (especially for it being the "cool") season, since we are currently in the middle of an El Niño event.
- The animals' populations originated mostly through long distance migrations in the past, so the types of land animals are mostly limited to reptiles and birds (think Iguanas, Giant Tortoises, and finches). The ocean here is absolutely full of life, which I will hopefully start experiencing tomorrow during a class snorkel trip.
-San Cristobal is the only island with a significant source of fresh water. pretty much everything else, including clean drinking water, has to be imported here and to the neighboring Island, Santa Cruz. Santa Cruz has a slightly larger town, but in total 90% of the islands are pristine, unoccupied by people and preserved as National Park and Marine Reserve areas.
I'm currently sitting in the upstairs open sitting and eating area of the university with some other students. Some of the finches come and keep us company up here, fearlessly flying in and hopping around for a bit to check us out. I should be writing a report for my Marine Life class, so I'll get back to that.