Do you think reptiles are cute? Or is that just me? Especially those of the order Testudines. I’m talking turtles. Yeah, they’re technically scaly, cold blooded, shelled lizards with wrinkly faces…but something about them just gets me. Look at these faces! How could you not love ‘em??
I’ve already gotten to have several lucky moments in the water, swimming side by side with massive green sea turtles. This Sunday, I got to meet some of the land variety. I went with some fellow classmates to visit the Galapaguera de Cerro Colorado, the reserve and breeding center for giant tortoises on San Cristobal Island.
The Galápagos hosts 11 species of tortoises endemic to the islands. Most species are found only on one of the islands, having evolutionarily diverged from tortoises on adjacent islands. The species on San Cristobal, Geochelone chatamensis, has a small existing population that survived the effects of visiting whalers hungry for turtle meat in the past and, later, introduced animals like goats, dogs, and cats. The population is split between two locations: a small, protected area on the northeast area of the island and the breeding center outside of town. The breeding center opened some years ago after transferring some of the adults from the wild population to the Galapaguera. These individuals get a comfortable life of meandering through native vegetation, eating to their hearts’ content. They’re not the largest or the longest-living of the Galapagos tortoises, but they’re still pretty impressive. We met a few that were at least 70 years old and who’s shell came up to my knees. They watched us carefully, hissing like some prehistoric version of a Monday-morning-grouch and retreating their old-man-heads into their shells if we moved too fast or too close to their comfort zones. The tortoises here mate once a year and the park employees take the eggs and incubate them to maximize survival. The baby turtles are monitored for five years before being released back into the wild population.
Talk about cute: the babies are exact replicas of their massive parents, except for the fact that they could fit in your hand. Even the way they move is the same. They slowly bob and sway their heads to find a good spot to step, then carefully shift one front foot at a time forward. The back feet follow slowly and blindly, dragging along until finding a stable spot. This whole extensive process is exhausting and time consuming, so the tortoises take a necessary breather every couple of steps. Every single one of us fell in love with the tortoises.
The Galápagos hosts 11 species of tortoises endemic to the islands. Most species are found only on one of the islands, having evolutionarily diverged from tortoises on adjacent islands. The species on San Cristobal, Geochelone chatamensis, has a small existing population that survived the effects of visiting whalers hungry for turtle meat in the past and, later, introduced animals like goats, dogs, and cats. The population is split between two locations: a small, protected area on the northeast area of the island and the breeding center outside of town. The breeding center opened some years ago after transferring some of the adults from the wild population to the Galapaguera. These individuals get a comfortable life of meandering through native vegetation, eating to their hearts’ content. They’re not the largest or the longest-living of the Galapagos tortoises, but they’re still pretty impressive. We met a few that were at least 70 years old and who’s shell came up to my knees. They watched us carefully, hissing like some prehistoric version of a Monday-morning-grouch and retreating their old-man-heads into their shells if we moved too fast or too close to their comfort zones. The tortoises here mate once a year and the park employees take the eggs and incubate them to maximize survival. The baby turtles are monitored for five years before being released back into the wild population.
Talk about cute: the babies are exact replicas of their massive parents, except for the fact that they could fit in your hand. Even the way they move is the same. They slowly bob and sway their heads to find a good spot to step, then carefully shift one front foot at a time forward. The back feet follow slowly and blindly, dragging along until finding a stable spot. This whole extensive process is exhausting and time consuming, so the tortoises take a necessary breather every couple of steps. Every single one of us fell in love with the tortoises.
The rest of our Sunday was spent exploring the surrounding area. My friend Shannon’s host dad drove us around. His family came along, so we all piled in to the back bed of his pickup, ready for adventure. The area above town is generally referred to as “the highlands”, as it raises 2,000+ feet above the rolling flats of the rest of the island. It’s a reminder of the volcanic activity that originally created San Cristobal. It hosts El Progreso, a sleepy farming village left over from the original penal colony of the island (Yep, the Galápagos is yet another place that was originally settled through some mainland country sending all their criminals away to an isolated island). Above the town, there are many trails taking off into the national park, as well as Laguna El Junco, the only major freshwater source on the islands. It’s a whole different world. The slopes catch the southern winds which build up and create a cooler climate with regular rainfall. As a result, everything is green and lush and there are actually substantial trees and flowers and ferns and moss. And mud. Our walk to El Junco turned into more of a slippery muck climb. It didn’t help that the misty Garúa had turned into substantial fog and rain once we gained elevation.
To be honest, it reminded me of romping around in the rain and dirt in Oregon. It was just so refreshing to get out of town and the dry, prickly greyness of the coastal shrubs and cacti to become surrounded by messy, mucky, mudlicious life. I guess I’ve missed the rain more than I thought. I’m sure I’ll get over it REAL quick as soon as I come home, though.
We finished off the day with a few hours lounging on Puerto Chino, a secluded beach at the end of the road that traverses the highlands. It was surprisingly busy. I guess it’s a favorite Sunday spot for locals. We napped in the sand until we had the beach to ourselves and then explored. We managed to forget food for the day, so an empanada stop was necessary on our return. Freshly fried, filled with cheese, and sprinkled with sugar - maybe it was my empty stomach talking, or my cold and thoroughly rain-soaked and truck-shaken body, but these were probably the best empanadas I’ve ever had.
To be honest, it reminded me of romping around in the rain and dirt in Oregon. It was just so refreshing to get out of town and the dry, prickly greyness of the coastal shrubs and cacti to become surrounded by messy, mucky, mudlicious life. I guess I’ve missed the rain more than I thought. I’m sure I’ll get over it REAL quick as soon as I come home, though.
We finished off the day with a few hours lounging on Puerto Chino, a secluded beach at the end of the road that traverses the highlands. It was surprisingly busy. I guess it’s a favorite Sunday spot for locals. We napped in the sand until we had the beach to ourselves and then explored. We managed to forget food for the day, so an empanada stop was necessary on our return. Freshly fried, filled with cheese, and sprinkled with sugar - maybe it was my empty stomach talking, or my cold and thoroughly rain-soaked and truck-shaken body, but these were probably the best empanadas I’ve ever had.
The food continued when I came home. My host dad cooked up a heaping pile of canchalagua. In English, we call it chiton. It’s an intertidal mollusk that resembles, as my boyfriend so eloquently describes, a dinosaur turd. It tastes like the smell of dead shellfish and has a texture tougher than calamari. My host dad LOVES it. My host mom says it’s better in ceviche. I said “uhm….la textura es interesante….” I tried it (check another local “specialty off the list!) but it wasn’t really my thing. They foresaw my squeamishness, though, and had some lobster tails grilled up as backup for me. I was just fine with that.
This week is disappearing fast. Between research projects, quizzes, volunteering in my professor’s lab, and multiple upcoming scuba trips, I feel busier than ever. No complaints though. I’m fully submerged in experiences relevant to everything I’ve ever wanted to do with my life. I’m still finding time to think about the future, too. I just sent off my application to spend my spring term studying at the Hatfield Marine Research Center in Newport. There, I’d literally live at the research center and spend every day taking marine science classes and going out into the field and working in labs. After this trip, it’s the next major opportunity I just can’t let myself miss. I’ll hear back in November. Fingers crossed!
This week is disappearing fast. Between research projects, quizzes, volunteering in my professor’s lab, and multiple upcoming scuba trips, I feel busier than ever. No complaints though. I’m fully submerged in experiences relevant to everything I’ve ever wanted to do with my life. I’m still finding time to think about the future, too. I just sent off my application to spend my spring term studying at the Hatfield Marine Research Center in Newport. There, I’d literally live at the research center and spend every day taking marine science classes and going out into the field and working in labs. After this trip, it’s the next major opportunity I just can’t let myself miss. I’ll hear back in November. Fingers crossed!