Stars and Sea Lions
Camping on a Galápagos Island

By Thane Joyal

Several years ago, my family spent a few months in the Galápagos Islands: my husband, James; our seven-year-old son, Hamish; and me. The islands are on the equator, 600 miles off the coast of Ecuador.

James is a conservation biologist. We traveled to the remote island of Española so that he could study the tortoises and the cacti that grow there. Only scientists—and sometimes fishermen—are allowed to camp on the beach. This is one of the rules that protect the giant tortoises, flightless cormorants, Darwin’s finches, and other plants and animals found only in Galápagos.

Once over-hunted, the native tortoises on Española are now well protected by the Galápagos National Park Service. Their population is recovering slowly. James has come to see if the tortoises have enough of their most important food—the cactus—and he invited us along for the trip.

When we arrive on the remote beach—Playa Manzanillo—the first thing we do is unload our gear. The biggest job is hauling our water, which is in large green plastic jugs. Three weeks of drinking water is heavy.

 

We set up camp at the top of the beach, behind the dune. The front part of the beach is the living room for a colony of sea lions— mothers and their pups. At this time of year, a big male sea lion guards the colony from his outpost on a rock in the middle of the bay. The sea lions are noisy but friendly neighbors. When the mothers are not at sea catching fish, they sleep on the beach while the pups nurse and nap.

By ten o’clock, it is too hot to be out in the sun. Hamish and I find shade under a rock outcrop at the end of the beach that we call our “office.” We play cards and drink lots of water. Hamish reads, and I write in my journal.

Hamish and I are in charge of watching camp while James goes into the highlands to look for tortoises and count cacti. Every morning, before the sun gets too high, we go swimming. The little sea lions like to play tag with us in the water, darting in and out, although we never touch them. Like the young sea lions, we never venture past the rocks that protect the bay from sharks.

Hamish likes the hermit crabs. He has to be careful because they might pinch his fingers.

At night we are tired. Sea lions are noisy sleepers. They roll around, grunt, and call to one another. Their tummies rumble. James tells us about his day—there are lots more tortoises than he saw on his last visit, and they have plenty to eat. He then reads aloud to us before we sleep.

The moon seems very close, and sometimes the wind blows softly. When we look outside our tent, we see the big sweep of the Milky Way overhead and a set of bright stars called the Southern Cross.

Up on the beach, we hear a baby sea lion looking for his mother in the dark. “Aarp? Aarp?” Then he settles down with soft shushing noises, telling us that Mom has found him. We roll over in our sleeping bags and go to sleep. It is good to live so simply in such a beautiful place.

See more photos from this family’s adventure in the Photo Gallery.