This spring, I found myself on the MS Santa Cruz II, capturing the attention of a group of tourists as we observed birds beneath the cliffs of the Galápagos’s largest island. As one of our companions lowered his binoculars, he exclaimed, “Incredible! It’s just like stepping back in time.”
I couldn’t help but agree. There was an unmistakably ancient, almost prehistoric quality to the scene: the rugged landscape, the harsh climate, the abundance of black iguanas resembling primordial slugs on the rocky shores, and the albatrosses and frigate birds soaring through the sky, reminiscent of pterodactyls.
For centuries, the Galápagos has been touted as a place frozen in time—a Pompeii for naturalists—by pirates, whalers, explorers, and more recently, scientists and conservationists. The 2006 BBC series Galápagos even described the islands as a “mysterious prehistoric world” deeply connected to the Earth’s core. Today, the Charles Darwin Foundation invites donors to join the Pristine Galapagos Society, while tourism companies entice customers with promises of experiencing a place untouched by humanity, just as Darwin once did. In fact, my own visit on the MS Santa Cruz II was sponsored by Hurtigruten, a cruise company that invites travelers to “journey in Darwin’s footsteps.” (I reviewed this trip for The Globe and Mail.)
However, this narrative is more about marketing than reality. The very tourism campaigns that promote the Galápagos as unspoiled are undermining and contributing to the existential threat facing the archipelago. By flocking to the Galápagos in search of this untouched paradise, tourists inadvertently disrupt the delicate balance of its ecosystem. If the islands become irreparably damaged, the myth of its prehistoric allure will crumble, tourism that supports the local economy and conservation efforts will diminish, and further ecological decay will follow.
It wasn’t until about 90 years ago that the Ecuadorian government and international conservation organizations started seriously considering the environmental health of the Galápagos. While people had been living on the islands since the early 19th century, mainly engaged in agriculture and fishing, the population remained relatively low with fewer than 2,000 inhabitants by the 1950s. Toward the end of that decade, UNESCO and the International Union for the Conservation of Nature sponsored scientific studies that revealed the unsustainability of the local population due to the introduction of non-native plants and animals. In response, the Galápagos National Park (GNP) and the Charles Darwin Foundation were established in 1959, with the goal of preserving and enhancing the archipelago’s ecology. Julian Huxley, the first honorary president of the foundation, envisioned the park as a “living memorial” for Darwin—a museum of evolution in action and a laboratory for Darwinian biology.
Huxley’s vision, though contradictory, made for compelling marketing. The idea of the Galápagos as a window into prehistory became a cornerstone of tour companies’ spiel: Visit “the islands that time forgot,” they say, “a living museum” where you can “walk in the footsteps of Darwin” in his “living laboratory.” Marketing of other ecological destinations, such as the African savannah and the Amazon rainforest, has followed a similar pattern. However, what sets the Galápagos apart is its reputation as a symbol of nature’s adaptability.
Despite the marketing claims, “change is constant” in the Galápagos, according to Rakan Zahawi, the executive director of the Charles Darwin Foundation. A recent study on the famous finches, for example, revealed that they are modifying their behavior as they adapt to new food sources and predators. Dolph Schluter, an evolutionary biologist at the University of British Columbia, who studied Galápagos finches in the 1970s, once believed that his generation might be the last to observe organisms in their natural environment. This is no longer the case.
One of the main challenges the Galápagos faces is the relentless arrival of invasive species. Zahawi explains that the rate of species introduction is exponential. These species find their way to the Galápagos through sea currents and inadvertently through cruise ships’ bilge water, food shipments, and even visitors’ belongings. “The majority of our work revolves around mitigating the impacts of tourism,” Zahawi says. “While many biologists would prefer to focus on basic biology, the reality is quite different.”
In 2003, Ecuador implemented the “Total Control” regulation to combat invasive species in the Galápagos. Since then, the park has strengthened biosecurity measures for visitors and launched campaigns to eliminate invasive animals. Funds generated from visitors are reinvested into conservation efforts. Park rules, such as staying on designated paths and refraining from touching the famous tortoises, are strictly enforced by GNP guides, who regulate visitor access to the park. However, the tourism ecosystem as a whole continues to have a detrimental impact due to factors like sewage, construction, and the insatiable demand for novel experiences. In 1968, the recommended annual tourism limit was a mere 12,000 visitors. Last year, almost 270,000 tourists disembarked from cruise ships and flights, indulging in pink gin, sushi, and I Love Boobies T-shirts.
This surge in tourism has fueled rapid population growth in the Galápagos. Today, over 30,000 Galápagueños reside on the islands, the majority in the town of Puerto Ayora. A staggering 80% of them work in industries related to tourism. Despite their contributions to the local economy, many residents consider essential services, such as healthcare and education, inadequate compared to the luxury hotels catering to tourists. The marketing of the Galápagos as a separate world from the relentless march of life, coupled with the ecological destruction that ensues, exemplifies what anthropologist Diego Quiroga calls the “Galápagos Paradox.” It’s a destructive cycle that threatens the very existence of the archipelago. The desire to witness the unique ecology before its demise, even if it hastens its destruction, poses a dilemma faced by many fragile ecosystems. “Everything in Galápagos is built around its uniqueness: the biodiversity, the emblematic ecosystem,” Zahawi reflects. “If that’s gone, I worry about what will hold this place together.”
Despite its status as a conservation pilgrimage site and the considerable resources devoted to preserving it, concerns about the Galápagos’s future linger. Zahawi and Quiroga view Hawaii as a possible model for the Galápagos in the coming century—a cautionary tale where tourism has overshadowed conservation efforts. Recently, attempts to introduce tourism-related levies for nonresidents failed in Hawaii, a stark reminder of the challenges faced in balancing conservation with economic interests. “Many species in Hawaii are on life support, and some have already gone extinct due to our failure to recognize the threats in time,” Zahawi warns. By comparison, Ecuador has managed to slow down an otherwise accelerated process.
During my time on the Galápagos, our guide, Daniel Moreano, repetitively referred to the park as an “experiment.” However, when I privately questioned him about the true nature of this so-called experiment, he chuckled and remarked, “Let’s just say it’s evolution. Or perhaps, devolution! Only time will tell how long it can last.”
Denial of responsibility! VigourTimes is an automatic aggregator of Global media. In each content, the hyperlink to the primary source is specified. All trademarks belong to their rightful owners, and all materials to their authors. For any complaint, please reach us at – [email protected]. We will take necessary action within 24 hours.
