Looking back

A humpback whale and its baby surfaced a few feet from our kayak

















































After four months in the Galapagos, what are my impressions? I have never been in a more intensely watched world, a World Heritage Site that is an icon for millions of folks, most of whom will never set sight on the islands. The intensity made me dig under layer after layer until I simply found more layers of confusion. I wish I could say "I got it" but I cannot.

Layer 1 The miracle. Hundreds of species of flora and fauna have evolved into unique beings never seen elsewhere. Most are utterly fearless of humans and seem as innocent (and sometimes as adorable) as babies. These stunning animals evoke feelings of hope and love in almost every tourist. They deserve a safe place to live, play and reproduce.

Layer 2 The less miraculous part is the advent of humans, who have entered as the most influential "invasive" species ever. The humans and their dogs, cats, rats, pigs and goats rose to the top of the food chain in a speck of time. The residents think about making a living and raising children; the national park is hardly a concern.

Layer 3 Then there are the environmentalists, who see their duty as preserving the endemic species so that some of the pristine landscapes remain.

Layer 4 How about the tourists? They fall in love with the animals and never meet the locals. They hear rumors that this paradise will be saved because there will be a cap on tourism someday.


The layers make all kinds of assumptions about each other but live almost completely isolated from each other. All of this rankles me, and I feel like a bobbing cork in a tempest. As I leave, I look wistfully at a cloudy Puerto Baquerizo, marvel at the leaping rays, and chat comfortably with the boat captain.

My thoughts drift to my last day in Santa Cruz. While completing the paperwork at the Darwin Station, I ran into the Darwin Station's executive director, Gabriel Lopez. A Cuban-American who has worked for the UN, his job is to take the first steps into the second fifty years. After 50 years of scientific research, the Station is proud of its documents [mostly in English], an informative visitors' site, and loyal donors. Lopez himself is a marvelous ambassador for the Station's work. He has charm, humor, and endless patience. He is determined to find a way to carry out scientific research AND have an improving relationship with residents. This is a new road to follow and it will not be built easily. The scientific research has been the cornerstone of the organization, and the "social sciences" are a recent addition. Lopez reallizes that the community will determine what happens to the environment and how tourism will develop. The problem is how to relate to the community so that the research conclusions will be understood and have some influence. A long history of mutual suspicion gets in the way, and this is not easily changed.

However, if anyone can reconcile the two worlds, it will be Dr. Lopez. He knows he has a lot to overcome but he senses his ability to be "oil on turbulent waters." I wish him the best.

To me, the way to take a first step is to befriend the local community. Take part in the life of the community and get out of the "ghetto" located on 450 acres "just past the cemetery." This change is not as easy as it seems. A few people like me can interview residents and publish their stories. But if the donors see that the CDF is ineffectual in promoting conservation, will they continue to contribute? If the CDF proposes to link their future to the residents' needs (better schools, more parks, etc.), who will donate funds? Will such a change not imply that the human community has the pivotal role, not the CDF?

Support from the Ecuadorian community hardly mattered in 1959 when the Station and Park were founded; there were only 3,000 residents and almost no tourism. Now there are almost 40,000 residents and a massive tourism industry, worth about $.5B dollars. The residents don't rely on the Station to interpret their world; instead, they look to the hand that butters their bread and that is the hand of the tourist.

To many locals, the Station is anathema. The CDF literature glorifies the animals and endemic plants so consistently that local folks frequently complain. The most common statement is some version of this one: "it is easier for a sea lion to get stitches than for a person to get his broken arm treated." All of the non-profits address the challenges to flora and fauna, with nary a word about the humans. In a survey of books sold to tourists, geographer Christophe Grenier found that 98% of the photos were of animals and plants. Of the 2% featuring humans, virtually all of the pictures showed the tourists themselves.

The non-profits' studies imply that humans are destroying the environment either directly (overfishing, shark finning, sea cucumber harvesting) or indirectly (via rats, cats, dogs, pigs, goats and donkeys that destroy habitats and eat tortoise and iguana eggs). The residents know they need tourist dollars and have no thoughts of cutting back on their income-producing activities. In fact, just the opposite is true. I went to a university class where local students presented their ideas for increasing (sustainable) tourism. Each idea was creative (coffee tourism, video tourism, etc.) and all involved plans to augment income from foreigners and mainland Ecuadorians.

More influential businessmen have proposed deep-sea fishing expeditions, "artesanal" fishing, and increasing the number of local cruise ships. All of these ideas have an entrepreneurial flair and some might succeed. But they are being developed with the goal of adding income to local coffers, not in order to enhance the care of flora and fauna.

Tourists assume that there are no local people and their visits to uninhabited islands only confirms this impression. Tourists meet multi-lingual guides, a few boat attendants and a cook or two. A German asked me if any people lived on the Galapagos, and I responded by asking if others were wondering the same thing. All nodded. I said that there were 30,000 - 40,000 residents, roads, schools, governments, trash dumps, universities and more. There was a need for books, hospitals and sewage treatment plants. The looks I got!

A tourist on my cruise asked about shark attacks and the guide's response was, "there are many types of sharks here but they are really passive." The truth is that there was a bull or tiger shark attack near Isabela. Well informed tourists could have asked about the 2001 oil spill by the freighter Jessica, that polluted the coast with 240,000 gallons of diesel. Or, the killing of 53 sea lions. Or the clubbing of 15 sea lions in 2008 and removal of their genitals, to be sold, presumably, as aphrodisiacs. But dialogue like this is rare.

Not surprisingly, non-profits advocate limits on growth. One NGO employee told me that he just could not wait for the locals to turn around their thinking:

"We don't have the luxury of waiting. Pretty soon, the animals will be gone, because the islands won't be able to support them. You can try to educate the folks here, and then they might change. But maybe not. These island are too important. They are too unique for us to be patient. Once they are gone, it will be too late to do anything."

I agreed but how could this occur, I wondered. "There are good laws, but there is no enforcement. Your donations of two-way radios is commendable, but who is going to use them? And if the radios locate illegal fishing, who is going to arrest and prosecute?"

"That is a problem," he acknowledged. "We have to give them the technology. At least they have the tools. We are now helping find the law-breakers, but local governments will have to make the laws work.

"And how can we get local judges to judge their brothers, fathers and uncles? Is it possible that a judge would fine his close relative? If he did, would he be welcome in local homes? In the neighborhood bar or restaurant?"

"I know that is tough," he answered, "but we have no choice.

The thinking goes like this: "Publish the facts and show people what to do. Eventually, they will do the right thing." Behind the words are lots of assumptions: local folks don't have the fact and they don't know what to do. If they had the information collected by the foreign NGOs, they would change. They will see that they are killing the goose (or tortoise) that is producing the golden eggs of tourism, and they will wise up. Or they will lose everything.

Many tourists told me that they had no idea there were local folks. Even more told me that they had heard there was a plan to eliminate the people. Some said that there was a prohibition on growth and immigration. All of these assumptions are wrong. At the current rate of growth, the islands will double their population within the next 11-15 years. There will be 100,000 residents within one generation and 200,000 by 2050. The the "Special Law of the Galapagos" limits the granting of permanent residency, but there are ways around the law. There are no plans to deport the permanent residents, who have a very high birth rate.

One lovely natural jewel near Puerto Ayora is called Las Grietas. This is a populare swimming and diving spot that is a boat ride and short walk from town. The grietas (chasms) are 70' cliffs on either side of a transparent canal flowing from volcanic rocks to the sea. Risking their lives, teenagers jump from the vertical walls.

The two cliffs are like the two Galapagos communities: the environmentalists and the local residents. They are upright, striking and quite separate. Foreign organizations live on one side of a chasm of misunderstand. Foreigners are utterly convinced that the human community must be limited, and now. To the locals, this is like advocating poverty, dwarfism and malnutrition. Their reasoning is like this: environmentalists come from outside, don't stay long and they are wealthy. After all, they are the only ones who can take the expensive cruises ($200-$700 per day), fly round trip from Europe or the US (another $1,000) and pay the Park fee ($100, soon to be a lot more). Since the tourists and non-profit employees have vast wealth, they can enjoy our natural treasures. We can't. We are not allowed to go to our own islands, unless we join a prohibitively expensive cruise. We are condemned by politically correct foreigners for being ignorant, for trashing the streets, for low scholastic achievement and for having too many children.

The term "Darwin Station" is a red flag to the bullish Galapaguenos. The fishermen, the most organized and angriest, attacked the Darwin offices a few years ago and would not hesitate to do it again.

How can the world's most famous environmental organization be a fund-raising monster and a local non-entity? Has it become influential in every corner of the world but one? In my Don Quixote manner, I imagined that I could bridge the gap. I thought that, if I only could interview local folks and tell their stories, then the first seed of reconciliation would occur. Like two feuding families, the two groups just need to find a little love. Surely the Montagues and Capulets will have some kids in love that will make the parents forgive and forget. If the Hatfields and McCoys see the travails in each home, won't they drop their anger?

I was wrong. The Darwin Station is not comfortable functioning in the community and the residents have no entry point into the world of the Station. While working at the Station, I was convinced that all I needed to do was to speak with local folks so as to diminish the suspicions that abound. I guess I was partially right, since many folks opened their hearts and minds.