“Hammerhead! Below you!”
This was not the Galapagos wildlife encounter I expected, but considering I’d already spotted five of the iconic “Big 15” animals between the airport and the seaport, run-ins with the 9,000 other species that inhabit the archipelago were as inevitable as they were unpredictable.
Nearly 200 years after Charles Darwin sailed through the Galapagos Islands on HMS Beagle, I boarded La Pinta, an expedition ship with 39 guests and 33 crew members — roughly the same soul count as Darwin’s vessel.
But our voyage wasn’t a retelling of Darwin’s diary with a luxurious slant.
Our four-night northern itinerary visited places Darwin never did or never could. From the misnomer of Darwin Bay to the lava fields that solidified after the famous naturalist’s arrival, the expedition team sought to show us the Galapagos beyond the Big 15.
With every exciting prediction of what awaited on Chinese Hat or Baltra Island came a reminder that a single camera flash, footprint, or piece of trash could immediately impact this enduring yet extremely delicate habitat.
Galapagos sustainability is achieved one step at a time
“This place is so dry that your footprint will stay there until the rains cover it…so maybe six months or even years.”
Dennis Ballesteros, our naturalist guide, gestured to the volcanic sand surrounding Bartolome Island’s wooden boardwalk. To think that a single sidestep off the designated path could disrupt the life of a lava lizard or lava cactus seems almost impossible to believe.
That is, until you realise that a series of seemingly insignificant events impacted the evolution of virtually all life throughout the archipelago. Even with strict guidelines limiting 1,840 people per day in the entire 7,800 square kilometre national park, our little group of nine could do serious damage through neglect or ignorance.
Ballesteros was born and raised in the Galapagos. He’s just as passionate about photographing his home as he is protecting it, which is why he never once danced around the consequences of our choices.
“It’s forbidden to use flash,” the wildlife photographer said. “It stresses the animals. After they stress, they will actually change their behaviour. Perhaps they won’t be there next time.”
Bartolome Island spoils shutterbugs. We posed in our panga (a type of small, open-top boat) with penguins only feet away, then swam alongside them. An astounding moment for sure, but also just a routine day in the Enchanted Isles.
Reef sharks joined our snorkel session on Tuesday; dozens of Nazca boobies waddled along with us on our Thursday hike.
When red-footed boobies nest at eye level and sea lions sunbathe at your feet, it’s easy to forget that our arguably low-impact presence can instantly wound this welcoming world. And, sadly, some damage can’t be reversed.
“When we see an animal in danger, we have to call the park rangers,” Ballesteros said. “Only a veterinarian can help the animal.”
Even with the best of intentions, a local and experienced naturalist like Ballesteros can’t intervene if a sea lion is tangled in marine debris or if a giant tortoise chomps on a piece of litter.
This ripple effect emanates from every decision, forcing Galapagos visitors to weigh the worth of the “perfect” photograph against the health and safety of everything beyond the lens.
Cruises in the Galapagos are as diverse and ever-evolving as the wildlife
Only 69 vessels authorised for touring the Galapagos have live-aboard permissions, though we rarely saw another ship on our journey from Santa Cruz to Santiago and Genovesa Islands.
La Pinta leans into lavishness with its hot tub, observation lounge, and fitness centre; amenities that Captain Robert FitzRoy and his Beagle crew could only dream of. But don’t expect the all-day buffet and casino perks of a traditional pleasure cruise.
You won’t find a TV in your seaview suite either because the Galapagos deserve your full attention, even when you shower and sit. La Pinta acknowledges its role in interacting with and impacting every element of the Galapagos.
“Everything has a different cycle,” hotel manager Gaby explained. “We want to give everything we can a new life.”
Even a single drop of water.
The ship’s internal system filters seawater into the water used by guests. All black and grey water produced (toilet paper is disposed of separately via bathroom trash cans) is then filtered again and released back into the sea.
To cut down on the filtration process itself, La Pinta sells reef-safe sunscreen, eco-friendly bug spray and stocks every bathroom with 100 per cent biodegradable body products recreated from a one–time extraction of Magnolia mashpi flowers.
These body lotions, shampoos, and shower gels — which are used across Metropolitan Touring’s other properties like Finch Bay Hotel on Santa Cruz Island — encourage visitors to take accountability for the way their daily decisions might harm the ecosystem of the archipelago.
Seeing the bigger picture in the Galapagos
No one dared move as the Galapagos short-eared owl waited for an unlucky storm petrel.
“Every three or four trips, we’re lucky to see one owl,” Ballesteros told us, only moments before we saw our third.
Watching this endemic species hunt is as unusual as it is to swim with dozens of hammerhead sharks — you could visit the Galapagos year after year and never encounter either animal.
Swimming with spotted eagle rays, making way for blue-footed boobies, and tiptoeing around giant tortoises is unforgettable. But when my mind wanders back to Eden Islet, Prince Philip’s Steps, or Sullivan Bay, I don’t tally up which of the Big 15 made it onto my camera roll.
Instead, I think about the dozens upon dozens of species I saw — and the dozens of opportunities I had to make a conscious effort to feel one with this natural world without wrecking it.
It’s easy to champion the Galapagos as a must-see destination; it’s even easier to lament how tourism is forever altering this beautiful place. Galapagos cruises are a prime example of adaptive radiation: like Darwin’s finches, each ship tries to diversify and specialise itself for survival.
La Pinta’s crew strives to evolve in ways that go beyond achieving a 100 per cent carbon-neutral voyage for every passenger. They promote the importance of traveller accessibility just as strongly as they strive to protect and preserve the national park.
“It was the last dream of a kid to come here before he died,” Ballesteros told us as we watched the birds of Genovesa Island care for their chicks. “He couldn’t walk, but we are not allowed to roll a wheelchair on the island.”
Ballesteros weighed a dying wish against a delicate ecosystem and made a decision.
“I picked eight crew members, we lifted the wheelchair, and we walked the whole way,” he told our teary-eyed group. “We were not impacting anything, and he had the best time of his life.”
The child died soon after.
“Our mission, from our hearts, is to make this the best experience for you all.”
I had a sense that Ballesteros wasn’t just talking to our small group; he was speaking to every form of life La Pinta had the privilege to encounter and the duty to protect.
Nick Dauk was a guest of Metropolitan Touring in April 2025.