Genovesa Island
One of the outpost islands in the Galapagos, hanging out alone at the northeastern tip of the archipelago, this unassuming flat brown island is seabird paradise. Amidst clouds of soaring frigate birds the good ship Polaris sailed into the gaping caldera that is Darwin Bay to drop anchor in the morning sun. Mark and I have been helping the Galapagos National Park build up a photo documentation of the island’s wildlife, and Polaris graciously offered passage to and from the island at the very peak of the seabird courtship and nesting activity. Within mere paces of the tiny white coral landing beach graceful swallow-tailed gulls swoop and swoon over newly hatched fluffy chicks and jealously guarded eggs in coral lined nests. Red-footed boobies everywhere squawk and tug at bedraggled shrubs, plucking twigs and branches to build their nests, only to be harassed by marauding frigate birds intent on a similar objective by applying their aerial pirating skills. But the real attention grabbers are the spectacular male frigates dotting the landscape with their unreal giant red balloons. Fluttering their huge black wings enticingly while cooing loudly they are vying with one another to catch the eye of passing prospective mates overhead. In fact, the entire sky is a carousel of wings of all shapes and sizes, from the slender black frigates hanging weightless on the breeze to the dazzling while tropic birds criss-crossing high above the blue waters of the bay. To be here is to enter another world. In every respect, it is clear that Genovesa is the meeting point for oceanic birds who spend most of their lives scattered far and wide across the bountiful unbroken sea, answering the call to raise their families on this volcanic speck of land, a beacon of life in the Pacific. Here is an island where humans have as yet had no impact of any sort, a rare gem in the natural world, and to spend the day immersed within the complete trust of its wild denizens is a treat to be treasured for life.
One of the outpost islands in the Galapagos, hanging out alone at the northeastern tip of the archipelago, this unassuming flat brown island is seabird paradise. Amidst clouds of soaring frigate birds the good ship Polaris sailed into the gaping caldera that is Darwin Bay to drop anchor in the morning sun. Mark and I have been helping the Galapagos National Park build up a photo documentation of the island’s wildlife, and Polaris graciously offered passage to and from the island at the very peak of the seabird courtship and nesting activity. Within mere paces of the tiny white coral landing beach graceful swallow-tailed gulls swoop and swoon over newly hatched fluffy chicks and jealously guarded eggs in coral lined nests. Red-footed boobies everywhere squawk and tug at bedraggled shrubs, plucking twigs and branches to build their nests, only to be harassed by marauding frigate birds intent on a similar objective by applying their aerial pirating skills. But the real attention grabbers are the spectacular male frigates dotting the landscape with their unreal giant red balloons. Fluttering their huge black wings enticingly while cooing loudly they are vying with one another to catch the eye of passing prospective mates overhead. In fact, the entire sky is a carousel of wings of all shapes and sizes, from the slender black frigates hanging weightless on the breeze to the dazzling while tropic birds criss-crossing high above the blue waters of the bay. To be here is to enter another world. In every respect, it is clear that Genovesa is the meeting point for oceanic birds who spend most of their lives scattered far and wide across the bountiful unbroken sea, answering the call to raise their families on this volcanic speck of land, a beacon of life in the Pacific. Here is an island where humans have as yet had no impact of any sort, a rare gem in the natural world, and to spend the day immersed within the complete trust of its wild denizens is a treat to be treasured for life.
