When tourism becomes activism

Lara Lebleu recounts her experiences, and the work done on the Galapagos Islands to ensure that tourism benefits the unique species inhabiting the islands.

It is becoming increasingly challenging to read newspaper articles about the environment and not ask ourselves if we will ever be able to find a way to live in harmony with our planet. We ponder about the equation for success, the recipe that will balance the spice of our all-consuming need for growth and the array of subtler tastes that a healthy ecosystem provides. To all skeptics out there (or those uninspired by this culinary metaphor), the Galapagos Islands provide a glimpse of that exact equilibrium, or at least a first step towards it.

The Galapagos Islands are a volcanic archipelago in the Pacific Ocean 600 miles away from the continent. They are part of the Republic of Ecuador and designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1978. Famed for their endemic species, the Galapagos Islands are also known for being a crucial stop in 1835 on Charles Darwin’s journey aboard the HMS Beagle. Thus, it is unsurprising that they should be a prime tourist destination since the 1960s. With people comes the need for infrastructure and imported goods, which the government is trying to sustainably provide for the good of local communities and wildlife. From entry permits and fees to bag searches, anyone entering the islands is made very aware that these are precious and protected premises. 

These regulations stem from research by the Universidad San Francisco de Quito based in San Cristobal and the Charles Darwin research Station on Santa Cruz, the two most populated islands among the four which are currently inhabited. Tourists and locals are taught about the fragility of the islands, from the dangers of a foreign plant species stuck to the sole of one’s shoe to the importance of respecting a two-meter security distance with any animal encountered along the way. Because local authorities know to enforce these rules regardless of one’s desperate need for a selfie with a sea lion, we are baffled to find an ecosystem in which wildlife is not afraid. It does not run away or hide but thrives alongside humans. For what will be a first time for many of us, we go out of our way to let a marine iguana get to the water and are mindful not to leave plastic wrappers on the beach for marine turtles to come across. 

These regulations are not limited to the land only. The Galapagos Marine Reserve, created in 1998 by the Ecuadorian government along with the Galapagos Special Law, is monitored daily for the well-being of its extraordinary inhabitants. Resident species are not the only jewel on this crown as the archipelago is a popular stop along many migration routes. From migratory birds to whales, one is busy looking above and below at all times. The experience of encountering an elephant seal taking a nap on Isabela island before continuing on its way remains a highlight of my time there. 

Of course, what threatens the rest of the world is just as lethal for such fragile habitats. Mountains of plastic brought in by currents from Northeast Asia and overfishing around the marine reserve are some of the many dangers that authorities battle against. Despite being under pressure from rising tourism, locals have never been so mindful of supporting these efforts, with the help of the scientific community.  

Jorge, seated on a stool in front of the hostel he runs in Santa Cruz, speaks of his daily life, “Sometimes, I go out diving and I just sit on a rock at the bottom of the sea and watch as all the sharks, sea lions and other marine life swim past me”.  He knows the beauty of patience, as he bears witness to the changes in his home. The island, which he has never left, has become the most populated one in the archipelago. He has watched as locals have learned to accommodate protected species and the wave of tourists that they attract, with new pressures and professions arising from it. He cracks a smile as he remembers his childhood when the only connection to the outside world was a radio in the lighthouse, which some cheeky locals would often tune into. The small community shared everything, even secrets. Despite a prosperous business, he misses simpler times, when our societies were not so obsessed with growth. “Why?” we ask. Because living in a community where everyone helps each other “es lo mas bello de la vida” he says. That is what life is all about.

Visiting the Galapagos Islands is a privilege. Seeing its wildlife, meeting its people, learning its history and culture is an honour, but so it is for the rest of the world, pristine or not. Local governance, resident communities and tourists can work together to protect their environment. The Galapagos show that what this requires, however, is for us to stop and take a breath, like Jorge does, to look around and see what is going on. To accept that we have had better times, with the firm belief that we can learn from our mistakes to secure a better and more sustainable future.