Non-Essential: Galapagos III

The Galapagos Islands remind you that you’re a member of a nonessential species on the planet. But they also bring home the fact that the planet and its ecosystems are essential to you. We tend to stride over the earth as if we really do “have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth….” (Genesis: 1:26) And we do, in fact, have the power and the means to dominate much of the natural world, to extinguish other species, to make the earth uninhabitable for humankind.

The Galapagos have been conveying the true relationship of nature to humans and vice versa since they were discovered in 1535. Bishop Berlanga reported their inhospitable characteristics so far as human beings were concerned. In the 16th C., what made land desirable were first mineral riches—gold, silver, copper—followed by indigenous populations to provide labor to exploit the riches or to work agricultural land, in the case that mineral riches weren’t available. (And of course, to bring into the Christian fold as part of the ongoing crusade to prepare for the second coming…but I digress.)

When humans stopped by—as did the occasional merchant ship, pirate and later, whaler—they did so to take on water and provision with such meat as could be hunted or carried. Fur seals and sperm whales were the attraction to being in the vicinity. No one worried much about conserving stocks for the needs of the next ship, much less future generations. Case in point: the whaling ship Essex, of Herman Melville fame, put into Floreana in 1820 to pick up some tortoises to augment its food supply. Whether as amusement or to facilitate the hunt, the crew set the island on fire. In doing so, they managed to almost entirely eradicate the tortoises on the island.

Whalers and fur sealers ransacked the archipelago. According to the Galapagos Conservancy, “Sperm whale, fur seal, and giant tortoise populations declined precipitously during the 19th century. By 1890, the Galapagos Fur Seal was considered commercially extinct.… Between 1784 and 1860, whalers took more than 100,000 tortoises from the islands…. The California Academy of Science 1905-06 expedition found that tortoises were very scarce on Española and Fernandina; by 1974, Pinta was added to the list of islands where tortoises could not be found. ”

Fish market, Pto. Ayora, Santa Cruz

By the time of the California Academy studies, settlement of the islands was making headway.  Added to the environmental pressure caused by species depletion through hunting came habitat destruction due to human activities.

Floreana was settled first, in the 1830s.  Domestic livestock was brought in to support the colony and highland forests were cut for pasture and cropland. When the colony ultimately failed, it left behind a devastated landscape no longer fit to sustain Floreana’s native wildlife.

But the scientific interest in the archipelago aroused by Charles Darwin’s visit in 1835 continued to seep out into the world, even as small groups of people emigrated from the mainland to find a life harvesting tortoise oil, or salt, or fish. In 1959, Ecuador created a national park to protect the archipelago, expanded by a marine reserve added in 1998. The protected area was further extended with a marine sanctuary decreed in 2016. Conservation and protection were enhanced by designation of the archipelago as a World Heritage Site in 1979; the archipelago and its immense marine reserve are considered  a unique “living museum and showcase of evolution” by UNESCO.

The Ecuadoran National Park Service has worked with the Charles Darwin Foundation (CDF) since the beginning in 1959, thanks to an agreement with the Ecuador’s Government. The CDF’S Darwin Research Center has a mandate to pursue and maintain collaborations with government agencies by providing scientific knowledge and technical assistance to promote and secure conservation of Galapagos.

UNESCO raised a warning flag in 2007, when tourism development and immigration pressures were threatening the islands, by including the archipelago on its list of World Heritage in Danger. It was a warning that Ecuador heeded, to the extent that in 2010, the Galapagos were removed from the endangered list. Strict rules govern tourist visits to the islands; fishing is stringently regulated; and research efforts have incorporated sustainability of human activity into investigations—in other words, research into how humankind might live in balance with the natural world.

All of which is to say that the Galapagos experience offers a model of how our species might redefine its approach to, and place in, the world on which we live. It’s actually an old model, since most indigenous peoples have used it for eons. It recognizes that in order for us to survive, we have to contribute to and protect the survival of the rest of the natural world.

We humans are arguably ecologically unnecessary. Think about that for a moment. So far as ecosystems go, we seem to have a place only as a top predator, which is one of the least important positions on the web of life. If we all disappeared tomorrow, the worst that could happen to the rest of creation would be that our leftover garbage would get in its way for a time… Certainly the Galapagos Islands got along without us quite nicely until 1535; currents and winds brought life to the islands against incredible odds, and it thrived and reformed and worked out a unique ecosystem. We are privileged today to walk through it, to catch a glimpse of what an existence devoid of humankind might look like… to recognize, in all humility, our proper place in the scheme of things.

[For anyone interested in the work of the Charles Darwin Research Center and Foundation, check out https://www.darwinfoundation.org/en/; this is the English language link.]

Power of Change: Galapagos II

Among the many things that the Galapagos Islands have to show us is the magic and the miracle of our planet, its power to shape and form, its power of change. We forget the power of our earth at our peril.

In September of 1985, I was sleeping in an apartment in Mexico City when the rumbling of an especially large truck going by on the periferico woke me up. Except it took way too long to pass… I rolled out of bed and braced in a doorframe in the realization that what was shaking the building was an earthquake. Innocent as I was, when it stopped I went on with my usual routine. Earthquakes weren’t all that unusual, though this one had seemed awfully long-lived. It wasn’t until I got out onto Avenida Reforma, a block away on the far side of the ring road, that I saw the damage that 3 - 4 minutes of earth movement wreaked: frontless buildings displayed the interiors of offices and apartments; partially collapsed structures dotted the avenue… I caught a cab for my downtown appointment, still disoriented as to how to proceed.

The cabbie and I traveled down Reforma. As the damage along the avenue got worse and worse, we gradually realized how our reality had shifted. When we reached the area I was going, the office where I was supposed to be wasn’t there any more:  a mountain of rubble piled on the ground was all that was left of the structure. Across the street, the remains of a hotel burned. I considered asking the cabbie to turn around, just as he told me he needed to drop me; he needed to get to his neighborhood to find out how his family had fared.

Simply, in less than 5 minutes, the entire cityscape had changed irrevocably; some 5000 lives had ended, or were ending in darkness, under tons of concrete. No one who was there remained unscarred. Too many had forgotten, or ignored, the physical limits the planet imposes, the physical demands it makes. It is never in stasis, it is ever altering.

The Galapagos Islands offer a graphic laboratory of this characteristic of our planet. They're geologically quite young, created by overheated magma meeting the Nazca plate. As the plate drags itself across the hot spot, the extra heat melts the crust, causing volcanoes to emerge from the ocean, seemingly out of nowhere. The volcanoes erupt to form islands.

Sitting some 600 miles out to sea from Ecuador, they remained unsettled for much of the period after they were officially—and inadvertently—discovered by the Dominican friar, Fray Tomás de Berlanga, Bishop of Panama, in early 1535. His account describes the giant tortoises and cacti, the inhospitable terrain, and the difficulty of finding water, hardly an inviting prospect for homesteading.

The early Spaniards reportedly called the islands Las Encantadas, the Enchanted (or perhaps, Cursed) Isles, because strong changeable currents made them seem to shift location. Or maybe, because volcanic eruption and uplift changed their forms, suggesting something other than what had been seen before.

This activity is no less present today than it was in the past. There should be no particular surprise at smoke appearing from the top of the volcano on Fernandina, youngest of the islands.  A volcanic burp, so to speak: a little ash rolled out, and a light plume of vapor rose into the sky. The Galapagos Conservancy reports that as recently as 1968, there was an explosive eruption that collapsed the caldera of Fernandina’s La Cumbre Volcano, causing it to fall  approximately 350 m.

Nearby Isabela Island is a conjunction of six shield volcanoes that shape its land mass into a form that from above looks much like a seahorse. At Urbina Bay, in 1954, 6 km. of coral reef was raised up 5 m [15 feet] by volcanic action, stranding coral heads above sea level. The new coastline was more than a km away from where it had been. There is little left of the coral heads, which have deteriorated from exposure to the air, but here and there, some small shell reminds you that you’re standing on what was 15 feet under the ocean within your lifetime! This creation of new land, emerging in a very short period from where wave and wind had reigned, serves as an exclamation point on our approach to the natural world even more than volcanic eruption or earthquake.

The earth has its own dynamic. It is absolutely indifferent to human kind. In our arrogance and ignorance, we are capable to destroying ecosystems and elements that we need to survive. But the planet will go on, with or without us. Change happens, whether or not we wish it. The sea floor may rise, or the oceans may rise; neither is remotely affected by whether the occurrence is favorable or unfavorable to our species.

Indeed, species come and go. The Galapagos remind us that we are, in the end, just one of many species. Our success and survival aren’t foreordained. And the planet doesn't care whether we're here or not....

In Time and Place: Galapagos I

Galapagos naturalist guides refer often to the Galapagos archipelago as “paradise.” This evokes the biblical garden, where, we are led to imagine, all was harmony. Except, of course, for the one prohibition, and the snake that tempted Eve to ignore the prohibition. Leaving aside for a moment all questions pertaining to the presence of that snake (which would involve a digression of major proportions!), let’s look at the tree of knowledge.

It seems particularly apropos that a tree grows in the Galapagos island paradise—elsewhere as well, but that’s another story—called the “poison apple tree” (manchineel or manzanilla de la muerte, little apple of death). It produces a little green apple-like fruit. The tree looks unremarkable, with rounded green leaves. However, you are warned to touch no part of it, not leaf, not branch, not fruit. The naturalists accord it great respect; in the highland mist, a guide steered us away from its deceptively attractive cover against falling drizzle. The mist could collect traces of the poisonous sap, he said, and carry it to fall on our susceptible human skin… It offers no harm to the non-human species that may alight in its branches or feed on its fruit.

If you think about that tree in that environment, it's a fairly clear case where, if you defy the prohibition, consequences will be swift and painful, and possibly, lethal.

Otherwise, the islands’ flora and fauna are mostly benign, with few exceptions. There is a venomous Galapagos Black Widow spider. According to the Galapagos Conservation Trust, there’s no record of a human being bitten, but the spider “is probably best avoided.” (It’s endemic to the archipelago, but there’s little information on line about it. The Galapagos Archipelago is home to 150 known spider species, 60% of which are found nowhere else. The Black Widow is the only one mentioned as possibly being harmful to humans.)

A different threat is the Darwin’s Goliath Centipede. It can be as large as 43 cm and is likely the most feared animal in the islands. It’s a nocturnal hunter, withdrawing into arid zone cracks and crevices during the day.  Insects, lizards and even small birds are its prey, taken by a poisonous bite from a large pair of jaws. Galapagos hawks, night herons and mockingbirds hunt it, in turn. The Conservancy says that its bite isn’t lethal to humans "but is very painful.”

Finally, there are the two species of Galapagos Scorpions. Both are relatively common but “neither has a particularly serious sting for humans.” They hunt at night, preying on other invertebrates which they seize in their claws and sting to death.

That’s it. The four snake species are dangerous for hatchling marine iguanas, but not for humans. They have a mild venom that helps to disable their prey so they can apply the constriction which is their primary weapon. (For an exciting illustration of this particular survival struggle, checking out  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rv9hn4IGofM is worthwhile!)

All of which suggests that the locals’ characterization of the islands as paradise—or at least, a paradise—may not be too far off.  Especially if you replace “harmony,” with its romantic connotations, with the word “balance,” a more neutral concept.

A week in the archipelago isn’t nearly sufficient to claim knowledge of them; it’s no more than a taste, a passing whiff, a glimpse. But as the characteristic sands of each island’s shore endure your passing footstep for the moment they must, the rhythm of the place gradually takes hold. Sea lion pups frolic on the rocks, waiting for their mothers to come in from hunting off shore; little ones may come sniff at you, nudge a walking stick or a leg. Frigate birds, both Great and Magnificent, engage in courting, breeding, nesting, brooding, feeding young… and dying.

Once mature, there isn’t much to harm the denizens of the Galapagos in the way of natural predators. But every fledgling or immature creature won’t make it to maturity. Beside the trail on North Seymor, a young frigate bird lay motionless on its side. It was alive, but showed no interest in passing feet. For whatever reason, its survival was unlikely, lying there, though no vultures or gulls would finish it off. The crabs might come for its flesh, once it began to fester after death, but it might just slowly dry out and disintegrate in sun and wind. After the group moved on, it lifted its head and gazed around. It didn’t seem to be resisting its condition, just taking a last look before it again dropped its head to the ground and went on with its dying.

Live and let live; die and let die. All things in their time and place. Some hatchling iguanas make it to the rocks; others feed the snakes that converge to try to feed on them. Some frigates grow to breed; some die, unable to manage their great wings for effective flight. The gift of the Galapagos isn’t swimming with sea lions, or approaching tortoises to view their somehow grumpy faces up close and personal. It’s seeing how our world could be, if we allowed nature to take its course without harvesting more than we need, without poisoning the land and water we share with other creatures.

The islands are, in fact, an intimation of Paradise.

October's Close 2018

Today is the first of the Days of the Dead. In Mexico, it’s a time for creating altars to deceased loved ones in remembrance. Many small villages practiced a tradition of scattering flowers to mark the way from grave to door, an invitation to the spirits to visit, catch up on the latest doings. 

Altar from 2016

Since living in Mexico and learning about this tradition, if I’m home at this time of year, I like to gather items my dead enjoyed and arrange them around photographs and candles, inviting my departed to stop in. It didn’t happen this year; I thought about it, then let something else take my attention. Yesterday I realized why. It's a comfort to know that my parents, who were deeply engaged in political action, are not here to see what’s happening to our country. It’s a relief that a cousin by marriage who experienced life under a fascist regime in Europe, is resting in his grave. Another beloved relative with whom I enjoyed no end of argument is spared seeing what “conservative” has been reduced to.

Race. Politics. Religion. All have become distorted in our current reality. Each apparently supported an attack last week, amidst the turmoil of the approaching mid-term election.

On Wed., Oct. 24, a man in Kentucky went off the rails and after failing to get past the doors of a predominantly black church, went into a grocery store and shot a black man in the head. Then he went into the store’s parking lot and shot a black woman. A white witness reported that the alleged shooter, Gregory Bush, told him, “Please don’t shoot me and I won’t shoot you. Whites don’t shoot whites.”

CNN reports on pipe bombs

Meanwhile, a series of pipe bombs addressed to targets of the president’s rants (Barak Obama, CNN, Hillary Clinton, George Soros, etc.) were discovered from New York to Florida. They were allegedly made and sent by one of the president’s super fans, judging by the van that belonged to him and pictures he’d had taken at Trump rallies.

Finally, on Sat., Oct. 27, a shooter went into the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburg and shot eleven people before engaging in a gun battle with police that left him wounded, but alive and in custody. This shooting apparently served two objectives: an attack on Jews because they were Jews, and an attack on Jews because they extended aid to refugees trying to cross our borders.

When this president was elected, I hoped it was an aberration, a protest against an admittedly flawed Democratic candidate. (I’m not saying Hillary Clinton wasn’t qualified, but we all knew at the outset she was carrying a lot of baggage; anecdotally, I know several people who didn’t like Trump, but just couldn’t vote for Clinton). I prayed that people had ignored his rhetoric as nonsense, “just Donald being Donald,” and that they, like me, hoped that’s all it was: rhetoric. 

But we’ve seen, over the past two years, that the president’s rhetoric is a tool he wields with purpose. His calculated claims are like mold on the body politic. No one is scraping it off, so it spreads, filament by filament. Now we’re hearing the president say that he can unilaterally repeal a constitutional provision—citizenship as a birthright: “we can do this by an executive order,” he said on the lawn of the White House on Halloween. Cherry-picking bits and pieces of past actions, he tried to justify the basis for such an assertion, using unapologetically imaginary numbers.

Proponents of the president point to the promises he’s kept. “Less government regulation,” they say; good for business. Except a closer look shows that instead of applying a scalpel, his administration has slashed regulations imposed for the health and safety of citizens along with marginally necessary rules. “Stopped China from cheating!” But his tariffs are causing harm to average Americans, from family farmers to lobster fishermen, and he seems unwilling to negotiate in good faith. As to standing up to foreign countries and America being Number 1—by disrupting our alliances, we now seem to be first in a line that didn’t exist until we turned an international united front into a single file line. We may be in the first position, but it’s like being the first domino in a string of dominoes: if we’re pushed, no one stands beside us for support. Instead, we stand alone, and if we fall, it will be against the next block, and so on until all lie prone.

Watching a segment from a presidential rally, I was struck by this president’s cynical dismissal of his audience’s intelligence. I’ve heard some reports that among attendees are folks just there for the show; whether they actually support him is open to question. But clearly many of those chanting in his crowds do support him. 

I’ve tried to engage some of them in conversation on line. It’s an eye opener. 

For example, I posted the following on a Trump page: “This country was based on the understanding that everyone has different views, and from honest and open debate about issues, we can reach solutions to problems that consider the complex factors of a diverse population living in diverse environments. So the fact that ‘no one is going to hand’ the administration its agenda without debate and questioning is exactly the POINT of our democracy. Let's keep it by voting for candidates who think deeply and ask questions.”

It generated responses like “STAND BY OUR MAN, DONALD JOHN TRUMP. VOTE RED ALL THE WAY” and  “I might do that but first, do three things for me and 63 million other Republicans. Open Obama's records, Do not send unarmed soldiers to the border, send an armed deterrent, and thirdly arrest Hillary Clinton and Eric Holder for Treason!”  While there were also murmurs of agreement, I couldn’t find any comment that responded to my point. So much for discussion.

Now the president of the United States, who swore an oath to uphold the Constitution, is threatening to issue an executive order directly contrary to a Constitutional provision. I get that complex times inspire fear. People look to a leader who can steer them safely through. But this time, it’s looking more and more like folks don’t want a leader; they want a dictator. There's a strong current that, rather than embracing the opportunities of change, seize on demagogic expressions of certainty. "What he says," the president's supporters seem to be saying--without examining what, exactly, he says, hearing it only as what they want to hear.

Two years ago, I asked the country to chose hope, not fear. It didn’t. We have another chance now, an opportunity to curb the irrationalism and scrape away the filaments of authoritarianism before they take hold. Fear does NOT make you free! We’re so much stronger together confronting whatever may come than we are divided against each other in the service of our worst fears and instincts. 

Please vote! And vote blue, because at this point, it’s the only defense—the only wall, as it were—against the narcissist in the White House. Any illusions that may have existed as to hyperbole, or rhetoric, are long gone. If the Republic is to stand as our forbearers intended it, we have to stand for the Republic.