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....