Rábida: Brackish Lagoons and Flamingos

Our morning began before breakfast with a nature walk on Rábida Island, known for its deep red volcanic sands and its brackish lagoon. The lagoon is home to a small population of American flamingos, one of the Galápagos “Big 15” species. Our guides told us the odds of seeing them were low, so we considered ourselves fortunate to catch several wading gracefully in the shallows.

Among them was a juvenile with distinctive blue legs – a telltale sign of its age. We also got a good look at their black-tipped wings, which I never even knew existed. Flamingos, surprisingly strong fliers, most likely reached the Galápagos from mainland South America. One interesting fact the guides pointed out was how what looks like their knees are actually their ankles. They get their pink colour from their diet.

As we circled the lagoon, we passed a dead seal partially buried in the sand. It wasn’t clear what caused its death, but we didn’t speculate, but it was a stark reminder of the harsh realities of nature.

We returned to the ship for breakfast after our walk. One of the passengers had a health scare that morning; he collapsed on the ground as we were observing the flamingos due to low blood sugar. Thankfully, he recovered quickly. He was lucky that it didn’t happen when we were on more rugged terrain.

Glass-Bottom Boat Ride

After breakfast, we boarded a glass-bottom boat to observe marine life without getting wet. While it sounded ideal in theory, the reality proved less comfortable. The rocking of the boat while staring down made it easy to feel seasick.

Still, we managed to spot a vague silhouette of a shark, and a massive school of fish.

A sea turtle also came to say hi to us

Bartolomé: Snorkelling and Penguins

After lunch, we visited Bartolomé Island, a small but geologically striking islet famous for its towering volcanic spire, known as Pinnacle Rock. We began with a snorkelling session around the base of it.

After several days in the water, I started feeling more at ease, whereas before I never felt comfortable in the water, and this made the session much more enjoyable. We started to swim around the rock. The underwater scenery was rich with life: bright schools of fish, the occasional shark.

As I swam around the rock, I was busy looking around in the water, until I was suddenly startled by a sea lion sleeping near the surface. At first I panicked, but the sea lion paid us no mind. As it swam away, other snorkelers followed it.

Eventually we made it around the rock, and spotted some Galápagos penguins – another member of the “Big 15.” They stayed onshore this time, and we observed them resting on the rocks. It would have been school to swim in the water with them, but they didn’t jump in.

Later we found out that one snorkeller returned with rashes after being unknowingly stung by jellyfish (apparently from a few days ago, but didn’t the rashes didn’t appear immediately). None of us had realized jellyfish were in the water.

Volcanic Landscapes and Iconic Views

Later in the day, we hiked to the summit of Bartolomé to take in its famous view – the one often featured in postcards of the Galápagos. The trail was constructed with a special local hardwood known for its resistance to salt and corrosion. The path included many stairs, which made some hesitate, but was no problem for me. Funny thing is that the guide was panting harder than I was.

As we walked up, the black lava fields and stark, dry terrain stood in contrast to the more vegetated islands. Bartolomé is relatively barren, and is considered a geologically young island, having emerged from volcanic activity only a few hundred thousand years ago. Unlike older islands that have had time to accumulate soil and vegetation, Bartolomé’s surface is still largely exposed lava, ash, and tuff. Because it hasn’t developed significant plant cover or topsoil, its ecosystem remains in an early stage of ecological succession, providing a glimpse into what the earliest phases of island formation look like in the Galápagos.

Lava tubes scar the landscape – formed when the outer crust of a lava flow solidifies while the molten core continues to move. When the lava drains away, it leaves behind hollow tunnels. The ropey textures we saw on the ground were from lava flows, which cool into smooth, undulating surfaces.

The summit offers a sweeping view of Pinnacle Rock and the surrounding islets. From this vantage point, we could also see the contrast between the barren lava terrain of Bartolomé and the greener neighbouring islands like Santiago. The turquoise waters outlined the curves of the coastline, and we could spot sea birds gliding in the air currents.

After the hike, we took a short boat ride along the shoreline and spotted several more Galápagos penguins perched on the rocks. These curious birds seemed unfazed by our presence, occasionally flapping their wings or hopping between stones. We got to see a closer view compared to snorkeling.

Evening Science and Stargazing

Those who had opted out of the climb spent time with the ship’s naturalists collecting seawater samples. After dinner, they showed us the samples under a microscope. Even in just 3 mL of seawater, we saw fish eggs, miniscule shrimp-like creatures, and other microorganisms. Then I wondered how many of them I ingested from accidentally drinking the seawater while snorkeling.

Later that night, the skies cleared and we joined the guides on the top deck for a stargazing session. Thanks to our equatorial position, we could see both northern and southern constellations. The guide used a powerful laser pointer to trace the outlines of Scorpio, Libra, the Southern Cross, and even Ursa Major. They pointed out bright stars and planets like Antares, Alpha Centauri, and Beta Centauri. The clarity of the sky, with minimal light pollution, made the session feel so much richer than at a planetarium. This day was so much more than just wildlife. It combined also geology, and scientific curiosity.

See the photo albums to explore more of Rábida and Bartolomé.

Arriving in the Galápagos

Baltra’s arid, utilitarian appearance and developed municipal infrastructure contrasted with our mental image of a remote, untouched natural paradise. We would soon learn that while large portions of the archipelago are protected reserves, people actually live on some of the islands. Once we left the urban areas, we began to see the pristine nature of the islands.

The Galápagos has strict biosecurity protocols in place to preserve its delicate ecosystem. Visitors are not permitted to bring raw items like fresh fruit from the mainland, a necessary precaution to avoid introducing non-native species that could disrupt the islands’ fragile balance. In addition, all visitors must register with the Ecuadorian government prior to arrival and pay a park entry fee (included with the cruise), a process designed to regulate tourism and support conservation efforts. After passing through inspection, we boarded a bus that took us from the airport to a nearby pier. From there, we transferred to a zodiac – a rigid inflatable boat – which ferried us across to our cruise ship waiting offshore.

Life Onboard the Ship

Our ship, the Santa Cruz II, carried about 80 passengers. We were joining a group that had already been on board as part of a longer itinerary. Compared to our past experiences on Seabourn, this ship was a lot more modest. But as the expedition leader reminded us, the point of a Galápagos voyage is to spend as much time as possible off the ship, exploring.

There were no locks on our stateroom doors. We simply closed them behind us whenever we left. In an environment like this, where isolation and shared purpose define the experience, security concerns seem almost out of place. Each of us also received a waterproof backpack and a reusable bottle made from reclaimed ocean-bound plastic – a thoughtful gesture in line with the region’s conservation ethos.

We also began to meet our fellow passengers, many of whom came from the UK, Australia, and Canada. The demographic leaned older, with many retirees onboard, and we found ourselves among the youngest people on the ship. Everyone was friendly and curious, and conversations often revolved around past travels, conservation, and natural history. Dining onboard was communal by default – assigned seating was not the norm – so we rarely had a chance to eat on our own. This format naturally led to many interactions and opportunities to hear stories from all walks of life.

The Big 15 of the Galápagos

After spending the first few hours on the ship getting acquainted with it and going through the safety lectures, the expedition crew introduced us to the Galápagos Big 15 – a list of the most iconic and unique wildlife species in the islands. These include creatures such as the blue-footed booby, Galápagos albatross, and marine iguana. Some, like the Galápagos tortoise and flightless cormorant, exist nowhere else on Earth.

First Landing: Las Bachas, Santa Cruz Island

That same afternoon, we prepared for our first excursion: a wet landing at Las Bachas beach on Santa Cruz Island. A wet landing involves disembarking directly into the water about knee deep and wading up to the shore – a practical approach given the lack of deepwater docks in the Galápagos. The sand here was strikingly white and soft, composed largely of decomposed coral that had been broken down by wave action, fish, and natural erosion over time – a common process in tropical marine environments where coral reefs dominate the coastal ecosystem.

The terrain transitioned quickly from beach to rocky outcrops, with jagged volcanic rock underfoot. These islands were formed by a volcanic hotspot beneath the Nazca Plate, and the evidence of their fiery origins is everywhere – from the black basalt fields to the jagged cliffs that define much of the coast.

First Wildife Encounters

Our first encounter with Galápagos Big 15 came quickly: marine iguanas. Unique among lizards, these reptiles forage for algae underwater and can remain submerged for several minutes at a time. Their flattened tails help them swim, and they often warm themselves on the rocks after a dive. As they expel excess salt through specialised nasal glands, white crystalline patches form around their mouths – a distinctive trait that gives them a crusted appearance. Their dark colouring provides camouflage against the lava, though it also makes spotting them more challenging.

They are the only sea-foraging lizards in the world, and they use their strong, clawed feet to cling to rocks on the seafloor while feeding. Their sharp claws help them grip submerged volcanic surfaces as they graze on marine algae, even amid ocean swells and currents. This adaptation allows them to dive and walk along the bottom rather than swim continuously, conserving energy as they feed on algae growing on submerged rocks and reefs along the Galápagos coast.

Great frigatebirds soared above, using rising columns of warm air known as thermals to gain altitude with barely a wingbeat. The males of this species are known for their red throat pouch, which they inflate during mating displays.

As we moved along the beach and volcanic rock, we came a great blue heron standing on the black basalt. – it’s one of the largest wading birds in the archipelago. With its long neck and dagger-like bill, the heron watched the shallows for any movement. These birds hunt by remaining still for extended periods before striking quickly at fish or crustaceans in the intertidal zone.

The lava gull is endemic to the Galápagos and is considered one of the rarest gulls in the world. It has a dark head, sooty brown body, and a sharp bill, and it often scavenges or opportunistically steals food from other birds and even humans.

This small, dark heron is frequently seen stalking the shallows with deliberate steps, as shown here on an algae-covered rock. They blend in well with the coastal environment and are skilled fishers, often remaining perfectly still before darting at prey.

This brightly coloured songbird stands out starkly against the dark volcanic rock. Male yellow warblers are especially easy to spot due to their vivid plumage and are often heard before they are seen, thanks to their high-pitched, melodic calls.

Vivid Sally Lightfoot crabs clung to the stones, with their red and orange shells flashing brightly against the dark rock. In the past some local communities and visiting sailors did eat these crabs, though they were not a staple food source due to their small size and challenging preparation.

Dotted along the sand were small, round holes were their burrows. They crabs dig into the soft coral sand to create sheltered retreats where they can hide from predators and the heat of the sun. At the first sign of movement, they scuttled quickly back into these holes, disappearing with remarkable speed.

Lava lizards darted between rocks. These reptiles are sexually dimorphic, with males often displaying more vibrant colours and performing push-up displays to assert dominance or attract mates. They play an important role in the island ecosystem, helping to control insect populations and contributing to seed dispersal through occasional plant consumption. This makes them both predator and passive participant in the island’s delicate ecological balance.

Though we didn’t see any sea turtles, we came across their tracks, which nest on Las Bachas. The beach gets its name from the remnants of American military barges abandoned here after World War II. Though the rusting metal is long gone, the name “Las Bachas”—a corruption of “barges” – remains.

After our walk, we had a chance to swim. We brought our own goggles and explored just below the surface. Though we hadn’t been issued our full snorkelling gear yet, the visibility was decent. We managed to spot a curious eel weaving through the rocks and a shy pufferfish hovering near the seabed.

Night-Time Hunters Beneath the Hull

That evening, we mistakenly ended up at the German-language briefing for the next day’s excursion. I had listened to the German announcement, thinking that was where we were supposed to go and in my mind I didn’t even realize I was mixing up the langauges. We got a laugh out of the mix-up later.

We were told by other travelers that at night, we may get to see animals following the light of the boat. We took a peek and got to see some pelicans lingering near the stern, using the artificial glow to spot fish drawn to the illumination. Below them, we caught glimpses of reef sharks weaving in and out of the light, using the same opportunity to hunt more efficiently.

Unlike most cruises where the first day is reserved for settling in, we dove straight into exploration. From the very first landing, the Galápagos began unfolding its natural complexity, offering glimpses into an ecosystem both ancient and finely balanced.

See the full photo album from our first day in the Galápagos here.

When Mother Nature Changes the Itinerary

Our Antarctic expedition came to a slightly premature end as the weather took a turn for the worse. Throughout our journey, the expedition crew had repeatedly mentioned their multiple contingency plans—Plan A, B, C, D, and so on – and up until the final days, we had been fortunate enough to stick with Plan A. However, our luck eventually ran out.

The captain informed us that another cruise ship operating in the area was already heading back across the Drake Passage and experiencing exceptionally rough waters. With conditions deteriorating rapidly, the crew made the difficult decision to cancel the final day of our expedition, and head back to Ushuaia a day early.

Time for the Drake Shake

We were lucky enough to get the Drake Lake on the way there, but now it was time for the Drake Shake. We felt quite disappointed initially about missing our last day in Antarctica. However, as we began our journey back through the Drake Passage, we quickly understood the wisdom behind the crew’s decision.

Crossing the Drake Passage meant traversing approximately 700 nautical miles (~1,296 km) of open ocean. We encountered winds of 60 knots (approximately 111 km/h) and waves reaching heights of 9 metres according to windy.com. These conditions were so severe that the ship’s pool and hot tubs were closed.

The waves grew so intense that during lunch, we heard crashing sounds from the kitchen, followed by an announcement that they needed to remake all our meals. The staff didn’t even bother taking drink orders, as there was no hope of keeping anything on the tables. Walking anywhere in a straight line became impossible – it felt like spending two straight days on a perpetual pirate ship ride. Even in our sleep we tumbled around.

The crew was having trouble with seasickness too, but unlike us, they had to work. The expedition crew were scared that the waves would get worse had we stayed the extra day. Fortunately, we had taken precautions by starting seasickness medication before entering the Drake Passage.

Significance of Nautical Miles

Despite the rough waters, the crew made sure we stayed entertained. They organized various games, with each department hosting different activities. The food and beverage team challenged us to guess the price of wines and identify spices by taste. One activity was a navigational challenge.

We had to predict our future position based on speed and heading. Our original location was marked on a paper map, and we were told our speed and heading, and had to predict where we would be 5 hours from now and that value would be compared with the crew’s estimate. After I asked some clarifying questions, he explained that our heading had already accounted for wind, since it was possible the desired heading might not be the same as the actual heading.

The thing is he told me our speed in knots. How fast is a knot? Apparently it’s one nautical mile an hour. Okay how far is one nautical mile? The answer: longitude and latitude lines divide Earth into 180 degrees between each hemisphere (with 360 degrees around the circumference), with each degree divided into 60 minutes. The length of each minute along the earth’s curvature is equal to one nautical mile – by extension each degree is 60 nautical miles long. The whole cruise (and any cruise for that matter), the crew would always cite distances in nautical miles and speeds in knots, and now it makes sense.

So to predict the future position, it was a matter of knowing how many nautical miles we’d have traveled after 5 hours, convert that to lat/long and mark it on the map. The crew member thought my guess was “pretty good”, but I could have done better I was more careful with the ruler.

Winning at Trivia (A Little Too Often)

Throughout the cruise, the ship hosted trivia games. We did better than expected in our first game, and apparently another team noticed, and they recruited us into their team (the cleverly named “Kriller Instincts”). And, by sheer luck, they were really strong too, and together we won about half the games we played. With each repeat win, the more we would hear other regular trivia goers tease, “oh them again?” – only because there were prizes involved! We won hats, luggage cubes, but best of all on the last day, we won penguin plushies! Later, we traded a penguin for a polar bear.

One of the questions they asked was what the garnish was in a Gibson Martini (hint not an olive) – the answer was pearl onions. I got curious so I ordered one at the bar as part of my daily cruise routine of trying a different drink each time.

When I ordered it, it took them a while to make it. To my amusement it was because they had to get pearl onions from the galley. The onions in the drink – not good – now we know why the bar didn’t have pearl onions.

Caviar Party

Eventually some time on the second day of crossing the Drake Passage as we got nearer to Argentina, the water calmed. The ship hosted a caviar party, serving the delicacy on crackers. This was really cool – I knew I was on a luxury cruise, but I didn’t think we’d get caviar! We did get to try some during our earlier meals, but they were garnishes on some meals, as opposed to the quantity being served on each cracker.

One of the earlier trivia questions asked what material a spoon must use for serving caviar, and the answer mother of pearl (makes up the inner layer of oyster shells). It’s used because it does not affect the flavour of caviar like a metal spoon would. I asked them about the spoon, and indeed it was made of mother of pearl.

Our cruise lasted almost two weeks, and I wondered how they were able to prepare fresh food the whole time. Other cruises are able to stop at ports and reload supplies, but our ship needed to bring all of its supplies from the beginning. I couldn’t find any decisive information on this, but I suspect they do a combination of using fridges that they only open infrequently, and use vegetables with longer shelf lives.

No Refueling at Sea

Not only do they have to bring all the food with them from the beginning, they have to bring the fuel too. Earlier on the trip, the captain had explained to me that the ship still runs on fossile fuels, despite our best efforts in trying to keep the Antarctic environment as pristine as possible. I figured it wouldn’t be anything electric or solar – that tech isn’t ready for cruise ships yet – so it had to be some sort of fossil fuel.

Not only was the fuel used to cross the sea, the ship also used fuel to maintain its position while we went out on our excursions. Traditional vessels can drop anchor to stay in one spot, but this ship used GPS to monitor its position and used its propellers to counter the water current to keep the ship in place. Not having to drop an anchor prevents damage to the reefs growing on the sea floor.

An Extra Day in Ushuaia

Finally, we arrived back in Ushuaia. We had the option of spending the day in Ushuaia, but we quickly discovered that Ushuaia offered limited activities. Though, there were a few tours to nearby islands for penguin watching, but we already experienced something far richer than that.

We took a brief walk around the town, which lasted about an hour before we returned to the ship. To us, Ushuaia’s primary purpose seemed to be serving as a transit point for Antarctic expeditions. But for the Argentinian government, they maintained a military presence in the area – perhaps a way to get ready to enforce their continued claims on the Falkland Islands.

The People Who Made Our Journey Special

One of the highlights of our expedition was the diverse group of people we met. Everyone seemed eager to chat, and the shared experience of such an extraordinary adventure created an atmosphere of camaraderie, especially with our trivia team with whom we won so much.

The staff also got to know us well, and although for them it was simply their job, they consistently went beyond basic service.

One staff member, who served us in our frequent visits to the sushi bar, created a latte with “sushi” written in the foam as a special touch. These small gestures made us feel that they genuinely cared about our experience.

A Different Kind of Travel

This journey showed us that travel doesn’t always need to centre around visiting cities. There’s an incredible world of natural wonders waiting to be explored in remote locations. Talking with fellow passengers, they introduced us to ideas for future trips, such as the Northwest Passage, the Amazon Rainforest, the Galápagos Islands, Polynesian island-hopping cruises, and Serengeti National Park, among others.

People sometimes refer to Antarctica as the “madhouse at the end of the world,” and after experiencing its brutal conditions both on the water and on the continent, I understand why. What we endured clearly is only a small fraction of what the early explorers faced – like Shackleton, whose expedition was stranded in the Antarctic for over a year.

The expedition drew a fascinating mix of travellers, including an elderly man with a cane who insisted on going ashore. Despite the rocky beaches, the expedition crew assisted him each time, ensuring he could step foot on Antarctica.

The next morning after our day in Ushuaia, we boarded flights back to Buenos Aires. As our cruise came to an end, we exchanged hugs, handshakes, and contact information with our new friends. The farewells were bittersweet.

Antarctica remains a place of pristine beauty and remarkable wildlife, and I’m grateful to be fortunate enough to visit it. Even with modern expedition ships, specialized clothing, and experienced guides, the White Continent remains fundamentally untamed – a place where humans are always guests, never masters.