Buccaneer Cove: Of Pirates, Gold, and Birds

One of our first stops was Buccaneer Cove, a site with a storied past. This cove on Santiago Island earned its name from the British pirates and privateers who are said to have used the area as a hideout in the 17th and 18th centuries. While records are murky, tales persist of pirates burying their treasures on the islands, with some modern locals claiming that sudden, unexplained wealth might be due to hidden gold discoveries. Some even say that treasure hunters still try their luck in the archipelago, but much of the island is off limits as part of the nature reserve.

We also learned an intriguing theory from one of our guides: a few pirates may have sketched the various finch species they encountered here. While the link to Darwin is speculative, it adds colour to the idea that knowledge of Galápagos finches existed before Darwin’s famous visit in 1835.

Reading the Rocks and Skies

The cliffs at Buccaneer Cove were a patchwork of rock layers, formed by successive volcanic events. The prominent soft rock here is called tuff – a light, porous stone made from compacted volcanic ash. Though it appears sturdy, it crumbles easily and is unsuitable for climbing – ironically not tough at all.

White splashes of dried seabird guano marked active nesting areas, and sure enough, we spotted swallow-tailed gulls resting nearby. These gulls have unusually large eyes adapted for night vision, allowing them to hunt squid and fish by moonlight. Their red eye-ring and soft, grey plumage made them easy to recognize as they perched calmly along the cliff edges.

Blue-footed boobies also dotted the cliffside. These birds are known for their vivid turquoise-blue feet. Despite being skilled divers and fliers, they move with an awkward, waddling gait on land that makes them oddly endearing. Their nesting behaviour, typically right on bare rock or sand, makes them easy to spot during the breeding season. Potential mates evaluate their “blueness” as it is an indicator of their health. A more intense blue coloration is a sign of better nutrition, health, and immune function.

A curious sea lion followed us part of the way, occasionally surfacing to watch. Like many animals in the Galápagos, it didn’t beg for food or flee at our approach. It simply seemed to want to know what we were doing.

As we continued along the coast, we passed two distinct natural formations. One was what our guide called a ‘prayer rock’—a rounded boulder that looked carefully placed, almost as if set down with intention. The smoothness of its surface and its balanced placement made it look like a deliberate monument, though entirely shaped by nature.

Nearby, the so-called ‘elephant rock’ resembled the head and trunk of an elephant carved naturally over time by wind and sea. Its resemblance was uncanny enough that even at a distance, the shape immediately stood out against the cliffside.

We also glimpsed rays moving below in loose formations, visible only as yellow blurs swimming across beneath the surface. At one point, we caught sight of a land iguana resting near a scrubby outcrop. Our guide noted how lucky we were to see it in that area, since land iguanas are not often spotted from this route and typically stay hidden in less accessible terrain.

Exploring the Cove by Kayak

Later, we had the chance to kayak around the cove. I had tandem kayaked before (I wasn’t good at it), but this time I figure out that successful tandem paddling isn’t about synchronization. Instead, the front paddler provides rhythm and power, while the rear paddler makes adjustments to keep the vessel on course through wind and wave. Synchronizing is actually the wrong thing to do because it doesn’t account for how waves push the boat.

The conditions were manageable, but we did witness somebody’s kayak flipping over.

Puerto Egas Snorkeling

Later, we snorkelled just offshore, where we saw schools of fish swimming around – almost like a National Geographic documentary.

I’m not a strong swimmer and felt pretty uncomfortable in the open water. Even with the flotation gear, it took some effort to push past the initial anxiety and focus on what was in front of me. Seeing the vibrant fish distracted me from the anxiety of being in the water.

I’ve been linking a few of the cruise photographer’s images here and there, but the above is a video of the snorkeling that really shows the vibrant sea life below.

Puerto Egas Nature Walk

In the afternoon, we arrived at Puerto Egas. The terrain here differs from other parts of the islands, combining coarse black lava formations with tide pools, beaches scattered with bleached coral fragments, and hardened ash deposits. Puerto Egas has its own unusual history. In the 1930s, businessman Hector Egas tried to establish a salt-mining operation and even constructed a few buildings here. The enterprise failed, and some locals believe the land itself resists commercial exploitation – a sort of “curse” for those trying to profit from nature rather than respect it.

These coral fragments, according to our guides, are remnants of ancient reefs pushed upward by tectonic forces and long since fossilized.

We were fortunate enough to spot a Galápagos hawk, one of the islands’ apex predators and part of the famed “Big 15” species to look out for. It was perched atop a tall, cylindrical structure that looked like an old salt silo – possibly a remnant of the failed salt-mining enterprise once attempted at Puerto Egas.

A pair of brown pelicans performed a coordinated dive nearby. It was the kind of behaviour that still feels dramatic when witnessed up close. Their timing was precise enough to make me wonder whether it was intentional coordination or just well-honed instinct.

We soon encountered lava lizards darting across our path. They blended so well with the ground that we nearly stepped on them more than once.

Eventually, we spotted a land iguana up close, grazing on nearby vegation. These large reptiles are also on the Big 15 list. The land iguana’s yellowish scales, thick limbs gave it a prehistoric presence.

On the trail, we notice trails in the sand that looked like they had been scratched with a stick. Our guide explained that these were land iguana tracks. By following one, we managed to actually spot another land iguana.

One of the more unusual features along the trail was a massive piece of fossilized coral, now hardened into stone. It had eroded into patterns that almost looked like brain tissue, a reminder that this part of the island was once under the sea. Unlike the scattered white fragments on the beach, this coral was intact.

Nearby, we also came across a striking rock formation full of jagged ridges and hollowed-out cavities. Our guide explained that this type of texture forms when lava cools rapidly and unevenly, sometimes trapping gas bubbles that burst and leave behind porous, twisted surfaces. The result looked almost sculptural—like the island was frozen mid-eruption

Later on we stumbled upon another uncommon sight: the skeleton of a marine iguana lying out in the open. It was a stark and silent example of how unforgiving natural selection can be – even here, in a place where animals appear fearless and abundant, survival is never guaranteed.

We also saw amusing sights like a sea lion snoozing on the rocks with a Sally lightfoot crab perched on its tail.

We also spotted a Galápagos mockingbird nearby. While less flashy than some of the other wildlife, they are still an important part of the evolutionary story Darwin would later popularize. Unlike some other mockingbird species, Galápagos mockingbirds are not brood parasites; they build and tend to their own nests.

While Darwin’s finches were less prominent than we anticipated, we did see several. It was a reminder that the islands offer so much more than a single narrative of evolution. Researchers today still visit the island to do research on evolution.

Our guide even made calls to drawing more attention from the surrounding birds, and mentioned that sometimes they may even land on people’s heads. When we asked if he was the only one who could make those calls, he smirked and confidently said yes.

Shipboard Dining

One thing worth mentioning is the food onboard. Meals were generally simple but thoughtfully prepared, with most ingredients sourced locally and sustainably from the islands. This makes sense too since tourism to the islands is a big part of their economy – if the animals here die out, it’s bad for the people too.

The food was also on the healthier side compared to other cruises – the fruit juice they had, while freshly squeezed lacked the flavour that we’re used to because they don’t add sugar. Due to strict biosecurity and transport regulations, only a limited selection of products are brought in from the mainland. For example, any steak has to be pre-cooked before shipping. Despite the constraints, the culinary team consistently managed to create a wide variety of dishes with what they had, adapting creatively.

See here for the photos for Buccaneer Cove and Puerto Egas

Even in peak summer in the southern hemisphere, January in Antarctica still experiences freezing temperatures with wind chill, and we needed to dress accordingly. In addition to layering up, they provided each guest a pair of boots and a lifejacket to use for the cruise that would be used for the landings. The expedition staff would call us by group for us to board Zodiacs (a brand of rugged, inflatable boats), to take us from the ship to the shore. We were warned that landings could happen on rocky beaches with water up to the knees.

Red Rock Ridge: Adelie Penguin Colony

As we waited in anticipation of the first landing, I chatted with a friendly crew member who was visiting the shore with us about the ship like its power systems, tech stuff, and later it turned out that the fellow was actually the captain himself – I couldn’t tell since he was bundled up. He was with his wife, who took time off to join him on this particular voyage. We met them several times later on the cruise and they were both very nice people to talk to.

The expedition staff had chosen a rocky shore for us to make the wet landing. We stepped off the Zodiac into water that went about up to our shins, and they helped us out of the water. This was it, we finally made it.

The mountainous landscape challenged our preconceptions of Antarctica; instead of flat ice shelves, jagged peaks and volcanic rock rose before us, their exposed rock faces contrasting starkly against the white snow and ice. In some places, the ground was a mix of snow, rocks, and mossy patches of hardy lichen—the only vegetation capable of surviving in this extreme climate. Surprisingly, it wasn’t cold – the air temperature hovered around freezing, but without any wind chill.

The key highlight of this landing was the chance to observe an Adelie penguin colony. Adelie penguins are most southerly distributed penguin species, perfectly adapted to Antarctica’s extreme conditions. Their distinctive white eye-ring against black head feathers gives them a distinctive “tuxedo with goggles” appearance. The penguins showed curious interest in their human visitors, keeping a respectful distance while clearly observing us. We arrived during their breeding season, so we saw a mixture of adults and newly hatched chicks.

Contrary to popular animated depictions, penguins don’t simply slide everywhere. They use their feet to push themselves along when belly-flopping across the ice, and they genuinely waddle when walking.

Despite their adorable behaviour, the colony had a strong, unmistakable odour. The birds live amid their own waste, referred to as guano, which accumulates in their breeding areas. This guano is so pungent that one expedition staff member remarked, “if you get it on your clothes, you may as well just burn them.” Their guano stained the snow and the penguins themselves with orange patches. The term “guano” comes from the Quechua language of Peru and was originally used to describe the excrement of seabirds, bats, and seals that was collected for use as fertilizer due to its high nitrogen content.

Antarctic skuas patrolled the skies above the penguin colony, providing a glimpse into Antarctica’s harsh food chain. These large, gull-like birds are relentless predators, known for their aggressive tactics in hunting penguin eggs and chicks. With their powerful build and hooked bills, skuas can dive-bomb distracted penguin parents and snatch their vulnerable offspring in seconds. They also practice kleptoparasitism – stealing food from other birds – and will scavenge from carcasses when available. They’re are important components of the Antarctic ecosystem, though their predatory nature often earns them an unfair villainous reputation among visitors sympathetic to the penguins.

When we returned to the ship, we followed biosecurity measures to protect Antarctica’s fragile ecosystem, by washing our boots in a cleaning fluid to prevent the transfer of contaminants between landing sites.

Stonington Island: Traces of Human History

Our second landing brought us to Stonington Island, where the continent’s sparse human history became evident through abandoned research stations.

Despite Antarctica’s remote location and harsh conditions, humans have maintained a presence here for scientific purposes since the early 20th century.

Stonington Island houses two historic research bases: East Base (American, established 1939) and Base E (British, established 1946). These stations served as important outposts for early scientific exploration in Antarctica, supporting research in geology, meteorology, and biology.

Despite its remoteness, Stonington Island was not devoid of life. A few penguins slid across the ice while a solitary seal lounged in the distance. Penguins always seem to walk single file, and the ones in the back like to wait until their “leader” makes the first move.

Witnessing a piece of ice calve from the nearby ice shelf was another highlight. A massive chunk broke off, crashing into the water and creating a wave large enough to flip over before settling into its new position.

Reflections

Our expedition to Antarctica provided rare insights into one of Earth’s last truly wild places, especially having the opportunity to cross the Antartic Circle. After returning from the entire cruise, I had followed the cruise company’s ship tracker, and I haven’t seen it cross the Antarctic Circle on its other voyages so far, which made the experience more special, and that the crew was serious that they said how rare it was go sail this far south.

Each experience today deepened our appreciation for this extraordinary continent. As temporary visitors to this frozen realm, we left with only photographs and memories. We eagerly awaited the adventures to follow in the next few days.