Isla Santa Fe, Galapagos

Santa Fe is one of the smaller islands on the Galapagos and is completely uninhabited by humans. All the Galapagos islands are volcanic in origin, but this is one of the oldest, the island being formed from the tip of a series of underground volcanic rock formations created about 3.5 million years ago.

Even though the island is small, it has two endemic species of animal, creatures found nowhere else in the world. These are the Santa Fe Land Iguana (Conolophus pallidus) and the Santa Fe Rice Rat (Oryzomys bauri). The land iguana is similar to its cousins on the mainland but sports a paler coat (its scientific name ‘pallidus’ means ‘pale’) with blonde highlights foregrounding its darker coloured pelt. The rat is very cute. 

The animal that most people come to see here, however, is the Galapagos sea lion (Zalophus wollebaeki). This inquisitive, friendly animal is the most common marine mammal on the islands, found almost anywhere there’s a nice beach on which to relax. They are famously laid-back, often sitting next to humans on benches, coming up for food, or swimming around them as they bathe. Their remarkable amicability is because the larger animals on the Galapagos have no natural land predators and have, therefore, never evolved the need to fear humans.

When they’ve had enough of hanging out with tourists, it’s time to go to work. Sea lions are predators, mostly feeding on the shoals of sardines that flit through the shallows. To chase them, they can dive up to 1,000ft (300m) underwater, holding their breath for an incredible ten minutes. They are lightning fast when swimming and have all the grace of ballerinas as they twist and somersault after their prey, which they hunt in packs, chasing and herding them, running them aground on beaches and coves where they can feast.

Sea lions are social animals, and the males, distinguished by a large bump on their forehead, grow up to four times the size of the females. They live either in large colonies of several females and a single male, or, in the case of the younger, lower-status males, in bachelor colonies where it’s boys' night every night.

I finish the day on the beach, relaxing next to a gang of sunbathing sea lions. As soon as I take a sandwich out of my backpack, a few of the younger pups' ears prick up (quick note - if you ever want to distinguish a seal from a sea lion, look at the ears; sea lions have small external ear flaps, whereas seals just have an earhole). Moments later, they shuffled up next to me, barking and lunging for my lunch. It’s not good to feed these pescetarian animals cheese or bread (or anything at all, for that matter), so I try to fend them off until they get bored and head to the sea for a swim.

I leave Isla Santa Fe with the sun disappearing over the horizon, the sky the colour of bronze, the sea of silver. I wave to the sea lions who are already settling down for the night and watch the wake of the boat as we make our way to Puerto Ayora.