Every Aspect of Your Being Is Tested on a Galápagos Cruise

In the tranquil lagoon, the golden cownose rays floated like autumn leaves on a river. A white underbelly would be shown every few seconds when a fin broke the surface. Our Zodiac's driver showed respect for the wildlife by turning off the engine, and the red mangroves, which are home to innumerable species thanks to their deep roots, fell silent as a result.

A other inflatable raft's cries shattered the silence. Isabela Island, the largest and one of the youngest in the volcanic chain that makes up the Galápagos, is shaped like a seahorse. I was sitting with seven other passengers, and we were all excited to be exploring the waterways off Punta Moreno on this island. Our ally in the water had finally caught up with us. Among the group were my son Bobby and his husband Rob, who were gesturing at the triangle arrangement of rays. Give it a good look! 

Thick drops of rain fell, but it didn't seem to phase the animals or the people around them; it was simply nature taking its course. As I silently wished the thought across the sea to reach Bobby's sensitive yet restless mind, I hoped he was paying attention. Is he aware of his good fortune? How fortunate are we? 

The Grace, a 16-passenger yacht that had been given to Grace Kelly by Aristotle Onassis, was our home for the past five days of our arduous voyage. I stress "rigorous" to dispel the notion that this is a holiday where you can kick back and relax. A Galápagos cruise tests one's mental, physical, and spiritual reserves, and is arguably more taxing than the average safari in Africa. Countless snorkeling expeditions were undertaken in robust wet suits amidst the Pacific surf, with penguins swooping by our flippers at breakneck speeds. Hikes that end in perspiration close to volcanoes (yes, several). Kayak tours past flightless cormorants flapping their shriveled, shrunken wings following a dip—they appeared ready for the midday sun, while we sweltered in our useless caps. 

Our ever-vigilant cruise director Scarlett Briones, who is part of the fourteen-strong team on the Grace, said, "You're going to need a vacation from your vacation." Our initial sighting of sea lions was immediately exciting upon landing on Baltra Island in the archipelago's middle, but by the time we reached the end of our journey, it was business as usual. As we paddled to the Grace, he growled at us like a restless kid. At that moment, my normally outgoing son cuddled up behind me; our closest encounter with sea lions had been at the Central Park Zoo. 

One family was from the Seattle area, and the other was from the suburbs of New York City; we were joined on the weeklong trek by them. Within 24 hours of meeting, we became fast friends and were relaxing on the yacht in our swimwear and bare feet. The small size of the spacecraft might have made that task easier. Warm earth tones were recently used to decorate the Grace's guest cabins, lounge, and open-air bar, which were restored by the Chilean design firm Enrique Concha & Co. Every item had its designated spot. Amazingly, our 183-square-foot room accommodated Bobby's pullout bed as well as all of our belongings, including shoes, backpacks, additional shoes, toiletries, and even more shoes. There was a hot tub outside for relaxing aching muscles, a sundeck for soaking up some rays, and a fine dining establishment where we dined under the alien Southern Hemisphere stars while sipping Ecuadorian wines. 

At present, Quasar Expeditions runs the Grace and another vessel, the Evolution, which can accommodate 32 passengers. (Dec. 2024 will see the introduction of the Conservation, a new yacht that can accommodate 18 guests.) Owners Diez family are long-time island residents and proud Ecuadorians. They first arrived in 1986. "There's been a huge increase in multigenerational family travel," Quasar founder Dolores Gangotena de Diez informed me over dinner in Quito, the capital city, right before our sailing. According to her, in the past, travelers who were willing to take timed showers were primarily adventurous retirees or marine biologists. Even fewer cruise ships visited the area, and those that did were often not friendly toward kids Bobby's age. 

There are now 76 cruise ships authorized to visit the islands, and in the last five years, ships catering to visitors who expect to learn something while being pampered have launched. These ships include Aqua Expeditions, Celebrity Cruises, and Silversea Cruises. To ensure the safety of an important maritime migration route, the protected seas surrounding the archipelago were increased by 23,000 square miles in 2021, bringing the total to 76,450. In May of last year, Ecuador finished the biggest "debt-for-nature" exchange ever. Credit Suisse mediated the restructuring transaction that resulted in the creation of the Galápagos Marine Bond, a $656 million investment vehicle that would support conservation efforts in the future. 

Nothing has changed: in order to prevent landing spots from becoming congested, Quasar, like all other cruise lines, adheres to rigid itineraries imposed by the National Park Service. By 6:30 p.m., all passengers are expected to return to their ships, and they are not permitted to leave anything behind.

Along our journey, we made friends with children whose ages ranged from five to eighty-plus. With a combined 35 years of expertise, our naturalist guides Dolores Villacreses and Monica Reck were tasked with managing the entire group, taking into account their expectations, skills, and learning styles. One qualified guide for every sixteen individuals is required by law to accompany all tourists. Quasar maintains a staff of one for every eight on the Grace. 

I looked at Prince Philip's Steps, a natural rock staircase that is about 82 feet high, and I wondered if we would make it up the horseshoe-shaped volcanic spit that is Genovesa Island. Villacreses led the more capable passengers ahead as we started to climb, swooping over enormous frigate birds, the males' crimson throat pouches puffing like balloons. Reck instinctively stretched back to hold our hands. Reck explained the mating ritual's use of the inflatable pouches in a gentle way, and Bobby couldn't help but go over to see. (That one, I happily handed over to her.) Our two guides were excellent at knowing when to stop, so we were able to take a deep breath in a huge lava-rock field when the heat finally got to us. The spectacle of hundreds of storm petrels dancing above the Pacific Ocean was awe-inspiring.

There was a regular pattern to our days that gave us the confidence to test our limits. Come up with an early rise. I will have breakfast. Outside adventure. Eat a snack. Outside adventure. Midday meal, occasionally accompanied by performing arts. Continuing the expeditions. A super-pod of dolphins materialized on the horizon as we sailed away from Isabela Island's northern shore, enjoying a lunch of grilled fish and veggies. With the skipper leading us in a furious pursuit, Bobby quickly put down his half-eaten burger and joined the other kids at the bow. Standing elbow-to-elbow, they were enthralled as they watched hundreds of the animals leap out of the water simultaneously. Watching other social creatures, these creatures are social. 

Rob and I decided to go hiking later that afternoon, past Darwin Lake and close to Tagus Cove, an uninhabited port on Isabela; Bobby remained on board. The cliffs bear the marks of sailors and sightseers who have long since passed; in fact, Charles Darwin sailed by this very area in 1835. 

I listened for finches, relieved of my childcare responsibilities and helped by the late afternoon shower's little reduction in humidity. I struck up a conversation with a fellow traveler who was a mother and a New Yorker; our modest discussion seemed more substantial in the air. It brought back a flood of memories from my beloved high school biology class, when we studied On the Origin of Species. Reck told me at our coffee break that they want everyone to know about this location. "However, the Galápagos must be stewarded in a way that minimizes our influence, ensuring that it remains undisturbed for an extended period of time." 

I think most tourists are just like me when they visit the Galápagos: expecting to be surprised by creatures like squatting, 100-year-old tortoises, masses of iguanas that lay in a quilt-like fashion, and scuttling, orange Sally Lightfoot crabs. Going to the Galápagos gives us hope that we can travel back in time and see the world as it was in 1835. I had not seen such a bounty in a long time. 

Puerto Egas is a breathtaking black-sand beach on Santiago Island, and I grabbed my wildlife book right before we dove into the refreshing waters for snorkeling. I felt it was important to get us ready in case we encountered the supernatural seahorses or the lightning-fast shark. (I managed to capture a glimpse of a shark, but alas, no seahorses.) The enormous school of silvery black-striped salema is unparalleled; despite its importance to the environment as a whole, this modest fish rarely receives much media attention. Attempting to maintain tally became futile in the face of hundreds—if not thousands. I gave Bobby a squeeze, and we both extended our arms in an attempt to enfold them in an embrace.