Just 48 passengers will travel on this brand-new superyacht around the Galápagos Islands.

Sailing the Galápagos Islands for the first time on Lindblad Expeditions' new National Geographic Islander II is as magical a vacation as I could imagine, coming from someone who used to "borrow" his dad's National Geographic magazines to cut out nature photographs to attach to school binders.

The biologist Ixora Berdonces, from Santa Cruz, the most populous island in the archipelago, described the region as "like the nursery of the ocean." Like she was conducting a symphony, she gestured out into Black Turtle Cove's mangrove ecology. Given the amount of activity in this vicinity off Santa Cruz, perhaps playground was more appropriate. Along with eleven other passengers, I went on an outing on the small Zodiac motorboat of the National Geographic Islander II. When we noticed another animal, we craned our necks and let out chirps.

Turtle-man! Like a thumbs-up from the ocean, Pacific green sea turtles raised their heads out of the water. Birds that frigate! The birds, which you would have thought were pterodactyls, circled above you on enormous wings. Boobie with blue feet! The birds dive-bombed for fish, banked hard.

Boiling crimson Sally Lightfoot crabs scuttled down long natural jetties of black volcanic rock bordered with grass, which the Zodiac glided by. With the exception of the odd pelican squawk, our driver, Daniel, shut off the motor and continued driving further into the maze of red mangroves. Even though we were 600 miles from Ecuador's mainland off Santa Cruz Island, it seemed like we were the only people there.        

According to Berdonces, there have only been four generations of visitors to these islands, which implies that the animals are "ecologically naïve" and do not run from people. This was brought home to us when lions swam directly up to us while we were snorkeling off the island of Isabela and weaved in and out of groups of marine iguanas lounging in the sun on Fernandina Island. All that was left of us was nature. And we were only getting started on our weeklong journey on the National Geographic Islander II.  

The term "expedition" could be waved around by the cynic as marketing gimmick. However, as the 6 a.m. alarm calls soon made clear to me, this is a fast-paced trip. Despite my gratitude for the lessons learned from the packed itineraries, lovers of relaxed cruising should take note.   

"A cruise is more inwardly focused in many respects. The ship itself, the onboard activities, and the entertainment, explained to me Lindblad chairman Sven Lindblad, whose father Lars-Eric conducted the first non-researcher ecotourism voyage to the Galápagos in 1967. An expedition also has an external focus. To make it happen, the ship functions as a sort of base camp. We're not really dependent on any shore-based infrastructure because we're in isolated locations.

But that doesn't mean I was roughing it. Less of a ship and more of a boutique hotel, the 280-foot National Geographic Islander II allows visitors to enjoy handcrafted cocktails and unwind in a hammock on the wraparound teak decks while listening to the sound of the waves. Formerly a superyacht, the ship had a complete makeover in advance of its August 2022 first trip. It features 26 suites for a total of 48 guests, with a crew-to-passenger ratio of one to one.

Each suite features plush living areas, dazzling marble bathrooms with double basins, and two twin-size mattresses that can be joined to form a king-size bed. Additionally, there is a flat-screen TV that is really useful because it shows the schedule for the day. Expect to spend little time watching TV, though, because large windows in your room offer rival views of the ocean. Espresso makers in the room are just as necessary for those early mornings as expedition guide Gaby Bohorquez's cheerful wake-up calls.

After a hard day of hoofing it, you may relax in the sauna, take a dip in the plunge pool, or see Estefania Mateljan, the on-site wellness professional, to knead your quadriceps. Smaller public areas honor the famous blue-footed boobies' cerulean webbed feet. Examples include the on-board library's chairs and bookcases, as well as the Cove lounge's color scheme, which serves three purposes: it's a gathering place for pre-dinner cocktails, researcher lectures, and information sessions.

Meanwhile, the Yacht Club restaurant's blue-upholstered banquettes entice diners with dishes that feature sustainably sourced ingredients and are influenced by Ecuador's four regions. Imagine a dish consisting of duck breast and South American cazuela stew, which is prepared with mashed green plantains and wild Pacific wahoo. It is then topped with passionfruit cheesecake and homemade ice cream. Even with the opulent surroundings, I never felt uncomfortable wearing my hiking cargo pants and beat-up boots (your packing list should be refreshingly practical).

Speaking of out of place, the fragile ecosystem of the islands was brought to our attention repeatedly over the week. The significance of allowing the animals their space, leaving nothing behind, and not bringing anything with us was emphasized by our trip leaders. Furthermore, the fact that Lindblad Expeditions has been operating in the region since the 1960s and is a carbon-neutral business that has conducted research, education, and conservation there made me feel comfortable.

In addition, the company books lodgings on every expedition for scientists and naturalists from Ecuador, such as Berdonces, who was appointed by the government of Ecuador to lead the National Marine Ecosystem Cleaning Project prior to her joining Lindblad.

As our bus wound its way down a gravel road on Santa Cruz Island on our second day there, Berdonces remarked of the animals, "This belongs to them." "We are merely guests on this island." She gestured to the shells of the hundreds of enormous tortoises that roamed the expansive grounds of the family-owned El Manzanillo ranch, where we were headed. A tortoise's age may be determined by the ridges on its shell; according to Berdonces, we saw one that was most likely over 90 years old. We were only passing through for creatures who live to be well over a century old. Occasionally, they sighed and crawled back into their shells. They mostly just disregarded us.

Following a safety warning for snorkeling in the lounge, I asked Lindblad what he wanted guests to remember from the trip. He expressed his wish that people will always have a deeper respect for natural systems since it is imperative that humans alter their interaction with the environment. 

I was struck with a sense of awe on my snorkeling trip on the small island of Rabida, when I happened upon a group of fifteen sherbet-pink flamingos at a lagoon. One gave a flash of its black-tipped wings, bobbed its head, and moved to the side. Before long, every one of the fifteen birds was dancing together.