Tourists come to the Galapagos Islands to experience their natural beauty and wonders. If there was ever a place called Eden, it must have felt very much like these islands, a wilderness where animals have no fear of mankind. In this, the final image of this extended photo-essay, I've tried to evoke such a feeling and ask a few questions at the same time. We watch an utterly innocent sea lion pup determinedly drag itself up a small hill to smell the sandals of a human being who stands on its crest. The abstracted silhouetted figure symbolizes all who have visited this place, as well as those yet to visit. He stands motionless against a dawn cloudscape, waiting for the baby sea lion to eventually reach him. He leaves his marks on the mottled sand, along with the marks of dozens of other visitors who have preceded him here. More and more people will continue to do likewise, eventually threatening the balance of nature and the very existence of the wonders they came to see.


The Galapagos now stands at an ecological crossroads. Ecuador takes great pride in its ownership and management of one of the world's greatest natural treasures. Yet the islands themselves are now threatened by their own economic success -- more and more Ecuadorians are moving to the Galapagos to participate in its lucrative commercial fishing opportunities and touristic development. In 1978, I arrived on my first visit to these islands seated in an antiquated prop-driven Ecuadorian military transport plane. Today, two major airlines disgorge hundreds of passengers a day from jetliners at Baltra Airport, only a few miles away from this scene. Too many people and too much money can ruin the best of intentions, and that is what may already be happening in the Galapagos. Will such migration and the continued growth of tourism eventually make such moments as evoked in this image disappear forever? Will Ecuador be able to maintain the natural balance of life here? The answers to such questions remain to be answered.