A shell game

Giant tortoise sex. It’s not romantic, and certainly not for the faint of heart. The males, many of them weighing in the vicinity of 200 kilos, climb onto the backs of the much-smaller females, biting their necks and bullying them into submission. Love has nothing to do with it. And that’s likely part of the reason why the females then make their way from the highlands where mating occurs down to the ocean, lay their eggs, then leave them. Period. No motherly love here. 

The Charles Darwin Research Centre is about a kilometre outside of Santa Cruz, the largest town in the Galápagos. They obviously do research there, but it’s also centre an important breeding centre for the different varieties of giant tortoises that inhabit these islands. We arrived at feeding time which is likely the only time these marvellous creatures move quickly. We witnessed one of them actually climb over the top of the guy next to him to get to the succulent green elephant ear plants that form part of their diet. 

They keep the babies for about five years, then release them back to the wild in an effort to restore the population. Native people find tortoise meat quite tasty, so lots of them have ended up on dinner plates throughout the ages. And there were other dangers like seafarers and pirates. When they discovered that these animals could survive up to one year without food or water, they collected scores of them, stacked them upside down on board their ships, then slaughtered and ate them throughout the duration of the voyage. Thankfully, they are protected today, although many older Galápagos residents are reported to (illegally) have a feed from time to time. 

In the afternoon, we travelled to a reserve where the tortoises roam freely, munching on vegetation and playing in mud. Their hind legs are exactly like elephant legs (well, a little smaller). Otherwise, they look exactly like ET. Unfortunately I forgot my phone so no pics other than the ones locked in my camera.