3. Darwin’s Finches: Evolution in Real-Time
They’re tiny, often drab but overwhelmingly important — Darwin’s finches number 17 species (and counting, thanks to ongoing hybridization) and showcase adaptive radiation better than any field-guide diagram ever could.
Prince Philip Steps, Genovesa: If you only land once for finches, make it here. The 81-step climb deposits you in a woodland teeming with birds, including the infamous vampire finch (yes, the one that sips seabird blood). Because the plateau has no large predators, some birds will fly down and casually hop around your boots, pecking for small bugs you might have kicked up while your guide was pointing out their subtle beak differences.
Daphne Major — the evolution classroom: This uninhabited tuff cone near Baltra is where scientists spent decades documenting changes in beak size from one generation to the next. Cruise permits to land are rare, but many itineraries include a circumnavigation and, if conditions allow, a dive or snorkel where the cliff walls ring with finch chatter overhead. Even from the water you’ll see a multitude of these curious little birds.
Why it matters for travelers: Besides bragging rights, watching finches forage teaches you to “read” the Galápagos. Spot a stout-beaked cactus finch and you know opuntia pads (a type of cactus) are nearby; hear the high-pitched buzz of a warbler finch and you’re likely under a canopy of mossy branches alive with insects. Suddenly the landscape is a code you can crack.
Field tips: Carry compact binoculars, wear neutral colors and avoid crunchy snack bags that will rustle and spook the shyer insect-eaters. Early-morning light is best for photos — beaks catch a glint, backgrounds stay soft.