Here’s what I brought with me on my first Galapagos trip (1990):

On my next trips to the Galapagos, here’s what I took:

If I were to go again tomorrow, I’d take:

Four cameras on every trip. That may seem like a lot, but when you compare that to the amount you’ll spend getting to the Galapagos, you’ll notice that your camera body investment still represents only a fraction of the travel expense. Besides, I’ll bet that you probably have most, if not all, the camera equipment you’ll be taking. Use my comments here to round out your shooting arsenal, if necessary.

The camera question taken care of by the info in the left-hand column, you’ll need a few other items to keep those cameras going:

Finally, a word about metering, since you'll be thoroughly tested on setting exposures in the Galapagos due to the extreme conditions. When I’m taking my time and setting my own exposures, I use a simplified zone system to set exposures (see page 23 of Nikon Field Guide). Since I shoot slide film, I concentrate on three values: absolute white (overexposure=clear acetate!), absolute black (underexposure=no shadow detail), and 13% gray (what the standard meter exposes for). Having shot so many exposures of nature and wildlife, I also realize that what the meter in the average camera sees is none of those things.

Take the typical Galapagos penguin, for example. He’s black with white markings. If your meter mostly sees his black body markings (and he'll usually be standing against a black lava flow), the exposure the camera suggests will generally make him come out as some form of gray (no matter what you point the camera at, it assumes it is 18% gray, so that the resulting shot ends up overexposed). If you’re lucky enough to get a real close up of an adult penguin’s face, the meter will see all that white and try to make it gray (underexposure). My solution in such circumstances is use the spot metering capabilities of my camera to find and set the exposure for something that’s about 12% gray and is in the same light as the subject I’m shooting. Sometimes I get lucky and the rock the animal is sitting on will be about the right gray, sometimes I have to fake it and take an exposure reading off my hand (it’s about 15% gray when it is isn’t too tan).

For what it’s worth, very few of the animals and plants in the Galapagos are anywhere near 13% gray (the land iguanas and Galapagos Hawk qualify), so carry a small gray card with you. Most of the birds are either white or black. Most of the reptiles are dark or light tan colored. The turtles and tortoises are dark. Most of the water-going animals, like the sea lions and turtles, are also quite dark (a few of the sea lions are light tan, which poses another problem on the sand). The settings you’ll find the animals in ranges from black lava to white sand, with very little middle values in between. The sky ranges from foggy white to bright, but still quite light, blue. The ocean is generally darkly colored.

You should get the idea that you’re not shooting in a studio or a controlled situation. Spot metering, used correctly and judiciously, will get you better exposures than virtually any automatic mode of any camera I know. Of course, used incorrectly, you’ll end up with some pretty awful shots, so make sure you have some experience at using your spot meter before you travel. Nikon matrix metering does okay, but tends towards underexposure in my experience on the islands.

Under no circumstances should you arrive in the Galapagos with a camera that is in questionable shape or is brand new out of the box. You won’t find professional camera repair shops in Quito that can work on your camera—especially newer autofocus cameras—nor will you likely find any (affordable) cameras you can buy to replace the ones you brought. That’s especially true if you use anything other than Nikon or Canon equipment. What you bring is what you’re going to have to use. Make sure you know how to use it and it’s in the best possible shape before you get on the plane.

Worse still, when you get to the islands, you won’t find any camera shops at all. Indeed, during most of your stay, you probably won’t even be close to the few settlements that do exist in the islands. So even if they did have a camera shop, you wouldn’t be able to get there.

You’re probably starting to understand why I carry a backup camera body and suggest you do likewise: if your camera dies or falls in the water the first day, you’re going to spend the rest of your trip in a serious funk. (Then again, a trip to the Galapagos is an experience you won’t forget, even without photos. If for some reason you lose use of your equipment or run out of film, don’t get mad; enjoy the trip and take solace in the fact that you’re seeing sights and wild animals most people will never see. I also recommend that you spend at least one land visit sans camera—you’ll be amazed to notice things that you weren’t seeing while peering through the camera all day.)

If you’re taking a top-of-the-line body as your main camera, buy one of that manufacturer's lower-priced units as your backup. For example, if your main body is an F5 or F100, bring an F80/N80 or F90x/N90s as your backup. If the F80/N80 is your primary camera, bring a F60/N60 or F65/N65 as your backup. The key is to make sure that your backup can use the same lenses and accessories you bring for your main camera, and doesn’t change your shooting style or require refreshing your memory about controls. If you’re really price conscious—and who wouldn’t be after forking out as much as $5000 for airfare and boat accommodations—check the used department of your local professional camera shop. Not only will you find lower prices, but you might also be able to dicker the price down or get something extra (like a cleaning for your main camera) thrown in for free.

If you think relying on one camera body is a gamble you’re willing to take, think again. Your shore landings will be at the whim of the sea. Many require you to wade ashore, albeit usually through shallow, gentle waters. While there are precautions you can take, your equipment will be in constant peril during your stay. If you manage to keep your camera from getting dipped into the ocean, there’s sea mist in the air, bird droppings (they always seem to hit the pentaprism of cameras or your head, sometimes both), dust and volcanic ash, and dozens of other culprits all ready to sabotage your photo equipment. Heck, I once watched my N90s go flying across the dining room when the Captain suddenly decided to race another boat on a crossing.

I usually take only my main camera ashore with me. That’s assuming that the ocean is reasonably calm. On panga-only visits and in rough waters, I usually take my backup camera instead. The rationale here is that I’m more likely to lose the camera or damage it, and I’d rather have to replace my backup than my more expensive main body. I’ll gladly sacrifice a few features for knowing that my most expensive investment in camera bodies is still safe and usable.

Of course, the best possible scenario is to use two camera bodies that are the same. If your budget allows this, why not? That way you won’t be sacrificing features and won’t have to adjust for differences in the way the cameras work. But I’m not rich, and I suspect you aren’t either, so don’t despair if you have to use a second, cheaper body.

I rarely take both cameras ashore with me. Again, the water landings are often dangerous to photo equipment, as are a few of the paths you’ll be walking. It’s easier than you think to drop your equipment bag (even your waterproof one) into the water, or to fall while crossing a rocky lava flow. I’d rather not have all my equipment with me when I do that. Besides, you’re not likely to have to switch lenses quickly, and you probably won’t be shooting two different film types simultaneously. You can only press one shutter release at a time, so I stick with a single camera at a time.

 

Having said that, I should also point out that I usually carry a high-end point and shoot camera with me at all times. I consider this my “disposable” camera because I use it in any situation that warrants a photo opportunity, no matter what the risk. I’ve waded into the water holding my point-and-shooter above my head, I’ve stood on rocky windblown ridges with it, I’ve set it on the ground and used the remote shutter release when I didn’t want to stay close to the animals, I shoot with it on panga rides, and I’ve dragged it with me through the dustiest of trails. Someday your “disposable” will break. Actually, that someday was the next-to-the-last day of my first Galapagos trip, when I was wading in the water trying to line up a penguin and the famous Pinnacle rock in the same wide angle shot. I didn’t get upset, though, since I knew that I’d already taken dozens of other pictures I wouldn’t have otherwise dared try with my US$1000 camera body and US$500+ lenses.

There are lots of decent point-and-shoot cameras available these days. I chose my original Olympus because it had a fair lens that focused in 159 different zones (i.e., it did more than try to set a compromise hyperfocal distance). The 38 to 70mm zoom was a bit short on breadth, but allowed me to do some framing of shots when I got stuck in one position. I paid less than US$200 for it, and figure that works out to about US$1 a roll of film I managed to put through it before it died. I consider that an investment well recouped.

Of course, your point and shooter might die the first time you wade into the water with it or try to drag it up a lava ledge. As the EPA says, your mileage may vary. Still, I consider US$200 a reasonable insurance to pay on a US$5000 trip. Even if you end up never taking a picture with it, you’ll be glad you had the additional backup with you—the Galapagos can be that rough on equipment. Most point-and-shooters are compact, lightweight, and easy to stuff into a fanny pack or day pack with a few extra rolls of film. One final advantage is that you can use this camera (which is probably completely automatic and idiotproof) to hand to someone else, such as your trip leader, to get that shot of you sitting next to a tortoise or munching cactus with the iguanas.

An underwater camera is optional, but suggested. You’ll have a chance to do a lot of snorkeling in the Galapagos (bring your own mask, but most boats have an adequate supply of fins you can borrow; a lightweight wetsuit is a good option if you plan to spend a lot of time in the water, though I found I didn't need one for my typical one-hour swims). And the snorkeling is sometimes absurdly great. In one cove, we found ourselves swimming and playing with a half-dozen sea lions and literally hundreds of green turtles. I'll never forget the seeing a sea turtle suddenly swoop up out of the murky water to investigate what was making all that splashing commotion. Another time, I found myself staring at dozens of hammerhead sharks (only to be stung by a school of small jellyfish, dramatically shortening that dip!).

If you don’t want to spring for an underwater camera, do rush down to your local film proprietor and pick up one or two of those disposable waterproof camera+film things Kodak sells. They really work quite well. For US$20 you just might be able to get a few shots you otherwise wouldn’t.

To summarize, I believe that you’ll take better pictures if you bring the right equipment with you to the Galapagos. To my way of thinking that means multiple cameras, one of which is an autofocus camera of serious amateur or semiprofessional caliber. You’re free to disagree, but if you do, make sure you know why you’re disagreeing before you jump to the conclusion that what you want to bring will do the job.