WILDLIFE'S WILD LIFE VISITORS TO THE GALAPAGOS ISLANDS WITNESS FLIRTING, COURTING AND MATING RITUALS.

Byline: Story and photos by Jay Solmonson Alameda Newspaper Group

GALAPAGOS ISLANDS, Ecuador - Blessed though he is - living like a prince on an enchanted island - Lonesome George is sad.

Sad because he earned his name the hard way: by being the last of his species of tortoise on Earth.

George, who is about 80 years old, comes from Pinta Island in the Galapagos Islands. We caught up with him in his corral at the Charles Darwin Research Station on Santa Cruz Island, during an eight-day cruise of the archipelago aboard a 16-passenger boat.

When George first emerged from under a tree, he was lumbering around as if the weight of the world was on his shell. In a sense, it was.

Maybe the confirmed bachelor knows that when he dies, his species dies with him.

The research station is running a successful breeding venture, repopulating the desert islands with other species of tortoises. The creatures' ancestors, like George, were also nearly wiped out by 19th-century buccaneers, whalers and settlers.

But George's species has a chance to survive if he springs into action before it's too late. Researchers have sent George several girlfriends of a similar species who share his corral and, hopefully, his affections.

If only their smoky black eyes, curvaceous shells and wanton flesh would send a flush of desire through George's unruly body.

Cue the harpist. As we gazed in excitement, so did George. He seemed to spot one of the comely females. George turned like a rusty World War II tank in her direction, and the chase was on.

We couldn't help but think of the wild tortoises we'd seen just days before in the cool, wet highlands of San Cristobal, the same island where Charles Darwin first rowed ashore in 1835.

The men in that landing party hoped to find giant tortoises, too. They were probably looking forward to roasted tortoise and a live supply of meat to take aboard their sailing ship. The tortoises were welcome shipmates, as they could survive for months with no water or food yet provide fresh meat when the ship's larder was empty.

After anchoring and going ashore on Santa Cruz Island, we took a 45-minute drive to a private ranch bordering a national park, then hiked along muddy trails stalking tortoises. At 400 pounds and not particularly swift of foot, they were easy to find.

But the Galapagos archipelago holds many more fascinations.

Six hundred miles off the coast of Ecuador, the islands were essentially unknown until Darwin's arrival 170 years ago. Among the all-but-tame wildlife, Darwin developed his theory of evolution.

The ancestors of those creatures greet today's visitors, who travel here to see one of the world's greatest natural treasures.

The animals' lack of fear of humans means you can swim with sea lions, float with penguins, scuba dive with hammerhead sharks, dance over napping iguanas and go toe-to-toe with blue-footed boobies.

On several occasions, we also came upon mummified carcasses of dead, outstretched seabirds that seemed frozen in midflight.

Of the dozens of well-traveled nature buffs I talked to on the islands, none could recall anywhere else like this in the world. In a strange land, the strangest thing of all is to find birds and beasts that don't flee from visitors. Sometimes, while squatting down to photograph boobies eye-to-eye, Darwin finches would hop on my feet, seeming more curious about me than I was about them.

And if I took my eye off the trail, I could easily find boobies, iguanas or lava lizards underfoot.

Another time, I was photographing male great frigate birds, their gular sacs inflated like red balloons under their heads, when a female flew just yards over my shoulder. The male went into full flirt-alert, shaking his wings, puffing out his shockingly red balloon, throwing back his head and howling. It was courting season. Unfortunately for him, the ardor was unrequited.

The Galapagos' 12 large islands and dozens of smaller islands were once barren volcanic undersea mountains that burst above the waves millions of years ago. So all species now living there had to cross 600 miles of open ocean. Some flew, some swam and some hitchhiked in birds' feathers, feet or guts. Small mammals and reptiles, as well as plants and insects, probably caught a ride on floating vegetation.

Over the eons, the difference between the first inhabitants and their distant cousins became so great that they are now considered different species. Darwin noticed - he found that the finches on each island, for example, had adapted their beaks to their particular environment.

With only eight days to cruise around the islands with Australia-based Peregrine Travel, we eagerly hit the islands' nature trails, which we shared with the 14 other passengers on our boat and our Ecuadorean guide, Billy.

We quickly fell into a soothing routine. After a 7 a.m. breakfast, we'd climb into rubber pangas and head off to a nature walk along cinder paths or a beach landing where we'd snorkel. We'd return for lunch and a siesta before our second excursion of the day in a different area. Then it was dinner at 7 p.m. and a briefing by Billy about the next day's plans.

We usually followed that with some lounge-chair time under an equatorial sky, stargazing as black frigate birds swooped over an ocean lit by the moon. After that, it was bedtime - and that was when things got dicey.

In order to catch sunrise at a new island, we'd have to sail through the night. Bouncy seas roiled stomachs and rattled nerves.

But by morning, all was forgotten with the excitement of a new island to explore.

Upon landing, we were often greeted by a few sleepy sea lions. Other times we'd have to gingerly step over scores of sea lions and iguanas just to get clear of the landing area.

Then we might follow a trail through the heart of a booby colony, or past a tangle of iguanas. We saw hills packed with pelicans guarding their chicks and frigate birds nesting and flirting. We watched albatrosses perform a stylish courtship dance, then celebrate by diving off sea cliffs in a thousand directions, wheeling in the wind high above the frothing surf.

On other days, we watched flamingos wading in lagoons and Sally Lightfoot crabs - rumored to be named by a sailor lovesick for his dance-hall girl - skittering over shoreline rocks. We witnessed a fight to the death of a couple of hermit crabs. We marveled as marine iguanas - the only sea-going iguanas in the world - clawed their way into the sea to forage for seaweed in the shallows, then baked in the sun to digest their meal.

On the beaches where female sea lions hauled out to warm their bodies, large males patrolled just offshore, ready to challenge any upstart. In their world of winner-take-all, losers were sent packing to bachelor colonies.

Even though we were on the Equator, temperatures were mild and the ocean chilly during our July visit, thanks to the cooling Humboldt Current. But the climate was just right for the Galapagos penguin we saw while beachcombing: He hotly pursued a fish onto the shore and gobbled it in a split second, just beyond our shadows.

On another afternoon, we hauled our cameras to the top of Bartolome Island, the most famous vista in the Galapagos. The trail followed a boardwalk and stairs, meandering through a wild and barren lava field that resembled a lunar landscape.

A setting sun, a view of Santiago Island and the Pacific Ocean floating to the horizon made it pixel-perfect to us.

We were so enthusiastic about the Galapagos that we couldn't wait to tell our friends, so we followed a long-standing island tradition. At Post Office Bay on Floreanna Island, we found the current version of a crude communication system.

In the 19th century, when whalers and other seafarers occupied the island, mail addressed to a certain destination would be put in a barrel, and any captain of a ship headed there would deliver it. So we grabbed a postcard and sent it off on the next ship bound for the north.

As for beach life in the Galapagos, there's just something about lying about in your swimsuit like a castaway. A certain lethargy sets in.

Which might explain George's little problem.

We had fresh hope when the tortoise approached his new female friend. He moseyed up and nudged her shell, but then plunged into his mud wallow.

Lonesome George, with the fate of his entire species at stake, simply took a nap.

IF YOU GO

CRUISES: We booked our trip through the Adventure Center in Emeryville, Calif.: [phone]; www.adventurecenter.com. The agency booked us with Peregrine Travel of Australia. Our ship, the MV San Jose, was more folksy than fabulous. The crew was friendly, the food fair, the snorkeling equipment minimal and the shower water tinted brown. Many of the boats that sail the Galapagos are of a similar size, carrying between 16 and 20 passengers, though there are larger ships.

The cruise is only as good as its guides and crew. And since they change often, it's a buyer-beware proposition. Ask lots of questions. On our cruise, some passengers left after four days, and new visitors came aboard. That meant we spent precious time sailing back and forth to drop people off and pick others up.

We also spent some time drooling over Celebrity Cruises' Xpedition, a 94-passenger, 300-foot luxury ship. If you're partial to morning mimosas, afternoon massages and moonlit champagne toasts - and don't mind a mob scene on the trails - inquire with Celebrity Cruises: [phone]; www.celebrity.com.

We ran into several families just off a Lindblad Expeditions cruise who raved about the comfort, food, service, snorkeling gear and quality of their naturalists. Its ship, the Islander, holds 48 passengers. Even the teenagers we talked to had a great time. Lindblad: www.lindblad.com; [phone].

WHEN TO GO: The weather from January to June is warm and wet. July through December is cooler and dry. But the Galapagos Islands are an all-year destination. Although it was warm enough for shorts and a T-shirt during our visit in July, we did use pullovers on early morning rides and during evening stargazing.

DETAILS: Tens of thousands of tourists visit the Galapagos annually. You can fly onto the island of San Cristobal and continue by boat from there. Visitors who hike are required to stay on marked trails. Only official visitors sites are open to the public. A $100 visitor fee is payable in American cash upon arrival in the Galapagos. (Ecuador, of which the islands are part, uses American money).

This is a trip for nature lovers. If you're looking for nightlife and shopping, go elsewhere. There are just a few small towns to visit and shops where you can buy an ``I love boobies'' T-shirt. Otherwise, it's all about wildlife.

If you get queasy on a boat in rough water, bring medicine. On our cruise, everyone was fine during the day, but a fair number of passengers suffered seasickness at night.

CAPTION(S):

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Photo:

(1 -- 5 -- color) Among the animals and birds that can be seen in the Galapagos Islands are marine iguanas, above, and penguins, right. Also, top, left to right, are boobies, such as this chick squawking at a nosy cameraman; tortoises, such as Lonesome George, who is the last of his species; and frigate birds, like this one, which is showing off in the hope of attracting a mate.

(6 -- color) Following a day of island exploration, tourists on a panga return at sunset to their ship, which lies at anchor in the Galapagos.

(7) After an easy hike to the top of Bartolome Island in the Galapagos, the view of Santiago Island in the distance is spectacular.

(8 -- 9) A colony of male iguanas, left, is ready to greet visitors who arrive on their chunk of land in the Galapagos Islands. In one of many wildlife encounters on a Galapagos walk, a brown pelican, above, guards her chicks on a hillside.

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IF YOU GO (see text)