I Take My Stomach Bug Snorkeling

Throughout my life, I’ve traveled to many places in Mexico with questionable water quality and sometimes, questionable health practices. So far, when visiting my family in Mexico, I have been lucky to avoid the curse of Montezuma’s Revenge, or the dreaded traveler’s “illness”. So, I came into the Galápagos Islands with an unshakeable confidence that I would survive whatever foolish microbe might challenge my champion gut. I’ve since learned that the bacteria in the Galápagos is to be taken quite seriously. I had not yet occupied the island for a full 24-hours when nausea first set in. 

We landed on the tarmac at 10:03 A.M. on a Sunday, where I met my host mother and we flagged a taxi to haul my luggage five minutes down the road. After remedying an early travel morning with a quick nap, we sat down for a quick lunch of chicken and rice with a little salad. Lots of chicken and rice and little salads here. The drinkable water in the house was provided by an office cooler gallon jug, shipped to the islands since natural freshwater sources here are severely lacking. After lunch, I snuck another quick nap in before trekking to campus for our initial orientation. The walk took us most of 25 minutes, as we wove through neighborhood blocks populated by humble concrete homes and lined with street gutters clogged by plastic litter. I was initially surprised by the poverty and pollution that characterized the neighborhoods of San Cristobal, never having imagined that this was the reality of the great Galápagos Islands National Park.

 After orientation, the program provided us with dinner at a restaurant down the street from campus. Having missed breakfast during our long travel day (save for a single granadilla and an 8 oz Americano that I sipped while reading the entirety of Mary Oliver’s Felicity during our long airport wait) I wolfed down a plate of rice, fish, bean stew, and yet another small salad. The portions were quite generous, and yet, I found myself needing to order a second plate. And at $6 a plate for this hearty combo, why not? After downing my second dinner, my friends and I expressed our thanks and headed off to a nearby frozen yogurt spot for a little sweet treat to top it all off. Somewhere along the way, my gut’s impenetrable defenses were compromised. As one of my companions pointed out, “Double the fish, double the risk.” I don’t know how gut microbiomes work, but maybe I did inundate my champion gut with an onslaught of malignant microbes. All I know for sure is that nobody else got sick except for me. Until your gut has adjusted, be very intentional about what you eat and when, and under absolutely no circumstances should you use the sink water to brush your teeth. 

Despite my condition, I showed up to Monday morning orientation, not out of any desire to be well-informed and adequately prepared for my three weeks in the Galápagos, but out of fear that I would miss the afternoon snorkeling activity. I hadn’t kept breakfast down that morning, and I skipped the provided lunch, even excusing myself from the lunch table to sit elsewhere, as I couldn’t bear the smell of cooked meat. I suffered through the first half of what might have been a pleasant morning had I not been so ill, before we finally set off for our snorkeling adventure at two o’clock. I assured myself that I just needed to make it through the short hike to the cove, so I fueled up with a small roll of bread right before our departure.  I prayed that it would stay down long enough for my body to make use of the calories. Soon, all of my suffering paid off. We arrived at the glistening, deep blue waters of the cove and suited up for our hour in the water. Feelings of nausea were quickly replaced by feelings of wicked excitement and complementary apprehension. I slipped my feet into the neon green flippers, and anxiously tugged at the straps around my heels until I found them to be sufficiently cutting my circulation. Fiercely biting down on the gummy mouthpiece of the snorkel, I dove into the icy waters. Immediately, I thought that in my weakened condition, I might have benefited from a lifejacket. I swam on, clearly not having learned from my earlier arrogance that had cost me the balance of my gut microbiome.

Swimming around the cove for over an hour was exhausting, healthy or otherwise, but I was far too enamored by the abundance of colorful fish, lazing sea turtles, and playful sea lions to even consider swimming back to shore. The sea lions, in particular, were quite flirtatious, weaving between swimmers and seemingly inviting us to dive alongside them. I was hesitant to dive given my physical state, but periodically took the plunge, twirling and blowing bubbles five feet under to amuse my lithe dance partners. Towards the end, I clambered up onto a slippery rock–equally as sharp–to catch a short break, where I was joined by a similarly exhausted snorkeler. The physical demand was greater than any of us had clearly anticipated. By the end of the day, I had amassed fifteen thousand steps in addition to my hour-long swimming expedition, and I knew that the next day would be spent sleeping and hydrating in attempts to repay the health debt that I had accrued. 

I suppose there are not many lessons to be gleaned from my arrogance, but there could have been. Getting out into the water in my compromised state without a life jacket could have been disastrous, though it wasn’t. I have two more weeks in the Galápagos, with each afternoon wide open after classes. With a snorkel and flippers renting for less than 10 bucks a day, realistically, I could have gone tomorrow, or even next week. Realistically, I’ll probably go again. It wasn’t a mistake, but it also wasn’t a risk I really needed to take. Though, I suppose sometimes the risk makes it all the more memorable. I’m not soon to forget the magic of snorkeling in the Galápagos while fighting a nasty stomach bug, as absurd as that sounds. Maybe it was the wonder of the abundant aquatic life combined with the imminent threat of drowning that enhanced my appreciation of fleeting life, making me feel more like a singular, mortal animal on the face of this earth. I might as well be a fish. But if reflections on mortality while snorkeling in the Galápagos doesn’t really sound like your thing, then heed my warnings.