Fans pick 100 books like Darwin in Galápagos

Almost one hundred years ago an extraordinary naturalist explored Galapagos for a few short weeks. The big surprise for me was that both his candid writing style and his boundless enthusiasm made me feel as though I was seamlessly transported into a Galapagos of yesteryear, when hardly anybody lived here. His exceptional eye for detailed observation may have surpassed even Darwin’s. His ability to convey his constant sense of wonder and discovery makes this book as fresh today as ever, except that some of the scenes he so vividly described are no more — succumbed to modern human activity in Galapagos — like being intimidated during his pioneering dives not by the masses of sharks, but by the toothy giant groupers that shadowed him at close range.

I grew up on Santa Cruz Island, and while Floreana Island was visible on the horizon, I only knew it as the place where mysterious things had happened to people. Only when I read this book did I begin to understand. While Europe was preparing for war in the early 1930s, William Beebe’s enchanting book about Galapagos, caused a bizarre set of adventurers to converge on this small island as their chosen Eden. Stranger than fiction, what ensued was a human-made hell instead, that fostered bizarre deaths and disappearances that have remained unexplained to this day. The author uses his scientific background to analyze the known facts and lets the reader fill in the blanks. This book was the basis for the documentary film, The Galapagos Affair: Satan Came to Eden, by Dan Geller and Dayna Goldfine.

Many people don't realise that the Galápagos Islands are inhabited. Settlers began to arrive in the middle of the 20th century. Before that, there were pirates, convicts, and oddballs, then pioneers from Europe.

In the 1930s five brothers, the Angermeyers, arrived, fleeing Hitler's Germany. I met Johanna Angermeyer, whose father was one of those brothers. Little did I know the amazing story behind how she got there. Johanna grew up in California, her mother once married to an Ecuadorian pilot. He died in a plane crash, then she had a romance with one of the brothers in Quito, but he died too.

She decided to visit the Galápagos Islands with her mother. They stayed, living a Robinson Crusoe life. Her story tells how hard it was. Later, Johanna met a British sailor and decided to settle. He was crew on the first sailing boats that took tourists around the enchanted… show more.

I can barely remember when, as a child in the mid-1960s, I met a young couple of biologists who had just spent a year living in a tiny camp among the seabirds of Galapagos, devoid of contact with the outside world. Part diary, part behavioral field notes, Bryan’s enduring book, Galapagos, Islands of Birds has just been rewritten and expanded into a brand-new edition by his widow, over 50 years later — a charming and timeless volume.

When I first arrived in the Galápagos, I thought the plants consisted of a few drab cacti and thorn bushes. As I explored, I discovered that the unique flora was as fascinating as the reptiles and birds.

There are giant prickly pears, tree-like sunflowers, and rare orchids in the humid highlands. What I could have used was a good field guide to the plants. Conley McMullen has produced just that (albeit after I left). Now, when I go back, I can take this invaluable guide with me. He covers the endemic plants as well as some of the many exotic introduced flowers. Some have become invasive pests, such as the mora blackberry, and guava fruit.

As the conservation organisations turn their attention to restoring the islands to what they once were, this book is still of great value.

This is a hero’s journey, right out of Joseph Campbell: a young man goes to sea, circumnavigates the globe, and experiences marvel after marvel of nature. What he learns on his journey matures into a kind of wisdom that transforms the world.

Darwin’s adventures keep me on the edge of my seat; his descriptions seduce me; his ideas inspire me. I want to be there with him as he recoils from the horrors of slavery in Brazil or observes the aftermath of a Chilean earthquake. And I feel I truly am with him, collecting birds and lizards on the islands of the Galapagos, as he begins to divine the answer to one of the greatest mysteries of the world.

When I was in the Galapagos, I volunteered to help scientists study the finches on Daphne Major Island. There were just two of us on an island surrounded by sharks. Every Darwin's finch had been ringed, and I had to observe what they ate. It was an experience that has left an indelible mark on my psyche.

The research was part of a project by Peter and Rosemary Grant, who spent twenty years following in Darwin's footsteps. Not only did they demonstrate the robustness of his theory, but they also showed that the process works in decades, not millennia.

Jonathan Weiner's The Beak of the Finch is a Pulitzer Prize-winning summary of Grant's work. He manages to eloquently summarise number-crunching academic work for the layman. It is a rare achievement to write an unputdownable book about science. 

I’m fairly certain that in this book, Vonnegut incites an apocalypse on humanity in order to prove that human beings are worth saving—and I’m so here for it. He didn’t hold back on who would live and who would die, on what would happen to humanity. And yet, I was enthralled with the interiority and struggles of each and every character—even those that were doomed.

I particularly love non-linear storytelling because it gives us glimpses into the future, only to make us ask questions about ourselves in the present. Getting to the end only made me want to start back at the beginning so I could linger a bit longer with humanity on the brink.

So (so) much has been written about Charles Darwin but this short book captures a side of the great man’s life that had been hiding in plain sight: his love of dogs. When Darwin was a youngster his father complained he “care[d] for nothing but shooting, dogs and rat-catching.” There was only one period of Darwin’s adulthood when he was not living with dogs and that was the five years he spent going 'round the world on a boat named – ironically enough – the Beagle. A love of dogs informed Darwin’s thinking on everything from marriage to his epochal theory of evolution by natural selection.

We have focused our recommendations on Melville’s (and other people’s) takes on Polynesian islands, but Melville also wrote about another crucial Pacific archipelago, the Galápagos Islands. His collection of sketches, “The Encantadas,” explores a very different world from Nukuhiva, Maui, or Tahiti, one nearly empty of human inhabitants, given over to birds, tortoises, iguanas, and insects. Yet here as elsewhere, Melville finds plenty to satisfy his “itch for things remote.” And here as elsewhere he meditates on human nature: the misfits, petty tyrants, and exiles who might find a home in such a forbidding place. If you think of Melville as an entertaining chronicler of the Pacific world, you will find much in that vein here—but also philosophy, history, and a sort of melancholy romance.