The following is an excerpt written about scuba diving in the Galapagos, part of the Around-the-Americas Expedition, as told by Jenn Dalton:
So much of this expedition has involved witnessing life on the ocean from above the surface. The Galápagos offered us a completely different perspective—deep beneath it.
The crew—Tess, Grace, Steve, and I had the opportunity to dive off the northern end of Santa Cruz Island near Daphne Minor and Seymour Island.
The weight of the tank disappeared the moment I hit the water, and the relief from the Galápagos heat was instant. Bubbles engulfed me, and then everything became clear. A large school of silver-and-yellow fish immediately surrounded me. None seemed bothered by my arrival in their world. After reviewing hand signals, our instructor pointed toward the descent line. I grabbed hold and sank slowly into the blue, mesmerized by the life all around me.
Almost immediately we encountered a massive moray eel stretched fully out in the open. Then came thousands of garden eels, their heads protruding from the sand like blades of seagrass, swaying rhythmically in the current. We passed giant angelfish, enormous Galápagos pufferfish, tuna, trumpetfish, and finally, white-tip reef sharks. I had expected to feel fear when I saw my first shark. Instead, I felt awe. Three white-tips rested quietly on the seafloor only a few feet away. They were calm. I was calm. We simply shared the same space for a few moments, and it felt like a privilege.
Four eagle rays appeared out of the blue. They glided effortlessly around us, wings undulating as they rode the current. They looked less like fish and more like birds flying through an underwater sky. We swam among them as they circled gracefully around us. We saw more sharks, Galápagos flounders, parrotfish, and countless other species. The deeper we traveled into their world, the more I felt like a guest in a place that operated by entirely different rules. Everything moved with purpose, yet nothing seemed rushed.
As we motored toward the next site, the crew shared stories over snacks. I paid for a second dive and joined the more experienced group. This time we followed a stepped underwater shelf downward. Before long, several sea lions appeared, darting around us like underwater acrobats. Their sleek bodies zipped past from every direction. Sometimes they stopped directly in front of our masks and floated upside down, studying us with the same curiosity we had for them. I watched my instruments as we descended—35 feet, 40 feet, then 60 feet below the surface.
Again, we encountered white-tip and black-tip sharks, schools of tropical fish stretching beyond sight, and then one of the highlights of the day, sea turtles. The first rested quietly among rocks, as though tucked into an underwater garden. We remained at a respectful distance while it regarded us with calm curiosity. Then we saw another. And another. And another. Some were enormous. Most seemed completely at ease with our presence. Combined with the playful sea lions, it felt as if every few minutes another wonder emerged from the murky waters.
Then came the moment I will never forget. Ahead of us appeared what looked like a dark cloud suspended in the water. As we approached, it resolved into thousands upon thousands of silver fish packed tightly together, rotating in perfect synchronization. The bait ball moved like a single living organism, flashing silver whenever sunlight filtered through from above. My instructor signaled for us to enter. Every instinct told me to hesitate. After all, bait balls exist because something is hunting them. But I followed. We slipped beneath the swirling mass and instantly the sunlight disappeared. Fish surrounded me in every direction. Their bodies moved with impossible precision. I could see individual eyes and scales, yet somehow, they all knew exactly when to turn.
For a moment the school opened. Beyond the silver curtain were sharks. Then, just as quickly, the fish closed ranks again, surrounding us once more. I found myself swimming within their spinning universe, moving alongside them as though I had become part of the school. It was one of the most extraordinary wildlife experiences of my life. That day reminded us why we had sailed thousands of miles to reach these islands.
For months we had studied the ocean from its surface—crossing vast stretches of water, documenting wildlife, weather, and ecosystems. But beneath the surface was an entirely different universe, one filled with lives unfolding beyond our sight. The sharks resting on the seafloor, the eagle rays gliding through the current, the sea lions twisting through the water, the turtles drifting through underwater gardens, and even the tiny garden eels swaying in the sand are all part of a world that has existed for millennia and deserves the chance to continue.
The experience left all of us with a renewed sense of purpose. The research, education, and storytelling that brought us here felt more important than ever. We came away convinced that protecting these ecosystems isn’t simply about preserving wildlife; it’s about safeguarding wonder itself.
By Jennifer Dalton
The Crew of s/v One Ocean has sailed from the Galapagos to the Hawaiian Islands across the vastness of the Pacific Ocean and arrived safely on 7/2/2026. As of 6/29/2026, they had been at sea for 25 days, leaving 3,600 miles behind them and “only” 300 more miles to go to reach Hawaii. They left with limited food provisions available from the Galapagos and were looking forward to fresh fruits and vegetables. They also reported that their autopilot stopped working, but they were able to make a fix by adding hydraulic fluid and pumping in pressure. You can read Jenn Dalton’s latest report at https://oneislandoneocean.com/blog/our-longest-open-water-crossing-great-pacific
