History is messy. If you head to the southern reaches of the Galapagos archipelago, you’ll find an island that goes by many names—Isla Santa Maria, Charles, or most commonly, Floreana. It isn’t the biggest. It isn't the youngest. Honestly, it’s kinda the black sheep of the family. While most people visit the Galapagos to see tortoises and blue-footed boobies, people go to Isla Santa Maria for the drama. Human drama, specifically.
You’ve probably heard of the "Galapagos Affair." It sounds like a cheap spy novel, but in the 1930s, it was a very real, very deadly mystery involving a self-proclaimed "Baroness" and her lovers on this exact patch of volcanic rock. People disappeared. Bodies washed up on distant islands. To this day, nobody really knows what happened. That’s the vibe of Isla Santa Maria—beautiful, slightly eerie, and completely unlike the pristine, untouched wilderness portrayed in glossy travel brochures.
The many faces of Isla Santa Maria
Most people call it Floreana now, named after Juan José Flores, the first president of Ecuador. But early Spanish explorers called it Santa Maria. Then the British came along and called it Charles. It’s confusing.
Basically, this island has the longest history of human habitation in the entire chain. Because it has one of the few reliable sources of fresh water in the highlands, it became a pit stop for everyone who wasn't supposed to be there. We're talking pirates, whalers, and eccentric European settlers looking for a "back to nature" lifestyle that usually ended in disaster.
The landscape itself is a trip. You have the "Devil’s Crown," which is essentially a jagged, submerged volcanic cone that looks like it belongs in a heavy metal music video. Then you have the highlands, which are lush and green, contrasting sharply with the harsh, dry lava fields near the coast. It’s a place of extremes.
Why the Post Office Barrel actually matters
You’ll see it on every itinerary. Post Office Bay. It sounds like a tourist trap, and in some ways, it is, but the tradition is legit.
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Back in 1793, Captain James Colnett set up a wooden barrel. There were no stamps. No postmasters. Just a bunch of homesick whalers leaving letters in a box, hoping that some other sailor heading back to London or Nantucket would pick them up and deliver them by hand. It was the original social network, but slower.
Today, you can still do it. You drop a postcard in the barrel and you sift through the pile to see if anyone lives near your hometown. If they do, you take their card and hand-deliver it when you get back. No mailing it. That’s cheating. It’s a strange, tangible connection to the 18th century that actually still works.
The Wildlife: It's not just about the humans
Don't get it twisted—the nature here is still world-class. Isla Santa Maria is one of the few places where you can see the Galapagos Petrel, a bird that nests in the humid highlands. And then there are the flamingos.
At Punta Cormorant, there’s a large brackish lagoon. It’s tucked behind a beach with surprisingly green sand (thanks to olivine crystals). If you’re lucky, you’ll see dozens of Greater Flamingos wading through the shallow water. They look totally out of place against the black volcanic rock, like someone photoshopped them in.
Snorkeling at the Devil’s Crown is where things get intense. The current is strong. Like, really strong. You’re basically being flushed through a toilet bowl of volcanic rock, but while you're spinning, you're seeing white-tip reef sharks, sea lions, and schools of king angelfish. It’s chaotic and brilliant.
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The dark side of paradise
We have to talk about the "Baroness" again because you can't understand Isla Santa Maria without it. In 1932, a woman named Eloise Wehrborn de Wagner-Bosquet arrived with two lovers. She planned to build a luxury hotel called "Hacienda Paradise."
She clashed with the other settlers, the Wittmers and the Ritters. Friedrich Ritter was a philosopher who had moved there to escape civilization and live on a diet of mostly vegetables (and he had all his teeth pulled out and replaced with steel ones to avoid dental issues—hardcore, right?).
Then, the Baroness and one of her lovers disappeared. Another lover was found shipwrecked and dead on Marchena Island months later. Margret Wittmer lived on the island until she died in 2000, taking whatever secrets she had to the grave. When you walk the trails near the highlands, you can still see the caves where these families lived. It’s a heavy atmosphere.
How to actually visit without ruining the vibe
Most people visit on a cruise. It’s the easiest way. You wake up, you’re there, you snorkel, you leave. But if you really want to feel the island, you should stay in Puerto Velasco Ibarra.
It’s a tiny village. Maybe 150 people live there. There are a few small guesthouses. Life moves at a glacial pace. You can hike up to the "Asilo de la Paz" (Asylum of Peace) in the highlands. That’s where the freshwater spring is, and where the giant tortoises roam around in a semi-wild state.
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Planning your trip: The logistics
- When to go: January to May is the warm/wet season. The water is clearer for snorkeling, but it’s humid. June to December is the garúa (misty) season. It’s cooler, and the sea is choppier, but the flamingos are often more active.
- What to bring: High-quality sunscreen. The equatorial sun on Isla Santa Maria doesn't care about your feelings. Also, bring motion sickness meds if you’re doing the ferry from Santa Cruz. It’s a two-hour ride across open water that earns its nickname, "the vomit comet."
- The Snorkel Factor: Don't skip the Devil's Crown. Even if you're a mediocre swimmer, use a life vest and go. It’s one of the top three snorkel spots in the entire archipelago.
The reality of conservation
Isla Santa Maria has suffered more than most islands. Because humans lived here so long, they brought goats, pigs, and rats. These invasive species decimated the local tortoise population and the Floreana Mockingbird.
The mockingbird is actually extinct on the main island now. You can only find it on two tiny nearby islets, Champion and Enderby. There’s a massive effort currently underway to reintroduce them and restore the island’s ecosystem. It’s a slow process. Nature takes its time, and human mistakes take decades to fix.
The Charles Darwin Research Station and the Galapagos National Park Directorate are constantly monitoring the area. They’ve successfully eradicated many of the invasive predators, which is a huge win. The goal is to eventually bring the original Floreana tortoise back—or at least a hybrid that’s genetically similar—to roam the highlands again.
Final thoughts on the Isla Santa Maria experience
If you want the "Disney" version of the Galapagos, stay on Santa Cruz or San Cristobal. If you want the version that feels like a forgotten outpost at the end of the world, Isla Santa Maria is the spot. It’s a place of ghosts, pirates, and pink birds. It’s weird, and that’s exactly why it’s the most interesting island in the group.
Actionable steps for your visit
- Book a multi-day land stay instead of just a day trip. Day trips from Santa Cruz are rushed and you miss the highland caves where the real history happened.
- Prepare a postcard before you leave home. Writing it while sitting on the beach at Post Office Bay is cool, but having it ready means you can spend more time looking through the barrel for a card to take home.
- Hire a local guide in Puerto Velasco Ibarra. The stories they tell about the "Galapagos Affair" are often family legends passed down through generations. They know details you won't find in a Wikipedia entry.
- Check your gear. If you’re snorkeling Devil’s Crown, make sure your fins fit tight. The current is no joke, and losing a fin there is a recipe for a very bad afternoon.
- Respect the boundaries. Stay on the marked trails at Punta Cormorant. The nesting sites for sea turtles and birds are fragile, and the park rangers are (rightfully) strict about it.