Hanging Out With Giant Turtles

This past weekend, I traveled with my friend Hillary to take advantage of a seasonal spectacle: the homecoming of the giant green turtles. Every July, on the black sand beaches of the small barrier island of Tortuguero, massive female sea turtles arrive from all over the world to lay their eggs. Having been born in Tortuguero themselves, the turtles follow their internal GPS to deposit their eggs in nests that they themselves once crawled out of. It was a truly amazing sight.

After three busses and one boat ride (nine hours of travel) from my site, we finally arrived at Tortuguero. There are no cars allowed on the island, and none of the pathways are paved. The village is nothing more than a group of houses, restaurants and cabinas resting on foundations of sand. Without the drone of traffic, the crashing of the waves serenades the entire island. While a recent tourism boom has developed the village over the past decade, it remains fairly poor. For this reason, Ben and Millie, an older Peace Corps married couple, are stationed on the tiny island.

Feeling relaxed in the Caribbean atmosphere, Hillary and I enjoyed the traditional coconut flavored food, and took in the beauty of the Atlantic coast. Walking along the beach, we found giant depressions in the sand along the dunes. We were told by locals that these are the turtle nests, and not to disturb them. All around the nests we found empty eggshells; apparently the Leatherback turtles had already hatched and swam off into the open ocean. After checking out the beach in the afternoon, we headed back to our cabinas to meet our guide for a night tour.

Our guide was an affable native of Tortuguero. Before we got started, he explained to us the system that the conservation program had put in place for turtle viewing. The beach, he explained, we divided up into several sections. In each section, spotters cruised the beach searching for nesting turtles. On walkie-talkies, they informed the tour guides which section to go to. Once in our assigned section, we joined five other groups of about eight people. When the spotters gave us the okay, we got in line behind the other groups and approached the turtle.

The enormous shell was covered with sand from having dug a fifty centimeter deep hole in the sand for the eggs. She was illuminated by the special red flashlights the tour guides used. About a meter long and half a meter wide, the female hovered over the nest and laid several eggs at a time. She was calm, the guide explained, because turtles go into a trance-like state while depositing their eggs. After watching her for a minute or so, we stepped back so that other groups could sneak a peek.

Before our second viewing, we were led a few meters down the beach to see a different turtle heading back to sea. Having finished laying her eggs, she lumbered across the beach. Throwing one fin in front of the other, she inched her way to the water’s edge making tractor-like tracks in the sand. When the foamy water crashed into her face, she stopped for a few moments, as if to say “holy crap, am I tired.” After a few minutes, she disappeared into the dark sea. She will only return to lay more eggs, and will sadly never know her babies.

Returning to the first turtle, we found that she was already starting to cover up the nest. With great thrusts of her hind fins, she heaved sand into the hole. Her aim, I must say, was not impeccable; she flung sand all over us and our guide. With her nest buried, we left the giant creature to head back to sea alone.

In about two months, the eggs will hatch, and the little babies will make their instinctual race from their nest to the sea. This will be no easy task. Out of a nest of one hundred, only about two will return to lay their eggs. The little guys have to avoid attacks by dogs, birds and humans before even reaching the ocean. Once in the ocean, the babies have to make the long swim to the nourishing kelp forests offshore. Along the way, they are eaten by sharks and other fish. For this reason, the poor mother wears herself out by filling the large nests.

I was so glad that I had made the long trip from coast to coast to see such a beautiful natural wonder. I am forever in the dept of the turtle watcher program that organized the process so well. Before the program, I was told, the beaches were mayhem, and several poor members of the community would steal the eggs from their nests to sell. Since the program was started, turtle counts are up 300 percent. This just goes to show that while conservationists may be idealists, they can have a significant impact on the ground. In most cases, there is a direct conflict between conservation and local economies. However, because of the turtle conservation in Tortuguero, the local economy is booming with the eco-tourism industry. If only every conservation effort was so simple.

The next day, Hillary and I had dinner with Ben and Millie. They had been evacuated from Peace Corps Bolivia when the civil unrest started there. Over a good meal, they told us what it was like to be in such a complicated situation, and what life is like in their new site. I was thoroughly impressed with them. They were my parents’ age, yet seemed like my peers. Full of energy, they seemed to enjoy their life on the tranquil island. They gave me hope; perhaps I will feel that young when I am their age.

The turtle nesting at Tortuguero is a unique event that makes Costa Rica special. As I check months off the calendar, I realize that I only have about ten months left to see everything the country has to offer. This past weekend made me see that for certain Costa Rican highlights, a nine hour bus ride just may be worth it. If the turtles can swim hundreds of miles to Tortuguero, I can have the courtesy to take the bus.