Saving the Turtles

by Diana Laboy-Rush (United States of America)

A leap into the unknown USA

One summer in 2011, my family of five took an extended vacation to a sleepy fishing village north of Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. We chose the destination because San Pancho, as it is affectionately referred to by locals, has been home to a sea turtle conservation program. There was a time when you could visit the mile long beach in San Pancho and witness hundreds of nesting female sea turtles as they crawl out of the ocean for less than an hour to dig a hole, lay their eggs, and cover the hole before heading back to sea. However, there are many predators to turtle hatchlings, and as a result the numbers of sea turtles in our oceans have dwindles. Our trip to San Pancho was to volunteer with Projecto Tortuga, whose sole purpose is to track and monitor turtle nests, eggs, and hatchlings on the San Pancho beach. On this night, we arrived at the camp just as the rain started. The rain was light and if the rain was without lightning, the work continued as planned. We had only been at the center for 5 minutes when we heard the rumble of the dune buggy come around the corner, much faster than normal. When Frank, the director, pulled the buggy into the driveway that evening, he yelled for me and the boys to grab our coats and jump in. He had seen a familiar poacher and there were 3 nesting turtles on the beach that protection. I jumped in and the boys hopped on the two hubcaps and grabbed the chassis. The oldest banged to say they were ready and we were off!. As we drove, Frank yelled the plan over the rumble of the motor. We had to split up to avoid the risk of having one or more of the nests collected by a poacher. He dropped the 3 of us with the last turtle to come out of the ocean and directed us to monitor her and to pack the nest up while she was laying. By this time, the rain was coming down pretty heavy and the concern was that a lightning storm would hit. When he dropped us off, Frank made a point to warn us that if there were any lightning, to head to the small shelter about 200 yds north of us. He said he would be back as soon as he could and then he was off. There we were, less than a meter from the most amazing creature I had seen in the wild. She was probably 3 feet long and weighed about 150 pounds. No sooner had she started laying did the first lightning bolt strike. Crack, boom, flash! I realized that we had to collect the eggs now, in the storm, if we had any chance of saving them. I laid down on my stomach, in the wet sand, and started pulling the eggs out of the nest as soon as they dropped in and placing them in front of my oldest son who counted and laid them in the plastic bag. What seemed like forever, in reality was about 5 minutes. Throughout it all, the lightning struck another 15 times; with each flash and clap, I could sense the fear and anxiety rise in the boys. The younger one kept asking, “Where’s Frank? Where’s Frank?” as he held the flashlight for us. The older one tried to calm him between packing and counting the eggs. “She’s almost done,” he called just as she laid her last 2 eggs. Just then, the mother turtle began tossing sand into the hole to cover and hide the eggs that were no longer there. She spent the next 15 minutes burying and circling her nest before slowly waddling back to the ocean waves. Even though we were terrified of the lightning and were getting wetter by the minute, none of us could bring ourselves to take our eyes off her, the mother turtle, even though we had the eggs and had done what we had come to do. In that moment, we were captivated with her majestic presence and we knew we might never witness a sight like this again.