Category: Alabama Coast

So Perfect the Night

So Perfect the Night

The mother loggerhead heaved her massive body on to the white sand beach during a coastal thunderstorm and laid a nest of 119 eggs in her perfectly dug pit. After being satellite tagged “Storm” crawled back to sea, leaving her babies to incubate in the summer heat.

Fifty-seven days later, during a ferocious lightning storm, 87 hatchlings crawled to the salty water of the Gulf and began their lifetime of ocean living. Two more siblings made their appearance later that night.

The next night five more babies crawled out of the nest amid island visitors ooohhh’s and ahhh’s and questions about sea turtles and sharks and sand and practices adopted to assist the turtles. Another emerged later cheered on by children and adults alike. And while it’s wonderful that people take an interest in hatchlings and sea turtles (and anything unrelated to television, video games and other human-created distractions), sometimes it is stressful for those of us charged with keeping the turtles safe as they journey from nest to sea. What is the fine balance between allowing up close and personal viewing and danger for loggerhead hatchlings–a species protected by the Endangered Species Act?

The following night arrived and a few people were still inquiring about the status of additional hatchlings. We heard noise when we listened with the stethoscope but it sounded like the turtles were not progressing past a certain point in their crawl up and out. Tourists lost interest and wandered home. Children were called inside by family and finally the beach got quiet.

The orange moon began to peak above the condos far to the east. Three of us ‘green shirts’ remained, softly sharing stories of animals and the intimate connection women develop with the Earth and four-leggeds, winged-ones, finned-ones and creepy crawlers. The instinctual knowing we have because of our own child birth experiences and the understanding we share with the Earth as she labors with these little hatchlings, draws us closer to each other and to the turtles in the process of being birthed from the womb of the planet.

Stars lit up the sky as they hung close to us, three women sitting with this labor, this unfolding of life. The soft murmer of our voices sprinkled with joyful notes of laughter wove a web of safety as three more hatchlings slowly emerged from their confinement of hard, wet sand. Quietly we crawled beside them allowing them to find their way to the water, encouraging them with low notes of song or words of encouragement until they found their way to the rolling breakers that welcomed them in watery embrace.

Some argue that the method we use to assist the hatchlings is unnatural–using a trench, redirecting them when they head toward artificial light sources. However, the only way to re-create a natural sea turtle’s hatching experience is to return the beach to a natural state….a complete blackout of all lights on the beach and/or removing all buildings and tourists. Extreme? Of course, so we hold up towels or block light these babies are naturally attracted to, otherwise they crawl directly to the light. In the case of this particular nest, every baby made a bee-line due east once they reach the hard-packed sand…directly to the brightly-lit sky of the ‘condo run’ in Gulf Shores. Or like last night, to the house that had an inside light on that was illuminating the sand above the nest.

If humans created the dangers for sea turtle hatchlings, then humans must be responsible for making this right in some way. It is the only moral thing to do. Even if it involves hours of sitting on dark beaches waiting…..waiting….waiting. And for many of us, the willingness to correct mistakes made by humans to help such a vulnerable species knows no bounds.

The natural beach is long gone in Gulf Shores but it is still a place where humans can try to undo harm done to marine species such as sea turtles by giving them safe passage back to their ocean home. In the process we are transformed, we become attuned once again to the cycles of nature–the coming and going of tides, the patterns of stars, weather. In the truest sense, we are healed through our efforts to help sea turtles. With each hour spent, with every turtle that makes it to the water, we right a wrong done when the beaches were leveled and condos raised.

Tiny Turtles of the Silver Moonlight

Tiny Turtles of the Silver Moonlight

It happened at midnight….92 loggerhead sea turtles emerged from their nest and headed through the sugar white sand of West Beach in Gulf Shores, Alabama to their new home in the sea. The moon glade slowly made its way across the Gulf and when it was perfectly aligned with the trench dug to guide them safely, they came out in a mass of flippers, heads and shells.

In a determined almost single file march they didn’t stop until they reached their goal–the silver water awaiting to enfold them and be their realm of wonder, their home.

Crawl crawl crawl crawl…23 minutes from nest to water’s edge. A wave comes close….a pause to look up and experience the magnificence and then another wave and a frenzied crawl to enter the magical ocean.

All babies made their first swim successfully and disappeared into the dark waves. And just an hour later another one made her way out. She paused to rest occasionally and maybe smell the tracks left by her siblings just minutes before her. I sang happy turtle songs to her as I crawled along beside her and advised her to stay away from things with big teeth. I asked Mother Ocean to enfold her and protect her, just as I did her siblings.

May all wildlife find a place in this world. May all humans come to understand the importance of caring for our younger brethren and experience the lessons we can learn from them.

As I prepare for bed at 5 am after a magical 11 hours on the beach, I wish you visions of tiny turtles in the silver moonlight and love.  Always love.

Working for the Greater Good–Transformation as Taught by a Sea Turtle Hatchling

Working for the Greater Good–Transformation as Taught by a Sea Turtle Hatchling

A small, vulnerable being had a major impact in the lives of many people recently. Her story appeared in a video earlier this week and finally, I feel ready to make an attempt to find words about her impact on my life.

Her siblings left the nest three days earlier and she steadily scratched and tried to escape to no avail. When it was time (by NFWS guidelines) to excavate her, it was soon discovered that this little loggerhead sea turtle was trapped in her shell and in the sand wall of the nest. She had managed to free her upper body but was hopelessly stuck, unable to extricate herself from the hard-packed sand. Alone except for the volunteers who had monitored her sounds for three days.

When she was carefully removed, her shell was still rounded as a result of her predicament and so her back flippers were crossed. Her left front flipper was tucked at her side. She was seriously movement-impaired and her upcoming walk was a long one…followed by a 30 mile or so swim to the sargasm seaweed beds floating far offshore in the Gulf of Mexico.

To facilitate stretching, she was placed in a sandy pit and monitored by volunteers. Crawling on the sand would help her uncurl and relax from her cramped position. After about 20 minutes, she began to tire so she was placed in a shallow pit filled with sea water and allowed to swim. She seemed to visibly relax and as she swam about, her flippers began to move…all of them.

Several of us monitored her progress and encouraged her to move and expand the range of motion her flippers had heretofore not experienced. But darkness approached and she needed the black of night to give her the best chance of making the long swim to the sargasm seaweed beds.

So back to the sand after she was hydrated and had improved movement. This time in the trench her brothers and sisters used three days prior to crawl to the sea. By the time she reached the water she was able to crawl in a straight line, rather than the spiral pattern she made after first being rescued. She made it to the water and hopefully was able to move deeper into the Gulf, to a place of safety where she could more fully recover from her entrapment.

In the moment of working with an injured or fatigued wild animal the focus must remain on their best interest. To be present with them, emotions are set aside and everything is devoted to helping them have the best chance of survival. Especially with a threatened or endangered animal…it feels like so much more at stake. So much more hangs in the balance.

It was later, during the next day that I realized what an impact this tiny being made on me. As I reflected back to beach, my mind recalled grown men encouraging her, children, women….all of us were present for her, cheering her on and hoping for a miracle. Another miracle actually. It was already amazing that she survived three days (or maybe more) trapped in her shell.

Terry Tempest William says that to love is to be hurt, to feel pain. Love involves an open heart and with an open heart we will  experience grief, feel sadness, joy, excitement–the full range of emotions. To close our hearts is to stop love from moving through us and that makes us ineffective as instigators of positive change in the world.

I’m not saying everyone should be a sea turtle volunteer. I am suggesting that we keep our hearts open, willing to feel everything that comes with loving. If we close our hearts to pain, we shut them down from loving and therefore abandon everything that needs us, that desperately needs humans to step up and work for the greater good.

Recently one of my mentors, Joanna Macy, thanked me for not abandoning my grief. I’ve pondered this and understand now that she was thanking me for keeping my heart open.

To honor all life, no matter how great or small, may we keep our hearts open and stand ready to help wherever our soul prompts us to go.

12 Hours on the Beach

12 Hours on the Beach

Shuuuuuuuuuuuu…..shuffle..shuffle……SHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU…..shuffle–crawl….. Silence.

Cycles of tides, rhythms of waves, calls of gulls as they make their last patrol over the sand……shuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu…shuffle….shuuuuuuuuu….the sounds of sea turtle hatchlings as they break free of their eggs and begin their long crawl from under the white quartz sand.

On July 23rd the sea turtle nest East Beach team had been monitoring for Laguna Key team was wildly active. We continued to hear cascades of sand that lasted over 90 seconds and they came often. Then vigorous digging began as the loggerheads slowly made their way up against the pull of gravity and toward the pull of something even greater for them–the Gulf of Mexico.

As we patiently waited and watched for the young ones to emerge, the waves continued to whisper to them and to us. Stars called out to their internal timing and the crescent moon teased them with light as it silently slipped over the watery horizon leaving us in the dark–expectant, hopeful for a birthing.

Little by little team members drifted homeward, needing rest and renewal. Finally four of us sat vigil under the starry, summer sky. With microphone and speaker still connected to the sand outside the nest, we listened for hours to the cascading sand, the scrapes, the crawling noises and silences as the hatchlings rested, weary from their efforts to reach the night sky.

Alas, even though a deep crater had formed, sunrise thwarted the babies best efforts and so they spent the hot day resting, preparing for another nighttime attempt to merge with saltwater where their mother and father drifted in the blue-green water, never to see the tiny ones their union created.

I can’t remember the last time I spent the night on the beach. During those twelve hours my body and mind became more attuned to the rhythms of nature, more at ease with sitting in my own silence and simply being, witnessing the tidal nature of life whether lived at the shore or inland. Breathing in starlight, exhaling love for the beauty that surrounds us….what could be more important, more sacred than this?

When words drift away and the mind surrenders its nearly constant effort to analyze and decipher and plan….when we go beyond mind to that place of expansion and breath…where we breathe with the incoming rush of waves and efforts the baby turtles make to be born…we begin to understand that the Earth holds us all in a holy embrace and we labor to be born, over and over again throughout our lives.

—-

The next night 73 tiny loggerheads found their way to the surface of their earthly home and made their way to the sea. Twelve long nights we sat vigil yet it was those last 12 hours that brought me back home….to myself, to the Gulf Coast, to the Path.

Instinctual Wisdom of Sea Turtles

Instinctual Wisdom of Sea Turtles

The warm, sunny day was exactly what the nests needed. After days of torrential rain and cool temperatures, our sea turtle babies were not encouraged to dig. The sand was hardened and wet, like concrete, and the air not conducive to reptile body systems. But this day…this beautiful hot, Gulf Coast day was perfect to assist in a hatching that had seemed imminent two days ago.

Our team was assisting with a nest a couple days behind another one close by and so I arrived early for my shift and walked west to check with the Laguna Key team to see how their nest was progressing. Camera in hand, I meandered in the sand enjoying the heat and sunset hues reflecting on the water. The smell of salt filled the steady breeze off the Gulf. Bliss, peace….heaven maybe.

When Sherry, L.K.’s team leader, saw me she motioned me into the nest area and showed me the crater moving with soon-to-hatch loggerheads. I took several photos and she positioned me there to watch and signal her when flippers or noses or entire bodies emerged. Meanwhile the L.K. team and East Beach team members began arriving and preparations were made to welcome these little turtle angels into the world. (I make no apologies for referring to sea turtle babies as angels, or precious beings or darlings….they make my heart melt and to state my affection for them in any other terms would be grossly dishonest).

I started standing watch around 7.15pm and as the sky darkened I wondered if my eyes would be able to distinguish the dark shadows from newly hatched turtles making a dash for the water. Thankfully the sturdy tarp enclosing three sides of the nest gave me a bit of assurance and I trusted that my eyes would detect movement. So I stood guard beside this nest of tiny beings, unknowingly casting their spell of saltwater magic onto everyone gathered to assist and witness their journey. Tourists, locals and veteran sea turtle volunteers were all helplessly under the spell of hatchlings.

When I returned home I wrote an account of what happened from beginning to end of the event but that doesn’t tell the real story for me. It is a shadow of my personal experience and so it is this deep process of connection with the primitive that I wish to share with you, my faithful and kind readers.

First, I was bewildered to be invited into a sacred space such as this–to stand as watcher of the nest. As I stood gazing into the moving crater, many emotions moved through me. Happiness, joy, excitement are a few but gratitude stood out more than any other feeling. Years ago I watched a loggerhead dig a nest and lay eggs when I was park naturalist at Gulf State Park. I have often been scuba diving and had amazing encounters with sea turtles and even had the opportunity to find a nest and help re-locate it a few weeks ago. But this….witnessing these ancient creatures repeat their miraculous arrival and march to the ocean….well, that was profoundly moving and meaningful.

As I stood waiting and watching, I thought of all the sea turtles I’d seen while diving. Remembering the giant loggerhead I came nose-to-nose with on a night dive in the Bahamas…thinking back to the Hawksbill I observed on my recent trip to Bonaire…and recalling a waltz I witnessed one sea turtle–missing a back flipper–do with a videographer…these experiences filled my mind and I thought, You little ones have such adventures awaiting you– coral reefs, sharks, divers, jellyfish, sponges, sea weed, and possibly even returning to this very beach to nest in 20 years or so. I’m not sure sea turtles can receive images via their reptilian brains, but in those moments before they emerged, I saw clear visions of what can be for them. Wondrous, amazing experiences. Beauty beyond belief. All possible.

A nose appeared while the sky was still light and quickly ducked back under the cover of white sand. Yet the movement continued as babies pushed their way up, up to their first glimpse of starlit skies. Their first breaths of salty air.

As the sky darkened all hope of capturing images of the babies evaporated and I surrendered to the moment, to the miracle of life. And before long, when the stars had outwitted the sun and twinkled brightly in the black sky, the hole turned black with babies and they began their journey from earth to ocean.

I watched carefully as some tried to climb the embankment instead of follow their siblings to the water. Carefully, gently I pushed sand under them and they slowly slid back into the chaotic line of purposeful movement, instinctually drawn to light reflecting on the water and the smell of water. One youngster veered far off course and another team member asked me to hand the baby to him so he could take him to rejoin the others. Oh so gently I lifted the fat and lively loggerhead baby into Rick’s hands and smiled as he went off to join the others. I whispered blessings to each one, to all and asked angels to help them in their life’s journey.

What makes sea turtles know to be quiet when someone approaches the nest? What makes them duck from the light and await the cover of night to make their journey? How do they find their way back 20 years later to lay eggs of the same beach from which they were born?

Science has a way of explaining it but for me it’s pure instinctual wisdom that can never be explained. It’s the primitive connection to the Earth and Ocean that simply is. This level of wisdom is something many humans find difficult to believe because we live disconnected from the cycles of nature, the tides, the seasons.

Sitting the last ten days on the beach for four or five hours at a time in darkness has made me intensely aware of the rhythms of nature. And I crave more, want more barriers between me and the Earth, between the Ocean and me to fall away so there is only union between us, only connection….only flow.