My Wild Heart Sings

I arrived at the designated beginning point for my sea turtle patrol twenty minutes early–that’s 5.10am. The last time I was scheduled to patrol it stormed like crazy and even two hours of sitting in my car begging it to stop lightning didn’t change the fact that I missed my search for sea turtle tracks and also missed the quiet morning I enjoy so much when I walk the beach as a Share the Beach Sea Turtle volunteer.

But today was amazing. Clouds from a distant thunderstorm created beautiful artistry in the pre-dawn sky so I set up my tripod and spent 20 minutes shooting time-exposures of saltwater, clouds, reflections…everything a photographer dreams of.

By the time it was light enough to see tracks on the beach, it was a little after 5.30am. I ran my tripod back to the car and began my walk.

I stopped briefly two times, once to check a potential crawl and another time to snap a couple photographs. I moved on and had barely gotten into my patrol area when I found a sea turtle crawl.

I followed alongside the track and found a huge body pit where the mama loggerhead had most definitely labored. I then glanced over to make sure there was a return track and was shaking as I pulled my phone out to call our team leaders. I am good in emergencies and keep a cool head with stressful situations but it took a lot of focus to manage to find the number and call. “I think I have a nest Bonnie!” What I wanted to say was…“OH MY GOD!! SEA TURTLE, SEA TURTLE, SEA TURTLE!!! NEST, NEST, NEST!!!” But I managed to sound a bit more controlled…well…maybe.

The hardest thing was I had to finish the walk which meant another mile or so down the beach to check for other tracks. Some areas get more than one turtle laying per night. So after giving the location to one of my team leaders, I took several photographs and hurriedly walked the rest of my patrol in the early-morning humidity.

If I could have sprouted wings on my feet, I would have to get back to the nest. While finishing the walk my phone rang with the team ‘announcement’ that we had a nest and we needed people to come assist. The mother had run into three beach chairs that caused her to veer off her track and then came into a wooden ‘fence’ of chaise lounge chairs pushed together. She simply stopped there after making a spiral or circular crawl and then dug and laid her eggs very close to the wrack line of the beach. Far too close for safety for the eggs.

When this happens, we are permitted through our training and supervision of our team leaders, we move the nest. Many measurements, GPS location, and data has to be recorded for USFW Service as these are endangered turtles. And we have to have the nest moved and finished before 9am.

After preliminaries, we began a very long effort to find the eggs. The mother loggerhead lays them in a small pit hollowed out by her back flippers. The body pit she left was quite large and with her confusion over lawn chairs and the wooden loungers, she didn’t orient her body in the normal position. But finally, after one hour and 15 minutes, one of our guys discovered the top egg. And this after many of us carefully removed sand handful by handful until we were tired and very sweaty.

The bottom of the pit was 24 inches deep and there were 124 apparently healthy eggs. We had our turtle bucket with its layer of moist sand on the bottom and carefully and lovingly lifted them and placed them gently to await their new nest which was replicated as to size and shape further up the beach near the dune line.

I can share the statistics and the specifics about the nest which some might find interesting. But for me, this event was a light that shined on me just when I needed it.

Over the past couple of weeks I have struggled with frustration and grief over what we are doing to this planet. The more I immerse myself in the hands-on environmental work I’m committed to doing, the more difficulty I have keeping a positive, upbeat outlook. When a mile and a half walk on the beach yields three bags of trash every time I walk it, it begins to make me dislike humans for the arrogance, the selfishness. As I read about environmental challenges happening all over the planet, I get upset.

But I made a promise to stay informed and stay engaged with what is happening to our beautiful Gaia…our Earth. This is my life’s work, this is what I commit my talents and skills to, so to not stay engaged isn’t an option.

Being part of a team of people who passionately love a species that is so precious and beautiful is healing for me. The dedication of people who care–who are willing to give up sleep and meals and sweat a lot just to have an opportunity to help these endangered animals–moves me deeply.

I am now the human mom of 124 eggs that will hopefully emerge as little points of light…loggerhead light…that will grace our Gulf and the Caribbean with ancient instinctual wisdom that many humans can learn from and become a tiny bit wiser from the connection, the interaction.

The heaviness has lifted, the dark cloud dispersed as I have been blessed to work with a group of humans that DO care enough to help a mother turtle who was blocked from performing her task of laying eggs, near the dunes, on a beach in coastal Alabama. A task hindered by other humans ignorant of the plight of sea turtles and their habits.

All who love this beautiful planet must work daily, each in our own way, to help it and all creatures and humans who call it home. This is our greatest task.

What have you done today to help the planet? I’d love to hear your story.