Birthing Turtles in Nicaragua (part 2)

Yesterday I wrote about the sea turtle whom I called Olive (because she was an Olive Ridley turtle) who climbed onto our beach in Nicaragua under the protective eye of the Turtle Police and thought about laying her eggs here, but changed her mind and went back into the sea

Last night, about nine p.m., I was treated to a once-in-a-lifetime experience when Emilio (who is originally from Nicaragua and is now married to our daughter Eleni) took us two beaches away to La Flor Wildlife Refuge, one of seven beaches in Central America which protects the sea turtles who flock here in mass arrivals of thousands at a time (called arribadas) between August and December.  Each female turtle will lay as many as 100 eggs and bury them in the sand.

Then, 40 to 50 days later, the eggs hatch and great flocks of baby turtles emerge from the sand (usually at night) and crawl to the sea, building up their muscles during this dangerous trek when they are at the mercy of seabirds and other prey.

They launch themselves into the ocean and begin to swim--traveling as far away as Chile and Alaska.  Then, when the females are ready to lay their eggs, they return here to Nicaragua.

The biggest nesting crowds come in  November and December, so their eggs are hatching now.  The park rangers who man the  refuge are there day and night.  For about ten dollars (five dollars if you're local) they let you visit the beach at night and watch the babies emerge and  head for the sea.

Last night, when we arrived, they handed us a basket of baby turtles which had emerged during the day and been collected for their protection until nightfall.  They told us to follow the path straight ahead and to deposit the babies on the sand three meters before the surf.

They gave Emilio red cellophane to put around his lantern and warned us to take photos only without flash--I complied. (The baby turtles will follow any light in their effort to get into the water.)

On our way to the beach we encountered a group of visitors gathered around a large female turtle who was straining to lay her eggs in the sand.  We knew it was not our friend Olive from the day before, as she had a chunk out of her shell from a shark bite.

 Farther down we saw several huge flocks of babies emerging from the sand.  I dragged my feet and scuffled along, terrified of stepping on the babies

 Just ahead of the water we deposited "our" babies on the sand and then shouted encouragement as they headed for the light held by Emilio as he stood in shallow water.  He wanted to help the front runner  along, but we insisted he practice "tought love" so Speedy Gonzalez, as I dubbed him, developed the strength to swim to Alaska.

We stood, feet planted in the sand, while many babies crawled right over our feet and began to swim.  It was a thrilling experience--certainly one to put on your "bucket list" of things to do before you die.

Beside watching the birth of countless baby turtles, I saw the stars for the first time last night in all their splendor--a bowl of stars overhead, the familiar constellations I had studied as a child, but behind these familiar stars, there wasn't darkness, but a strange, foggy , bumpy background of light, like a chenille bedspread with a  faint glow.  I figured it must be the light reflected from far distant galaxies I'd never seen before.

The rangers at the refuge keep a hand-written chart of how many turtles come to lay their eggs each year.  The figure varies greatly from around 87,000 to as high as 186,000.  They predict from the numbers so far, that this will be a record year.

We all felt blessed to witness the birth of one of nature's  bravest and most endangered creatures.

Turtle (and Bird and Monkey) Watching in Nicaragua

We’re on Day Five in magical Nicaragua and we’ve encountered a lot of exotic tropical animals and flowers so far.

Yesterday we left the Island of Ometepe, made up of two connected volcanoes in gigantic Lake Nicaragua.  We sailed to the mainland and drove to San Juan Del Sur where, after driving about half an hour on an unpaved dirt road, we reached our friends’ villa on the beach called Playa del Coco.

Last night we watched a magnificent sunset as tiny hermit crabs scurried on the beach, leaving tracks like a zipper’s teeth.  

This morning the big excitement was when a sea turtle—I believe her species is called Olive Ridley-- landed on the beach and began plodding in to lay her eggs in the sand.

The men who are security guards for this complex of villas are also the turtle police, I discovered. 

They make sure no one gets close enough to the turtle to scare her, and once she digs a nest and lays her eggs and leaves, they will take the eggs to an incubator and keep them safe for forty days until they are ready to hatch. Then they’ll put them back in the nest to hatch and crawl back into the water. 

(I learned in Greece that the walk from the nest to the water is the most dangerous part of baby turtles’ life—they are often eaten by birds—but if you lift the turtles and carry them to the water, they will drown, because they need to develop their muscles on the trek to the water.)

Anyway, this lady turtle,( let’s call her Olive),  was watched from afar by us and the turtle police, (talking to each other by walkie talkies).  They pointed out that she had a chunk out of her shell because she had been bitten by a shark, but was fine anyway.

Unfortunately,  after finding a place for her nest, she was approached by a bird which evidently changed her mind,  and she  staggered slowly back to the water to perhaps  come up on another beach farther down  Olive was a bit off in her timing.  In August and September these turtles  storm ashore in flotillas of 3,000 or more at a time, completely covering the beach—according to  Lonely Planet, Nicaragua.  I just hope that Olive found a safe place to lay her eggs off season.

Yesterday, on the dirt road to Playa del Coco, we encountered some Mono Coco, which our hosts translated as Howler Monkeys. I didn’t hear them howl but was delighted to get a photo.

While still on La Isla de Ometepe we followed a path into the jungle looking for monkeys, but only encountered this baby pig.

 We also had fun eating in the excellent restaurant at Villa Paraiso--our resort of charming thatched-roof casitas--watching the large crested blue birds called Urraca perched near by, waiting to steal our food.  

One of them hopped on a nearby table, expertly removed the Saran wrap cover to the sugar bowl and dove in, evidently working up to a sugar high judging by the loud caws and various begging noises uttered as they begged for more food.  (My computer translates the Urracha as Magpies but I don’t believe it, since Magpies are black and white.  Can anyone tell me the English language name of these birds?)

Here is a photo of a dead fish I found on the beach this morning.  I thought it made a nice design.

Now I’m going out to explore the tide pool.