Our alarm went off at 5:30 a.m. and begrudgingly but purposefully, I pushed myself through the mosquito net surrounding our bed and set myself to the task of making coffee. This is key, because without that first cup, my brain doesn’t function in any meaningful sense. Minutes later, Jordan joined me in the kitchen. We finished our cups and stumbled down the beach to Roberto’s Bistro.
Roberto’s makes good food, strong margaritas and a very nice red salsa, but we weren’t there for a breakfast margarita (I’m told this is a thing, don’t judge me). Rather, we had planned to meet a 25 year old named Juan Carlos Rosas Cruz, whose family owns the restaurant and, more relevant to this pre-dawn hour, the neighboring sea turtle hatchery. Juan Carlos appeared from his bungalow a few minutes after we arrived and started checking over his two four-wheelers. Waking up to a dead vehicle is a constant concern here, where many vehicles are old and the salt air wreaks havoc on them. After deciding on one of them, the three of us loaded up and headed out onto the still-dark beach.
Juan Carlos drove slowly over the sand, looking for sea turtle tracks. When we found some, I felt surprised at how light they appeared. Mere wisps of sand, I would have driven right past them without a glance. Juan Carlos directed us to look for a small but sturdy stick amidst the nearby driftwood. Once obtained, he used this stick to poke around the area where the nest would be.
The mother packs down the sand a bit when she buries the nest, he explained. The sand right above the nest will be firmer than the surrounding sand. A few pokes and he began digging. About 30cm below the surface, we saw a clutch of spherical eggs. They looked for all the world like ping-pong balls. You wanna dig? he asked. A moment later, Jordan was past her elbows in sand. We took turns gingerly excavating the eggs. Juan Carlos suggested picking up five at a time, but we felt like we’d crush any more than three of them. We filled the bag with 77 soft, warm Olive Ridley sea turtle eggs and continued the patrol.
This was the only intact nest we found this morning. We came across two others that had been dug up, probably by dogs. Dogs and cats are the turtle’s two biggest local natural predators while the eggs are buried. Horses pose another risk, as horseback rides along the beach are a local tourist staple and the horse’s sharp hooves and heavy steps have been known to squash the occasional nest.
If he had more people helping him, Juan Carlos said, he could organize more frequent nest-hunting patrols. As things are, he splits his time between the hatchery, the restaurant and working on his engineering degree. For him, the hatchery is a labor of love. Sometimes friends help him with the odd patrol or turtle release, but the bulk of his help comes from tourists during the high season, running roughly from November to April. In a country where government assistance for environmental conservation efforts is virtually nonexistent, Juan Carlos said that tourism is really the only thing keeping his operation alive.
There are good reasons to want to keep sea turtle populations healthy. Sea turtles play a vital role in the beach maintenance by laying their eggs on them. The eggs contain nutrients that the beaches would otherwise lack, providing sustenance for grasses that help stabilize the sand and that keep it from being reclaimed by the pounding waves. Sea turtles also feast on one of mankind’s least favorite swimming partners, jellyfish. With some turtles estimated to eat up to 73% of their considerable body weight in jellyfish every day, they keep beach waters in swimming-friendly conditions.
Sea turtles help keep local fisherman in business by grazing on sea grasses. Grazing encourages the grasses to spread out their area of growth, thereby providing shelter that many fish species rely upon for both protection and breeding. As stocks of economically valuable fish like tuna and marlin continue to decline, the pro-fisheries effects of sea turtles will become increasingly important.
I asked Juan Carlos if he gets any assistance from the local population in and around Troncones. Not really, he said. One of the problems that he has with getting local help is that many of the locals think that he is running his hatchery for profit and are unwilling to help for free. In a land of entrepreneurs, the perception that conservation should serve a financial end is pretty common. Juan Carlos always encourages donations from people who visit the hatchery and these are often used to help pay his friends to keep it running while he’s away at school. Nonetheless, it makes for inconsistent payments, especially during the low season.
We’ve been back to the turtle hatchery a few times since then. When people visit, we take them there to help out with the turtle releases. It’s nice to support the turtle rescue effort here and, let’s be honest, newborn turtles are really cute. (Kittens eat turtles because cats instinctively kill their competition.)
Although sea turtles lay eggs throughout the year, September and October mark a particularly high point. Right now, a few friends of Juan Carlos are doing 2 – 3 patrols a day to recover all the eggs that they can. It’s been a low year. Juan Carlos says that on average, roughly 100,000 eggs are hatched each year at his hatchery. He’s only seen about half the number that he usually gets by now and worries that the final tally will fall well short of the average.
What can you do, he asked with a shrug. It’s an uphill battle. We rescue all that we can, clean the beaches, try to get fishermen to use nets that don’t trap the turtles, teach our kids the value of conservation and hope that things improve.
