For our last weekend in Chiapas we wanted to get in some R&R, but of course we had to do it Mike and Faith style. We took a collective taxi boat ride through the mangroves that separate the sandbars from the mainland of Chiapas and landed on the sandy beach of Barra Zacapulco. On one side there is the ocean and on the other is a mangrove waterway with only about a quarter mile of land in between the two. This sandy island hosts small shrubs, coconut palms and other hearty vegetation that thrive under harsh coastal conditions. We were ready to spend the weekend on the beach soaking up some rays, splashing in the waves, and volunteering at the turtle sanctuary.We met with Carlos “Tortuga” Ochoa, who I had met in June during a visit with my field study class, and discussed what work we may be doing around the site. There was only one bed available, but we came prepared. Amber got to have the bed with the mosquito net while Faith and I camped in our tent on the sand. There is a basic kitchen with a gas stove that works well enough and we had brought food for ourselves to last the entire weekend. We had to bring our own drinking water in a large Sparkletts type jug because the only fresh water available comes from a well and the water has become deep red in color from the mangrove roots.
Obviously this water wasn’t suitable for drinking, so instead we used it to shower, wash dishes, and to flush our toilet with. A row of coconut palms were all that stood between us and the white foam covered waves. The turtle sanctuary is about a ten minute walk down the beach from a group of restaurants under palapa roofs. By a group of restaurants I mean competing relatives of Carlos’s family all who serve the same two dishes- fish that was just caught, or shrimp that was just caught. 
Our first day on the beach we got ourselves accustomed to the living conditions and checked out all that the tortuguero had to offer. At 5:00 p.m. there was another batch of newly hatched sea turtles that needed to be released, so all four of us piled onto a 4x4 ATV and took the babies down to the palapa restaurants to share the experience with anyone there. We gathered a group of people and each let go of a turtle and cheered it on as it made its way to the water. If this was going to be a daily experience any back breaking labor we had in store would surely be worth it.
Carlos sat with us and discussed the plight of the sea turtle and explained how Chiapas has four turtle sanctuaries and that his was the newest and smallest. There are only two people on staff and they spend twenty days at a time living there. Twenty days on and ten days off is the schedule that alternates between Carlos and Rodulfo, the other man who tends to the sanctuary. We learned how every night around midnight they patrol the 27 kilometers of beach on their sandbar looking for freshly laid eggs and poachers who might be stealing eggs off the beach. Sea turtles and their eggs are protected under Mexican federal law, but poachers still comb the beach for eggs to sell on the black market. Carlos and Rodulfo strive to show the importance of strengthening this beautiful aquatic species and hope the more people learn about them the less people would consider them as merely an exotic food. 
Rescued sea turtle eggs are removed from the beach and reburied in a corral that is fenced and monitored. It takes a sea turtle egg forty-five days to hatch and since the beach is patrolled nightly a highly accurate calendar can be formed about when the eggs were laid and when they will be hatching. We got to witness hatchlings crawl out of the dirt, take in their first breath of beach air and scramble in the direction of the ocean within their protected space in the corral.
Each day’s new sea turtle babies are collected, counted, and documented in detailed records. The reason for the 5:00 p.m. release is because at that time the tide is the calmest and there are fewer predators such as birds that would normally be hovering overhead. The baby sea turtles aren’t just placed in the ocean, they are given a three meter distance of sand to traverse before they can begin their swim.
When asked why the turtles are placed at this distance instead of simply being released into the water we were told it was to help the newborn remember where they came from because in twelve years they will return with their mate to the same exact beach to lay their own eggs. We were reminded of how nature has a rational explanation for things and if a piece of the process is removed the cycle is broken.
This reminded me of something I heard about that had happened at a well known zoo in California. We learned that when giraffes give birth the baby drops and hits the ground from the height of over five feet. The staff at the zoo felt they needed to soften the blow for the newborn and placed nets under the mother to catch the newborn calf. The mortality rate of the baby giraffes began rising, it turned out that the fall to the earth actually aided in the jump starting of the newborn’s heart. A sad fact that we also came to know was that the rate of survival into adulthood for a sea turtle hatchling is 1 in 1000. All the work being done at the tortuguero has definitely increased the chances for the future generations of this species, but it still is a long hard road ahead of these turtles to avoid extinction.
Our first night we were invited by Carlos to accompany him on his nightly patrol, but my sleep schedule got the best of me and I regrettably missed my chance. I wasn’t about to let this happen the next night though. The next morning we got up as the sun turned our tent into an oven and us into dinner roasts, around 7:30 a.m. Carlos had already been up for a while and we slowly made our way to the kitchen to cook up some breakfast. After a quick bite we were told that we were going to be cleaning out the turtle pools. I got to actually jump into the area where the turtles swam, drained the water, scrubbed the walls, and made sure all the sand was removed. Amber picked up each turtle one by one and gave their shells a nice scrubbing making them presentable for all the coming tourists. I think the turtles pretended to resist, but looked very proud of their glossy backs when she was finished.
The girls painted markers which are used to distinguish each group of eggs. I also helped drain and clean the tank that held different types of turtles and an endangered fish. I didn’t know how cautious to be with the little turtles, but after watching Carlos displace them throughout the tank with his broom like living hockey pucks I wasn’t too concerned about disturbing them. I asked Carlos if we were going to drain all the water and he said, “of course,” I gave him a quizzical look because I didn’t understand what was going to become of the precious endangered fish. I watched as the fish huddled together near the drain, a cyclone formed and the fish protested by thrashing in the water that was shallower than half their body’s height. Carlos didn’t seem concerned in the slightest and continued to scrub away at the walls.
After the tank was satisfactorily cleaned Carlos looked at me and said, “now move those fish to the other end of the tank so we can clean by the drain.” This he told me had to be done by hand, I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not because earlier he had mentioned that the fish had sharp enough teeth to cut off a finger. I had no choice but to go with it and I picked up each fish one by one and carried them across the tank as they thrashed within my hands. After the cleaning we moved the fish back near the drain by sliding them across the tank floor, one even went between two box turtles and I was this close to shouting, “GGGOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!”
The next few days were filled with a lot of hammock swinging, ocean swimming, sun tanning, and the occasional group of tourists coming to see what the tortuguero was all about. I listened intently as Carlos gave tours to the groups. On one of the later days there was even an instance where Carlos was nowhere to be found so I ended up giving a full tour of the grounds to a group all in Spanish. I felt as if I had done a good job when I saw one of the tourists drop some pesos into the donation jar. We also helped Carlos maintain the living quarters by keeping it swept and we got to go out with him at night when he patrolled the beach. It was pretty intense having four people with no protective gear ride through the night over sand dunes on a vehicle made for one. The stars twinkled brightly in the moonless sky as we swerved to miss the water as it washed up on shore.
I am writing this last part 40,000 feet in the air as we leave Mexico for the states. I am reminded of the lyrics to “I Left My Heart In San Francisco” because there is a pulling sensation I cannot deny that feels as if I belong where I just left. We learned a great deal from all the people we have met and I will have a final post containing reflections on our experiences and what they meant to us. One valuable lesson we have come to understand by getting involved with the turtle sanctuary is: Nature doesn’t seem to make too many mistakes, intervention isn’t always the solution, and adaptation is something that must be done on one’s own terms.
Rescued sea turtle eggs are removed from the beach and reburied in a corral that is fenced and monitored. It takes a sea turtle egg forty-five days to hatch and since the beach is patrolled nightly a highly accurate calendar can be formed about when the eggs were laid and when they will be hatching. We got to witness hatchlings crawl out of the dirt, take in their first breath of beach air and scramble in the direction of the ocean within their protected space in the corral.Each day’s new sea turtle babies are collected, counted, and documented in detailed records. The reason for the 5:00 p.m. release is because at that time the tide is the calmest and there are fewer predators such as birds that would normally be hovering overhead. The baby sea turtles aren’t just placed in the ocean, they are given a three meter distance of sand to traverse before they can begin their swim.
When asked why the turtles are placed at this distance instead of simply being released into the water we were told it was to help the newborn remember where they came from because in twelve years they will return with their mate to the same exact beach to lay their own eggs. We were reminded of how nature has a rational explanation for things and if a piece of the process is removed the cycle is broken.
This reminded me of something I heard about that had happened at a well known zoo in California. We learned that when giraffes give birth the baby drops and hits the ground from the height of over five feet. The staff at the zoo felt they needed to soften the blow for the newborn and placed nets under the mother to catch the newborn calf. The mortality rate of the baby giraffes began rising, it turned out that the fall to the earth actually aided in the jump starting of the newborn’s heart. A sad fact that we also came to know was that the rate of survival into adulthood for a sea turtle hatchling is 1 in 1000. All the work being done at the tortuguero has definitely increased the chances for the future generations of this species, but it still is a long hard road ahead of these turtles to avoid extinction.
Our first night we were invited by Carlos to accompany him on his nightly patrol, but my sleep schedule got the best of me and I regrettably missed my chance. I wasn’t about to let this happen the next night though. The next morning we got up as the sun turned our tent into an oven and us into dinner roasts, around 7:30 a.m. Carlos had already been up for a while and we slowly made our way to the kitchen to cook up some breakfast. After a quick bite we were told that we were going to be cleaning out the turtle pools. I got to actually jump into the area where the turtles swam, drained the water, scrubbed the walls, and made sure all the sand was removed. Amber picked up each turtle one by one and gave their shells a nice scrubbing making them presentable for all the coming tourists. I think the turtles pretended to resist, but looked very proud of their glossy backs when she was finished.The girls painted markers which are used to distinguish each group of eggs. I also helped drain and clean the tank that held different types of turtles and an endangered fish. I didn’t know how cautious to be with the little turtles, but after watching Carlos displace them throughout the tank with his broom like living hockey pucks I wasn’t too concerned about disturbing them. I asked Carlos if we were going to drain all the water and he said, “of course,” I gave him a quizzical look because I didn’t understand what was going to become of the precious endangered fish. I watched as the fish huddled together near the drain, a cyclone formed and the fish protested by thrashing in the water that was shallower than half their body’s height. Carlos didn’t seem concerned in the slightest and continued to scrub away at the walls.
After the tank was satisfactorily cleaned Carlos looked at me and said, “now move those fish to the other end of the tank so we can clean by the drain.” This he told me had to be done by hand, I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not because earlier he had mentioned that the fish had sharp enough teeth to cut off a finger. I had no choice but to go with it and I picked up each fish one by one and carried them across the tank as they thrashed within my hands. After the cleaning we moved the fish back near the drain by sliding them across the tank floor, one even went between two box turtles and I was this close to shouting, “GGGOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!”
The next few days were filled with a lot of hammock swinging, ocean swimming, sun tanning, and the occasional group of tourists coming to see what the tortuguero was all about. I listened intently as Carlos gave tours to the groups. On one of the later days there was even an instance where Carlos was nowhere to be found so I ended up giving a full tour of the grounds to a group all in Spanish. I felt as if I had done a good job when I saw one of the tourists drop some pesos into the donation jar. We also helped Carlos maintain the living quarters by keeping it swept and we got to go out with him at night when he patrolled the beach. It was pretty intense having four people with no protective gear ride through the night over sand dunes on a vehicle made for one. The stars twinkled brightly in the moonless sky as we swerved to miss the water as it washed up on shore.
Carlos stopped at a area that had been obviously disturbed by a sea turtle. The sand had been moved in a distinct pattern which is an indicator of where eggs may be. With a wooden stick Carlos prodded the sand randomly over a large area feeling for differences in the sand. He concluded the turtle might have gotten stage fright and not actually laid any eggs. We continued on course and bats flew up off the sand around us and we even spotted the rare Mapache, a “bear like creature” as described by Carlos, which turned out to be a common raccoon. 
The days blended together and our deadline to get back came rushing up on us faster than we would have liked. Looking back on our time at the beach I cherish the memory of watching Carlos net fish off the shore under the blanket of stars. His net silently cast an oblong shape that lit up the water because of the red tide (small phytoplankton that illuminate when disturbed). I could see his net drape down to the ocean sand before he began towing in the line. The net left a trail of bioluminescence as Carlos pulled in his catch. After a few brisk shakes of the net small fish fell onto the sand that I deposited into a bucket. If we were to catch any good sized fish I would get the opportunity to eat one myself. We chose several locations along the beach and collected over 15 fish, too small for us, but great size to be cut up and fed to the crocodile and turtles at the sanctuary. Carlos’s work pays little, but it is a labor of love. Catching fish for the animals on site is part of the job because there is no funding to feed them daily. 
We weren’t happy to leave this special place where time is calculated by the heat, sound of the crashing waves, and the smell of the wind. It seemed arbitrary to pay close attention to what the name of the day we were in was. While here there always seemed to be enough time for everything, something completely foreign to where we would be returning to. Yet the calendar called our name and our flight was just around the corner. So, we thanked Carlos for all his servitude and hospitality and told him to expect to see us again.
The days blended together and our deadline to get back came rushing up on us faster than we would have liked. Looking back on our time at the beach I cherish the memory of watching Carlos net fish off the shore under the blanket of stars. His net silently cast an oblong shape that lit up the water because of the red tide (small phytoplankton that illuminate when disturbed). I could see his net drape down to the ocean sand before he began towing in the line. The net left a trail of bioluminescence as Carlos pulled in his catch. After a few brisk shakes of the net small fish fell onto the sand that I deposited into a bucket. If we were to catch any good sized fish I would get the opportunity to eat one myself. We chose several locations along the beach and collected over 15 fish, too small for us, but great size to be cut up and fed to the crocodile and turtles at the sanctuary. Carlos’s work pays little, but it is a labor of love. Catching fish for the animals on site is part of the job because there is no funding to feed them daily. 
We weren’t happy to leave this special place where time is calculated by the heat, sound of the crashing waves, and the smell of the wind. It seemed arbitrary to pay close attention to what the name of the day we were in was. While here there always seemed to be enough time for everything, something completely foreign to where we would be returning to. Yet the calendar called our name and our flight was just around the corner. So, we thanked Carlos for all his servitude and hospitality and told him to expect to see us again.I am writing this last part 40,000 feet in the air as we leave Mexico for the states. I am reminded of the lyrics to “I Left My Heart In San Francisco” because there is a pulling sensation I cannot deny that feels as if I belong where I just left. We learned a great deal from all the people we have met and I will have a final post containing reflections on our experiences and what they meant to us. One valuable lesson we have come to understand by getting involved with the turtle sanctuary is: Nature doesn’t seem to make too many mistakes, intervention isn’t always the solution, and adaptation is something that must be done on one’s own terms.
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