WanderingWhy…

I’m happy to report we finally found the turtles. They were spotted at a local restaurant in Paquera:

Yeah–that sign is for real. Unfortunately I don’t speak much Spanish but you don’t need to in order to figure out what that says. They were even nice enough to draw a picture.

I realize the OCD side of my personality has come out over the last month in my quest to see the turtles. Poor Dawn had to put up with my constant research and requests to wander in search of the turtles. It’s a simple thing really and I don’t know why it proved to be so elusive. That’s probably the reason I got a bit nuts in trying to find them. Somehow it was easier to find them on the menu then on a tour.

If you spend enough time in any country I think you start to see through all the bullshit. Costa Rica likes to bill itself as a mecca for “Eco-Tourism” which is a slick marketing term directed at well-to-do new age hippy types. There are plenty of places in this country that will charge well over $100 a night to stay in a place that has no electric because it’s “quaint” and they are helping to “reduce the impact on the environment.” I think they are just helping to remove money from tourists wallets but maybe it’s just me.

I digress as usual. But on a more positive note, we did see the turtles. In Playa Hermosa on the Pacific coast (just south of Jaco) Dawn found a pamphlet for a turtle conservation project. We looked over the information and saw they had a “hatchery”–perfecto. We asked the hotel if we could walk there and they said “sure, sure.” I don’t know if they thought we were asking for permission or something because we were about to fall over after hiking 4 miles down the beach with only 1 small bottle of water before we found the place. Yes, you can walk there–if you’re as stupid as we were.

I admit I had envisioned an air-conditioned building with tanks and turtles swimming around it. Maybe I’m more “new age hippy” than I realize because there was none of that–this place was the real deal. There was a building with no electric and they just managed to get running water a few weeks earlier. A decrepit building housed the toilet which Dawn would not go near (the love shack was nicer–even the iguana would not visit this bathroom). Volunteers are welcome to stay and contribute a few dollars a day to help pay for food. We chatted with the volunteers and asked if they were going out that night. They said they would start walking the beach at midnight. We asked to see the hatchery and they walked us over to the nesting area:

As you can see there are no tanks. These nests are monitored by the volunteers 24/7 for hatchlings which are then released on the beach.

Dreading the 4 mile walk back and then somehow returning at midnight to walk the beach again, I chatted up another group of tourists to see if we could get a lift back to town. As it turns out the man was a doctor from Miami and owned the Backyard Bar and Hotel where we ate and soaked up the free wireless the night before. After some conversation he realized that I was not an ax murderer and offer us a ride back–sooo thankful for that. If you are in Play Hermosa please patronize the Backyard Bar–the owner is a class act.

So, we returned to the hotel to chill out until nighttime. Around 8 pm it start to rain–Florida style (coming down sideways). No cab driver would take me out there in this weather so no turtle hunting tonight. The next morning we discuss our options: Try and get a cab out and stay the night–nope Dawn’s not staying there. Try and get a cab, arrange for him to come pick us up in the middle of the night–too risky. Rent a vehicle for 1 day, spend the night, and return it to Jaco to catch the bus in the morning–nope, again Dawn is not going to spend the night there. The most expensive option: rent a vehicle and the room and come back when Dawn is tired… probably around 10 pm.

I’m joking of course; Dawn has been a serious trooper so far (most other women would had left my sorry ass by now). We opt to rent a vehicle and return to the reserve. Problem is, I rented a cheap little car (size of most taxis) and the rain has made the bad road more than bad. After driving through the first of 3 lake size puddles we realize this isn’t going to work without oars and return to the rental agency for a good screwing. “I need to upgrade to a 4WD vehicle” I tell the rental agent. He looks out at the mud splattered little car in the parking lot and says he has just one 4WD car left. Of course he does.

“It’s $25 a day more for the car” he says. I’m in it this far now, so what can ya do?

“Okay” I tell him. He starts running through all the paperwork and I start daydreaming out the front window. A huge Ford F350 with a camper in the bed pulls up in front of the place next door. There are surfboards strapped to the roof of the cab and saltwater is pouring off of them. Two road-rough looking surfer types with salt-crusted hair and short beards get out of the truck and walk away. I think, “Man, that looks like some real adventure right there.” I stare at the side of the camper and it has FeralGreen.com stenciled across the side and back. Turns out these guys are on some serious adventure. I wish I had gotten the chance to talk to them (maybe they would have been interested in going out to the reserve as well). Check out their website, it’s quite a story.

So, with new vehicle in possession, we head out to the reserve along the muddy road and splash through all the huge puddles. It’s a blast (I think all the hillbilly rednecks at home are onto something with “4-wheelin”). The man in charge remembers us from the day before and invites us out at 10pm. We ask if he needs anything and he says to wear shoes and bring bug repellent. No, do YOU need anything? from town? He ponders the offer and asks for coffee and cookies but states it’s not necessary.

We return later that night with our gift of coffee and cookies. We’re glad to be able to give something to all the dedicated volunteers there. I imagine coffee is a main staple with the little sleep they get and the odd hours they are awake. One particular volunteer is from Switzerland. Simone has been there for the past week and is really great to us explaining what they do there and translating the Spanish that slips past Dawn.

A few minutes after we arrive we gather with the leader, Simone, one other volunteer, and the resident dog that helps to sniff out the turtle nests. We walk out on the beach in total darkeness (remember there is no power out here) and look up to see them most awe inspiring star filled sky I have ever experienced. It’s truly amazing how much more you can see without light pollution–and how much action there is. I’ve never seen a shooting star but saw at least half a dozen that night.

We walk down the beach and I can’t see more than five feet in front of me. Simone chats with us and explains the nests are sometimes dug up by racoons when they are only a few hours old. After only about 10 minutes of walking and conversation the guide stops us and points to turtle tracks. It’s strange but you can see the tracks better in the total darkness. It looks like a huge monster truck drove out of the Pacific and into the dunes. He follows the tracks up to the dune line and starts to look around the area. He takes his walking stick and explaining in Spanish starts to poke the ground. The only words I recognize are tourtuga” and “huevos” but mannerisms explain a lot and I understand he is explaining that the spot where the nest is will be soft. He finds it and hands the stick to Dawn for her to feel what he has explained.

He puts on a surgical glove and digs up the nest. They place all the eggs in a plastic grocery bag and measure the depth of the nest and the width of the turtle tracks. This data is collected for each nest and combined with data from other sites. The Olive Ridley Sea Turtle is an endangered species and I assume the information collected here is used for further study.

With the nest fully collected, we continue our search down the beach to find nest number two. This is the biggest find of the night with 126 eggs. Lucky for me I get to carry this find down the beach and back and it must weigh 30 to 35 lbs. Not much, but it gets heavy after the 1st mile. The guide tells us this is a different type of turtle but I can’t recall the name.

Wandering on we find more turtle tracks but no nest. The guide walks around the possible nesting area and feels the surrounding driftwood logs. I realize the logs would have sand on them had the turtle dug a nest. He explains that sometimes the turtle does not like the site and will return to the sea. I don’t know why that is. I also don’t know (nor does anyone else) how the turtle knows to return to the same beach they were born on 4 years later to lay eggs… it’s incredible really.

Near the end of the beach we find the 3rd and final nest and return to the main building to bury them. The grounds are set in a grid pattern and labeled by letters and numbers (think battleship). The nests are buried in the same area of the grid so that they know roughly what areas to monitor each night. The turtles will hatch in about 40 days I’m told.

As they were burying the last nest a new visitor showed up. I don’t remember her name but she was a “healer” from San Francisco now living in Escazu (gringo part of San Jose). Everyone in our little group retires for the night and Dawn lays down in the hammock since it’s 12:30 and 3 hours past bedtime. This leaves me and SF girl left to monitor the nests.

After the first two minutes of meeting I learned she had almost drowned when she was young and she loves to help the turtles and she has been to this site 4 times and the first time she was there they released a bunch of turtles and she was watching this one little turtle try to swim out past the waves and he kept getting pushed back but he was trying so hard to swim and she got in the water to try and help him along and before she knew it she was in water up to her chest and she hasn’t been in water that deep since she was 17 and by helping this turtle she realized she was no longer afraid and she likes to help people and she moved here to be close to the river to heal people in the river and turtles represent the earth.

Fuck me. SF girl missed the turn for the new age hippy resort. She was nice enough but with sleep deprivation setting in the next few hours were pretty bizarre listening to this stuff.

Finally around 1 am I shine the light though the screen around a turtle nest and see the sand moving. The baby turtles are covered in sand after crawling up to the surface so it has a camouflage effect until you look closely. I see two or three turtles and decide to go wake up Dawn. As I wander out of the nest area I tell SF girl there are some turtles starting to hatch. She sits bolt up from staring at the stars wondering which orbit she fell out of and says “What!! Where?!?! You’re Kidding!!” I’m tempted to tell her to be quiet or they may crawl back down into the nest, or at least point her in the wrong direction until I return with Dawn but I’m too nice and tell her the spot.

I wake up Dawn and ask if she wants to see the turtles. She mumbles and nods and and I drag her out of the hammock. I felt like an overeager parent dragging a stumbling sleeping kid towards the Christmas tree to see that Santa had arrived. We get there and another volunteer is there with the space cadet. We put some dirt into the bottom of a bucket and open the screen over the nest to take the turtles out. SF Girl looks down at the turtles and says “Awww, do you have to go poopy?” At this point I look at the volunteer’s mag-light and wonder if there is an outgoing tide.

The volunteer tells us we can take the turtles out on the beach and release them. Thankfully SF girl stays in the nesting area to star gaze and ponder the meaning of existence… or more likely how turtles manage to wipe with flippers. We count only 4 turtles and tell freakazoid to enter the numbers in the log book. We later learned (when Dawn gave up on healer girl and entered the information herself) that the nest had hatched 70 turtles the night before and these guys were the late bloomers.

We both have to say, releasing the turtles into the Pacific is by far one of the coolest things we’ve ever got to do in life. They flap along looking a bit disorientated but eventually find their way to the water. One turtle was moving along the water instead of towards it when he suddenly saw/heard (however they sense it) an outgoing wave. He paddled full bore towards it but it slipped away from him and stopped dead in his tracks. I’ve felt exactly the same way when trying to paddle into waves the handful of times I’ve gone surfing. We had a good laugh at that before he caught the next wave and disappeared into the pacific.

Dawn and I retired to the hammock to wait “a little longer.” I know I’m full of it but once Dawn falls asleep does it really matter how long we hang around? Some volunteers get up around 3 am and walk over to the nesting area to check on the “action.” Nothing going on so they go back to bed. This is their routine night after night and Dawn thinks I’m obsessive. I’m glad some people out there are.

Finally I check one last round and wake up Dawn to leave. We get in the SUV and Dawn looks at the clock on the radio. “It’s 4 am!” she says. I think back fifteen years ago when the bars were closing at this time and my friends and I would be heading to the diner for breakfast.

“Want to get some breakfast?”

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