Participating everyday in these 4-10mile days of patrols, I was begiiiining to feel as tho the experience may get monotonous, or that our service whas one of going thru the motions solely for science's accuracy's sake (which is of value). but the last couple days have taught me that we are also here to protect these animals to a much higher degree than expected.
On monday morning two of my fellow RA's- Delfina, la ssshhhica de argentina, and Andy, adventure boy from whales- went out to the morning patrol on the national park side. The scientific purpose of patrolling the entire beach everymorning is to get an accurate number of turtles who came up to nest the previous night, as well as the number of nests that were successfully laid (about half), and thus further analize populatiom numbers in the region.; As they approached the townside of the beach (usually the part we supervise with more care the previous night, because the shameless poachers simply come out to their "back yard" and grab turtle for dinner), and they found an usual track. This track turned from a flipper movement to a clean tunnel slide.... this means the 300 pounder was flipped on its back (cooperates better) and then dragged to the end of the beach, where she was butchered to pieces... :( leaving behind the top carapace and a high mess of yolk from the eggs she was coming to lay. SOBs (don't worry this story does have a happy ending)
A bit distraught they continue on, and very closely they find another one, still intact on her back... possibly awaiting the poacher's return. It wasn't until a minute or so that they saw movement. This poor roasting under the sun turtle was still alive! Between the both of them and newfound hulkhogen strength, they flipped her over, broken flipper and all and helped her to the water. She was extremely exhausted and struggling from her injury, but the worst was over, and in the water she'd expectedly receive a smooth recovery.
tan tan
Second rescue story was this morning, during patrol at Boca. Nestor, the Colombian super tracker (a poacher himself turned conservationish and activist), and I began at mile -2/8, and carried on with our usual bus. The first half of this tracking is usually tight to walk through, waves washing up to the vegetation line, so tracks and/or nests are usually unsuccessful intents. Anyhow, my role was nest counter and surveyer, while Nestor was marking tracks. climbing thru, We both notice a peculiar track, identifying an indecisive and determined turtle swerving thru branches and old nests, to find her perfect spot. no return track nor dragged poached track was found... so we decided to investigate further. after some time and seconds away from writing it off as tho it shared a back track with another turtle, Nestor spotted a piece of shell (less than 5 inches) peaking out from under a pile of tipped vegetation. Notably, she began escavating at the edge of the sand cliff above her, and escavted to the point of tipping the branches on top of her. stuck but not harmed, we started moving branches out of the way. branches were swarmed with fiscious beach biting ants (im not kidding, a couple dozen on one arm brings about a killer burning sensation). She was moving quite a bit, which was a good sign, meaning she wasn't overly fatigued by the heat and the long stressful night on land. Finally Nestor managed to free her by pulling the right side of her carapace. and without saying thank you of goodbye, mama toodled her way back to sea.
it was a good patrol day!
I would like to add that after having the one on one encounter with the nesting mama and her 160 eggs, i feel like a have a connection with them. like they are "part of me." and i get what they're going thru. i know im being cheesey, but really, now when i go on my rounds, and i see a funny track or a turtle who's "loqueando" (meaning acting crazy because she keeps starting nests but not finishing them, and making a messy battlfield), i chuckle as if it were my buddy who just made a funny. or when i see an ambushed nest, taken over by dogs, voltures or crabs and the hatchlings coming out surfs up mentality unknowing they're coming out to their doom.... and i see the remaining empty baby shells, i determingly try and find the bursted nest to see if there are still a few ones i can safely piggy back to sea (today i did to two more hatchlings). ... They are becoming my family, and anybody who messes with my family should watch out!!
poacher stories to come haha.
closing thoughts: our role is important, and hunches during these heatwave patrol days should not be ignored, there could be a dragged turtle int he jungle, or poachers that could be confronted, or who knows... No lazies allowed
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