Wild Barley

Across the river from the lodge the jungle sat on a narrow strip of land. Here there were more lodges hidden amongst the dense parts but also a village. Sandwiched between the river and the sandy beach, the village essentially had one narrow, main road. Not that there were any cars. Along both sides of the road businesses sat shoulder to shoulder, shops selling food, gifts, clothes, to tables brimming with all manner of hand made crafts. One and two storey buildings, many brightly coloured, all seemingly with corrugated roofs. Compared to the jungle lodge, it was cosmopolitan, bustling with tourists and locals.

When we first climbed out of the boat onto the dock, we headed for a large low lying building with a life sized model of a turtle outside. A short walk away from the river and the main road, past further low lying buildings, one with a beautiful mural of a turtle painted on the side (randomly with a toilet set in front of it (?!)) we hit sand, passed through one last stand of tall palm trees and emerged onto a long, narrow stretch of dark sand littered with drift wood. Beyond this was the dark blue expanse of the Caribbean Sea. Small waves rolled up onto the beach, the water pulling back and pushing in, a relentless rush of white.

At the top of the beach, above the high tide line and almost in the trees, there were numerous big, round indentations. Craters in the sand. Turtle nests.

And here, the meaning behind then name of the town and the area. Tortuguero. Land of the Turtles. The beaches here are a major nesting colony of Green Turtles, with other species such as Leatherback, Loggerhead and Hawksbill also nesting. 22 miles of beach is protected with an average of 15,000 Green Turtles nesting each year, and the region is one of the most important rookeries in the Atlantic.

The opportunity then to take a trip out to the beach at night to witness this natural phenomena was not then to be missed.

Later that night, the boat returned across the river to that narrow stretch of land in the pitch dark. The light of the boat reflected on the ripples created by its hull as it skimmed over the waters surface. The sky above brimmed with thousands of stars, the first clear night we had seen since arriving in Costa Rica. The boat landed to the north of the village, and we clambered out of the boat, walked onto the tarmac of a narrow runway, tall trees closed on either side. A short walk with torches bobbing after our guide and we crossed through the vegetation to once again emerge onto the beach. Soft, sinking sand replaced the hard tarmac beneath our feet. The beach is a wider section compared to this morning at the village. It appears grey in the starry night. Torches off to avoid disturbing the turtles, we were led along the beach a short distance, stumbling occasionally on a piece of debris, trying to keep quiet and keep up.

Finally we stopped and gathered around a large shadowed mass on the sand. A Green Turtle, although she appeared grey and dark in the darkness. She was huge. Not just in length but her massive shell rose up like a dome of pure shell. Its hard to comprehend the size of these creatures until you are up close to them.

She faced away from the ocean, the only sign of which was the ever present sound of waves rolling up onto the sand. Beneath her, between her back flippers and tail, she had dug a deep hole, spending an age scouping up and flicking the sand out of the way, digging down. Now in the quiet of the night, with just the soft voice of the guide explaining what was happening, and the occasional murmur of voices from the group, eggs the size and shape of ping pong balls plopped into the hole.

Peering into the hole we could make out lots of eggs already deposited. On average she will lay 115 eggs in each nest and may repeat the process between two and five times in the season. The temperature of the nest will ultimately determine the gender of the turtles that hatch. If the eggs incubate at above 31 degrees Celsius then the turtles will be female, and if it is below 27.3 degrees Celsius then they will be male.

Having finished laying her eggs, the turtle began scooping sand back on top, burying them. She took her time, making sure they were well buried and secure. Its a little haphazard as she flicks sand back with her front flippers, and scoops it over the top of the nest chamber with her back flippers. Sand is flicked everywhere.

After a while she shifted her whole body, turning round. We moved back as she turned on the spot back towards the ocean. She began to move, hauling herself back across the sand towards the water. She was exhausted, the whole process taking it out of her. She heads back to the water to rest and feed.

I had the lasting impression of her bulk disappearing into the dark, with the sound of waves welcoming her back.

It was quite the humbling experience, watching this majestic, ancient creature, laying her hopes for the next generation, shrouded in darkness, star sparkling in the night sky above and the sound of the ocean and the shift of sand as the turtle moves across the beach, drifting across the air.