A diary of my experiences as a volunteer for Archelon, the Sea Turtle Protection Society, in Matala, Crete, Summer 2003
Turtle Diary
Saturday, August 30, 2003
Murder on Red Beach (20.08.2003)
Jodie was scheduled to survey Red Beach this morning, but was followed by a dodgy looking guy up the lonely path. When she stopped to let him go past, he hung back, so she wisely decided to turn back. Red beach is very isolated, walled off by cliffs with no habitation and nowhere to run.
I woke just after 8am and volunteered to go instead. I assumed I would be in no danger since (a) I'm male and (b) by that time people are starting to arrive there for a days secluded sun worship.
As I crested the top of the cliffs and Red Beach came into view, I could see that in actual fact no-one had yet arrived. Then, as I started the descent towards the beach I heard voices calling out. I couldn't makeout what was said; from the tone it sounded like when you shout "echo" to hear the echo come back off a distant valley side. A moment later, a single gunshot rang out, the sound bouncing off the encircling cliffs. At this point I got a little spooked... I approached the beach as silently as I could, half expecting to see a blood drenched gunman lurching down the beach.
Of course, the beach turned out to be empty. The gunshot was probably some local sheppard trying ot bag a rabbit for his pot. It certainly spiced up an otherwise uneventful morning survey though. All I saw were ghost crab holes and one ghost crab, scuttling along in the surf. I wathced it for a few minutes, marvelling at its ability to crouch and flatten its body to the sand as a wave struck, able to resist the powerful suck of the receding surf, continuing its journey once the wave withdrew.
In the afternoon Jodie and I excavated ΦAAa10. A very successful nest; 90 out of 117 eggs hatched, 77 hatchlings made it out of the nest on their own. We found 8 more still alive in the nest, which we reburied.
As we cleaned up after finishing , we were treated to a magnificent sunset; we stood side by side, knee deep in the crashing surf as the firey red disc sank into the darkening blue sea.
AB Beach with Owen (19.08.2003)
My first morning survey with Owen since last Tuesday. The first thing we found was a hatchling track from ΦBcd12, just below a Taverna. The shading had been blown down by the wind, and the hatchling had followed the lights of the Taverna out of the shading, under a couple of sunbeds and around a parasol to the back of the beach. After a minute or two searching we found it, heading rather slowly and uncertainly towards the sea.
Owen shepparded the hatchling towards the sea, shading it from the rising sun. I kept the dogs away, and managed to take a few pictures.
I should probably introduce the morning survey dogs. They live locally and have learnt that Archelon volunteers walk the beach each morning. They invariably turn up when we arrive and follow along. In descending order of size, they are: Rock dog - an Alsatian who loves to fetch rocks, which is a problem, since he often picks up the headstones we use to mark the nests. He also has a penchant for water bottles, which is inconvenient to say the least, especially when he decides to steal yours leaving you with nothing to drink during the 6km hike down the beach. Next we have foxy, a reddish dog of meduim size and uncertain parentage; finally we have bad puppy, probably the most popular of the three, a playful black puppy who recently had to be thrown clear when it tried to play with a hatchling.
While O patiently watched the hatchling down to the sea, bad puppy and foxy amused themselves by ripping up nest shading. Only Rock dog was close enough to present any danger. Fortunately (a) he responds quite well to instructions and (b) he is only really interested in rocks.
ΦAop13 hatched again today; two very clear tracks across the pristine white sand, straight to the sea.
As we approached sector Ajk I noticed several people sleeping on the beach - one guy actually on the beach proper and several more up on the back of the beach. A few yards past the guy on the beach was a set of female tracks, including something that looked very much like a camoflage. She had come back down over the up track, so it was difficult to tell exactly where the camoflage began and ended. We staked out quite a large area and continued on down the beach, leaving the search for the nest for our return journey back down the beach (to avoid potentially leaving stranded hatchlings further down the beach drying up in the sun).
We didn't find any more hatchlings but we did find another female emergence right at the end of A beach, looping up and round ΦAAa10. The last attempt looked more like a body pit than a camoflage, but we dug it anyway. The dry sand in this part of the beach is very deep, so it took some time, bulldozering mounds of sand back from the edge of the hole we were excavating with our hands. Rock dog joined in, digging his own hole a couple of meters away, which was helpful as I could push sand from our hole into his (to prevent it falling back in), to his obvious disappointment.
Having excavated down to the wet sand we probed the area carefully using one finger. When we found nothing, we dug down another finger depth and probed again, but still nothing so we mapped the attempt and returned to the other emergence in sector Ajk.
Almost immediately we located what looked like an egg chamber. The wet sand was harder here, and there was a clearly deinfed circular edge roughly 20cm in diameter. Owen probed but didn't feel the telltale "give", so we cleared sand a little further along and found what we assumed was another attempt at an egg chamber. Again, no give; a couple of inches away was a third attempt, and this time Owen's magic finger felt what we were searching for. We scooped out the soft sand and sure enough we found the gleaming white spherical top of the uppermost egg.
At this point I felt extraordinarily lucky. Three nests in three days would be great news even in the height of nesting season (June - July), but here we were in late August. It was almost as if the invisible hand of fate had orchestrated the sequence of events for my benefit.
So, I hve now helped to locate 4 nests. Todays is ΦAjk27, plus ΦCno22, ΦDgh21 and the unmarked nest I found, ΦDbc1UM.
CD Beach with Cat and Chrissie (18.08.2003)
Another nest today! In sector Cno, we found an easily identifiable camoflage. Our first guess (Cat's in fact) was much closer this time. We had only been digging for 10 or 15 minutes when Chrissie felt something - today she was the proud owner of what Owen calls the "Magic Finger". The egg chamber was easy to see, since the wet sand in this part of the beach is quite hard, so the edge of the hole leading to the egg chamber was clearly defined. This time both Cat and Chrissie joined in the crazy celebrations, leaping around like fools in my now established nest dance, although it is quite possible that they were just humouring me. The code for our new nest today is ΦCno22.
On the military section of the beach we bumped into a greek couple, presumably ex-army (a lot of retired army personnel use this part of the beach - the army has sunbeds, shades, showers and a clubhouse on the beach). Owen and I had met them a couple of days ago when we excavated ΦDbc1UM. They asked us lots of questions about the turtles and went on to tell us all about their daughter living in London; a really geuine and friendly pair.
We shaded one of the nests due to hatch soon; it is right in the middle of the army sunbed area, close to the lights of the clubhouse at the back of the beach.
We also shaded ΦDvw9, due to hatch in a few days time, sweating in the late morning sun to find rocks and slabs of concrete to build up around the nest. There are street lamps that run all along the new road at the back of the beach in this section.
The found female tracks on AB beach too today, but no nest. I'm doing morning survey on AB tomorrow with Owen, so maybe we'll be lucky enough to find a third nest in a row...
Wednesday, August 27, 2003
CD Beach with Cat and Amy (17.08.2003)
All seemed quiet on the beach today until we reached sector Dgh, where we spotted female tracks, and what looked as though it could only be a camoflage - a 2.5m section of the track obscured by thrown sand. There was the outline of a body pit at the entrance to the camoflage - possibly where the nest itself was, but we couldn't be certain. Cat made a guess at the location of the egg chamber and (after marking out the area in which the egg chamber could be located) started to dig and probe the sand, searching for the telltale "give" which occurs when you push sand into the air space around the eggs. After 3/4 hour we had dug a large hole, 1.5m long, 0.5m deep and 1m wide, and still no nest. I was determined to keep digging until we had exhausted all possibilities, I felt so sure that this time we had found the real thing.
As we worked towards the end of the camoflage, I was probing the wet sand when I suddenly felt something. My heart lept - the sand really felt as though it had given way. I probed the surrounding area to check it wasn't just a patch of softer sand, but no. With my heart in my mouth I carefully dug down in the spot where I had felt the "give", gently scooping out handfuls of sand. Suddenly, I glimpsed something bright white; maybe just a small white pebble... with trepidation first I brushed away sand with one fingertip, then bent to blow it away. There was no mistaking it now, it was an egg - we had found the nest!
After carefully brushing a little sand back to cover the top of the egg, I'm only slightly embarassed to admit that I danced, whooped and generally made a fool of myself. My joy was unconfined. I must have excavated 6 nesting attempts in the last couple of days and I had begun to think I was never to find a nest, but finally here it was.
We took the first measurement, the depth of the egg chamber. Only when I went to record it did I discover that in my enthusiastic digging I had buried the morning survey book in the sand. Cat fell about laughing as I searched through the quite considerable mounds of sand. Thankfully it didn't take too long to locate.
We finished the measurements and set off again down the beach. For the second time during my stay here I would be unshakeably happy and optimistic for the rest of the day.
Further down the beach we found another emergence. As we stood studying the tracks an army jeep zoomed up and we were called over for an ID check. Several phone calls and radio conversations later we were allowed to go back to the tracks. We found no nest; it seems likely that this was the same female making an earlier attempt before finding a spot to her liking.
The total nest count for Messara Bay this year now stands at 48, not far from the average of 50, which we're hoping we'll exceed.
ΦDpq6 hatched again today; a solitary track lead from the nest to the sea.
The new nest we found today was given the code ΦDgh21.
CD Beach with Ciaran and Amy (16.08.2003)
Another action packed morning today. ΦBtC11 hatched again; two tracks, one to the sea, and one hatchling on its back. I flipped it over and it didn't take long to find its way down. As I glanced up from watching its progress, I caught sight of female tracks just a couple of yards away.
Ciaran and Amy staked out the last attempt as I watched the hatchling into the water, then we all dug. And dug. And dug. For an hour and half we laboured; the attempt had looked more like a camoflage than anything I'd seen so far, and we all felt that this could well be a nest. By the time we stopped we had moved a huge quantity of sand, and my arms and back were aching. Frustratingly, we found nothing.
Its fun to speculate on on what might have happened there last night; the female tracks came up, around the existing nest and back down the other side. Did she see the hatchlings emerge? Did she lumber past unawares, and inadvertantly flip one hatchling, one twentieth her size and quite possibly one of her own childeren (females nest 2-3 times during the season, often in very close proximity to their last nest), on to its back? Normally the mother will never see her offspring; maybe, just maybe, this was a rare chance encounter.
Just a few hundred yards further down the beach ΦCab8 hatched again, another 5 safely to the sea.
On D beach (which is part of the military base) we found another female track; no sign of a camoflage, just three body pits; we dug the last, but nothing to be found.
A little further on we found another emergence - in all probability the same female making another attempt. This time she had gone a good 30 - 40m from the sea, way up onto the top of the dunes. As we studied the tracks 2 military jeeps zoomed towards us across the airfield. 6 soldiers jumped out, some armed with automatic rifles. They beckoned us over; we explained we had permission to walk the beach every day, but nonetheless we were treated to a ride down to the security office so they could check our details. Everything checked out, and they were kind enough to drop us back where they had picked us up. We found no nest; possibly an abandoned egg chamber - we found lots of roots and sticks at the bottom of the hole she had dug. All in all it was a long survey today; we left at 05:35 and got back to camp nearly 8 hours later, just before 1pm.
Later in the day O and I excavated ΦDbc1UM, unmarked nest I found. As we began to clear sand the military turned up again. Yet again we were trundled off to the security office, despite the fact that one of the soldiers had been in the patrol we met in the morning. This time we were there for less than a minute; I think the security officials recognised me from the morning.
We had to work quickly to complete the excavation before the sun sank into the sea. The eggs were quite tightly packed; we found quite a few dead hatchlings and about 10 "pipped" - the hatchlings had managed to break partially out of their egg before they died. We also found a few oddities; three elongated eggs (they are normally spherical, the size and shape of a table tennis ball - the shells are soft though, so that they don't break when they are laid), and two pairs of twins. The first pair contained one embryo in the early stage of development, the other much larger in the late stage. The second pair were both in the very early stage, about 1cm in length. All in all there were a good number of hatched eggs (55), of which 47 had made it out of the nest, so a reasonable success.
Saturday, August 23, 2003
CD Beach with Jodie (15.08.2003)
Lots of action on the beach today. The first two nests we checked had hatched; ΦBtC11, a nest that Owen and Philippa had found, nestled in amongst the rocks (8 tracks straight to the sea) and ΦCab8 (5 tracks to the sea). A few moments later, I felt a tingle of excitement as I spotted my first ever adult female tracks. They looked just like those I had seen in pictures; the regular, alternating flipper marks separated by the smoothed trail where the plastron (the hard underbody of the turtle) has dragged along the sand (the turtle cannot lift its body off the sand; millions of years of evolution have adapted what used to be legs into efficient swimming flippers). No sign of a camoflaged nest, but there were a couple of body pits, so we dug the last attempt in search of a nest. We found nothing so after mapping the emergence we continued down hazy C beach, smoke from the perpetual fires on the huge open rubbish dump drifting over the beach.
At ΦCno7 we found circling tracks near the nest and a hatchling on its back. We turned it over, but it was very slow; one of its flippers looked as though it had been folded and left with a crease in it. At the speed it was moving we estimated it was going to take almost an hour to reach the sea, so we decided to rebury it as the sun was well above the horizon. We named him Tim, in a fit of frivolity, after Dickens' Tiny Tim.
On sector Dbc we found another female track; just before ΦDbc1UM, the unmarked nest I found. On a hunch I decided to run over and check the nest; a solitary hatchling spiralled out from the nest marker. I followed it down towards the sea and found the hatchling on its back, waving its flippers rather feebly. The sun had been up for a while (digging on C beach had taken some time) and the hatchling seemed quite dehydrated, so I put a couple of drops of water onto the back of its neck. Slowly but surely it made its way down to the sea; hardly any waves today, so an easy launch, although the first couple of waves seemed to take the hatchling by surprise. For a moment we thought it had drowned, as it lay motionless in the wet sand. After a couple of beats it slowly lifted its head from the sticky sand and struggled towards the sea again, and then it was away, swept off by the next wave.
Back to the emergence; the tracks were more complex this time, crossing and recrossing themselves. At the top of the beach, they traversed a log submerged in the sand. Again we dug what we estimated was the last attempt, next to an old iron frying pan sticking out of the sand. Again we found nothing.
20 or 30m further on we found yet another emergence; no obvious nesting attempts this time so we mapped it and moved on. We found two more sets of tracks further down the beach, one with attempts, but still no nest.
It was very late by the time we reached the the end of the military section of beach. The other M.S. (morning survey) party had done the end of D beach for us, and we found Owen dozing by the barbed wire fence in the sun, having been for a swim while waiting for us.
Good News (14.08.2003)
No morning survey for me today, but great news from the returning MS team. Seven female emergences, spread over the two beaches. It has been days and days since the last sighting of female tracks; I was beginning to think we would find no more nests this year. Its quite possible we'll find one tomorrow, and I'm going to be on the CD beach team - can't wait!
The "Hat Party" was held tonight... some very silly hats were constructed for camp amusement; Julia had a nesting chicken on her head; Kathi something that bore a strong resemblance to (and probably was) a goat skull; Suzy a model sheep, and my own creation, an inverted funnel with a small toy bear sticking out of the top. Much Ouzo was drunk; it was also Kathi and Tina's last night. We played a number of silly games, inlcuding one lead by Kathi called "Tantarella Tomboli" (or something like that), which involved dancing round in an ever tightening circle until the whole group fell over in a cloud of dust and fits of laughter.
Red Beach with Ciaran (13.08.2003)
As usual no turtle activity to be seen on Red Beach. We destroyed rather a nice sand castle though - not something I would normally take pleasure in, being a sandcastle builder myself; unfortunately they provide a barrier to both hatchlings and females.
Wednesday, August 20, 2003
CD beach with Owen (12.08.2003)
The moon was almost full last night; as we arrived at the starting point for the survey in Kalamaki it was setting over the sea, its reflection casting a pathway over the calm mediterranian.
The unmarked nest I had found back on the 8th had produced one, possibly two more hatchlings prior to today, both of which had gone to the sea. When we arrived at the nest I was pleased to see one more track, heading for the sea. When we followed it down, it had become disorientated in the middle of the beach, looping a coupe of times before continuing towards to sea. After a minute or two of scanning the shoreline I spotted the hatchling; only a few metres left to go. I shaded it down to the sea, righting it once when it flipped it over, and for the first time I got to see it swim away in the calm water. They look too small to be able to survive, but when you watch one swimming it looks completely at ease with its environment.
We built up some shading around the adjacent ΦDab14 so that when it hatches, hopefully there will not be so many disorientation problems.
ΦDpq6 hatched again today; 6 tracks went straight to the sea. 3 had become disorientated, but all eventually went to the sea. One went around 100m sideways down the beach, parallel to the sea, before finally heading seawards.
On a non turtle related front - I found a great funnel today on the beach, perfect size for making a crazy bonnet for the camp hat party on thursday. We have to find ways of entertaining ourselves - Matala is quite a small town!
My First Day Off (11.08.2003)
We spent a night in a cave last night, in a valley behind the cliffs surrounding Red beach. Owen, Jodie (P.A. leader for Matala), Caroline (P.A. leader from Rethymno) and I spent a very pleasant evening around the camp fire, swapping turtle stories and drinking home made Raki (from the Raki man of Matala - sold with the reassurance that it contained "no chemicals", which was nice to know!).
Early in the morning we all went down to Red beach; the sea was almost calm. We dived in and floated like driftwood for an hour or so, the cool water soothing away our hangovers. We had the beach to ourselves; hard to imagine a more tranquil and relaxing spot. After the short hike back to Matala we had a late breakfast at a taverna overlooking the bay, washed down with a cold Mythos, then spent the afternoon dozing contentedly in the hammock.
Red Beach with Catherine (10.08.2003)
Not much to report from Red Beach today; only the usual plethora of ghost crab holes. Their tracks were visible all over the beach too. We got lost on the way there; our detour took us around the clifftops that envelope the beach. The view was stunning; surrounded at one point on three sides by the sparkling azure sea, the yellowish rocks bleached by the sun contrasting sharply as they fell away in sheer drops all around us. Up on the clifftop we passed a three sided stone walled shelter - looked like a stunning place to spend the night some time.
No Morning Survey Today... (09.08.2003)
... just maintenance work on Archelon's information kiosk, plus a shift working there, giving information to holiday makers and local people. I managed to spill blue gloss paint all over the pavement by the kiosk (the paint tin, blown over by the blasted wind popped open its lid), making the day a lot less productive than it should have been.
CD Beach with Julia (08.08.2003)
Put Owen's T-shirt on while blearily trying to get ready to leave this morning; its aroma eventually informed me of my mistake - he's been here since the start of the season and doesn't get much time to sleep, never mind do washing!
The sky was clear as usual as we started out, the wind still strong. The first thing we spotted was an amorous couple; Harley parked at the back of the beach, them in underwear by the shore in a clinch.
Possibly the first hatch of ΦCno7 today; the tracks were quite faint, just a couple of inches long in two separate sections by the nest. Julia is on CD again tomorrow so hopefully more will be on their way.
We got to beach sector Dab and I asked Julia to walk at the back of the beach with me to search for the unmarked nest we suspected was there after finding the hatchling yesterday. Within seconds we found tracks; the first went all the way to the back of the beach as had the one yesterday, looping round and round. When I found it it was moving quite slowly; I almost stepped on it. Julia took it onto the beach and we shaded it down to the sea. On the first three attempts it got washed back up by the surf; finally a receding wave pulled it down into its permanent home.
We quickly found two more tracks; one eventually went to the sea. I followed the other and found what looked like a dead hatchling on its back. I flipped it over and it instantly came to life; I took it onto the beach and shaded it too down to the sea.
By this time Julia had traced the tracks back and found a possible spot for the nest. I saw more tracks leading off down to the sea - we had found it! We needed to shade the nest from the light source at the back of the beach, so we built up a barrier around the nest using an old car bumper and driftwood. Hopefully tomorrow all will find the sea.
ΦDlm5 hatched again today; 2 more to the sea.
CD Beach with Kathi and Amy (07.08.2003)
Morning survey began at a ferocious pace today; Kathi, one of the other volunteers on CD beach with me today has been here since the start of the season (3 months) and it was a struggle to keep up with her.
I was walking at the back of the beach today, and just after we had checked ΦDab14, I spotted the unmistakable pattern of hatchling tracks. I called Amy and Kathi over; the presence of the tracks was peculiar since ΦDab14, the nearest nest, wasn't due to hatch until the 4th of September. Even if it was early, it didn't seem possible that it could have hatched yet. We went back to the nest, but there was no sign of any tracks there. We went bsck to where I had found the tracks and followed them to the back of the beach; the hatchling had become very disorientated - in the distance we could see a watch tower on the military base that backs the beach, possibly the source of light had caused the hatchling go the wrong way. The tracks looped round and round, covering a distance well in excess of 50m. We split up, following the tracks in opposite directions. Eventually Kathi and Amy found the hatchling, on its back. They turned it over, scooping it up with a handful of sand to avoid touching it, and we began the long process of shading it to the sea.
Now that the lights at the back of the beach had been extinguished (the sun had risen by this point), the hatchling had little difficulty finding its way. It was moving quite slowly, and my mind skipped back to the exhausted hatchling I had ended up reburying the previous day, after coming within a few metres of the sea. Again I willed it onwards, trying (and failing, in the main) to suppress my expectations. Every now and then it would pause to rest, raising itself up on its front flippers as if craning its neck to see and smell the ocean; its tiny mouth opening in a silent cry. Slowly inched closed and closer; as it travelled the last few feet a wave of emotion surged through me; I felt in awe of the amazing life force that these minature creatures are born with. To travel so far over what, for a marine turtle, is an alien environment, and still persevere, even after the ordeal that this one had been through, is nothing short of incredible. It was one of the most moving sights that I have experienced in many years.
We spent the next half an hour tracing the tracks back and forth, searching in vain for the unmarked nest that we assumed the hatchling had come from. In the end we had to give up, and hoped that the next day would bring more hatchlings and a better chance to locate it.
As we continued down the beach I felt immensely contented and happy; nothing would shake that feeling for the rest of the day.
Further down the beach, ΦDlm5 had hatched again; no disorientation this time; all 8 tracks went straight to the sea.
After we completed the survey, I swam then sat gazing out to sea as we waited for our lift back to camp, my mind full of optimistic thoughts for the future.
Monday, August 18, 2003
CD Beach with Ciaran and Nina (06.08.2003)
ΦDlm5 hatched again today; four tracks straight to the sea. Ciaran and I did our first excavation at ΦDvw3. Not a nice day for it; a strong, gusting wind was blowing, blasting us with sand from every direction, filling our hair, ears and eyes. The nest was close to the (illegal) new road at the back of the beach; because of this, the dry sand on top of the nest was unusually deep, causing it to collapse frustratingly into the nest several times as we excavated down, despite our best attempts to clear it back from the nest. The wet sand below had been compacted. In places it was like concrete. To make matters worse, there was a large rock embedded directly above the egg chamber, trapping several hatchlings. Ciaran and I struggled to free those that were still alive; every now and then we would see movement as we dug down, carefully removing successive layers of sand.
In total we freed 6 live hatchlings from the compacted sand. 2 were too weak to make it more than a few feet. 3 made it to the sea without much trouble. The last initially looked as though it hadn't a hope; it had been trapped directly under the rock, one of its front flippers folded and squashed up against the obstacle. Nonetheless, it seemed pretty keen and as soon as we put it down on the sand started out valiantly for the sea, so I began to follow behind, shading it from the sun. At one point it seemed to run out of steam, not moving for many minutes, so I dug a pit and started to rebury it; the hatchling would have none of it and struggled out of the sand and set off for the sea once more. Amazingly, it made it to within 3m of the sea, covering 15m at an agonizingly slow pace. I willed it to find some last reserve of energy with which to complete its journey.
It was just too much; there was nothing left in the tank. We reburied it again, hoping that it would recover enough to complete its journey the next night.
Next came the grisly job of opening the remaing eggs to see what they contained. 53 eggs had hatched successfully; the majority of the remainder contained no visble embryos - either they were unfertilised, or had not developed for some reason. A few contained dead embryos in various stages of development and decomposition.
Thursday, August 14, 2003
AB Beach with Nina (04.08.2003)
Saw another live hatchling today; this one made it! ΦAst5 had hatched again. The first thing we saw was the tracks, 19 of them this time. Up by the nest we found two dead hatclings, dried out by the fierce Cretan sun. Then, as I followed the tracks down to the sea, I saw movement. The last of the 19 was about 3m from the sea and heading determinedly for it! I called Nina over; she was holding a small black puppy that had been following us down the beach. She thrust the dog into my arms so that she could take a picture. The hatchling had a clear run and made short work of the remaining distance, disappearing into the surf.
Wednesday, August 13, 2003
AB Beach with Jodie (03.08.2003)
Saw my first hatchling tracks today. Halfway down B beach, ΦBkl4, nestled in amongst the sunbeds and backed by tavernas, had hatched again. We counted 5 tracks; one had escaped through the back of the nest shading and had become disorientated by the lights, then the tracks disappeared. The other four headed for the sea, then disappeared too. We noticed that series of marks could be seen from the end of the tracks down to the sea. It looked as though someone had pushed something flat into the sand repeatedly. There were several pieces of cardboard lying around; we decided that there was a good possibility that someone had shaded the hatchlings to the sea by placing the card between the hatchling and the lights at the back of the beach. Apparently a family holidaying nearby had been informed by Archelon volunteers on the best way to help, should they come across hatchlings.
Further down, on A beach, ΦAst5 had hatched for the first time; no lights at the back of the beach this time, so all eleven tracks went to the sea. Although I had seen hatchling tracks last year, this was the first time I had found some myself; its hard to describe the sense of satisfaction you get. Its easy to visualise the minature turtles, no more than 2 inches long, poking their heads out of the sand to sniff the fresh air for the first time in the quiet moonlight, then clambering out of the sand and making their way, inch by inch, down to the sea.
The survey complete, we drove down to pick up the other group who had been walking CD beach further up the coast. When we arrived they were about to start an excavation. 10 days after the first hatch, the nest is excavated to find out how many eggs hatched; those that didn't are opened and classified to allow scientists to study the effect of different types of nest sites on nest success. I volunteered to help as I had never seen an excavation before.
One of the first things we found as we dug down was a live hatchling. It was very weak; excavations are timed such that all healthy hatchlings should have left the nest; any remaining in the nest may well have developed with some abnormality that has prevented them from emerging normally. We moved it to a shallow hole we dug next to the nest; it was too weak to even climb up the shallow slope as we shaded it from the sun, so we reburied it. If it recovered sufficiently, there was a chance it would emerge the next night, triggered by the tempurature drop. Hatchlings are never taken to the sea, for several reasons; they must exercise their muscles before trying to swim, and they must orientate themselves, since sea turtles only ever nest at the beach where they started out life. Putting an exhausted hatchling in the sea could result in it simply drowning, and reduce its chances of ever finding its way back to breed.
Further down we found the eggs. We removed them all from the nest, before counting them and recording the details.
Tuesday, August 12, 2003
Red Beach with Owen (2nd August 2003)
My first morning survey. Left at 6:30am; bumped into Scotty, Matala's hippy mascot, shuffling out of a bar, blinking in the sunlight, asking for a light, which we provided. The walk to Red Beach is beautiful; up over the dry and dusty cliffs; descending towards the beach, the rays of the just rising sun fan out from the rocks above.
The survey itself was uneventful; the beach has less than one nest per year on average. There have been several female tracks seen this year ("emergences"), although no nests have been found. We saw plenty of ghost crab holes, one of the sea turtle's natural predators (they will attack the eggs and prey on the hatchlings). We even saw one; 3 or so inches tall with a small body and long, thin stilleto blade legs; its white colour giving it its name.
The survey done, Owen (my brother and monitoring leader for Archelon in Messara bay) went through basic beach training, using his hands and feet to simulate female tracks, a "body pit" (where the turtle clears the dry sand before deciding whether to nest), and a "camoflage" (the area of thrown sand created by the turtle to hide the nest itself). Finally he explained how to dig and probe for the nest to locate it. The early start was causing my concentration to wane by the time we finished and headed back up over the cliffs to Matala.
Coming back through town we passed a local fisherman selling freshly caught sardines from the back of his pickup, attended by a bunch of scrawny cats waiting for scraps.
Welcome! This is a journal of my time working for Archelon, the Sea Turtle Protection society. I'll be posting here whenever I get the chance; each post may contain a few days worth of notes, since I don't have time to get on the net every day.
