turtle patrol: (night) life on the beach

Officially, turtle patrol shift at Campamento Tortuguero Platanitos (CTP) would run from roughly 9 a.m. – 2 a.m. But the giggle-like-a-schoolgirl excitement starts nightly at 7 p.m. when we would release hatchings (or barely day old baby turtles). Hermilo, the onsite biologist, would go to the incubation casita and put out all of the baby turtles that had hatched that morning. Can you imagine a world in which you were set free to fend for yourself less than 24 hours after birth? These days, some parents are lucky to get their offspring out of the house by their 35th birthday.

As the sun set on Playa Las Tortugas, Hermilo would drag a stick across the sand to make a line. On some nights, it was just me, Hermilo and Gerardo, the CTP volunteer coordinator. Other nights, nearly two dozen guests, homeowners or rental visitors of next door residential property would crowd to release their very own handful of hatchlings. One night, I named several of the hatchings in honor of Chelsea, Sabrina, Robin Jean International Sex Symbol, Teri, and Peter, and silently, willed them to swim and survive.

When the sun would finally dip below the Pacific, in a lazy, mesmerizing way flashing vivid hues of pink, purple and peach, we’d head back to camp. Gerardo would pop out to check the tides and when the time was right, we’d cover every inch of our bodies possible in bug-barrier attire and layer on eco-friendly repellant. I’m not generally a fan of unnatural products (read: chemical), but I call B.S. on the efficacy of eco-friendly bug spray (and I have countless insect bites, or picaduras, to prove it.).

Armed with a rain coat, water bottle, and survival knife, Gerardo and I would head out to the beach to patrol a designated stretch, usually spanning 2km (or about 1.3 miles), to search for Olive Ridley turtles. Campamento Tortuguera Platanitos patrols a 10-mile stretch (16 km) of beach, seven nights a week, both on-foot and via ATV. And night after night, several members of nearby Otates community show up to help patrol. It is not easy work, especially during summer’s rainy season, when intense thunder and lightning storms reign supreme on a seemingly nightly basis.

Walking at steady pace, but not so fast as to tire quickly, we’d walk from one end of our patrol “zone” to the other, scanning the sand for turtles emerging from the ocean or for tracks. If we didn’t find anything, we’d wait approximately 20-30 minutes, then circle back in the opposite direction. We’d repeat this process as many times as the shift would allow, often walking close to 10 miles per night. At first, I needed a flashlight, but your eyes adjust rapidly to the night sky and tracks can be spotting from several paces away. If we found a turtle making her way from the sea, we’d step back and let her find a place to nest in peace.

Once she located the perfect place to lay her eggs, she’d dig a nest, more than a foot deep, cupping her rear flippers like hands, scooping out piles of sand. She’d then lay 80-150 eggs. During this time, I’d crouch on down on my knees, reaching my hand under the backside of the turtle pulling out eggs, two or three at a time. They resembled ping pong balls, but slimier and squishier in texture. I’d count the eggs as Gerardo would measure the turtle’s length and width and note any remarkable features. A form was filled out for each and every nest documenting details of the find.

If we found tracks, we’d follow them. Sometimes we’d find a turtle nesting; other times we’d have to suss out where the turtle had nested to find the eggs. In any case, we always tried to find the nest before the poachers did; we weren’t always successful. We’d mark the tracks with criss-cross lines (or whatever mark we were using that night). Surprisingly, the round-trip timeline for an Olive Ridley turtle to emerge from the sea, build a nest, and lay eggs is roughly 30-45 minutes. These incredible creatures repeat this journey three times during each nesting season.

Poachers, or people who illegally collect turtle eggs despite conservation and wildlife management laws, are a big problem around Playa Las Tortugas and we encountered them on an almost nightly basis. They mostly kept to themselves, probably because what they are doing is, umm, illegal. Sometimes, they’d create fake turtle tracks or try to gauge our distance by sending false flashlight signals (we had our own flashing systems, which indicated various things, including “We need back up”). Some wielded machetes. Some hid in the bushes, thinking they had outsmarted us (they didn’t). Others reeked of alcohol. One of the main problems with the poachers is that they are generally un-policed. Sure, there are police in the Mexican state of Nayarit, but they did not have a presence once on Playa Las Tortugas during the nights I patrolled. From what I understand, they have bigger gang-related issues to deal with the state’s capital of Tepic.

Poachers can sell a turtle egg for 3 pesos (or about .25 cents USD), so finding a nest with 80-150 eggs could net someone $20USD or more. Multiply that by several nests over the course of a night and you’ve got yourself a potentially a lucrative, albeit illegal business. To put it in perspective, there were nights when CTP found 40+ nests, while the poachers staked claim to as many as ten. That is why several dedicated souls pace methodically up and down the beach at all hours of the night, in all kinds of weather, getting bit by the peskiest of mosquitoes and no-see-ums. These are the people who make a difference in the Olive Ridley population of Playa Las Tortugas.

Night after night, as we beat poachers to the nests (more times than not), I felt like I was playing some small part in making a difference (superhero cape not included). I love that I was to jump right in to the CTP volunteer program and help out with absolutely no sea turtle conservation knowledge. If there is any question about how great this program is, witness the release of 1200 hatchings into the ocean, all while silently rooting them on, “Swim, swim, swim!” It’s a pretty fantastic feeling.

If you go:

It’s a bit of a transportation adventure to get to Campomentos Tortuguero Platanitos. I flew into Puerto Vallarta International Airport. From there, I took a taxi to Central Bus Station (about a 5 minute drive, 60 pesos – or about $5USD). At the bus terminal, I went to the Pacifico Bus Line counter and bought a ticket to Las Varas (about a two hour drive, 105 pesos – or about $10USD). Busses leave every 20-30 minutes. There, I’d coordinated a pick up from the CTP people (a 45 minute drive to camp); otherwise, expect to pay about $30USD to take a taxi to camp.

Need to know:

Campomentos Tortuguero Platanitos does not recycle, which is a big red flag considering the eco-conscious nature of the program. Recycling programs are in place in nearby Las Varas, so it doesn’t seem impossible.

A woman’s dormitory is currently under construction. For the time being, housing is co-ed in a poorly ventilated sleeping/living space which doubles as the kitchen. Much of the time, this room is hotter than a Bikram Yoga Studio.

CTP advertises internet availability, but from camp, it’s a very weak signal with spotty accessibility.

CTP is a dry camp, meaning no alcohol is allowed on the premises. This “rule” was not made known to me until I arrived at Turtle Camp. Mexico + intense heat + beach + sunsets + adult who can imbibe responsibly + no occasional cold cerveza = no bueno in my book.

If you bring fruit or vegetables to camp, expect a very short shelf life. The heat wrecks havoc causing produce to start rotting almost immediately.

Do not pack purified water. It is provided for you.

The heat and humidity are intense; I strongly recommend bringing Gatorade and some salty snacks (or “Survival Chips” as my significant other likes to call them). When I got to camp, I was drinking close to two gallons of water a day and peed maybe once a day for the first five days. I was in much better shape once I incorporated electrolytes and increased salt into my diet.

Only eco-friendly bug repellant is allowed (in the best interest of the hatchings and eggs). Expect to get bitten. A lot. The mosquitos and no-see-ums are merciless.

Ocean currents at Playa Las Tortugas are extremely strong and volunteers are advised not to swim solo. The ocean was too rough for me to swim during my 10-day stay at CTP. There is an estuary at the end of the beach where people can and do swim, but crocodiles have been spotted here during turtle patrol.

volunteer travel - do you get what you pay for?

After volunteering in Peru with Karikuy, I started writing a post about how you get what you pay for when it comes to volunteer experiences. Project #3 of The Global Citizen Project with Campamento Tortugeuro Platanitos in Nayarit, Mexico quickly changed my mind.

The more I process my volunteer experience with Karikuy, the less inclined I am to recommend it. I love what founder, Julio Tello is doing to promote responsible tourism within Peru and give back to its impoverished communities, but his volunteer program did not live up to expectations.

My bed at Karikuy

The price seemed right – free accommodations in exchange for 8 hours of volunteer work per day, Monday through Friday. Accommodations are touted as a “Bed and Breakfast,” a term I’d use loosely. Very loosely. Add one cat and a cute, but untrained puppy and Karikuy “B&B” felt a bit like shacking up in a litter box. When American Airlines lost my luggage (they found it the next day), my biggest concern was not having flip flops because there was no way my feet were going to make contact with the bathroom floor. It was nasty, only made nastier by piles of puppy poo. At one point, I sat down on the toilet to pee, and Pisco, the shih tzu puppy sidled up next to me on the floor and squatted. I love puppies as much as the next gal, but that crosses all lines of cuteness. The dorm-style bedroom was the best thing going for the house – a bunk bed, a twin bed and few cabinets for storage. I knew that Lima in July (the dead of winter in Peru) would be cold, but had I known how cold an unheated house would be, I would’ve packed a sleeping bag. Sheets, pillow and a wool blanket were provided, but I still slept in Smart Wool head-to-toe and shivered. (That’s no fault of Karikuy – homes in Peru aren’t heated.)

Puppy poo on the bathroom floor

Volunteers are charged $50 a week for Monday through Saturday meals. The food was simple, sometimes tasty; more often than not, monotonous. Breakfast was typically a roll with fresh cheese and avocado and tea. Lunch and dinner involved a broth based noodle soup with a smattering of vegetables and a mystery chicken part, followed by a mountain of rice, more chicken (sometimes beef), and usually a boiled potato. A gal can only handle so much chicken, rice and potatoes before crying Uncle. Given the option (and if the “B&B” kitchen were functioning and not just a catch-all for trash and recycling), I would’ve been happy to prepare some of my own meals or at least have the option to eat some meals from the abundance of nearby street food vendors. We ended up eating out a few times during the week instead of at the house, which I was more than happy to do, but should be noted, was on the volunteers’ dime and not part of the $50 per week budget. Knowing how well one can eat for cheap in Peru and far a sole stretches, $50 for food costs seems a bit steep. But, can you really complain when housing is free? Still, the soup, rice dish, repeat menu got old pretty quickly.

Pisco, the cute, but very untrained puppy

If you go with Julio on out-of-the-city excursions or take him up on deeply discounted Karikuy tours (like hiking the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu), you do have the opportunity to explore and learn more about Peru. However, such excursions increase the bottom line cost of volunteering and cross into vacation territory. It seems as though these experiences are strongly encouraged, in an effort to create fodder for the Karikuy blog. Personally, if I’m going to explore Peru, I’d prefer to fly solo or in the company of friends, call it what it is (a vacation) and post about it on my own blog. It’s not like it’s all that difficult to explore Peru on the cheap. I did learn quite a bit what day-to-day life is like in a lower income neighborhood in Lima and was able to blog about that for both myself and Karikuy. I also completed a fair bit of research on Peru, its cultural, recent news and responsible tourism, but was it worth the time and price of admission? I’m not so sure.

Work space at Karikuy

A little bit of cleanliness and a whole lot of direction and the Karikuy volunteer program could be a success. As it is now, I don’t think Julio has a clear vision of what he wants to accomplish, and if he does, he doesn’t know how to articulate it and delegate volunteer tasks. I chalked the whole experience up to “You get what you pay for” and nervously awaited my next project, another low budget project.

Campamento Tortuguero Platanitos

Project #3 of The Global Citizen Project at Campamento Tortuguero Platanitos cost $10 a day for housing (with a 10-day minimum). Round-trip airfare from Seattle to Puerto Vallarta ran about $400; bus fare from Puerto Vallarta to Las Varas another $10. Volunteers are also responsible for buying their own food and preparing their own meals. I spent $13 when I arrived in Las Varas, the closest town to Turtle Camp reachable via bus. Thirteen dollars got me rice, cooking oil, vegetables, some spices, cereal, milk, cheese, Fanta and some eggs. I brought peanut butter, jelly and English Muffins along. I dropped another $20 on Day 5 of the project on more edible essentials, including a whole grilled chicken with rice, salad and homemade salsa (about $4.50). Accommodations are rustic – volunteers sleep in one big room, and the guys (Gerardo, the volunteer coordinator, and Hermilo, the biologist) kindly hung a shower curtain to give female volunteers some privacy. The bathroom and shower are in an outhouse a few steps away. We had an ample sized kitchen and a big table to eat at or do work. It’s no Four Seasons Resort, but my bunk bed was actually semi-comfy, the place was swept multiple times daily (and kept relatively sand free) and the kitchen area well-maintained. The best part? I could roll out of bed and dip my toes in the ocean in exactly 73 steps.

Me with an Olive Ridley turtle hatchling

As for the program, it was pretty amazing. My job was to patrol a designated stretch of beach from 9 p.m. to 2 a.m. nightly. As a gal, there was always a male presence with me for safety’s sake. We’d sleep late then perform whatever cleaning/maintenance duties are necessary. One afternoon, we cleaned out all the turtle egg collecting bags. In the ocean. That doesn’t suck. Another day, we helped expand the turtle egg incubation/hatchery in the beating mid-day sun. That did suck. Roving the beach in pitch blackness, within steps of the sea, searching for turtle tracks has a meditative quality. I like lots of quiet time for introspection (and get it thanks to my work-at-home, freelancer lifestyle). Plus, I learned a lot about turtles and conservation. I saw countless Olive Ridley turtles emerge from the ocean, make their way up the beach, dig a nest, then lay anywhere from 80 to 150 eggs. The bugs were a bit of a nuisance (okay, they’re a beastly pain in the ass and wherever else they bite you), especially since DEET is not allowed anywhere near the turtle eggs or hatchlings. I managed to hang tough with my eco-friendly bug repellant, although it didn’t really do a damn thing much to deter the mosquitoes (the hundreds of bites all over my body are evidence).

Turtle Camp was my fave project so far – and it’s not prohibitively expensive. It’s a bit of an adventure to get to Campamento Tortuguera Platanitos, but its remoteness is what adds to its beauty and the experience. I volunteered for 10 days – probably three days too long (the heat and bugs became intolerable), but felt like I was able to jump right in and help out with a limited amount of knowledge and absolutely no sea turtle conservation skills. Gerardo and Hermilo, my Turtle Masters were incredible resources for learning and took my safety seriously (much appreciated). The world of sea turtle conservation is lucky to have two such passionate, dedicated and savvy people on its team. And I am grateful that I got to work alongside these men (and a rotating line-up of volunteers) for 10 nights and days. Truly an awesome experience.

august volunteer project preview: platanitos turtle camp playa las tortugas in nayarit, mexico

Where: The Platanitos Sea Turtle Camp at Playa Las Tortugas is located on the Pacific coast approximately 70 miles north of Puerto Vallarta in the State of Nayarit, Mexico. The Camp is regulated and directed by Mexico’s National Commission of Protected Areas (CONANP), part of the Secretariat of the Environment and Natural Resources. It lies between the beach and over 1100 acres of pristine salt-water tidal estuary on the north end of 11 miles of beach branded as “Costa Tortuga.”

What: Four protected species of sea turtles nest and lay eggs on Riviera Nayarit beaches: hawksbill turtles, Olive Ridley, leatherback and green turtles. Olive Ridley turtles are indigenous to Nayarit; its nesting season is from June to November. Selva Negra, a non-profit organization dedicated to the preservation of the environment, is helping to fund operation the Platanitos Sea Turtle Camp along with the developer and homeowners of Playa Las Tortugas. Selva Negra was founded and is operated by the musical group Mana.

At Playa Las Tortugas, my job is to help preserve the endangered sea turtles that come to nest at Costa Tortuga every year. My primary volunteer duties will be carried out at night (perfectly suited to my insomniac tendencies) when the sea turtles leave the ocean to lay their eggs and include patrolling the beach, collecting turtle eggs, and releasing hatchlings to the sea.

Why: Growing up on the east coast, my family spent summers on Fripp Island, South Carolina and loggerhead turtles would regularly nest in the dunes right out front. Light pollution wasn’t an issue back then, but ghost crabs were, and I recall as a small child, locals helping the hatchlings make their way to the ocean safely at dusk. I was able to relive that experience last December while on assignment in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico at CasaMagna Marriott Puerto Vallarta Resort and it was pretty awesome to play some small part in the (fingers crossed) survival of these beautiful creatures.