Tortugas

I arrived in Rio Oro the morning of Tuesday October 7th by way of colectivo, which I can’t really do justice in English – imagine a large truck with a canvas-covered open back where passengers sit on two benches, one on either side. The colectivo left Puerto Himenez at 6:30am and set off bouncing into the jungle of Costa Rica’s remote Osa Peninsula. The ride took two hours. Vines and banana leaves flung water into the truck back when they hit the canvassed roof, and people held on tight when the truck dipped sharply before crossing a river. At my stop, the driver came behind and lowered the gate. A sign said Escuela Rio Oro. I walked 500 meters toward the sea, and in a building next to the school house was welcomed as an Osa Sea Turtle Conservation Program Volunteer.

I’m scheduled to work a week. The Osa Program’s current aim is to collect data on the sea turtle species that nest on the peninsula, specifically those on the beach near the mouth of Rio Oro.

I must first describe the place. It’s unbelievable. Paradise in its rawest sense. Our base is 100 meters from the point where Rio Oro (Gold River) meets the Pacific Ocean. From our beach, you can see the coastline of Costa Rica’s Corovado National Park – a place National Geographic hails as one of the most biodiversly rich areas in the world. Scarlet macaws fly overhead and squawk all hours of the day, crocodiles live in the lagoons just off the beach where four different species of sea turtles nest at night and wild horses run during the day. It’s like living in a fantasy island safari. Yesterday, I watched an otter as large as the crocodile it was fishing beside play in the river. I’m in awe.

The work is just as awe inspiring. Tuesday afternoon, Greg, a research assistant from Rochester, took me to the beach and showed me how to properly measure a turtle – we made on out of sand – dig and find a nest, and identify the different turtle tracks.

I went on patrol with him and Ivy Wednesday night. We started at 10pm and finished at 2am – crossed Rio Oro and patrolled the three kilometers to the hatchery and back. I’ve seen turtles! We came across two nesting Green Sea Turtles and one Olive Ridley. They’re huge – larger than I imagine – and much more difficult to measure when they’re alive, powerful, and moving. It took all Greg had to keep a Green from returning to the sea so that Ivy could first tag it. The Olive Ridley nest needed relocating – it was too close to the sea – so Greg and Ivy let me dig down and scoop out the 114 leathery, golf ball like eggs and bury them again beyond the vegetation line.

The next day, had afternoon hatchery shift with Adrianna. Three nests had hatched the night before so we had exhumations to do. While scooping out egg shells I felt something move. Three hatchlings had been left behind. You can take them outside and see that they make it to the sea, Adrianna said, watch out for crabs and birds. I set them on the sand and watched them struggle to the water. The cutest things I have ever seen. They whipped the sand out of their eyes with their front flippers and took off. When they reached the water they swam for all they’re worth and disappeared.

My last shift was Friday night hatchery – midnight to 6am. Walked with Devina under a sky that held more stars than I thought possible. Two nests had hatched so we weighed and measured ten from each then set the little guys free – they all made it, there aren’t as many predators at night. Finished work round 3am, then lied out on the beach and watched the lights of a cruise ship slowly make their way toward the Panama Canal – only 50 miles from here by sea. Woke at first light, 5am, and walked back watching the sunrise reflect in the lagoon.