To Tag A Turtle
The numbers at the volunteer villa have swelled from five to eleven adding another Canadian, a Brit, a Scot, a Greek, a Swiss and a German to the ranks. On Friday morning Bree and Peter (the second Canadian) came across three different sets of tracks on Mounda beach. None appeared to be nests. From the tracks the turtles appeared to have just come up on the beach and promptly headed back to sea in what is referred to as a “false crawl.”
Manu called for a meeting that afternoon at the villa. We all gathered around two at the table under the the trellis. Manu explained that since we had the numbers and there was obvious turtle activity it would we wise to start night patrols of the beach as soon as possible. He wanted to know if there were any volunteers for shift tonight. Jean and I of across raised our hands as did Markus (German), Bree and Helen. Ueli rolled in a little late and said he would be in as well. As Bree and Helen had already had strenuous shifts that morning Jean, Markus, Ueli and I drew night patrol. The meeting broke up and Jean and I went up to our room to try to get a nap in.
Sleep, unfortunately, did not come easily though. We managed to get a few hours finally rousing around 7:00. The wind had kicked up creating white caps in the turbid sea below. Jean and I had dinner and set to work arranging our wardrobe for the night's work:
Dark trousers and long sleeved shirt
Fleece jacket
Wind breaker
We also put together our kit which included:
Headlamp with a red lens
Flexible measuring tape
Rigid measuring tape
Tags
Tagging Pliers (Device for attaching tags to a turtle's flippers)
Phone
Pencil and paper
Water
Snacks
Manu biked over about 9:30 and gave us a brief review of night patrol procedure. As the last glow of day faded Markus, Ueli, Jean and I started down the road to the beach.
Mounda beach is 2.8 kilometers long (just over two miles) and divided more or less equally into two sections called Kaminia on the west and Potomakia on the east. A group of two is assigned to each one to patrol for the entire night. Both groups start in the middle of Mounda beach at ten. Jean and I had drawn Kaminia for the first night. We dropped off our blankets and food and bid the other group good luck and set off along the shore.
Doing a night patrol the pair walk along the water's edge about fifteen feet apart. The footing is a bit tricky as we're not supposed to use torches (flashlights). The wind had calmed down and stars shined overhead. The moon was not due to rise for another five hours.
I moved slowly, studying the the sand intently for tracks. Jean trailed behind poring over each dune. We covered Kaminia in around half an hour with no sign. We found a comfortable place in the sand to rest until eleven when we started back off again.
A Loggerhead sea turtle typically takes 1 ½ to two hours to nest. Patrolling the beach every hour if there is any activity we're almost guaranteed to see it. Jean and I set off for our return trip right at eleven. Clouds had begun to roll across the sky. Waves lapped gently. About half way through our walk, I noticed a line in the sand extending from the sea to the back of the beach. It seemed to glisten in the star light. I held my hand up signaling for Jean to stop, dropped to my knees and crawled up to where the line touched the water. Studying the disturbance in the sand I noted smooth track made by the plastron (underside of shell) flanked by alternating scalloped pockets of sand evidence of the flippers. I delicately stretched over the tracks and crawled parallel with water's edge. Some 20' on I found another similar track heading back to the sea. The turtle was no longer on the beach. I flipped on my red head torch and flashed Jean the all clear sign. She got up and we followed the tracks to the where the vegetation encroached on the sand. There was no evidence of digging. Within the last hour a turtle had pulled itself up on the beach, found the location unsuitable for a nest and headed back out to sea. We walked back to water, marked the wet sand beside the tracks with an “X” and continued on the patrol.
Not three minutes later we came upon more tracks. We repeated the procedure, found an up and down track, investigated and found it to be yet another false crawl. We returned to the middle of Mounda half past eleven to find Markus and Ueli already there. We quickly related our discovery to them. They too had found a false crawl.
We curled up on the sunbeds for a short rest. My watch alarm broke through lapping of the waves at midnight. Jean and I gathered our jackets and backpack, bid adieu to the other group and departed along the shore. I hopped carefully over the previously discovered tracks. In the morning we would examine the tracks more carefully and take photographs.
A quarter of an hour later I spied another line in the sand shining in the star light. I dropped to a crouch and studied the the disturbance in the sand. There were the familiar shell and flipper marks. I stretched cautiously over the tracks and continued down the shore. There was no down track. My gaze swept up the beach. I squinted into the darkness but could see little against the vegetation.
Cautiously, I wriggled up the beach parallel to beach pulling myself along with my elbows. The sand had grown cool after nightfall. It coursed freely into the sleeves of my fleece. I moved in short, slow spurts pausing to strain my eyes and ears. When a turtle nests she first digs a body pit. There was no movement, no noise, no flinging of sand.
I discerned a dark, round shape in a depression in the sand up ahead. After the female creates a body pit she digs an egg chamber with her back flippers. I waited. Other than a gentle rocking the shape ahead was motionless. I crawled on breathlessly. Peering over the crest of the depression I made out a pair of flippers extended from beneath a mottled carapace. A white orb dropped gently from the the rear of turtle into a dark orifice dug out of the sand.
With the egg chamber completed, the female loggerhead enters what is referred to as an “egg-laying trance” where she is only dimly aware of what is occurring around her. This is the ideal phase for data collection. I fumbled with my red head lamp finally drawing it out of my pocket and used it to signal Jean to come up alongside.
The huge oblong shell heaved slowly as the turtle breathed. She was slightly bigger around than a man hole cover and probably weight somewhere around 120 pounds. Under the red light I could see she had a tiny tail. Another egg slipped out and tumbled down into the chamber. I unslung my messenger bag and pulled it open. Meanwhile, Jean had crawled up alongside. I handed her the notebook and pencil. With tremulous hands I grasped the tagging pliers. Of all our data we collect, tagging and recording tag information is the most important component because it allows us to track turtle activity geographically and nesting frequency.
I swung my red lamp down to the sand covered back flippers. Then I peered over the top of the dark green carapace at the front two. I reached in the bag and rummaged for the tags. Jean staid my arm.
“She already has a tag,” Jean whispered gesturing at the back left flipper.
I brushed sand away from the moist, scaly skin revealing a small metallic band. The tag read:
K 161
Katelios Group
Kefalonia, Greece
I breathed a sigh of relief. Then I used the bendable measuring tape to record the length and width of the carapace and the the rigid ruler ruler to record the straight measurements. Jean recorded as I read off the numbers. Then we took a look at the shell and flippers for any distinguishing marks or damage. Finding none we recorded time we first encountered the turtle, what nesting stage she was in and that eggs were present. Then we flipped off our lights and crawled off a few meters to watch.
We lay in the sand nearly an hour watching as K 161 gently rocked back and forth. Then we saw plumes of sand being kicked up for a quarter of an hour as she concealed the nest. Afterwards, heaving her great bulk around she made her slow descent to the water and finally disappeared within the black waves.
Jean and I got up energized. We placed a marker at the back of the nest and try to make note of the general location of the nest so we could let Manu know where to locate it in the morning.
The rest of the night was uneventful. We finally ran into the other crew around six in the morning. They had found nesting turtle as well. It was an auspicious start to the night watch.
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