|Dawn – five minutes after six in the morning|
Exhausted. Her scraped and bleeding limbs drifting uselessly in the waves Teresa lay on her back unable to move. Her mouth and nose covered by the shallow water she struggled to breathe. She had lain in this painful position for hours.
|Turtle hole at top right of photo – she flipped over here|
A noise! She heard a noise that sounded like two voices with a background of sharp and excited yips. Trembling with fear Teresa again futilely twitched her limbs.
|Different tortuga – Gaspar helping her dig a deeper hole|
With a flurry of splashing flippers Teresa the Tortuga struggled to turn around – paddling, pushing, soaking both Amy and I with a slurry of seawater and sand. We were euphoric; laughing and shouting happily when the turtle managed to speed off into the deeper water, and away from her night of torment and terror. I had mistakenly put my camera too far out of reach, and by the time I grabbed it and pointed at the fleeing tortuga she had gone. Damn! The three dogs, Amy’s two dogs Bowser and Bosch, and Sparky were very quiet. They stared at the departing creature unable to comprehend how it would swim out that far, that fast.
|Teresa the Tortuga – swimming fast to freedom|
Tortuga flipping is not my normal routine at five minutes before dawn. Sparky and I usually do his first walk of the day at half-past six along the sidewalk to the gas station and back, fifteen or twenty minutes tops and then it’s time for morning coffee.
This morning I woke up at half-past five and decided to head out early. Because it is turtle nesting season I tucked a small camera into my pocket, hoping maybe, just maybe I would get lucky with photos of a mama turtle laying eggs.
|Tortuga dug this up – looking for the perfect spot|
The turtles are normally gone well before dawn, however, occasionally a female will still be laying eggs at sunrise having spent too long searching for a perfect nesting site during the night.
|A bucket full of baby turtles about to be released|
Before the creation of the turtle conservation program, and the Isla Mujeres turtle farm, the chances of a turtle egg hatching, and the new babies surviving were miniscule. Dogs, birds, and humans all preyed on the eggs. If the eggs did hatch then large fish and more sea birds would gobble up the delicious hatchlings as they dashed for the ocean. Every year the Isla Mujeres turtle farm gathers the eggs, then raises and releases up to ninety thousand baby turtles. It’s a wondrous sight.
|Wet and sandy Turtle Flipper|
On this morning Sparky and I did our usual amble along to the gas station, and then I decided to walk back home along the beach. About half-way home I noticed our neighbour Amy was out with their new puppy, Bosch, giving him a chance to have a morning pee. Bosch was excitedly barking at something in the ocean so Sparky and I headed over to see what the excitement was all about.
This is not the first time that one of our neighbours has righted an up-side-down tortuga.
We can only hope that Teresa the Tortuga survives to return, again and again, to this beach.
|Sea Turtles mating|
But, she will likely have an aversion to that particular stretch of sand where she back-flipped off a rocky ledge onto the sand below.