The Miracle of Life...Against All Odds

The miracle of life…against all odds

By Nathalie Kyrou

It was almost dark when we arrived in the bay. The sky was a deep rose colour, the air thick with humidity. We followed the dusty path along the beach towards the east corner, free of sunbeds and human presence. Ahead of me I could see people pitching a tent among the acacia trees, while two ladies sat next to each other in the distance. As I approached them, the turtle nest cage came into view, signifying where the eggs had been laid under the sand.

I was introduced to an older American woman, and another younger woman, from England, both of whom had been visiting the beach throughout week, waiting for the turtles to be born. Jim, the Turtle Man, as he was known to the locals, had not yet appeared. My British friend and I set up our mats around the nest cage, and got settled. As darkness engulfed us, our eyes gradually became accustomed to the night. The only light near us was the dim red torch set up to safely illuminate the surface of the sand under the cage, so that we could see any sign of turtle activity.

The waiting game began. Although the turtles might emerge from the sand at any time after dusk, the previous night they had started to climb out around midnight. The moonlight would normally show them the way to the sea. Unfortunately, that night the moon was not due to rise before the early hours of the morning, so it would be up to us instead to light the way and guide any newborn turtles into the warm waters of the bay.

During our turtle watch, others began to drop by, locals who knew that the hatching was imminent, some of whom had already been there the previous night when 56 turtles had emerged from the nest, much to everyone’s delight. Some people stayed, others passed by, chatted for a bit, and left. As the hours blended into each other, we sunk into the sand and into deep relaxation, disconnected from the world, yet totally connected to the wonders of nature.

Finally, The Turtle Man appeared. I had heard a lot about him, and was curious what this Irish turtle protector was like. Guessing him to be in his late sixties, or early seventies, with white hair and a jolly bounce, Jim appeared out of the darkness, with a couple of beach chairs, a cool box and a bottle of rum. His presence filled the beach instantly; with his smooth Irish drawl, hearty laugh and witty jokes, he was an unforgettable character. Soon it was a party: gathered around the nest cage, as if it were a bonfire, was Jim, with his flowing banter, his niece’s cheerful Irish husband, an Italian man (I think) who I didn’t get the chance to speak to, the charismatic American lady with her fun facts and stories, the English girl with her beautiful contagious laugh, my British friend with his impressive knowledge and positive energy, and I, a grateful, welcomed newcomer. I thought to myself, what can be better than the simple pleasures of life: a few shared secrets and stories from a few strangers? A Cypriot family who were camping nearby with their children joined us later too: what an eclectic medley of people we all were, brought together by our shared love for wildlife and turtles!

The thing about sitting on a beach at night, away from all the lights and commotion of the taverns, bars and cafes nearby, is that you can truly relax. With nothing but the twinkling sky above, there is absolutely nothing to do but sit or lie down and breathe and gaze up at the stars. Some might dare to call this boring, but that night, the sky was tremendous. There are very few times in my life that I have seen such a panoramic display of bright stars and even brighter planets. My friend used an app that helped us locate Jupiter and Venus, and we also spotted a few satellites moving across the dark velvety expanse, as planes from a nearby airport zoomed around not far above us, shining strong beams of light across the dark sky. They were a strange sight, reminding me of UFOs from sci-fi films, with flashing green and red lights and long, thick rays of light shooting out of them (which were so clearly visible because of all the dust in the air). The more we stared up at the moonless sky, the more layers of cosmic activity we could see… and I was even blessed to spot a couple of shooting stars!

Despite the attraction of the universe, I couldn’t help but think that it takes a lot of patience to be a wildlife lover, or rather rescuer. I suddenly had great respect for all the Turtle Men (and women) in the world, among, many other environmentalists, who spend weeks, if not years, patiently taking care of our natural world. To wait for a turtle’s nest to hatch, not knowing what will happen next, or if anything will happen at all, is a little frustrating, but at the same time exciting. Maybe there were no more eggs - there was no way of telling at this point - or perhaps the tiny turtles preferred to wait until the midnight hour to crawl out. I realised I was feeling a little anxious, so I took a deep breath and lay down for a while. I tried to flick away the sand off my mat, but ended up getting grains of sand everywhere - even in my ears! Would I get used it it all - the sand, the humidity, the darkness, the waiting? Deep down, I had a feeling it would be worth it.

As I let the night envelope me in its stillness, and my own awareness root me to the ground, I found my mind emptying fast. The faint chatter of our company receded into the background, and all I could feel was the heavy swell of my chest as I tried to breathe in the humid air. But, as time ticked away, I started to lose a little hope. Could this be it? No more turtles this year? Last year, I was told that there had been 15 different nests along this very beach, whereas this year, sadly, there was only this one, and no-one had any clue how many eggs were in it. It could be anywhere between 50 -100, though the average is around 80. The American lady, who had been coming here for years, tending to the turtles under Jim’s watchful eye, told me how things were getting worse on the island, when it comes to protecting this precious endangered species: the Loggerhead turtle.

Sunbeds multiply as people keep spreading themselves (and garbage) carelessly onto beaches, even ones which should be protected to conserve wildlife. In an ironic twist, it had recently been reported that locals are protesting on Lara Bay, the island’s most famous and prolific turtle beach. They are protesting to be ALLOWED to add sunbeds to a beach which for years has been protected because of the turtles! While the world fights a somewhat futile effort to save endangered species and protect the environment, locals here are fighting for the right to add sunbeds to what may be one of the last wild beaches on the island free of those plastic monstrosities! It makes me fume.

Here I was, surrounded by an enthusiastic and dedicated group of foreigners, putting in so much time and effort to save and protect our island’s Loggerhead, while other selfish islanders, driven by tourism and greed, try to destroy this beautiful animal. It makes no sense. I was disgusted when I had recently viewed online a locally shot video of a beautiful turtle, dead from swallowing a plastic bag. On another occasion, I had seen a turtle dead in real life, entangled in a fisherman’s net. The contradictory care and love of some people, against the ignorance and destruction of others, leaves me both hopeful and sad, but mostly confused…and yet determined. I must do whatever it takes to help preserve these incredibly majestic creatures, and educate my peers and children island-wide, as to how lucky we are to have such precious animals on our shores, and how important it is to protect them!

As the midnight hour approached, I began to get worried. How much longer could I wait before having to drive all the way home, without having seen the birth of any turtles? What if I left and then the turtles emerged? How long should I wait? Unwilling to lose hope completely, I decided to send the little creatures a telepathic message - I turned and looked at the nest cage and whispered aloud with all my might: “Come on little ones, come up now, come on!” I sent them all my energy and love. Then Jim got up and walked over to the cage, and removed it. “I think I may have to ruffle the sand a little,” he said, “to help them out.” He used his hand to twirl the sand in the centre of the cage area, forming a kind of funnel shape. “No sign of anything,” he continued, but then dug a little deeper. “They may need a little hand to push their way through…”

Suddenly, a miracle! A tiny flutter of a movement in the sand. It’s a sign of life! A turtle head appeared, and took its first proper breath of Cypriot air! I ran to the spot and peered down into the red lit hole…what an unforgettable sight! The tiny grayish green body was slowly trying to waddle its way out of the sand. Jim picked it up gently (but with the ease of a man who has done this countless times before) and handed it to one of the others in the darkness. Then he expertly dipped his fingers a little deeper into the sand and another head popped up, then another! I couldn’t contain my excitement! Oh my goodness, before my very eyes, life was emerging from grains of sand. What a thrilling sight!

Jim said I could touch one and pick it up, so I did. It was the loveliest feeling ever. The turtle’s shell was not too hard, nor too soft - to worry about harming it. The reptile fit neatly in the palm of my hand and moved like a newborn animal, full of new life, but not strong enough to escape. I gazed adoringly at the the tiny turtle which I held preciously in my hand, its paws soft enough that they did not prick my skin. I caressed it and placed it in one of the buckets provided, which was filled with sand. We would eventually place all the turtles who emerged from the nest in the buckets for a few minutes to rest, also so that they would not wander off and get lost or trampled on, until we were ready to release them.

  

The family who were camping nearby were summoned. We were now all there, sitting on the sand, around the nest, helping to collect the turtles, as they hatched. The children were in awe, as was I, this being my first turtle birthing ever! We touched them tenderly, and with curiosity, we took pictures and videos of them scuttling around in the buckets. We simply couldn’t get enough! Nothing more fascinating than the miracle of life against all odds. In fact, I was informed that only one in a thousand Loggerhead turtles who are born, actually survive. Now those are not great odds! It made me sad to think that maybe none of these energetic bundles of joy may even grow to maturity. Whereas these creatures can live for up to 50 years, or even more, most of them do not even get to reach half that age, due to predators and pollution. But at least we are giving them a fighting chance, by protecting the nest and helping them into the water.

Normally, the turtles would find their own way down to the sea, but sadly the beach had been eroded by rain and the waves had washed away most of the sand. So, what the turtle protectors did was tocreate a furrow along the sand leading from the nest location down to the point on the beach where the stones started. The turtles would be lifted from the buckets and placed at the top of the furrow, right below the nest site, and encouraged to begin their long journey into the sea. However, without the moonlight to guide them, they needed a little help.

That night, we shone a dim red torch along the way, to guide them towards the shore. We released bunches of turtles, at most 5-6 at a time (so we could keep count), and they began crawling along the sand, down the trench. If any of them got disorientated or side-tracked along the way, it was our cue to turn them around or place them back in the middle of the furrow so they could continue to follow each other towards the shore. When they reached the rocks, it was our duty to carry them to the water, because if left on their own, the trip from the rocks to the water might take forever, and the little creatures may even get lost or hurt. I watched as each person picked up a couple of the turtles and carried them down to the beach. I cradled a turtle in each hand and joined the rest as we all got into the water up to our knees. Then, in the dark, we released the bunch of turtles in one go. As their little bodies left the protection of our hands, and entered the Mediterranean Sea, they instinctively started paddling away, probably never to be seen again!

That night, we all had a surprise. Jim had been expecting possibly another 30 turtles to hatch, maybe less, maybe a little more, but to everyone’s amazement, over 50 more turtles emerged, making it almost 120 in total - all from one nest! Some of them - the ones buried deep - needed aid to get out of the sand. Because of the pressure, some of the eggs were a bit crushed, so the American dug her arm elbow deep into the sand and carefully scooped out the delicate eggs. Small, soft ping pong ball shaped shells…some with unborn turtles inside breaking out at that very moment! The eggs were laid out on the sand if they were remnants, or placed inside the buckets for the turtles to be born naturally on their own. Once they discarded their shells, the cracked eggs were then brought back to the rest in a pile nearby, to be later counted by the Turtle Man- this being the only sure way to actually know how many had been laid and hatched this year. Sadly, there were a few turtles that didn’t make it. We found one squashed - it probably didn’t have enough power to move, under all the weight of all the other eggs, rocks and sand. Some were dead inside their eggs, but the majority were alive and kicking, and at the end of the night, we counted in total over 100 newborn Loggerhead turtles, alive and kicking!

Releasing them into the sea was a bittersweet moment for me. I was so happy to see the newborns safely swept away by the calm water, ready to begin their hopefully long underwater existence! But I was sad that this night was coming to a close, and that I would not see those turtles again. I was a also little fearful for them, out in the big sea, but I sent them a little prayer and a lot of love. 

The shells were buried back in their nest by Jim. I wasn’t sure if this was just a way to respect nature, or a way to help guide the turtles back to the same spot when they were ready, decades later, to lay their own eggs (because apparently, no matter how far they may roam, they instinctively return to the beach where they were born to lay their eggs!). In fact, turtles such as the Loggerhead, are one of the few underwater creatures who live in the sea but lay their eggs on land, but interestingly, they are classified as reptiles, as they cannot live on both land and water like amphibians do. Hopefully I, myself, would return to this same beach, at the same time, next year (as these turtles usually lay their eggs once a year in May/June and the eggs hatch in August). 

This was definitely a night I would never forget. I gave a sigh of contentment as I gazed at the sand which only minutes earlier had been the focus of my amazement.

As I left the beach that night, uncomfortable, thirsty, wet, sandy, sweaty, tired, and with aching feet (from walking over all the sharp rocks barefoot), I could only smile. It had all been worth it! My mind was dancing, my heart was warm, and I was on a high. I knew that I would follow the aquatic journey of those baby turtles in my dreams that night. Maybe someday I would return to this secret beach, with my own family, to share this wonderful experience, rejoicing in the miracle of life!