After paddling with a group of dolphins (You haven’t read about that yet? Click here, and come right back!), and paddling in deep water with a manatee (Oh, come on! You haven’t read that one either? Well, go on and click here. We’ll wait while you catch up.), we had just witnessed a giant sea turtle coming to land to lay her eggs. And, we realized that we had accidentally scared her. We had seen so many warnings not to interfere with the sea turtles, that I felt a sense of guilt for frightening the mama.
We went back inside and told the kids about the sighting. They were amazed, and one of them lead the group with, “Hey, aren’t we suppose to stay away from the sea turtles?” Byron and I let the guilt sink deeper. On nearly every surface in the rental house, Do Not Disturb the Sea Turtles warned us away from the turtles. The kids’ scolding stopped after they lost interest and started dancing around the room to Sia playing from an iPhone.
Later that evening, Byron and I walked on the beach to watch the moon over the water. Walking hand in hand, we both came to an abrupt halt as the sea turtle tumbled out of the ocean near where we stood. We think it was the same one we saw earlier. There is no way for us to know for certain, but we guessed it was.
We stood as still as we could, watching in awe as she came up on the beach and started to dig in the sand about 20 feet from where she left the water.
It was then that the mobile phone in my pocket lit up the dark beach and began ringing. I immediately grabbed the phone to answer, hoping to stop the sound.
“Hey, Mom,” my 14-year-old energetically asked, “So, have you seen any turtles?”
I walked away, in hopes the turtle would not be bothered, but let’s face it, everyone is irritated by phone calls that disturb a quiet evening.
I whispered into the phone, “She’s here. The turtle is here.”
“WHAT, MOM?” Arden bellowed into the phone.
Meanwhile, Byron was making the universal sign for STOP TALKING by miming “stop talking,” with his mouth and using his pointer finger traveling across his neck to suggest I STOP.
I hung up the phone, realizing the noise was bothering Mama Turtle. Instead, I texted to Arden as quickly as my slow-texting skills would allow, “Hurry. Come outside. Turtle is Here!”
I looked up to see the burning glare of Byron and Mama Turtle and quickly pocketed my phone.
Arden ran down from the house to find us and stood by Byron’s side.
The turtle got up from her spot and started quickly moving towards me while making a grunting sound. I couldn’t blame her. I had just disturbed her egg laying. I’ve been in labor before, and I know what those pregnancy hormones can do.
While the three of us stood there frozen, I ran through the cabinets of my brain trying to find information on what to do when a grumpy mama sea turtle attacks me on a beach, and I wasn’t finding anything in my files. I could not think of what in the world I should do as Mama Turtle came closer to me.
About a few feet away from me, she stopped and stared me down.
By then, I figured I had halted her moment of laying eggs, so I did what nearly everyone else with an iPhone in her pocket would do.
I took a step to the side, getting away from her charging path if she decided to continue moving in my direction, and I took a non-flash picture of her.
Mama Turtle
Turning her head towards me and giving me a look of exasperation only a mother can give, she waddled back into the dark ocean.
We quietly walked back to the house hoping she would later give it one more try. We made sure we kept all the lights off for the rest of the evening. The open blinds and the light of the moon made it easy.
As we sat on the balcony, we would occasionally see families on their late evening walks. I wanted to warn them to stay away, so Mama Turtle could have some peace and finally lay her eggs. I thought better of waving my arms and yelling at the peaceful walkers, and I just sat there hoping Mama Turtle would wait a little bit longer to come back.
The next morning, we saw the turtle patrol, two elderly ladies, riding in a golf cart with Turtle Patrol painted on the side of their ride, placing flags along the beach. We guessed those flags were to mark where turtles had possibly laid their eggs the night before.
After breakfast, Byron and I got the boards from under the house and paddled out into the ocean. We paddled about 10 yards from each other to give room for peace.
Sitting on my board 100 yards from shore, in water way over my head, I silently breathed in the energy of the ocean air and breathed out harmony.