Common Mock Viper

We all know how much I love the raking (refresher here). As I pulled the cover off our compost pile this morning to dump out a bunch of leaves, I was treated to something I fancy even more than raking: a snake. The serpent was coiled-up on top of the pile, probably getting some morning-time heat. The Common Mock Viper (Psammodynastes pulverulentus) stayed immobile and let me snap away. I'm into that. *** Enlarge the photos by clicking on 'em.

I've seen this species before on Tioman and even on JTP's grounds previously, too. Some interesting tidbits on this species: they mimics pitvipers (a subfamily of venomous snakes, of which rattlesnakes and bushmasters are in) by possessing enlarged maxillary teeth, which aren't the hollow fangs that rattlers and co. are famous for. These teeth still deliver mildly toxic saliva, which can cause burning and itching sensations if us humans get bit, but I don't plan on partaking in that. Even if these photos we're a little too close for Alli's comfort.

Turtle Stats for 2012

The sea turtle nesting and hatchling season has come to an end. We haven't had a nest since early August. Our 44th and final clutch of the year hatched about one week ago. The monsoon season, and its accompanying waves (which are a blast to surf in a sit-on-top kayak), is creeping in. So no more Green or Hawksbill turtles will lay eggs and obviously no new young-ins will hatch. As Mr. Womack sang, "it's all over now." Take a glance below at our numbers for 2012. Not atrocious, but not too robust either.

Only 8 female turtles visited 3 beaches. Not to confuse anyone but that's very low. There used to be 2-3 different turtles visiting Mentawak beach (where JTP resides) per night decades ago. This year just 3 showed up - out of 8 months when they coulda nested. The optimistic takeaway is that projects doing hatchery work, protecting eggs and releasing babies have seen an increase in nesting turtles, but we got a long way to go before that's possible for us. Green turtles take 25-40 years before they return to nest (longer than any turtle, marine or terrestrial, in the world). Hawksbills start plopping out eggs a little earlier, after 20 years. JTP has only been around for 6 years, with a government run hatchery operating for 5 years before that. We got some time before it's possible for more turtles to start showing up. Another bright spot: I'm proud of our 88.4% hatching success rate. At least we got as many of those tiny turtles into the ocean as we could.

Daily Photos: Retractable Roof for the Seedlings

Hammering away like it ain't no thing. Retractable roof in progress.

Alli's got a solid station where she keeps all her seedlings, letting the little buggers grow so they can beef up, get big, pass puberty and become ready to be planted in the ground. "Who run it" Three 6 Mafia once asked? Well at JTP, the Lady does when it comes to gardening. She noticed sometime back that seedlings in the middle of the table weren't getting enough sunshine. Unacceptable she said. The ones that received sun on an occasional basis throughout the day were bulking up faster than their shaded comrades. Solution: retractable roof!

I decided to head this up so the output is shoddy at best, but functional. I retied the roof, reorganized sticks and bamboo, slammed in a few nails and tied some loops to secure the new movable addition. The construction has yet to tumble down to the ground, which is encouraging. Wait, breaking news, as I was about to post this Alli told me very plainly: "It's broken," and then laughed. I'll get on that tomorrow. As for the seedlings, when the roof is popped back, they shinin.'

Get your shine on: the seedling table.

Urgent: Please Sign Petition for Turtle Friendly Development in Juara

Development is currently underway on Mentawak Beach that threatens the population of Green sea turtles nesting here. Mentawak beach is where JTP resides and where Alli and I have been living since we left the U.S. in April. Most of JTP's work over the last six years, plus ours since we got here, will be in vain if we don't protect this habitat. Action is needed now to make sure turtle-friendly development is put in place or the turtles of Tioman will edge closer to extinction. Please follow the link below and sign the petition. Then spread the word people. Thank you so much everyone!

Petition link: http://www.gopetition.com/petitions/support-sea-turtle-friendly-development-on-mentawak-bea.html

I will be writing more about this pressing subject, as well as what the future holds for sea turtles, JTP and Juara in general, soon on the blog. Stay tuned. Below is a map of the current development plans for Mentawak, as well as photos of the vegetation being cut and habitat for nesting turtles disappearing. *** All photos can be enlarged by clicking on them.***

Notice the red streaks - a lot more chalets, lights and people are being planned for Mentawak Beach. The turtles are going to be pushed out, as well as natural vegetation line along the beach.

Above two photos: vegetation being cleared directly south of JTP, between us and Lagoon. Notice the photo on the bottom that vegetation still exists right of the sign, but to the left it is gone.

Above two photos: vegetation being cleared directly north of JTP for a future resort. It used to be very hard to see the ocean from where these photos were taken. Not anymore.

New chalets going in on the north end of Mentawak Beach. Opening soon.

These two photos of nesting Green turtles on Mentawak beach could  a thing of the past if measures aren't taken for turtle-friendly development to be put in place.

Laying Down Cement for a Poop Tank

That right there is some cement mixing on up.

Right now at JTP we are quite busy. We recently overhauled our volunteer program. High tourist season is upon us so many folks are receiving our turtle talks and learning that we do much more here than keep a blind handicapped turtle in a pot. We are also in the midst of dealing with pending large scale development that could irreparably harm Mentawak beach, simply meaning turtles might not nest here anymore. If this happens, the Greens and Hawksbill females that still visit only a few Tioman beaches to lay eggs will be one step closer to extinction here on the island. More on this unprecedented situation in an upcoming blog post. *** All photos can be enlarged by clicking on them.***

Check out my one-wheel motion, jealous Ice Cube?

Making it rain cement on this here septic.

While all of these issues are being diligently worked on the gears got to keep rolling at JTP, too. Leaves must be raked, beaches must be patrolled, talks must be given, and ongoing chalet construction continues, to name a few. We do everything in house. One of the two chalets currently being built here is almost complete. Hopefully when she gets back from visiting her family Izzati will be able to take up residence in the humble abode. Charlie gets a massive shout out for cranking away at this chalet for months now. He's done most of the work. I'd like to take credit for it looking so so def (this is definitely my first Jermaine Dupri reference on the blog), but I can't.

As the great philosopher Joe Dirt, circa 2001, said: shit'll buff out!

 

Today one of the last acts before we can cut the red ribbon was finished. The septic tank received a smooth cement top and luckily didn't cave in. Two days ago we gave the future poop and piss holding cell some cement walls and today we buffed out a cement roof. Charlie mixed and mashed cement. I wheelbarrowed it over, plopped it on down and smoothed it all around, like spreading oil evenly in a pan. This was the first septic tank construction I've ever been a part of. Felt real nice. Soon we'll put the lid on and then the flushing can begin.

The finished product. The message is oh so funny because it couldn't be farther opposite from the truth.

The tank with the nearly completed chalet in the background, aka Big Swiss.

Compost Queen!

Alli had quite the triumphant day in the garden. She was getting her green thumb on no doubt! The reason for her lovely smile in these following photos is well worth it. Let me explain: the soil around here just ain't that grand. All of the sand and heavy rains washing nutrients away make it a struggle to grow more than a few standard crops (banana, papaya, tapioca, okra, cucumber and coconuts do well, but not always). Throw in some ravenous bugs, snails and monkeys, and a lot of what she plants gets devoured. I've seen steam shooting out of her ears in frustration on more than a few occasions. But not today.

Compost Queen rockin' the second compost bin scene.

Since the soil is mostly sad we have a few wooden compost bins lying about the project, three to be exact. These stupendous contraptions speed up the process of turning leaves (dead and alive) and other organic matter into dirt. Check out my earlier raking post if you want more of the low down on this. And today that dirt looked incredible!

Fine soil indeed, oooooo-weeeeee lay it on me!

That's right, we celebrated having some solid dirt around here on this fine Sunday. Many high-fives were given and "Hells yeah" were spoken (well maybe only I still use that silly phrase). Whatever the form of celebration, it was a joyous moment, especially for Alli, to gaze into that wooden box and see a low pile of attractive brown soil staring back at her. It has been a long time coming. She's been churning that pile for some time now; raking, stirring and keeping it well soggy with water when needed.

What a compost bin looks like filled up (also occurring today, the morning raking scene was busy). You can see from the other photos how much all this stuff be breaking down.

She plopped some in the wheelbarrow and let it slide into a new bed she's gonna plant. Papaya, amaranth, eggplant and cilantro are soon to find a new home in there. Hopefully we'll be munching on some of these crops in the near future. If not, then I'm sure we'll be cursing those previously scorned bugs, snails and monkeys. It's funny when you live here how quickly the monkeys go from a mesmerizing mammal to stare at, to dirty rotten thieves who plunder all your hard-work and snatch that delicious looking papaya you've been eyeing for some time. But regardless of the outcome, at least our soil will be looking high class!

Moving that fine lookin' dirt!

One School Group and the Best Turtle Quote Ever

Awhile back Alice Smith, an international school from Kuala Lumpur, spent a few days at the turtle project. A total of 150 high school kids came through the project in six different shifts over three days. Whammo! We were busy. We had groups of 25 on the grounds at each time and unfortunately the kids only came by once so we didn't get to know them too well since they only spent a few hours here then left. All groups got the usual conservation spiel of ours. Then it was activity time, which consisted of two things: either helping build terraces for a slew of new banana trees on a hillside or constructing fresh uniform signboards for our public outreach area. Alli was in charge of terracing and fruit, myself the wood, hammers, nails and chiseling that would eventually turn into signboards.

Alice Smith students, from Kuala Lumpur, getting busy putting in a banana terrace.

Motivating city high school kids who just want to holiday on a tropical island can be a daunting feat. I might just be getting old but the idea of profusely sweating outside, getting your hands dirty and ferociously pounding chisels with hammers is not on a younger generations' to-do-list. Some kids could care less, some went through the motions, while others seemed interested and then there were the ones who were super duper into it. One group out of the six was gung-ho: they went to town on the banana terraces and also helped me crank out some signboards, carving wood and notching posts like pros. The whole crew was rockin' in the free world. It was such a treat to see younger folk actually get behind some of the conservation (sea turtle and marine awareness) and self-sufficient (farming our own food) ideas we presented to them just before they started work.

One of the signboard crews chiseling away. I photobombed this one beautifully.

Plus the winner of the best turtle quote ever came from this bunch. The lines were spoken up on the hillside terrace, where Alli was lucky enough to hear them. It goes like this:

Teacher to students: "Alright everyone we have only five minutes left to work, as the taxis are already here to take us back."

Amazing student: "Five minutes!?!?! The turtles don't have five minutes! They're dying!!!"

He then proceeded to keep savagely shoveling away dirt on the hillside. So glorious. 

More enthusiastic students getting their banana terrace on.

Saved by Sound

I've been doing the field biology thing for a little while now. Over the last couple of years I scoured the desert ground for a lot of herps, sometimes for official business, but mostly for thrills and pleasure - the pure fun of it. One thing I came to know quickly: listening matters, a lot. Sure, you need a solid set of eyes to find what you're looking for, but keeping your ears open and paying attention to the audio cues around you is also mightily important and useful. Good thing I’ve only seen two Dinosaur Jr. shows in my life, cause a collection of their ticket stubs has to affect one’s hearing.

Listening enabled me to see Desert tortoises duke it out and a Tiger rattlesnake woof down a mouse. I found a lot of Gila monsters and tortoises this way, plus zoned in on quite a few snakes. And since they shout out for all to hear, following the calls of toads and frogs usually rewards you with a slap-happy monsoon pool of amphibian copulation that is always comical to see. The point is: keep your ears open and sometimes it's alright to just shut the hell up in the field. And soak up the sounds.

Louise the Green turtle laying her first nest of 2012 on Mentawak Beach on  April 14th.  All red light photos of Louise are from previous landings, not the night I'm writing about now. Call it red-light photo turtle fatigue.

On June 6th turtle watch was on. Louise (named after my Grandma and pictured above) was expected to grace us with a clutch of eggs for the sixth time. Since Green turtles can nest up to seven times, but often fall short of this number we weren't completely positive our first Mentawak Beach mother of 2012 would return. At 20:23 hours Alli and I saw that she did, except we messed it all up. 

When patrolling a nesting beach the ideal spot to walk is between the high tide line and vegetation, which is up on the beach away from the water line. The Lady and I were not following this rule at all. We were strolling at the water's edge for some reason. I honestly don't know why. Alli shined her red light ahead of us and there was our large female breaking the surf and coming onto land. The light went right into her eyes. After a few quiet, but startled "Holy shits," we retreated away in hope she would still come on shore. She didn't. We scared her off. She was coming ashore between JTP and Lagoon, a resort at the end of Mentawak. Now she was back in Juara Bay and (hopefully) plotting to get onto the sand sometime later tonight. Usually when you interrupt a turtle like this it's the equivalent of being walked in on in a bathroom stall. You feel semi-violated for a moment and stop what you're doing, but eventually the process continues. Past experiences say the turtle would make another landing, especially since it was still early.

She fell in the pit definitely to the tune of Parks and Rec.

I did a stealth walk of the beach with no light and (of course) up higher, but this discovered nothing. We then decided to continue our regular walking schedule in hope she would return.

At 23:05 I was strolling the beach and heard some intriguing noise, which sounded a lot like sand whacking leaves (I need to work on more mysterious foreshadowing). Not much on the beach this hour makes noise besides turtles flinging sand, tourists being soused, or your occasional cat mucking about. I heard it again and again, the sand ramming against the vegetation. I was walking near the high-tide line and saw no turtle tracks in the area though. None. The moon was assisting, and along with my red light, I couldn’t find any tracks at all. I kept hearing the noise and after a minute or so decided to investigate regardless of the lack of tracks. I got down low and crept toward the sound, eventually losing all my dreams of becoming a suspense novelist, but I did scope out the turtle we spooked earlier.

I rang the gang and since she was close everyone got there fast. She laid 125 eggs between 23:50 and midnight, and left for Juara Bay about 70 minutes after that. But this is merely the standard data and numbers I’m regurgitating back to you all.

Slip slidin' away... to the tune of Paul Simon, duh...

This night is inimitable for another reason: no tracks existed because they were covered up by people. When folks showed up they commented on the absence of tracks too. After she was done laying eggs, we started to poke around. There were no standard turtle tracks leading up to the body pit, but a lot of other markings made a nice trail to our female. Zig-zag patterns from the ocean to her were present. Imagine slowly walking on a beach and moving one of your feet back and forth, left and right, like the scraggly line on a heart rate monitor, but vertical instead of horizontal. At the water’s edge a smattering of footprints existed too, with the zig-zags heading up from there.

Before long we knew what the jig was. Other folks found the turtle before us and covered up her tracks, with the hope of leaving us in the lurch. We never see the tracks, find no nest, stop our patrols for the evening and they come back, dig out the nest and have 125 eggs at their disposal. No other options were feasible.

The kicker is no one was around when I found the turtle. And nobody was seen while we hung out in anticipation and then collected the eggs. After our people-covered-up-the-tracks hypothesis was agreed upon, we all hung back as Louise covered up her now empty nest. Sitting in a quiet circle, enduring the dead wind and ravenous sand flies, we chatted quietly about the covered-up tracks. It’s disheartening to think people, only a couple minutes walk away from JTP, would so obviously try to trick you so they could take some eggs. Frustration and dismay were in the air, along with relief that we got the leg up this time. Nights like this exemplify in bold letters with an exclamation point why our daily beach patrols are necessary. JTP’s been going for six years and after all its time here people still want to take eggs next door from us. Conservation work is a prolonged slog. We obviously haven’t convinced some people a turtles’ eggs are worth more in the ground than out of it.

Her one-way track back to the sea the next morning. I tried getting a photo of the covered up tracks but  after so long they just looked like plain ol' disturbed sand.

Around 00:45, as Louise was still covering up, we heard the “bip bip bip” sounds of an alarm on a stop-watch. A reminder for the covered-up track crew that it might be safe to dig out the nest? Maybe. Nobody showed and shortly after Izati and I sleuthed around with our torch lights to see if anyone was milling about or hiding. Nothing. Five minutes later though we heard two motorbike engines rev up relatively close by and head off. Coincidence? Could be. We’ll never know.

People were thrilled I found the turtle without seeing tracks. Not me. If we had followed protocol and walked the beach the correct way, Louise wouldn’t have gotten rattled. Eggs would have been laid much earlier in the evening. Considering the location of her first attempt the tracks, most likely, would have remained intact and not become a thing of the past. Saved by sound tonight? Yeah, you could say that. But I wonder if there are a collection of past ghost tracks we’ve never found. With tracks being deliberately disguised on the beach JTP resides on and having already endured our first poached nest of 2012 in May, it’s going to take a lot more than open ears, and even eyes, to alleviate the challenges these sea turtles face on their natal beaches. We’ll gladly take this nest for now, but it just shows the present and future have a noisy disposition.

Sweaty Man and the Banana Stand

Forgive our lack of posting, but we had to do a visa run to Singapore, which in itself is another story altogether. Soon it will be told via this blog. I also recently am a novice Kindle Fire owner due to a birthday present from my Dad. I'm still getting used to the device and my old-school media stubbornness has also not totally subsided yet either. A Kindle in the the hands of someone who subscribed to two newspapers, frequently purchased used books and possessed a prepaid Nokia before we left for Asia is an uphill battle. But I might be on the verge of being beaten down.

Mostly because hauling around an assortment of books in a large backpack in a tropical humid climate leads to a lot of perspiration, stank and less room for other essentials, like clothes and coffee. One issue I do have with the Kindle is that Blogger don't work on it so that's why no posts were blasted out into cyberspace on our holiday in Singapore. Now that we're back in Juara, and I'm in a jolly writing mood, we'll get back to our semi-regular broadcasting schedule.

Speaking of sweat (and maybe because my photo collection is lacking at the moment), the moment captured below is of me pruning one of our many banana trees. I'm also sweating profusely in the afternoon sunshine. We got a lot of bananas on the property and once in awhile someone needs to get our extended pruning machete out to chop down dead leaves, and other riff-raff we don't want on or near the trees. I love doing it, but I'm not quite a master banana manicurist yet. I might have accidentally scalped some banana fruit just a few minutes after this photo was taken. Luckily we still harvested the bunch some days later and all were delectable, except for the three I had decapitated. The bugs, and later the chickens, ate those.

Prune them banana leaves!

Photo(s) of the Day: Bizarre Breakfast Trio

Alli and I have decided that it would be cool to follow in the footsteps of a million bloggers and photographers, along with plenty of the dead tree media, and publish a photo or two on a somewhat daily basis. Now, we're not gonna do one or a couple everyday because as soon as I start slippin' then that'll reflect poorly on us, specifically my problems on being punctual. Brian time is always slower than Alli time. Most people (especially Alli!) won't argue this.

What we want to do is just share some visuals on everything that we do, see or deal with on a daily basis. This could be (duh!) pictures of sea turtles or anything else encountered here throughout our day: from branching corals and our lunch, to what we unload on the cargo boat, or even the pathetic dirt hole we unsuccessfully dug out that was originally going to be a new septic tank, but will now settle for only greywater. The point is to show you that life and work here is much more than turtles, sand, beaches and palm trees. Self-indulgent? Absolutely, but isn't that what blogging is all about! Enjoy the photos folks. Comments are always appreciated.

Just to start if off right and show that it ain't all about photos of cute-as-a-button baby turtles here at the JTP, the inaugural photo is of Alli indulging in the most absurd breakfast plate of all time. This took place about one week ago. On her plate is deep fried potatoes and leftover Nutella chocolate cake from Dani's birthday the night before. What she is about to take a bite of is egg salad on toast. So there you have it: fried taters, chocolate cake and egg salad. An oddball breakfast trio if there ever was one. Makan makan!

Down it! I'll admit cake and taters for breakfast was lovely, but egg salad too? No thanks. Never been a fan of that stuff, especially when its warm and reeks of mayonnaise. Alli loves it though! 

Juara Raking Team

Here at the JTP there is one piece of yard equipment everyone gets to know real well: the rake. After living in the Sonoran Desert for the last four-plus years I sorta forgot it existed. I mean, ain't many leaves to be getting rid of unless you live in manicured suburbia or atop one of the desert's sky islands. I don't think anyone will admit they regularly rake up those dinky mesquite tree leaves that fall to the ground.

I know what you're thinking. Is he really going to write an entire blog on raking leaves? Maybe I am, but I promise it'll be much more interesting that just your average, everyday yarn about raking. Or maybe it won't.

Alli don't mess around when it comes to raking! Sassy strokes.

When everything is open (no doors, flung windows) and you're sandwiched between the beach and jungle it's too damn easy for everything to get dirty, dusty and sandy very quickly. So of course when Alli and I first showed up here we had to jump right in when it came to getting the morning chores done. Wiping down tables and counters? Yeah that's okay. Changing the foot bucket water? Too quick. Sweeping the big house deck? Whatever, never been an enthusiastic broom fan. But getting my rake on while listening to UGK, Baby Huey or Funkadelic? You had me from the first morning JTP (or maybe the second, jet-lag is lame).

Uncle Rake Wants You!

The chain of events is simple and goes like this: most of our facility is located under trees, leaves fall from them and clutter the ground we're on. These leaves get everywhere, all over JTP's grounds, from the visitation area to around our chalets and gardens. A large amount of leaves awaits us every morning. Because of this we get our rake on, on the regular. Some people say cigarettes and coffee go hand-in-hand, but that's a basket of hogwash. Caffeine and raking are the duo, especially when sweet milk tops it up to a glorious trio. Side note: Malaysia loves the phrase "top up." It's like fill up or get more of something. Example: I have to "top up" minutes every two weeks on my cell phone here.

Putting leaves into piles around our fire pit and garden table area. I love piles, just ask Alli! She misses all the newspapers piles I had in the U.S. so much.

If we don't rake on a daily basis not only will the ground disappear under leaf litter, but our place will look rag-tag and half-assed. Since we are open to the public and are pretty much the only conservation organization on Tioman, it's vital we look good. Representing the face of sea turtles and trying to embody the novel idea of environmental stewardship doesn't work too well if your place of work resembles an unkempt dump.

That girl know how to sift! I'm going out on a limb here, but I think Alli fancies raking to Beyonce.

But the reasons to embrace raking just keep on coming. All the leaves are sifted to get rid of sand, collected in a wheelbarrow and thrown on top of our bursting-at-the-seams compost pile. We wait a little bit, stir that sucker every week or so, and after everything has taken its time to break down (including weeds, crusty old food and more) you can ram a shovel in the pile and bring out a nice heaping scoop of grade-A quality dirt. Alli loves this dirt. She plants new things in it, such as pumpkin, along with the standard-bearers here: okra and cucumbers. 

Our giant soft compost pile with the chicken coop in the background.

The cycle keeps on going. Leaves fall, we rake, we wait and then the dirt comes. The process is stupendous for us since soil quality here is not too, well, quality. We also have three compost boxes in effect now so that's speeds up the process of getting soil too. I must now take a moment to thank my parents who made me rake our yard in Maryland growing up all the time. I don't think I appreciated it back then as much as I do now. We've been joking about getting some volunteer shirts made here at the JTP that say: "I came for the turtles, but stayed for the raking." Now I should heed my own advice. Raking starts in about five hours. Time to go.

Hallelujah for Hatchlings

Alli had been staring at the sand for awhile. It was moving and making some noises here and there. She knew what was going on. I had strolled down to the beach at the end of the work day to take a swim, rest and read some book. I never got around to any of those activities. I then preceded to stare at the sand with Alli for another 30-40 minutes. I then knew what was coming too: hatchling Hawksbill sea turtles! The inaugural batch of 2012.

We did this for awhile. What can I say we were hog-wild for hatchlings!

*** Note: all photos can be enlarged by clicking on them.

The only problem was this was the first time Alli and I had ever been around when the babies make their way up out of the sand. We didn't know if they'd take another 10 minutes or 4 hours. Before sunset for photos? Takeout dinner in the hatchery? Sprinting pee breaks? Vital questions we had no answers for. We were glued to the wiggling sand, continually watching it move about. You could hear the hatchlings rumbling below. Amazingly these tiny creatures (the shell is around 3.5 cm long) can take a day or two to dig out a nest 40 cm below the surface. That don't sound too jolly, but we had a feeling they were bout to hit pay dirt, or in this case, outside air.

Are them turtle heads poppin' up!?! Come on buddies...

For the record: this all took place on 10 May, I've just been a bad chronological blogger and haven't posted it yet. I'll try to be more timely, but one of the things you definitely learn in journalism school: always push the deadline. 

Moving on. After over an hour of staring one lil' bugger broke free. Another head poked out, a new flipper popped up and then it was a full-on turtle stampede. Flailing around and scurrying everywhere the hatchlings kept coming, like deranged Black Friday shoppers blood-thirsty for flat screens and video games. I can't undersell the moment. It was frickin' incredible. Watching a boil (who came up with this term!?!) of sea turtles come up like that is a surreal sight. And they just keep coming.

The winner of the grand sand race finally shows! First one is out.

After picking our jaws up and toning down the exciting expletives we kept repeating Alli and I started to transport the babies into a large cooler, counting as we plopped the manic turtles down. Dani and Izati were there too. One cool sight: while the turtles were still in the mesh net milling about, all were trying to get out and go toward the ocean. None were facing land or the jungle!

 

Can't stop, won't stop! More and more making their way to the top.

When all were accounted for 117 had made the vertical journey out of 140 eggs. That's a solid 83% hatching success rate, pretty dang good for Hawksbills. We then measured the length and width of 10 hatchlings and secured them in a huge tub. When you got 6 cats on the premises you need security.  In the days that followed another 5 made the journey out and then one loner a few days after that, pushing out total to 123.

Counting babies and into the cooler they go!

These babies came from a nest on Penut, a beach south of Juara Bay we monitor by boat. At 1am that same night we loaded up and headed out to release them. We always release from the location they were found. Some rocky reef was exposed on our walk in even though it was high-tide. These rocks are slippery. I was the one with the cooler full of hatchlings. I was concentrating a lot to not be the late-night dufus that dropped the babies. Nobody likes that dude or dudette.

Alli lookin' good with a turtle...

... and this dude lookin' creepy.

We got in position. Found a nice spot on the beach. Alli positioned the cooler, tipping it over just enough that they exploded out! Flippers gone wild, maneuvering over sand then rocks, but after that? Only ocean. Into the surf and disappear they did.

Above: the entire crew before release. Alli: set them free girl!

The hatchlings were released about 9 meters from the water line. Most of 'em took about 1.50 minutes to get into the ocean. One slow poke (he had some issues moving around a large rock) dragged behind, but after 4.30 minutes even this tortoise in the gang got to the finish line. Our job was done. They made it into the water. Hopefully in 20 years or so they'll make it back.