Heading Home

I was living in the state of Oaxaca in the Southwest of Mexico when I decided to take the four-hour, vomit-inducing bus ride through the crinkled mountain ranges from the heart of the state to its sea-lapped edge. I was headed to Puerto Escondido - which means 'hidden port' in Spanish - to meet up with a friend who was spending the week playing guitar on the beach, which sounded like an ideal way to spend my long weekend off work.

At the beach my friend and I stumbled across a turtle and crocodile sanctuary. As we approached to ask questions, we saw a large croc hanging out on the beach, giving us some reptilian side eye. My friend and I had two very different reactions... Whilst he instinctively got his camera out and went closer to take a picture, I scanned my surroundings for trees to run up and tried to remember if it was crocodiles that were the ones who couldn't turn very quickly and so you are advised to run in a zig-zagged pattern if chased by one. Advice I didn't know I might need one day. My friend laughed at me to which I replied that I enjoyed having all of my limbs intact and would stick to photogrpahing the turtles, if we were lucky enough to see any.

Once we skirted around the croc and entered the sanctuary (and, yes, we informed them of the new acquaintance we had made outside) we quickly discovered we were indeed in luck. The next day the sanctuary was to release some newly hatched turtles back to the sea so we returned early the next morning to help out. In plastic crates teeming with what looked like one undulating mass of dark shiny shell, tiny flippers waved their hellos, wriggling impatiently. I don't know who was more excited, me or them.

Sea turtles can be found all along the Mexican shore on both the Pacific and the Gulf where they lay their eggs in the sand - up to 200 eggs per nest. As well as natural predators like birds and crabs, these offspring are vulnerable to human interference. Development and bright beach lights confuse and interrupt these natural turtles breeding grounds and, what's more, people collect and sell the eggs on the black market where they can reap a good price. I once saw a group of partygoers on a beach in El Salvador surround a huge female as she laid her eggs, shining a light on her and trying to collect the eggs as she was still laying them so I've seen this first-hand. Conservation projects are therefore important turtle co-conspirators to ensure the species survives and thrives to a ripe old age.

We took the babies to the shore and had the privilege of lowering them onto the cool sand and watching as their inner compasses drove them, wobbly but certain, towards to water's edge. The air was warming up and the waves shushed the beach and I marvelled at how such small creatures were about to be swallowed up by the vastness of the ocean in front of us, far-reaching and immense. As they reached the sea, the waves washed them off balance and swept them up with the pull of the tide where they then disappeared from our view. A couple of stragglers hobbled off in the wrong direction so we gently repositioned them to join the others before some hungry sea birds could get to them.

Everyone was quiet, respectful of the event we were witnessing and privy to. Only the sea called quietly to the turtles as we saw them off to start life out where they belonged. It is estimated that only 1 in 1,000 hatchlings survive into adulthood so I silently wished them luck good - buena suerte, amiguitos!