Tiny Turtle Makes a Break for the Sea
Late September
We are back home now and I want to tie up a few loose ends. We had a few adventures in our last week or so in Panama and a truly horrible flight back home.
Let’s start with one of those heart-warming stories.
Dawn made her usual sunset trek down to the beach. She had only been gone a few minutes when she came charging back up to the house.
“Come quickly,” she shouted. “There’s a nest of turtle eggs hatching.”
In an instant I had my sandals on and took off after her with Wes and Joyce in close pursuit.
She took us up the beach about a quarter mile and pointed to a turtle nest.
“I saw three turtles climbing out of the sand and crawling down to the water.”
What a thrill. I’ve been waiting to see this since we got here. Sure enough another baby turtle popped up through the sand. Then another and another.
Joyce, who is an expert on all things turtle, started picking them up and setting them on the top of the ridge of sand so that they would have an easy climb down to the sea.
By the time she had twenty or so, Wes was digging out the nest with his hands. He started pulling baby turtles out with both hands. Then the sand seemed to bubble and dozens of turtle heads boiled through the sand.
At first I stepped back. They looked like snake heads to me. Then the first ones drug themselves free of the sand and I could see they were tiny turtles. The ground absolutely boiled with them. There were more than a hundred coming out of that nest.
Being careful stewards of the environment, we stayed and protected the little turtles until they all reached the sea.
Birds and land-dwelling predators often pick them off and eat them before they reach the relative safety of the water. With human protectors, the predators are afraid to attack. When the turtles reach the water they are offered some safety. The birds, snakes and raccoons can’t get to them anymore, but there are many vicious predators in the water. I have heard that only ten to twenty percent of the turtles that hatch make it back on lay eggs to the beach where they were born.
Life ain’t easy if you’re a turtle.
After about an hour we had the last turtle safely swimming. By then it was dark and we all headed back to the house with a sense of accomplishment.
We are back home now and I want to tie up a few loose ends. We had a few adventures in our last week or so in Panama and a truly horrible flight back home.
Let’s start with one of those heart-warming stories.
Dawn made her usual sunset trek down to the beach. She had only been gone a few minutes when she came charging back up to the house.
“Come quickly,” she shouted. “There’s a nest of turtle eggs hatching.”
In an instant I had my sandals on and took off after her with Wes and Joyce in close pursuit.
She took us up the beach about a quarter mile and pointed to a turtle nest.
“I saw three turtles climbing out of the sand and crawling down to the water.”
What a thrill. I’ve been waiting to see this since we got here. Sure enough another baby turtle popped up through the sand. Then another and another.
Joyce, who is an expert on all things turtle, started picking them up and setting them on the top of the ridge of sand so that they would have an easy climb down to the sea.
By the time she had twenty or so, Wes was digging out the nest with his hands. He started pulling baby turtles out with both hands. Then the sand seemed to bubble and dozens of turtle heads boiled through the sand.
At first I stepped back. They looked like snake heads to me. Then the first ones drug themselves free of the sand and I could see they were tiny turtles. The ground absolutely boiled with them. There were more than a hundred coming out of that nest.
Being careful stewards of the environment, we stayed and protected the little turtles until they all reached the sea.
Birds and land-dwelling predators often pick them off and eat them before they reach the relative safety of the water. With human protectors, the predators are afraid to attack. When the turtles reach the water they are offered some safety. The birds, snakes and raccoons can’t get to them anymore, but there are many vicious predators in the water. I have heard that only ten to twenty percent of the turtles that hatch make it back on lay eggs to the beach where they were born.
Life ain’t easy if you’re a turtle.
After about an hour we had the last turtle safely swimming. By then it was dark and we all headed back to the house with a sense of accomplishment.
Turtles Go Crazy on the Beach
Next up are a couple of less pleasant episodes. I’ll tell you about the snake first, because only my life was in jeopardy. The second story threatened to take us all.
It was a morning, just like any other morning, until I heard Dawn scream.
“There’s a snake in the bathroom!”
I dragged myself out of bed and found my glasses and slippers.
“Where?”
“On the bottom shelf.”
Since there is only one set of shelves in the guest bathroom, it should be easy enough to find.
I stepped cautiously into the bathroom to search for the offending serpent. Didn’t see it.
“Are you sure? Maybe it slithered off?”
Dawn tiptoed in to the bathroom and gently removed a towel from the shelf. Sure enough, there it was. A small terciopelo, the deadliest snake in Central America.
Are baby vipers less poisonous than adults? I don’t know and I wasn’t about to find out. I went to the arsenal (kitchen) for weaponry.
I got a broom, an oven glove and a long pair of tongs.
Armed and ready for battle, I headed back to the bathroom. The snake appeared to be sleeping. I used the broom to trap the snake and picked it up behind the head with the tongs. It couldn’t reach me.
The little bugger was about two feet long. He twisted his tail around my arm, but couldn’t reach my hand.
Taking him out on the deck, I flung him into the jungle. It wasn’t one of my best shots. He ended up in a tree right over the sidewalk. Anyone walking up the sidewalk was easy prey for him. He could just drop down on their head and shoulders and strike.
Fortunately, visitors are few and far between. When I checked on him an hour or so later, he was gone.
On our last Saturday in Bocas, Wes wanted to take us to see some friends on a little island in Dolphin Bay. We hired a boat to pick us up at Starfish Beach and take us on the trip.
We stopped to do some snorkeling on the way. When we arrived at the reef, we were the only boat. When I came out of the water there were a half dozen or more boats.
The reefs in Bocas are not like Hawaii or Mexico. They are very young. As a matter of fact, Panama has the only growing reefs in the Caribbean. The others are slowly dying away due mostly to human pollution.
It’s kinda different. The bay has a sandy bottom and colonies of coral dot the sand. Some are quite small and some of the colonies are five or six feet high.
We put on our gear and jumped in the water. We all swam in different directions. I found a couple of large chunks of coral that looked like good grounds for viewing fish.
I swam to them and as I got there, I spied the two largest angel fish I’d ever seen. They were approximately the size of a small tire. They must have been two feet long. I had no idea that the little guys we keep in our aquariums could grow to this size.
I surfaced and called the group over, but by the time they got there, the fish were gone. It was another unconfirmed sighting.
We climbed back into the boat and headed off to see Wes’s friends, Jan and George. They live on a tiny island with one other family.
It was a morning, just like any other morning, until I heard Dawn scream.
“There’s a snake in the bathroom!”
I dragged myself out of bed and found my glasses and slippers.
“Where?”
“On the bottom shelf.”
Since there is only one set of shelves in the guest bathroom, it should be easy enough to find.
I stepped cautiously into the bathroom to search for the offending serpent. Didn’t see it.
“Are you sure? Maybe it slithered off?”
Dawn tiptoed in to the bathroom and gently removed a towel from the shelf. Sure enough, there it was. A small terciopelo, the deadliest snake in Central America.
Are baby vipers less poisonous than adults? I don’t know and I wasn’t about to find out. I went to the arsenal (kitchen) for weaponry.
I got a broom, an oven glove and a long pair of tongs.
Armed and ready for battle, I headed back to the bathroom. The snake appeared to be sleeping. I used the broom to trap the snake and picked it up behind the head with the tongs. It couldn’t reach me.
The little bugger was about two feet long. He twisted his tail around my arm, but couldn’t reach my hand.
Taking him out on the deck, I flung him into the jungle. It wasn’t one of my best shots. He ended up in a tree right over the sidewalk. Anyone walking up the sidewalk was easy prey for him. He could just drop down on their head and shoulders and strike.
Fortunately, visitors are few and far between. When I checked on him an hour or so later, he was gone.
On our last Saturday in Bocas, Wes wanted to take us to see some friends on a little island in Dolphin Bay. We hired a boat to pick us up at Starfish Beach and take us on the trip.
We stopped to do some snorkeling on the way. When we arrived at the reef, we were the only boat. When I came out of the water there were a half dozen or more boats.
The reefs in Bocas are not like Hawaii or Mexico. They are very young. As a matter of fact, Panama has the only growing reefs in the Caribbean. The others are slowly dying away due mostly to human pollution.
It’s kinda different. The bay has a sandy bottom and colonies of coral dot the sand. Some are quite small and some of the colonies are five or six feet high.
We put on our gear and jumped in the water. We all swam in different directions. I found a couple of large chunks of coral that looked like good grounds for viewing fish.
I swam to them and as I got there, I spied the two largest angel fish I’d ever seen. They were approximately the size of a small tire. They must have been two feet long. I had no idea that the little guys we keep in our aquariums could grow to this size.
I surfaced and called the group over, but by the time they got there, the fish were gone. It was another unconfirmed sighting.
We climbed back into the boat and headed off to see Wes’s friends, Jan and George. They live on a tiny island with one other family.
The Baby Turtles Finally Make it to the Sea
They originally came to the islands on their sailboat and still live on it some of the time. The rest of the time they live in a lovely vacation home that is owned by a French family. The family leaves the islands for the summer and Jan and George housesit for them.
The house is still under construction and the owners leave a list of items they want done during their absence. George is a marvelous craftsman and has done beautiful work on the house.
With all the exotic woods available here, he has done an outstanding job finishing rooms, installing the staircase, etc.
George gave us a brief tour of the island. I doubt that there is more than an acre of land and at extremely high tides, it’s under water. Everything is built on stilts to keep it dry. The house is actually built on stilts over the water. Only the front porch is on the island.
George and Jan are building their own home east of the Frenchies’ house. So far, they have a dock for their boat (home) and workshop built. George plans on building an “apartment” over the dock this winter.
They were delightful people and time flew by. They wanted to take us to a little restaurant on a neighboring island for lunch. Saturdays were fried chicken special days, so off we went.
It took forever to be served. The owner and his wife were very gracious but we were a little early for the lunch rush. I think they had to go out and round up the chickens, kill and pluck them before cooking. At any rate, the chicken was good and we were all satisfied.
While we were there other groups of people began to arrive, all by boat. As would be expected, they were all retired ex-pats. There are almost no young Americans in the islands.
As we ate and chatted with the other guests, the weather worsened. The ominous looking sky to the northwest was black. Soon we could see lightning and hear thunder. Our captain was adamant that we head back immediately. He had the right idea, but was a little late.
The house is still under construction and the owners leave a list of items they want done during their absence. George is a marvelous craftsman and has done beautiful work on the house.
With all the exotic woods available here, he has done an outstanding job finishing rooms, installing the staircase, etc.
George gave us a brief tour of the island. I doubt that there is more than an acre of land and at extremely high tides, it’s under water. Everything is built on stilts to keep it dry. The house is actually built on stilts over the water. Only the front porch is on the island.
George and Jan are building their own home east of the Frenchies’ house. So far, they have a dock for their boat (home) and workshop built. George plans on building an “apartment” over the dock this winter.
They were delightful people and time flew by. They wanted to take us to a little restaurant on a neighboring island for lunch. Saturdays were fried chicken special days, so off we went.
It took forever to be served. The owner and his wife were very gracious but we were a little early for the lunch rush. I think they had to go out and round up the chickens, kill and pluck them before cooking. At any rate, the chicken was good and we were all satisfied.
While we were there other groups of people began to arrive, all by boat. As would be expected, they were all retired ex-pats. There are almost no young Americans in the islands.
As we ate and chatted with the other guests, the weather worsened. The ominous looking sky to the northwest was black. Soon we could see lightning and hear thunder. Our captain was adamant that we head back immediately. He had the right idea, but was a little late.
Before the Storm
We climbed into the boat and took off. He headed for the fastest passage out of the bay and into open water.
As we cleared the islands, the wind began to howl. What started as a light rain quickly became a tropical downpour.
The waves built up to about ten feet high. The little panga is a seaworthy boat. She rode up over the waves and surfed down into the troughs.
The boat had a Bimini top, but the rain came in at a horizontal angle, propelled by the wind, and we were immediately drenched. With the wind chill and wetness, we were soon miserable.
The captain stood by the helm, keeping the little boat on a safe course while making progress towards home. The boat began filling with water.
Our intrepid captain began bailing with one hand while the other hand was on the tiller. I offered to bail, but he waved me off. At a time like this, we were literally all in the same boat.
The storm intensified and the captain looked for refuge. We were on a lee shore. There was no place to hide.
He pulled in close to shore where the wind was somewhat lighter and slowed down. We cruised up and down the shoreline for about an hour, waiting for the storm to abate.
Finally he headed back out to sea. I couldn’t tell any difference in the strength of the wind or height of the waves, but apparently he felt it was safe to go on.
We had some of the largest waves as we crossed the open sound between the islands and Bocas. When we were in the trough between waves, they towered over us. We discussed making a landfall at Bocas town and taking a taxi back to the house, but the skipper was insistent that we could make it back to Starfish Beach.
After what seemed an eternity, we finally pulled onto the beach and jumped out of the boat. It was not the worse storm I’ve ever been in, but it was the smallest boat I’ve ever been in a storm in. The captain was a superb seaman. He kept the boat safe and got us home unharmed. It could have turned out differently.
I have to give credit to Wes, Joyce and Dawn. No one showed signs of fear or panic. It may be that they didn’t understand the dire circumstance in which we found ourselves, but they were troopers. Not a complaint was heard.
As we cleared the islands, the wind began to howl. What started as a light rain quickly became a tropical downpour.
The waves built up to about ten feet high. The little panga is a seaworthy boat. She rode up over the waves and surfed down into the troughs.
The boat had a Bimini top, but the rain came in at a horizontal angle, propelled by the wind, and we were immediately drenched. With the wind chill and wetness, we were soon miserable.
The captain stood by the helm, keeping the little boat on a safe course while making progress towards home. The boat began filling with water.
Our intrepid captain began bailing with one hand while the other hand was on the tiller. I offered to bail, but he waved me off. At a time like this, we were literally all in the same boat.
The storm intensified and the captain looked for refuge. We were on a lee shore. There was no place to hide.
He pulled in close to shore where the wind was somewhat lighter and slowed down. We cruised up and down the shoreline for about an hour, waiting for the storm to abate.
Finally he headed back out to sea. I couldn’t tell any difference in the strength of the wind or height of the waves, but apparently he felt it was safe to go on.
We had some of the largest waves as we crossed the open sound between the islands and Bocas. When we were in the trough between waves, they towered over us. We discussed making a landfall at Bocas town and taking a taxi back to the house, but the skipper was insistent that we could make it back to Starfish Beach.
After what seemed an eternity, we finally pulled onto the beach and jumped out of the boat. It was not the worse storm I’ve ever been in, but it was the smallest boat I’ve ever been in a storm in. The captain was a superb seaman. He kept the boat safe and got us home unharmed. It could have turned out differently.
I have to give credit to Wes, Joyce and Dawn. No one showed signs of fear or panic. It may be that they didn’t understand the dire circumstance in which we found ourselves, but they were troopers. Not a complaint was heard.
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