Estero Banderitas

See the current picture in the header? That’s my hand on the sea turtle. Let me say it again: THAT IS MY HAND ON THE SEA TURTLE. How unbelievably, incredibly cool is that? Below is the original picture. The one in the orange shirt is my new friend Emma. The one in the black jacket is my Coastal Ecology professor Gustavo. Click to see a bigger version.

Our research involves netting and tagging and monitoring sea turtles once every two weeks. This week we boated 45 minutes north along the bahía to a little estuary called Estero Banderitas. Below is the view from our tents.

We camped for three days. Peed behind cacti. Saw a tarantula. And we spent each night out in the estuary in little boats called pangas, hauling 120 feet of wet, heavy net once every hour. There’s something about lying frozen and wet and sore in a creaky, little panga at three-o-clock in the morning, listening to coyotes howling on shore, that makes your skin sing. It was wonderful. And that’s not even considering the sea turtles and the shooting stars. We saw a lot of stars. And we hauled a lot of turtles.

The ones we caught this week are Chelonia mydas, or Pacific Green Sea Turtles. They’re beautiful and heavy and have leathery skin around the neck and these Deep Dark Intense Brown Eyes, and when they’re pissed at you, they make these sighing noises. We collected them during the night, and then during the day we measured them and tagged them.

And then—AND THEN—we got to release them. Which means CARRYING THEM INTO THE OCEAN. When you think sea turtle, you usually think “Slow, lazy, quiet.” Well, our turtles averaged at about 180 pounds each, and in the words of Gustavo: “They are strong, they are mean, and with their flippers they will slap you.” I carried a heavy, kicking, hissing, beautiful turtle away from the shore and once it hit the water, I held onto its shell and it pulled me for awhile. They move like angry kites, all wheeling flippers and speed. I held on until I ran out of breath. I still have bruises on my legs and stomach. It was wonderful.

I miss you all. Big turtley hugs from San Carlos. Love.

P.S. Sorry about the sparseness of pictures. My camera cord is missing, and I won’t be able to upload until I find more. The pictures here are from my groupmate Katey’s camera.

P.P.S. I’m going to try to post at least once every two weeks. Look for it.

Cacti and Sand and Tortillas

 So I’m here! Baja California Sur is hot and sticky and sandy and there are stray dogs all over and the roads are bumpy and right now I’m looking at the ocean, which is the exact same blue as the sky. If there weren’t any  islands on the horizon I wouldn’t be able to tell where the water ends.

Getting here  involved two flights and a four-hour drive over bumpy dirt roads. The tire on the van blew out. I got to see a tumbleweed. Actually a lot of tumbleweeds.Have you ever seen a tumbleweed rolling across the desert? Have you ever picked one up and tossed it in the air? I was practically giddy.

I also got really excited when I saw my first cactus. And then the second. And then the third. Eventually the novelty wore off, and then I saw a bird on a cactus and I got really excited all over again. Some of these cacti are over 400 years old. The look like slouching  giants.

The people in my program are lovely. The faculty are wonderful. We eat tortillas and rice with every meal. My first night sleeping in a cabana was… interesting. (Remember how I’m a clean-freak? Living under a palm-frond roof with a family of crickits is going to be an exercise in patience.)

I feel little homesickness pangs every once in a while. This still feels like a bizarre dream. It will get easier as we go.
As soon as I can beg a USB cord out of one of my program-mates, pictures will appear. Te lo prometo.

I miss you all and love you so much.