Statistically, it’s the end of turtle nesting season. According to the lack of nests on the beach, it’s the end of turtle season. So when my carpenter came walking down the road with a big smile and a turtle under his arm, you could imagine how surprised I was to see a turtle out of the water and making it’s way down the road.
My first thought was, ‘This is some kind of terrible joke, please tell me that turtle is alive”. As he lifts the turtle up to chest level, laughing, to show me it still is. What the hell is he doing with a turtle coming from the opposite direction of the beach?! This is the part of my job that’s similar to waiting tables. Somebody does something you don’t like – and all you get to do is smile and do what they ask, without letting them know how you really feel.
Not jumping to conclusions can be good it turns out. As soon as I asked him why he had a turtle in his arms – he let me know he purchased it from fishermen on the other side of the cliff. You see, turtles end up as by catch in the nets. When this happens, it’s payday! They can get up to $20 for the meat of one turtle. Bonus if it’s a hawksbill, they can sell the shell for even more. Their beautiful shell has been used to make jewelry for years and is in high demand.
So now I feel like a kindergartner. My emotions are all over the place. First plummeting, next skyrocketing, and then crashing down again realizing we have to get this turtle back in the water!
My staff and I run down to the beach with this hawksbill turtle and set her down so she can get back in the water and take off. We watch her go, I take a few pictures, and now have a moment to think.
My first thoughts are – fantastic! The turtle conservation is working and the villagers are listening, they care about what I say and want to help. They’re telling people not to kill turtles, and they’re buying them with their own money (to be reimbursed of course, nonetheless..)! I have succeeded at something, baby steps have finally transformed into a giant step!
The next day comes, I am at the beach hanging out with the fishermen. One of them says to me, “I have a turtle.” The sinking stomach feeling is back.
“Where is the turtle?”
“It’s on my boat.”
The thing my mind had turned to has immediately come up. I am scared they now know that we will pay them money to set the turtle free, and that they will simply catch turtles to return to me. Creating a never-ending cycle of turtle drama. Then I calm down, remember that it’s damn near impossible to catch a turtle in the water unless it’s by-catch, and am thankful that they’re telling me before they try and sell it to market goers as meat.
I agree to buy the turtle off of him and he goes to his boat to get it. I expect to see another adolescent turtle being delivered but am instead surprised by a huge green turtle that spills over his boats edges. They have so roughly tied the turtle up that it’s got a few sores and I’m certain it’s legs will break. I am upset at what I see but cannot show my emotions. They’ve got him untied and his massive beak starts snapping trying to take off a digit. Now I am calmed by it’s valiant efforts to dismantle their hands.
We flip him around and send him into the sea. He dives immediately and the entire village laughs at me because they don’t understand why I want to set the turtle free.
This is the night I cry. I don’t cry from defeat – for I have not been defeated. I don’t cry because the entire village laughs at me to my face. I cry because the look in the eye of the dinosaur sized, harmless sea turtle wrapped in ropes around his neck and fins. I cry for all the defeated marine life that gets illegally poached daily. It’s a culmination of all the culture shock, lack of education, and sadness I’ve seen in the year that I’ve been here. Yes, I have it, my first breakdown.
A few days go by and I’m sitting eating breakfast. There are guests at camp and I’m gossiping with the local ladies in the kitchen. They suddenly inform me another turtle is on the way down the street.
This time it is a juvenile hawksbill turtle & it’s really freakin’ cute. The man is the same one that had the green sea turtle. He looks me in the eyes when he hands it to me and I don’t see mean, malicious fisherman, I see a man that knows that I care about this and that is why he has brought the turtle. The guests all check out the turtle and all it’s glory – for some of them it’s their first time – and we all go release it on the beach together.
We walk back up the cliff to camp and stand around chatting about Indonesia, conservation, and the impact we have. As we are talking, I watch the fisherman. He is looking at my cats and slowly reaches his towards one. He touches it and recoils his arm, looks at it again, and slowly reaches towards it to lightly pet it. He has never touched a cat before. Soon he picks it up is petting and playing with it.
Seeing this melts my heart a little and I remember that none of these people are malicious. They’re simply doing what they’ve grown up learning and seeing. All it takes is a little respect and a little education and we can make leaps and bounds. At the end of the day, you realize you can’t save the world, but you can sure make a difference. Even if it’s just for one turtle.