DOMINGO

Todos Santos, Mexico (Baja, California Sur) - I am up early this a.m., it is light but the sun isn’t up yet. Nearby in the neighborhood, someone has a chicken coop, too much cackling not to be and I can hear big surf pounding again. Some of that is just the way sound funnels up from the beach but it’s big. It sounds a lot like wind gusting when you are inside but I’m out on the balcony and not a breath of air is moving. It is cold, for here; down in the 50’s at the moment. But then I’m used to the Great Lakes and weather simply is what it is.

One volunteer is a Biologist from Oakland, CA, his name is Paris. His status is a pay grade or two above ours. He can make decisions about the operation, dig or handle eggs, without consulting boss lady. Starting today, we are the only volunteers here other than him. More are arriving tomorrow or Tuesday but it’s all up to us until they do. Paris doesn’t seem to have a set time to be anywhere in particular but always present when transplanting nests or turtles are rising. So we get both the early and the mid day shifts, don’t have a long, lazy morning to squander.  Domingo, Sunday; tourism is a 7 day/week thing but banks and schools are closed. I’m out of pesos. If I need to pay for anything today I’ll have to use a credit card, at the ATM or with the vendedor. 

After 3 days of waiting for turtles to rise, yesterday was coming out day. Three babies from two different nests were at the top early so we waited all day for their mates to come up. In the wild it can take several days for all the hatchlings to make it up and out. At 4:00, Paris opened one nest and found, carefully, gently removing sand, lifting 74 tiny, ascending reptiles from the column. It was determined the other nest wasn’t ready to be liberated and will be the business for today. Our job was explaining to folks who came down for the release, what he was doing and why. The surf was perfect, none of them got pushed back up the beach face and they were on their way without any complications. It is kind of cathartic to see such a small creature, working so hard to fulfill its destiny, and the run-out from a wave pushes foam up the sand, a thin swash of water follows that reaches out like a big hand. It glides over one or more little pilgrims, they submerge under the retreating wave and in the blink of my eye, they have disappeared, minuscule links in life’s dance. Humans like to believe we are more blessed and thus, more important but I don't think so. Life is life, metabolism, replication, synthesis and response to stimulus; I am no more, no less than a glorified turtle.  We are hoping the nest we left alone has finished cooking and yields as many babies as yesterday.