Tortuguero and the Terrible Turtle Tour

Tortuguero was my last real destination on my travels in Central America, and I really liked the town. I had my own private room and bathroom (!) at a small hotel recommended by a friend that sat right on the beach. There aren't hostels here, so it was more expensive ($20) since I was on my own. I spent the afternoon wandering the town and along the water and watched a spectacular sunset. That night I went on a turtle tour at 10pm to spot sea turtles laying their eggs on the beach. I'm not entirely sure what I expected, but whatever it was, it wasn't this. Obviously I knew it was dark at night, but I had envisioned spotting the turtles from a respectful distance, watching them silently, and feeling a sense of awe at the magnitude of their task. The females swim hundreds of miles to return (usually) to the area where they were born in order to lay eggs 1-4 times a year. They haul themselves out of the surf, clamber up the beach, dig a giant pit of a nest, lay hundreds of eggs over an hour or more, cover the eggs, pat the sand, camouflage (sort of) their nesting site, and then drag themselves back into the water. These creatures, so graceful in the sea, are cumbersome giants on land and it is a miracle they are able to successfully reproduce at all!

Knowing all of this I was excited to witness "the process" as our guide, Robert, called it. But instead of an awe inspiring experience, he viewed it as his means for his existence and seemed to take only a cursory interest in the animals or the quality of our experience. There were 7 of us in his group, and he literally ran us up and down the path along the beach according to the information he had from the professional spotters about where the turtles were. At first I thought he was worried we wouldn't get to see a turtle, but then I realized he wanted to show us the minimum promised as quickly as possible so he could get home.

On paper it was a satisfactory trip for him. We saw a turtle covering her nest, another one returning to the water (followed at a minimal distance by about 20 people), and saw a final mothering laboring through the laying of her eggs. When he moved her back flipper so we could have a better view it almost made me sick with anger. Instead of amazing it all felt so intrusive, so unnecessary, so voyeuristic.

While the tourism of watching turtles at night is fairly well regulated (you must go with a guide, paths are used in the woods behind the beach so you are doing minimal walking on their actual nesting sites, no regular lights or camera flashes are allowed, only faint red lights from the guides) I asked our guide about beach use during the day time and he said it is open to everyone for recreational use. There is nothing that marks known nest areas, there are no signs that there are eggs shallowly buried in the sand, and there is nothing to prevent people from walking on and digging at the nesting areas. For all their talk of conservation, this is one endangered species that needs a lot more protection, even from many of the people and organizations "protecting" it.