Sea Turtles All the Way Across
Learnings from the ectotherms
The sight of hundreds of sea turtles bobbing around the Pacific is still bobbing around my head.
In March, we crossed the Gulf of Tehuantepec, a notoriously dangerous passage in Southern Mexico with frequent winds exceeding 50 mph. We scoured guidebooks, sailing forums, and weather models for the best time to cross. Big winds are preceded by a high-pressure system over the four corners of the US and a window for safe passage usually opens every week or two.
Our usual prep to depart was complicated by engine issues and we stayed at the edge of the gulf waiting to cross for several weeks in order to time it right.
Three months prior and 2500 miles north in an anchorage called Muertos, we went ashore to see a turtle rescue worker release hatchlings. I was delighted that tending these turtles could be someone's job. He warned that the turtles need to get to the sea without assistance or risk incorrectly imprinting the location of this matrilineal nesting site. We stood on the beach with newly minted friends and swapped highlights from the sail down the Baja peninsula. In sad congruence with the name of the bay, the turtles were motionless. I wondered if nature documentaries might speed things along to captivate 21st-century attention spans. The sun dipped below the horizon and with a shuffling of feet, we considered how long to wait before moving on from this batch of sweet slowpokes. We dawdled on, someone citing that one in a thousand makes it to adulthood. These ones seemed to be in the 999.
When I was five or so, we visited my grandparents in Florida and went to the beach in the middle of the night to see turtles coming ashore to lay eggs. I recall whispering and giggling with cousins, imaging the journey these gals had taken to the beach. Later Finding Nemo would shed some light on these current-riding nomads.
The Tehuantepec crossing was eight days and seven nights from La Cruceita to Isla Tigre. Shortly after raising the sails, we were greeted by floating domes and the occasional lazy look from a terrapin. By the third day, we estimated at least one hundred sightings. By the fourth, we seemed surrounded. This reminded me of All We Can Save: Truth, Courage, and Solutions for the Climate Crisis, an anthology of poems, essays, and illustrations that centers emotions alongside the changing climate. I felt a sort of awe that hundreds of these turtles were doing OK, way out here.
The title of the anthology is inspired by this poem by Adrienne Rich:
“My heart is moved by all I cannot save / So much has been destroyed / I have to cast my lot with those who age after age, perversely / with no extraordinary power, reconstitute the world.”
In an age of unprecedented habitat loss, rising temperatures, and fossil fuel dependence, these turtles have not been destroyed.
I wondered what species was bobbing around in the Gulf. Wildcoast.org provided a localized overview of species in need of protection and I surmised they were Olive Ridley turtles. This led me to another article about the sea turtle slaughterhouse located in the present-day hipster hideaway of Mazunte. Before the government stepped in, 30,000 turtles were killed there each year. 30,000. The beaches ran red with blood. “Mazunte” is derived from a Nahuatl phrase, “maxotetia” which means “please deposit eggs here". The eggs were believed to be an aphrodisiac, so nests were also pilfered.
The Mexican government banned harvesting turtle eggs in 1977 and put in further restrictions and enforcement in 1990. The latter legislation included assistance for families whose livelihoods depended on the turtle business, which included training on eco-tourism and support in setting up guesthouses. Although we didn't visit Mazunte, some sleuthing and assumptions indicate that living in harmony with the natural resources rather than extracting and exporting has provided a better life for locals and visitors, as well as the turtles themselves. The beaches have cleared.
We looked ahead to this particular crossing with cautious optimism. Rationally we knew that watching the forecast and biding our time would pay off, but we also knew there is no such thing as a sure bet at sea. The marina on the north side of the Gulf had a decidedly waiting-at-the-edge-of-the-diving-board feel as sailors compared plans.
Seeing the turtles so at peace in this area we had approached with rational trepidation was something. I wondered where they went when the winds turned up. How it felt to be in the towering waves. Most seemed to be supremely relaxed, and many lent their backs as a resting pad for sea birds. We squishy humans wouldn’t survive long out there without a vessel, while these guys seemed almost whimsical.
Turtles and other reptiles are ectotherms, meaning they rely on external sources (air, water) to regulate their heat. They can swing from 77-81 degrees Fahrenheit without cause to go to the hospital for dangerous fevers. They require less fuel by melding with the environment around them being flexible by default.
A researcher at Cornell studied the Olive Ridleys in 2010, with an eye on their migration patterns. The varying weather of El Ninos and La Ninas, as well as these high winds in the Gulf and elsewhere have caused them to evolve with migratory flexibility. Still finding their way back to nesting sites despite being offset by the conditions. This suggests they will be more resilient to climate change.
This week a headline caught my eye proclaiming that most sea turtles in Florida are now born female. The temperature of the egg determines the sex and rising air and ocean temps have tipped their usual ratios. Scientists aren’t sure if this is a helpful survival shift or detrimental to the survival of the turtles.
In the Indian Ocean, Olive Ridleys and Loggerheads are acting as climate scientists. They record temperature, depth, and salinity at the surface and through the bottom of their range ~200 meters, helping scientists predict tropical cyclones. Here in the North Atlantic, NOAA flies weather drones to feed their hurricane predictions and other projects, and while the turtle solution was born from the necessary creativity of a small budget.
All these turtles were rolling around my head when Joe Manchin put the nail in the coffin of the Build Back Better plan a few weeks ago. In an upsettingly predictable move, this senator who accepts the most from fossil fuel lobbyists decided not to tip the scales toward effective climate-stabilizing regulation. He decided not to use his extraordinary bargaining power to ask for anything for the citizens of West Virginia, he simply stalled and said no. This public servant is worth $12 million and owns thirteen houses.
Then something pretty extraordinary happened. Congressional staffers made an unprecedented move by rallying and refusing to leave Chuck Schumer’s office until he reopened negotiations with Manchin. They wrote a letter to Biden to do the same. These young folks who are not supposed to have a personal agenda asked some of the most powerful people in the world to do their jobs. They were arrested and let off later that day. And their urgency to get Congress to move on climate before the August recess worked. We have the Inflation Reduction Act, the largest US climate action, and $370 billion for the clean energy transition. This post from Emily Kirsch distills the 750-page doc into a helpful primer.
To borrow from Adrienne Rich, I want to cast my lot with the turtles and the congressional staffers.
The Can Do List: weekly suggestions to tip toward resilience.
Search your zip code on this new map to see the job and health benefits of shifting to renewable energy.
Get curious about how something in your dwelling works - toilet, electricity, sink, etc. Spend a few minutes checking out the components, and watch a short how-it-works video.
Read Psalm for the Wild Built, a novella by Becky Chambers, to explore thoughts on AI, nature, and purpose. I’m enjoying the recently released sequel, Prayer for the Crown Shy.
Reserve an hour or two to recreate a favorite food at home, such as granola, sauerkraut, yogurt, or salad dressing.