Gisele Nelson - Hawaii Wildlife Fund
Week 4

            This last week in Hawaii flew by before I even knew that it was time for another report. So here I am, ready to fill you in on my last full week on the Big Island, and with quite a substantial story, if I may say so myself.

            When I was in the planning process of this trip, people would ask me what I was doing for the summer. Excited by the common question, I would simply respond, “I’m studying turtles and vegetation in Hawaii for a month.” People would respond with wow’s, ooh’s and aah’s, especially at the mention of turtles. “I wish I was doing that!” was a common reaction. Thinking back about when I arrived here in Hawaii, I was so excited about what I had ahead of me. With the end of my trip now looming, I have certainly been nowhere near disappointed. I couldn’t have asked for a better experience. Things are, though, never fully what you expect. What I found different than expected was the amount and kind of turtle work I got to do. I came to realize that tracking an endangered species is a lengthy journey. We spent a significantly greater amount of time talking about turtles than actually seeing them. Learning about the ancient animals definitely stimulates the anticipation to actually see one too. I wanted what Carl Safina, author of Voyage of the Turtle, was talking about in his stories about turtles around the world. I wanted to feel the movement that he explains when your on a boat all day looking for Leatherbacks and all the sudden one comes next to the boat and rises to the surface.

            I’ve gotten to spend a sizeable amount of time watching Green Sea Turtles bask in the sun on the beach and on one occasion I got to swim with them on the lava reef and watch them forage at the food below. I’m so glad to have reached this kind of intimacy with nature, but where were the Hawksbill Turtles? Where were those turtles that we’ve been talking about since before I even left Colorado? Well, when looking for this species, there’s an easy answer to their scarcity. They’re endangered. There’s not that much known about them either, let alone having an easy time finding them. A rare species is hard to find and even harder to study in the field. What we know about Hawksbill Turtles is far less than what someone may expect. In terms of underwater research in general, more is known about the surface of the moon than the ocean floor. Ironic, since one is so much closer to us.

            This week, though, Shannon, a Grad student from UH Hilo, and I got to meet the ancient lady friend. We were able to set her up with a new piece of equipment that would help provide new information about her kind. We were able to get that much closer to research about Hawksbill Sea Turtles and that much closer to helping their endangered kind.

            On Tuesday night we left Punalu’u beach for the remote, Kamehame, but this time with more than the normal amount of gear. Shannon and I had high hopes of getting a transmitter on a Hawksbill and we weren’t leaving the beach until we did. Hiking along the coast three miles over lava rock, we were equipped with clumsy hiking back packs, a turtle box broken down to four pieces of plywood suspended on a poll, and a moderately sized bright red tool box. We were off to a late start because we had to wait for the box to get in from Maui. There was a high chance that turtle #20 was coming up that night, so we couldn’t wait. The punishment for leaving late, though, was hiking in the dark. We had small white corals along the trail and the sound of the ocean to guide us. Unfortunately, it was too dark to see the distant corals and there was only one of us that could hear the ocean. Shannon is deaf.  Our arms and legs were shaking from the weight of the box and we kept plunging into the lava rocks with our knees. Even with the sun down, we were hotter than ever. Exasperated, with bruised and bleeding knees and ankles, we had lost all grace. Besides being physically challenged, it was a mental test as well. So many times, I just wanted to sit on the rocks and wait until morning, but I kept two things in mind, 1) we had a turtle to get to and 2) you can’t show a low spirit when you’re one of two people. If one person gives up, than the whole group is down.

            When Shannon and I would stop to take a break, which had to be often, I would wave my headlight out into the darkness. Maybe someone would see it, or at least be able to recall seeing it. When our trail became grassier, I gained some hope. This part became familiar. Shannon and I remembered the grass coming up before you’re supposed to turn into the road that led you to the campsite. But, the grass kept going and we didn’t see a road. Darkness, weight, and weary muscles seemed to be taking over and I bitterly said to myself, we better find a turtle.

            Our scenery changed and there was a light near, coming out of the grass. I yelled. It yelled back. We were so happy to find someone from camp, rather she found us. We could walk the finishing steps of our hike with guidance. Our arms and legs picked up with a new energy. She said they saw the light and came out twice to try and find us. The first time we were much further away, but her second check, an hour and a half later, we were there. We made it! All of my concerns changed from personal to the turtles. We asked her if we had missed any action on the beach. “Just greens,” she said. Knowing there was still a chance to find our nester in the night fired us up. We prepared our gear at camp and followed them out to the beach. Two hours later, we fell asleep in our lawn chairs on the dark beach. We woke up before the next beach check, and the others we were with said we didn’t miss anything. Two a.m. rolled around and #20 never came up. We packed up the transmitter gear and found our way to the sleeping bags.

            The sun rolled over the tent and into our eyes. We ignored her glare and continued to sleep. There was catching up to do. We spent the day relaxing, I read more from Carl Safina, and we reviewed again how to attach the transmitter. Reading about them got me anxious. We wanted tonight to be the night and if it was, in fact, the night, we could get an easy ride out of the camp sight and wouldn’t have to carry the gear. But we needed the strong mother to come up.

            We felt prepared for the night. We sent prayers to the turtle gods. We started on the beach at seven and watched the sun set. Calming to watch, yet energizing as the last rays filtered through us. Tonight I would check every half hour just to be certain we didn’t miss her. Six beach check later, at 10 o’clock, I found her next to a rock underneath the native beach plant called Naupaka. She slowly turned to me while I was holding my red light. I ran back to tell the others that she was here. We quickly prepared our gear and hurried out. I was in that Carl Safina moment as I ducked in the damp sand and watched her under the moonlight. We found an ancient animal that is on her way to becoming extinct, so rare and beautiful. We lay in the sand near the shore and watched her try and find a place to nest. She walked one direction and then the other way. Lady Hawksbill found a place of satisfaction back under the dense Naupaka. She dug her body pit, so she could be positioned properly to dig the nest and lay. I used alphabetic sign language with Shannon, body pit. We went through this digging process three times. I admit, by midnight, I fell asleep in the wet sand with the tide inching toward my toes. When I woke up she was digging in yet another location. You go along with it, because she needs it. I try to keep up the excitement while waiting because I want the energy to properly get the transmitter on this, roughly, 250 pound, big mama. A little after 2 a.m., she began laying her eggs. Turtles go into some kind of trance while they lay, it’s almost like they fall into a momentary deep sleep, but it allowed us to study her in peace.  We watched her drop her eggs into her hole. We sent a blessing that enough of her young would make it to the age she is and produce more generations to come. At a surprising flop of her flipper, we found out that she was awake. She began covering her nest and Shannon and I prepared the box that would protect her while we gave her a new ornament. Unaware, she begins throwing unmarked eggs that must have been laid next to her own nest. One of us tends to her, and the others scatter around looking for the eggs we may have lost. We run around carefully being careful not to step on them. We got the box over her and finished burying her nest and the other nest with the eggs that were saved. Sadly, we lost about a dozen eggs.

            I mixed the Elastimer glue and catalyst while Shannon prepared her carapace and got a biopsy punch, a small skin sample. We got the transmitter on and then had to work on securing it. After the turtle would take deep breaths, she would try to escape the box. You could tell she was tired, especially after false nesting three times. It had already been a long enough night for her. The others held her down while I prepared the resin and fiberglass cloths. It was hard to keep her flippers in the box when she was trying to lift them out. Constantly, our fingers were getting smashed between the wood and her strong shell. The materials were applied while she made it difficult by throwing sand up into our faces and into the wet resin on her back. We tried to calm her down by stroking her fins and talking to her. It seemed to be working. At 5 a.m., said and done, we let her go. We watched her crawl back to the sea as the sun rose.

            The transmitter will give us information on where she’s going and how deep she’s diving. As part of Shannon’s study, she hopes to collect food samples at these depths and compare the chemical makeup of them with the chemical nutrients of the turtle’s biopsy punch. We want to know what things around them are important to protect and we’re looking for more information on this endangered animal because knowing about them provides a path to protecting them. I wish I could continue to help at this project, but I’m afraid my internship is at an end. Ahead of me lies the University of Vermont and Environmental Studies. I leave the Pacific and get closer to the Loggerheads, Leatherbacks, and Kemp Ridleys of the Atlantic. Vermont may not have turtles for me, but I will carry on the knowledge and interest in them forever and always keep those endangered in mind.