Turtle Town

April 10, 2023

This month I joined the many of thousands of tourists (average daily census for 2023 thus far- 67,152) and visited the island of Maui in Hawaii. 

Visiting my uncle along with a few friends, turtles naturally became a topic of conversation. The shore right out front of a friends Airbnb had the same group of resting turtles come in daily at dusk. Together, we witnessed the turtles wade in from the ocean, slowly and with effort, they pulled themselves onto the sandy shoreline. Easily mistaken for rocks, the largest of which rested at the front of the group. The smaller turtles arranged further back, closer to the shore. Perhaps an arrangement similar to that of the wolves, who travel in their packs with the elders at the front, the young strong males in the back. The elders leading the way, the young males keeping an eye out on the pack. 

On the second day of my visit I drove to a busy beach to go for a swim, an incredibly developed shoreline with hotels and hovering construction cranes, squeezing in evermore development.  Sitting on the shore I saw a group of humans congregate in the water, a turtle in their midst, its dark shadow hovering in the transparent turquoise waters. People were awestruck and surrounded the turtle, I saw a child grab onto the shadows back to catch a ride- like a tick jumping onto an animal from a blade of grass. Opportunists.  A man started yelling and the group backed off. Mere seconds later another group surrounded the adult turtle, with wide gaping smiles they followed and harassed it, confidently checking off a tick box on their holiday wish list. 

Another experience I had with turtles occurred at a popular surfing beach in a small town called Paia. An expansive white sand shoreline with one small section, about 20 meters in length, roped off for resting green sea turtles. A thin and worn red rope along with a weathered sign almost hidden from view outlined not to approach the turtles. People ignored the signage, or simply missed the signage, and scuffled like crabs beneath the rope. Selfies with the turtles. Some walked across the section to enter the waters with their surfboards as the turtles shuffled while others returned back to the waters out of fear. Inspired by the man on the beach I yelled out, “Get away from the turtles, didn’t you see the rope?” I forgot to say please. I forgot about tone of voice. I got some eye rolls and raised eyebrows, but the people exited the area. Why wasn’t there someone monitoring the beach?

My uncle, who I was staying with, kindly planned an early morning sea kayaking tour for me, where the destination was a reef where we could snorkel. Learning afterwards that the reef we visited was a place referred to as Turtle Town. A luring name for some folk I suppose. Just the tour guide and three others. But the beach which we launched from was filled with dozens of other tourists partaking in the same experience with other tour guides. A line up to enter the waters. 

Once we arrived at the reef I bravely entered the waters- having a fear of sharks since I remember, possibly due to a Universal Studios experience when I was 3, a Jaws exhibit I do not remember. King Kong is where my memory stopped, and my 40 degree fever began. I have immense respect for sharks, but tropical waters where I can’t see behind or beneath me fills my body with a swelling of anxiety. The childhood nightmares still engrained within my memory. I breathed through the fear and as a singular, vulnerable unit, made my way from the anchored kayaks to the reef. Heartbeat and breath faster than normal. As I made my way over the reef I noticed instantly that it did not look healthy. A few colourful fish along with an abundance of urchins. No turtles. After spending a few minutes in the water I returned to my kayak and opted out of getting my underwater photo taken by the guide. I spent half an hour just lying on my back- seasick and ready to leave. The guide offered me water, a plastic bottle. I lied and said I wasn’t thirsty. He then went on to mention that this was the first time he’s been to Turtle Town where the turtles were not around. So strange, he kept repeating. Perhaps there is a predator nearby? I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows. Unhealthy waters. Fucking tourists. I’m a fucking tourist. I mentioned to the guide that the reef looked dead, and he replied with, it’s all the sunscreen. Kills the reefs.

On route back we passed another snorkelling and diving area. A massive boat,  hundreds of people. Snorkels in every direction. I didn’t have my camera but wished I could have documented the sight. Turtle Town was indeed being overrun with humans. Too many humans. On the surface happy shiny experiences, like the gel nails I had done before I left on the trip. Lime green, high gloss. But with time, as I peel away at the hard gel surface, my nails beneath damaged and torn. Beneath the surface, destruction and acrylic waste. Chips of green plastic floating in my outdoor tub, finding their way to the grass in my yard. How many micro plastics are in this world due to fake nails? Nail salons, like snorkelling with turtles, have affects on the Planet. I have to tell myself to stop thinking. Enjoy the beauty and not think into things so hard. To enjoy in todays indulgences. This privileged vacation. Ola! Bask in the sun! Eat fresh fruit! Swim with sea turtles! And sip out of god damn coconuts. Could my mind keep it simple? Perhaps 100 years ago it could. I can’t help but think, what will it be like 100 years for now? 

That night I went home and researched green turtles. Along with major heartache and feelings of despair, I learned facts. My thoughts diverted to stories I heard during Covid, hearing about the shoreline species that began to thrive. Whose shorelines are these? Who do they rightfully belong to? Who depend upon them for their survival? We are a greedy species, there’s no doubt about that. Taking up space on the ancient turtles nesting grounds to sun bathe and swim. Fucking tourists. 

Green sea turtles have existed and survived on the Planet for over 110 million years. They are one of the most ancient species that exist on our planet today. They have witnessed dinosaurs, continental glaciations and recently, in what must seem but a mere blimp of time to the relation of their time scale, an explosive growth of human activity. They are the only herbivore sea turtle. They feed off of sea grasses and algae, making the gardens of greens more productive. This in turn creates habitat for other sea life. Adults travel hundreds to thousands of kilometres to migrate from their coastal foraging areas to their nesting sites, returning every 2-4 years to reproduce on the same shores that they hatched on. Magic memory. 

Humans.

In the last half a century populations of green sea turtles are estimated to have declined by 90%. Loss of nesting beach sites being one of the primary reasons, along with being caught in fishing gear. Unlike other turtles, green sea turtles can not retract their fins and heads into their shells- making them more vulnerable. The kayaking guide shared that the estimated total population is around 200,000. They are endangered. 

The day before I left to head home, a group of friends and I went to Makena Beach, also known as Big Beach. My friend Dustin brought snorkel gear. Together with another friend John, we entered the waters at the far north end of the beach at a dark black rocky cliff wall. I got in, looked into the water, and got out. The desire to experience the underwater world has always lured me close to the ocean, my dreams filled with underwater adventures. Giant manta rays and whale sharks. Red glowing gems in caves at the oceans bottom. “Ola! Get in! There’s a turtle!” Dustin yelled from the waters as I sat on the shore. One more try. 

Swimming with a green sea turtle while knowing the facts made for a delicate experience. I felt obliged to be still and remain a far distance away. I relaxed in the water, it was effortless to stay afloat in the salty warm waters. I calmed my breathing and watched the turtle as it swam beneath the ocean’s thin line that divides water from air. I watched as it pushed itself off of the rocky cliff walls with its strong flippers, reminding me of Olympic swimmers and how they lunge off the pools wall to gain momentum for their next lap. In this way, the turtle lunged in my direction and swam right beside me. We moved together forwards and backwards with the breathing rhythm of the ocean. I backed away and lifted my head out of the water. At the same moment the turtle lifted its head out of the water. We faced one another. Back beneath the waters I got one last look- watched the air bubbles as they made their way around the turtles elegant body. Reverence, a deep reverence for its ability to survive so many millions of years. Grateful for the experience but also in a restrained kind of way. I think of all the species that have not and will not survive our insatiable need to control and dominate nature. The diversity that is being lost. I think of the green sea turtle and hope that all our efforts can create some sort of change. There are amazing people and countless organizations who are working tirelessly to try and change the narrative. From one of destruction and greed, to the flip side of one of care, reciprocity and restoration. Perhaps meaningful work could be incorporated into our leisure? Perhaps meaningful work is what we are truly looking for, there upon the warm sandy beaches we travel to. Trying to find some sort of meaning. Trying to find a greater purpose. Perhaps, now’s a better time than ever to get to our gardens.