Turtle Patrol on t
Florida Pan hand
By Dana Rebmann
V
acations, by definition, are
not typically meant to
involve wake-up calls and
alarm clocks. But when the
jarring buzz knocked me out
of a sound sleep just after 5am, I
hopped out of bed with little
hesitation. The sun was still hours
from being up, but it was busy along
the beaches of lesser-known Gulf
Coast County, Florida. The St. Joseph
Peninsula Turtle Patrol was getting
ready to hit the sand.
turtles crawl ashore and across the
beach toward the dunes to lay their
eggs. Under the cover of darkness,
female sea turtles dig their nest, lay
100-plus ping pong-sized eggs and
camouflage their speedy work before
disappearing into the Gulf of Mexico.
The combination of dark sand dunes
with reflection of the moon and
stars off the water guide their
night’s work. Mother Nature has a
big say in what happens next; to
coyotes and sand crabs, turtle eggs
Time is of the essence on these early
mornings. Whether it’s spotting a
freshly dug nest or checking on one
about to hatch, volunteers’ best
chance of catching sight of any clues
left in the sand comes with day’s
first light. Changing tides, moving
rain storms and inevitable footprints
quickly cover turtle tracks. Seven
days a week, vo lunteers walk miles
of sand searching for answers.
Every summer, loggerhead sea
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