Wildlife Sense: My Time With Turtles and So Much More

If I could describe the feeling of utter ecstasy and excitement at seeing a baby turtle scramble down our handmade trench to the big blue sea, I could only liken it to what I imagine sending your child off to university feels like. And in my two weeks with Wildlife Sense’ Lixouri camp, I have avalanched from liking turtles to simply adoring them.

Sneaky peak of what's to come: lots of cute bubba turts!

I discovered Wildlife Sense a few years back, while on an early - for holiday standards - walk along a beach in Skala, Kefalonia (because my mum wanted to take pictures of the views). While stumbling over the weightless sand, we noticed people, adorned with clipboards and turquoise t-shirts, counting long snaking lines to the sea. When we ambled over, the group showed us the tracks –turtle tracks!- running intermittently down the beach; their role, as volunteers, was to check the nests and tracks and aid baby turtles that may have been weak or became disorientated during their hatching.
And there I was instantly sold: I signed up too.

Baby turtle tracks

Off to the sea

My cousin Emily (my travelling companion, from such tales as New York and 110 Above) and I landed in Kefalonia on 17th July, mildly agitated by the hour and half delay due to freak fog, tired from the travel, and filled with anticipation: we had made it. Here was to the next two weeks filled with turtles!

We were escorted and ferried by other Wildlife Sense members, Izi (half of our field assistant duo in Lixouri) and Annya, and led to where we would be spending our time for a fortnight, in a rented house containing six other volunteers just like us, and Harry our leader. As soon as our rucksacks touched our bunk beds, Izi had whipped out her laptop and began reeling through our welcome presentation: our delay had meant we had missed this, performed to the whole group - however we did not miss out on our souvlaki (dubbed, by me, as Wildlife Sense’s version of McDonald’s: just around the corner, cheap and our treat each week, as well as containing not only pitta but chips inside the pitta. Incredible). And this is where Izi casually dropped the “now we’ve thrown you two into the deep end a bit” remark. And, at nearly midnight, our ‘deep end’ would be waking up at 5am the next day - which was rapidly approaching - for our first Morning Survey. We were in bed as soon as she closed the door goodnight.

Morning Surveys and Hatchling Rescues were our typical shifts in saving turts; due to the time of year, nesting season was decreasing and the actual hatchlings were hatching in successive abundance. With rucksacks rammed like Mary Poppin’s hold-all, we would travel by bike or by foot to a beach location (containing more than one beach) and patrol the sands for mum or baby turtle tracks and disturbances to the nests too. Everything we saw and found would have to be meticulously scribed and photographed, from the time we entered the beach, to GPS points and sketches of the arches and curls that a mother turtle made in the sand, trying to find the perfect spot for her clutch of eggs. 

Me, on a Morning Survey

On our very first Morning Survey, our leader and Field Assistant Izi saw some particularly ridged tracks from a turtle and when we followed them up the sandy waves like a treasure map trail, we came across our first nest! On our hands and knees, we slowly scooped sand away from the suspected egg chamber then, hitting wet sand, we did the ‘drop test’: if a finger goes through the wet sand easily like a drop, there would be precious eggs underneath. Finding this drop point, Izi carefully excavated until the tops of white shells emerged: it felt like Easter, only these were real eggs and not chocolate (and much more exciting too). I remember I was so enthralled I could not help but squeal a little at the thought that baby turtles were just right there. (I tell you, these turtles really draw you in - I’m obsessed now.)

Our first nest! There are eggs in there!

And night-time Hatchling Rescue was just as thrilling: sleeping bags laid out on the beach, we would sleep right by a nest, together under the clear, white stars. Every hour, one of the pair would wake up and scan the nest, illuminating it up with red-light torches, to check for emerging turts. And, although it was exhausting and sometimes a bit cold (ignoring the part on the packing list about bringing a hoodie was the mistake here) to be able to talk late into the night, sleep on the sand and know you are helping out these little babies only meters away from you was amazing. Although I did not see any bubby turts on Hatchling Rescue, I did have the chance on the Inventories.

An Inventory, with Harry and Emily. Our second to last day and we got 6 baby turtles!

Sleeping next to a nest began on Day 45 (the amount of days after the eggs were laid) but nearing Day 60, worries about the survival rate and hatchling outcome became apparent. Lixouri’s camp leader, Harry (the most enthusiastic and excitable man I’ve ever seen, and all about turtles) decided to check on nest LP1, as there were mounting concerns that none of the babies had popped out yet. With rubber gloves and buckets (ready for survivors), we all watched intently as Harry brushed sand away from the nest’s centre, as Izi had done before on our Morning Survey but more solemnly. And that became apparent when he announced “dead within”, cradling a tiny baby turtle in the fingers, dead. And then another dead. And another. Soon, several rows of tiny, motionless turtles lay next to the nest. In that moment, I thought I could cry. The atmosphere had become stagnant with sadness but was suddenly pierced when Harry exclaimed “alive within!” A scrabbling baby turtle, wiggling his flippers like he was swimming through the sky, was placed in the bucket, where he subsequently tried to escape. He was a strong one, and I felt even more elated as we watched him gallivant (as fast as a baby turtle can) down our trench runway, ready to take off into the water. He swam perfectly; his little black head poking up for air eventually became fainter and fainter until we couldn’t see him any more. I felt like I had seen my child off into his new life.

My first ever baby turtle! (Or tittle as Emily believes they should be called)

In the end, I observed three Inventories, with one releasing forty turtles into the sea, all while an eclipse was mulling in the night sky. As Josh peeled away the top layer of sand, five tiny turtles were sticking their head and front flippers out of the sand like sunflowers, and all lit up by the peeling moon.

Baby turtles coming out of the nest

But it wasn’t just baby turts we aided, as we took the ferry to Argostoli on the first Friday, to perform health checks on the adult turtles in its harbour. Just strolling along the harbour, you could observe the gliding, green shapes of turtles, waiting for entrails to be thrown over the side of the little fishing boats bobbing atop the teal sea. However, we were soon not just admiring them from afar, but right under our fingertips: Harry, in his wetsuit, would spot a turtle and hold onto it (I know it wasn’t a fun piggy-back, but I was slightly jealous that the fantasy of riding on a turtle’s shell could not be mine) until it was safe for it to be lifted out of the water and onto the mats we had laid out on the side of the harbour. (Just a note: turtles can remain out of water for hours, and with multiple volunteers shading them from the sun, they were perfectly safe!) With a scribe’s pen at the ready, the health checks commenced: scanning for a tag, picking pesky hermits from the carapace (top of the shell), take multiple measurements. All the turtles we checked had been tagged before – which meant they all had names (Emily and I had thought of names beforehand, just in case there was an untagged turt. Mine would have been Gloria, and Emily’s Tenniel – I said Gloria and Tenniel sounded like the coolest lesbian couple ever, and this subsequently became our quiz name and alter egos) and some were very dear to the volunteer’s hearts, such as Danielle, the largest turtle I had ever seen.

Danielle, who we spotted later on in Argostoli harbour: could have found her anywhere!

Yet, it was Jane that made the biggest impression, because she had been previously injured: a thick, flesh-pink welt down to the bone of her skull covered the top of her head, an injury probably caused by a boat strike. After cleaning out the wound, the decision was made by Chanel (the big boss of Wildlife Sense, along with her husband, Nikos) to transport Jane to the vets. So that simply meant that Jane had to go in the boot of a car with Harry tending to her the whole way. I would have loved to see passengers’ expressions in traffic at seeing a man crouching in the boot of a car, over a huge turtle, wrapped in towels.

And, finally, our rota contained chores and jobs to aid the running of the project: bike maintenance (Emily broke a bike’s brake within ten seconds of handling it; I believe she is now a record holder), data entry, beach profiling, light pollution surveys and cooking. I have never cooked for more than five people before, so to cook for ten plus (as leftovers for the next day’s lunch were always welcome) seemed rather daunting. If you have met me for even less than ten minutes – maybe five, depending on my mood – you would know I get very easily stressed out: “I’m stressed” and “ouch!” (because I attracted a lot of injuries while in Kefalonia) were my buzzwords over the two weeks. Would there be enough food? Would people like the meal? Would people hate the meal and not tell me? Would people hate the meal and tell me? “You’re a perfectionist,” Harry said, and it’s true, because I was stressed for the whole duration of the first meal I had to cook. And yet, being in the kitchen and cooking – at least when the gas didn’t turn itself off, just as we were about to put the spaghetti on to boil – were some of my fondest moments while at Wildlife Sense, aside from the turtles, of course. With Harry or Josh’s playlist swirling from a speaker, we would sing and dance and laugh and coo about the turtles we had seen and discuss our lives back home. The communal kitchen at first terrified me, as I did not know what to say or what to do, but by the end, I was in there for a good portion of my free time – probably annoyingly for the people who wanted a break from me! – either talking, reading, or debating what to draw on my scoot (section of a turtle’s carapace) for our group’s joint turtle artwork. And that was all made possible because of the friendly, interesting, downright hilarious volunteers who I had the privilege to work with: Harry, Izi, Josh, Charlotte, El, Laura-Li, Olivia, Rebecca, Sarah and Emily (of course!) thank you for the best time. From praising my admittedly pitiful cycling attempts (I did not realise how many hills there were in Lixouri, and how much thigh chaffing I would gather either), to inspiring conversations and debates while patrolling the beaches at both 10pm and 6am, showing me the joys of henna (I need more!) and generally being such great people. You guys rock. (#teamlixouri #oneteamonedream)

The turtle kids

Dinner time

And a cheesy grin!

And before I knew it, the two weeks were over. As Emily and I arrived into Kefalonia, we saw a girl leaving Wildlife Sense’s Argostoli camp, to fly back home to Toronto, Canada. When she saw us, she asked how long we were staying for. “Ah two weeks? It’s never enough!” At the time, I thought two weeks wasa long time, however now I would happily have done the month if not longer if I could. As we waved Lixouri goodbye while on the ferry back to Argostoli, where our plane awaited for us to fly back to England, I could have imploded with sadness of leaving such an incredible place. Jokingly, earlier in the week, Olivia had said “don’t laugh because it’s over, smile because it happened” (to which we all groaned, including Liv herself, at the sheer cheesiness of it) but in a way – and with a shudder – in this instance I have to agree: my time in Kefalonia for Wildlife Sense was amazing, incredible, definitely life changing and great fun. It has increased my confidence when talking to new people (a struggle of mine), experience time away from home and prove that I can take care of myself (a mantra I believed I could not claim), as well as develop a real passion for conservation work and turtles too. And that is why, as I was on the ferry back to Argostoli, with the wild whiling up my hair and the sun warming my newly-tanned skin (very proud of that), I decided I wanted to volunteer again next year (fingers crossed!).

Last load of turtles off to the sea - and every one of them made it!

Wildlife Sense, thank you so much for this wonderful experience, and I hope to see you (and maybe some of my fellow volunteers) very soon!

Wildlife Sense, we love you and your turts