We arrived a little early and were told that all scheduled walks had been cancelled. Any turtles coming in wouldn't stand much of a chance in the ridiculously cold air and with the wind, it was dangerous for us warm-blooded walkers. Because we don't have the combined brain power of a gnat, we headed to the beach. This was what Andrea's thingey said:
We wore layers and layers and heading out, the wind was at our backs. "Hmm.. it's bad but let's at least try to get to this spot..." We pushed on past the half-way rocks and were surprised that we had seen no turtles. That was good, really, because they would only have minutes to survive out of the water (the water temps are still in the 40s). We decided to head to the harbor side of the island to get out of the wind a bit. It sounded good on paper.
You can see how much fun Andrea was having as she crossed over the dune.
We saw another deceased Ocean Sunfish. We also began to realize that we didn't know the terrain on this side and we kept coming to dead-ends and tide-pools. We had to backtrack a bit, stick to the dunes and still fight the wind. We finally decided to go back over the dune to wrestle the windy beach... at least we knew where we were. We did find two frozen-solid Kemp's Ridleys back there, though.
Much to our chagrin, when we got back on the beach, we were barely past Halfway Rock. We had made a giant U-turn in the cold back there. We pushed back towards the car for what was likely the worst hour and a half we've ever spent together. My way of dealing with wind, ice and blowing sand is to put my head down and push... try to get it over with. Andrea, on the other hand, had bad Achilles tendons flaring up and had to walk backwards, one teeny step at a time. I love her so much but I told her afterward that it was like walking the beach with Tim Conway's old man from The Carol Burnett Show. I waited for her to catch up a few times, standing with my back to the wind and freezing my balls of. Literally. It was so cold and windy that our sled broke. Shattered. I never even noticed when the main part blew away. Andrea grabbed it. I was able to fly the remaining chunk like a kite.
I beat her to the car. I just couldn't take it anymore. The Diet Coke in my backpack had frozen to slush. We really should have listened and stayed in, staying warm. All we had to show for it was two Kempsicles and a broken saucer.
We took the dead turtles to the sanctuary and put them in the dead turtle room. It was a full house in there. Many many turtles had stranded that day, only four were still alive. We went to check in to our hotel one town over. Andrea looked much happier on a warm bed with hot tea.
Why the hotel? Because we had our dear friend Bob coming up on Friday to walk that goddamn beach with us the next day.
Staying on the Cape also meant we got to have a nice Thanksgiving dinner at the sanctuary with our good friends Tim and Kim (who supplied the dinner! Thank you!) and others of this magnificent crew of turtle-helpers. I brought the upper left pie (mixed berry made by the one and only Stabatha LaThrills) and there were three others. Pie is good food.
We managed to turn in pretty early. I drowned myself in NyQuil and didn't sleep too badly.
Bob and two of his kids showed up while we were having breakfast the following morning. We told him about our shitty day previous and mentioned that walks might be cancelled because of the temps. Still, we all got ready for the inevitable. We were expecting a huge day. I borrowed a sled from the sanctuary and we headed to the island, a motley crew indeed.
Much to our delight, the winds had died down and it was in the high 20s... a fucking tropical paradise.
There wasn't much action on the beach and sadly, the boys' first sea turtle encounter was a frozen solid Kemp's that probably came in during the night.
I got this ace picture of a Ruddy Turnstone. I didn't need it for my year count but its a decent shot so here it is.
Bob and I were walking together as we neared the point, with the others about 100 yards behind us. There were loads of birds out there... Gulls and Eiders, mostly. Then we noticed a big blob right at the edge...
He tried to call his boys to get up to where we were... seals make all things good again. He plopped into the drink.
We all stood out at the point, 3 1/2 miles from the car, watching seals watch us. Then an extraordinary thing happened. A young Gray Seal came up out of the water, not 15 feet from us, and started looking us up and down. We stood there in the moment (I got no pics, Bob got a few) just enjoying this once in a lifetime experience. Then, it decided we had nothing of interest and he flopped back into the water. A breathtaking encounter.
Unfortunately, only one more turtle was found... a battered Kemp's that had probably washed up the day before and was taken back out with the tide. Poor guy.
It seems the winds had shifted during the night and the expectation of a huge day turned to a very light day. Which is fine since the turtles stood much more chance for surviving if they didn't wash ashore.
Andrea and I were very proud of ourselves for making it. Thanks to Bob and his boys, we sucked it up and did a walk we thought we might not be able to do. I feel badly that we didn't get the boys some live turtles but you just can't predict these things.
The season isn't nearly over. Will I survive? Ah, who cares. As long as some turtles do.
heroes plain and simple.... all of yous- i am so sorry that the turtles were mostly dead...... i am however glad that you saw bob and his kidlets and got pies...........i hope you both feel much better
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