I’m a little later checking in this week. I was travelling to Trinidad and am writing now from the main room of Suzan’s Guest House in Matura, a short drive from the turtle beach.
It’s hot and humid here. The ceiling fans in this room are on full blast, but there is a nice breeze billowing the gauzy lime green curtains that cover the open doorway. Insects are singing outside and occasionally the rooster down the way—no matter the time—calls out.
We start our Field Trip on Sunday. I am waiting expectantly for the arrival of our volunteers. I came a little early to catch up with our friends at NatureSeekers. We were last here in 2019—when pandemics were not a thing and the world seemed easier. There has been a lot to catch up on: losses, which have been hard—those missing faces—as well as the good parts—new babies, and kids who, three years later, are towering versions of their former selves. This room has been ringing with laughter and filled with the comfort of friends you pick up with right away, no matter what time has passed.
The night before I left Halifax, around supper time, Kyle made a video call to the Canadian turtle team over WhatsApp. All of us popped up on the screen in our little boxes. “Look!” he was calling, showing us a leatherback, hauling up on the beach at Grand Riviere where he and Adrian are working on their project with Mike. Leatherbacks don’t typically crawl onto the beach unless it is dark, and this one was right in front of the field house in full light—a rare occasion.
They called so we could see. So we wouldn’t miss it. The turtle didn’t nest—it was what we call a “false crawl.” She turned back to the ocean. But it was that instinct for us all to be together—across great distance—to share the moment—the delight—that I hope is what our volunteers will take away with them from their trip. How leatherbacks, through their extraordinary migrations, loop us into one community.
I am excited for you!!! and for the turtles.
I’m sure all your travelers will have an unforgettable experience.