Thanksgiving Day Story

I removed my helmet and let the tropical air rush through my hair. The smells were as diverse as the ecology of the area, with a new aroma around every bend in the road. The Osa Peninsula is frontier land, virgin untouched tropical rainforests speckled with cattle pastures and small farms. The road at times was a nice smooth well packed gravel base, but as we approached the park it got worse and worse. We had to drive through dozens of rivers, some that tested my skills and the abilities of the bike. At one river crossing the water was so deep I felt I had made a big mistake, but somehow I made it through even though the water was above my knees and seemed to completely inundate my bike. Through a mountain pass with thick jungle canopy on all sides and above, the road turned into a motocross course, but I made it through without major incident. Coming back would be another story.

After an hour of this we arrived at a small village and beach. We were still not in Corcovado park, but from the beach we could see it in the distance, some 2-3 mile hike north along the sand. We began walking. Our goal was not to go into the park today- we just wanted to enjoy the beach and be near it. The entrance price is $8.00 per day, which is nearly our whole budget for one day, so if we were to go in, would be early in the morning to take full advantage of the day. That was our plan for the next morning. We began walking north along the sand looking for tree cover to protect us from the pending rain, and a relaxing place to make lunch and chill. We forded two rivers and I nearly lost my sandals in a mud pit that consumed one of my legs up to mid-thigh. When the tropical downpour started, we gave up trying to reach the edge of the park, and settled for the nearest tree covered area. It was somewhat of an island separating a small lagoon on one side and the ocean on the other. We found good protection under the palm and almond trees and made lunch. We made sandwiches of cheese, avocado, and other vegetables, ate cookies and mixed a bottle of Guaro (sugar cane rum) with lemon-lime drink mix and orange juice.

The rain did not let up, and we relaxed and digested our food. We started to realize we were under a time crunch. It had taken us longer to get here than we had anticipated, and we knew that the way back would be very difficult. As the rain continued to fall, the rivers would begin to fill up, as the water drains down into them from all points in the watersheds and rushes out to the ocean. We would have to cross many of them with the motorcycle. Coming in was difficult, but going out was still an unknown. Darkness would be upon us within 3 hours.

Just as the sun peaked out behind the storm clouds, Cati stripped off all her cloths and walked down the sand to wade in the waves. Despite the time, we really felt no sense of urgency. The sun was out and we had to enjoy it while it lasted. I immediately joined her. We could not actually swim here. In fact we were afraid to get in above our knees due to the current and sharks. The guide book was very explicate about these two subjects. We could clearly see a very dangerous current directly in front of us. The rip tide was so strong and fast and the slope of the beach very steep. It was almost daring us to go in a little deeper, pulling us towards it with every wave that crashed on our knees. With them came a sudden excess of water on the shore, which subsequently flowed back out with such force it could pull our feet right out from under us. There would be no escape. Swimming parallel to the shore and perpendicular to the current would not save us here. Within a minute we would find ourselves past the breakers and drifting south in open sea towards Panama.

Massive cumulous clouds filled the sky in the distance, but for the moment we had sun. The clouds were moving in towards us and we could see rain forming above the point just north of us. Two pairs of scarlet macaws flew overhead, yelling as they do, with every flap of their huge red wings.

If we left right now we could make it back without much problem I thought, but we did not want to leave. I was filled with a sense of peace and gratitude, taking in the full experience which each breath. We both came to terms with the fact that we have to stay out here tonight. Worst case scenario would be us huddled together under a palm tree for 10 hours, fighting off ants and mosquitoes, waiting for the sun to rise, soaked and shivering. We decided that was not that bad, but best to avoid it if possible. There was nobody on the beach as far as we could see in either direction. The sun was in the horizon with about 2 hours of sky left before it fell behind the ocean. We sat down on a log near our picnic spot to take in the experience one last time. We sat there, still and naked, and gave thanks for the awesome beauty we which we were observing and participating with.

The giant green turtle that emerged from the waves spoke to me without words. It delivered to my spirit, wisdom from the sea. Millions of years of evolution have brought the three of us together at this spot. I was overwhelmed with a sense of awe, pride and excitement. It was not lost to us that this was a very special moment. As far as we could see in either direction, there were no other people or turtles. We all three chose this one spot to meet- to learn and to teach. The magnificent creature became our teacher for the next hour, and I felt a sense that she had chosen us to be her guardians.

With diligence 100+ lb turtle crawled and lugged her 50 year-old body (nearly twice my age), up the steep sandy beach, step by arduous step. 20 minutes it took her to crawl the 50 meters.

step?.step.?step?.rest?.breathe?.breathe?. step?.step.?step?.rest?.breathe?.breathe?.

She took in slow deep breaths of warm, humid tropical ocean air, and worked her way patiently and with great determination, directly towards us. We sat still and silent. She buried her head into the sand, smelling around for the perfect place to lay her eggs, to fulfill her biological imperative. Every cell and chemical reaction inside her body, from her tail to her cerebrum was focused with great intensity on accomplishing her task. We could feel her presence of mind, her awareness and her trust.

She finally settled for a spot, literally 7 meters away from our log, and she began to dig. For twenty minutes she dug with all four legs, scooping sand out of her hole- arm full after arm full, until it was as deep as her back legs were long. Then she settled herself over the nest and dropped her precious cargo. Egg after egg after egg, for 15 minutes she laid them- hundreds in all. Then she buried the hole, periodically stopping to pack it down with her shell. She would lift her body up as high as she could and drop herself down onto the sand, taking care to make it as difficult as possible for predators to find her offspring before they could get to the sea. She then disguised the hole by messing up the sand in a 1.5 meter radius around the nest.

With her task accomplished she turned and headed towards the water, moving with a speed and agility that was absent before. She showed no fear as we followed her closely. We both leaned down and touched her back, wishing her well, thanking her, and congratulating her all at once. Within seconds the great creature was swallowed by the ocean.

In the horizon the sun was dropping fast into the ocean, and the giant nimbus clouds were upon us. We would never make it back before dark, but we were determined to Puerto Jimenez, even if we had to ford rivers on the bike in pitch black and rain. The ride back was a nightmare challenge. The bike got stuck in the deep river and the chain came off three times. I caught it from falling into a mud pit one time, but in the process burned a 1 x 6 inch T-day scar into the side of my left calf. Although I am taking good care of the wound, by cleaning it a applying an organic ointment of golden-seal and Myrrh, I hope that it does not completely heal. That way I will always remember T- Day 2003 as the day of the turtle, not the turkey.