I have no memory or clues as to what we did with the bulk of the day, and few photos to provide me with hints, save for the fact that my mom purchased a hefty supply of crabs (probably blue land crabs, Cardisoma guanhumi) for some meal or other that I no longer remember. The latter portion of our day, however, was unforgettable: we went to see the leatherbacks!
Trinidad, as it turns out, is home to some of the world's most important nesting sites for the leatherback sea turtle. We had the wonderful opportunity to make a trip to the east coast of the country (fortunately a mere 20 or so miles from where we were staying in Arima) to Orosco Bay in Matura, one such site managed by the Turtle Village Trust, which strives to maintain a balance between conservation and ecotourism.
It was dark when we arrived at the open-air visitor center, where we checked in and waited for our guided tour to begin. Beach access was carefully controlled, with only a limited number of people permitted to visit at any given time in order to protect the site. A small number of the night's hatchlings had been temporarily collected to to serve as ambassadors to guests on the off chance that we wouldn't be lucky enough to witness any emergences, and we were delighted as the miniscule turtles, freshly starting life with the potential to grow into some of the largest reptiles in the world, were passed around from person to person. As the name might suggest, they were soft and leathery to the touch, and were full of energy, clearly eager to begin life's great adventure.
Once the tour began, we made our way onto the night-cloaked beach under a sky untainted by light pollution and lit by the nearly-full moon. The lush rainforest was almost uncompromising with the sea, leaving only a narrow strip of the sandy strand between them. We stepped with care, our path dimly lit by our guide's pale flashlight as he led us in our search, filling the silence periodically with information about the turtles. As we walked, I made conversation with one of our group, a young girl (perhaps a niece or cousin of Wendy's) with a bookish enthusiasm for the natural world whom I took a liking too right away. In musical Trini fashion, she told me excitedly about a field trip she had taken to the Caroni Swamp, a large mangrove wetland a little ways south of Port of Spain, and how scared she had been at the prospect of encountering a caiman there.
After about half an hour of searching and finding nothing but already-hatched nests and fragments of eggshells, our guide stopped us to indicate an emergence. We gathered around hurriedly, unable to contain our excitement as the sand burst into a flurry of tiny flippers, and countless hatchlings struggled out of the nest and made their way frantically to the safety of the frothy waves lapping the shore.
Our entire party were overjoyed to have witnessed such a miraculous and special event, but our guide soberingly reminded us that only a small percentage of the turtles would survive to adulthood. I'm sure I wasn't the only one to silently wish them the best of luck in the challenges they would face ahead.
We observed one other emergence that night, much to our delight. Unfortunately, despite our visit still falling within the latter end of the laying season, we were not destined to glimpse a colossal mother leatherback hauled out to deposit her eggs, a sight I very much had hoped to see.
Nonetheless, I was more than content with what we had been able to observe, and the following day would top everything we had seen yet.