Jeebus I’m tired, a long night on the beach, and now I’m here at the reception, keeping a check on things while 150 students run around the sanctuary at 8 o’clock in the morning. Two females surfaced last night, but in general there has been less and less activity on Praia das Minas. Instead, we are reaching the height of the hatchings, which occur about 45 days after the eggs are laid. Every night, after patrolling, we open a nest or two that is already digging its way to the surface. Once one turtle breaks out of his shell, he struggles under the weight of sand and eventually breaks the shell of his neighbor, who wakes up and starts digging too. The process for the whole bunch to reach the surface might take 2/3 days. Just before they come out, we count the living, the dead in shells, and the non-developed, before releasing them into the sea. Sometime we have to count a lot of empty shells, when a fox or a dog has got to the nest, but most of the time it’s really happy occasion, and we bundle the little critters into hats, pockets, coats and hands and drop them down to the sea edge. I have to tell you, the combination of sunrise and baby turtles starting their long journey is a great tonic for the soul.
With both quads finally working well, we’ve been monitoring another nearby stretch of beach, ‘olho d’água’, which is even more densely nested. The last/first ferries depart at 4.30pm and 10am respectively, but the long haul is always worth it. The place is beautiful, and the sand is incredibly fine, like a beautiful white dust. I went with Daniel and had a good chat about the constellations and crap, before we caught 3 that night. That’s good going, but one was particularly special. On her right-hand flipper she had no tag, and I was well pleased, because I thought she might be new. I was slightly disappointed a second later when I saw tag 17945 on her left-hand flipper, (the other one must have fallen off). I related the news to Daniel, and he stared at me in disbelief. ’17!!?’ You see we are currently tagging with marks starting 57... It meant this turtle was tagged ages ago. The boffins at the TAMAR data bank have already been back to us; it was first tagged 9 years ago, on Atol das Rocas, and was caught laying there twice since. There is lots of useful info generated from this find, apparently, especially since they reckon that hawksbill turtles only lay eggs for about 5/6 years. She had a beautiful shell too, just so you know.
I inveigled my way into another trip to the interior. Not as adventurous this time, just to Santo Antonio, and a restaurant owned by Valdenir’s wife’s sister. It’s built beside the ‘Salto da Onça’, large rocks that once housed a jaguar that used to jump from one rock to the other. The interior thrills me each time, and the country relations were lovely, as can only be expected from this wonderful family. I ploughed through acres of delicious food, and finished with a selection of interior fruits, each more sour than the last, until my face had disappeared into a black hole in the centre of my head. I was caught between Valdenir’s wife (Paula)’s assertion that I was a good boy, who didn’t really drink beer, and Valdenir’s impish smile as he caressed an amber brewski. I had a beer. The family will soon be moving from there gorgeous home in Tibau do Sul for Natal, where next year both the daughters will be studying. When I left the family last time, I hoped I would see them again. This time I know I will. If nothing else I’ll have to come back to see Fernando do Noronha.
Everyone who goes there rants maniacally about the incredible beauty of then place, and tells me I have to go, with a mad glint in their eyes, that has me backing away slowly with a smile. The ex-prison, (these paradises always seem to be ex-prisons, I have an image of lines of people queuing at the police station, waiting to confess about their light fingers), will have to wait for me until the next time, due to some financial hurdles. Ironically the islanders now rob tourists in getting and staying on the island.
Instead I’m happily winding my days down in Pipa, with a good bunch of lads and laughs. I might treat myself to some kitesurf lesson to give this blog some weight in name at least, before I go. I’ll finish with a couple of observations from my time here that I haven’t been able to shove into previous blogs. Although it’s a mostly catholic country, there are some pretty interesting sects and religions. The Spiritists are apparently big in Europe too, but I’ve never heard of them. They have ‘lectures’ rather than sermons, based on the recordings of a 17th century French scientist, who messed around with a Ouija board. They also believe that the world will be going through its big change this year, just like the Mayans. More light-hearted worshippers are found in the bola de neve (or snowball) church. These hippies/surfers sing and are give praise for good weather and good waves, and worship a big surfboard at the top of the room. They sometimes find time for Jesus too. I’m sure I’m stereotyping both these groups, without doing any research whatsoever, but that’s what good internet blog-writing is all about. Next week I’ll probably do a made-up exposé on the Mormons.
Love you lots.
P.S. Was hanging with the guy from this video recently. What a place.
