The beaches near Ft. Lauderdale are clean stretches of near-white sand on the open Atlantic. We were there during the height of sea turtle nesting season and the beach was dotted with small enclosures of staked off areas which were numbered. We soon found out that daily patrols identified the new turtle nests, marked and dated them and roped them off for safe incubation. As the approximate hatching time for each nest approached, the crews of biologists watched for the mound to cave in slightly, a sign that the eggs had hatched. Then, to make certain that the hatchlings were not attracted to the lights of the hotels along the beach (most of which voluntarily kept their exterior lighting to a minimum) the crew dug the baby turtles from their deep, sandy nest, loaded them into 5 gallon buckets and transported them to a sparsely populated beach area for release. The members of these teams of young scientists were quite happy to answer all of our questions and patiently explained their mission.
My teenagers, husband and I all felt as though we were a part of a grand conservation effort. We felt proud knowing that here are people out there who devote their time and energy toward saving a rather obscure creature such as sea turtles and who know that every time we lose a species, the delicate balance of life shifts. Sometimes you stumble across an educational experience where you least expect it, so we try to keep our eyes open and ask a lot of questions. The ocean is a spiritual experience in itself. Add the tender commitment of young, hopeful scientists trying to save a small part of our world, and our hearts expanded with joy.