The Turtles of Lady Elliot Island
Located at the southern tip of the Great Barrier Reef, Lady Elliot Island is remote—50 miles from the Australian coast. There is limited air access, and no ferries or boats come in. Evenings on Lady Elliot Island are dark and quiet but for the sounds of the wind, the waves, the birds, and sometimes the sounds of sand being scooped and pushed as Green and Loggerhead turtles come ashore to dig holes and lay eggs.
The Green and Loggerhead turtles that call this island home are the size of end tables–three to four feet in length and about 500 pounds or more. They can live to be 50-80 years old, and will often travel as far as Africa in their lifetime. At night, they lumber up on the same beaches where they were born, to find a place above the high tide line to lay their eggs. About 8-12 weeks later, hatchlings dig their way out of the nest and run for the sea—usually on a cool, dark night. It is said that the baby turtles know their way to the water by looking for the lightest part of the sky—the horizon. Any other lights may disorient and confuse the turtles. So during our stay on Lady Elliot Island, we were urged to keep room lights off at night, and when lights were on—to close the thick curtains tight.
“She must have forgotten the time”
Every morning, we saw at least one turtle making her way down to the water after sunrise. Sometimes we saw turtles sitting at the lip of the surf–exhausted from their night’s labor–waiting for the tide to ease them over stones and back out to sea.
Watching the Turtles
On land, turtles seem prehistoric, lumbering, slow, and so intentional. In the water, they float, glide, dive, and seem so carefree. On a glass-bottom boat tour, we saw a teenage turtle resting in a bed of sea plants on the ocean floor, while another large turtle cruised past the boat’s sea window looking in at us. A Hawksbill turtle—which is endangered and rare to see around Lady Elliot—swam by the boat. On our final morning, Bryan saw a single half-dollar-sized hatchling race to the sea.
Another day, I sat on the beach, soaking in the sun and staring out at the turquoise blue of the reef. Bryan was snorkeling—or as he said, putting his face into an aquarium of colorful, Finding Nemo fish. I tried to write in my journal, and should have been applying sunscreen to my shins. Instead, I couldn’t take my eyes off the glinting water. And like a vision, I saw a giant turtle raise her head and look at me from the reef right in the very spot where my eyes were focused. I saw her feet treading water as she bobbed in the shiny waves, looking straight up the beach at me. She stayed there for a few minutes before turning and diving down. Maybe she was looking for her nest, or being kind to this non-swimmer with a little viewing. I’ll remember that turtle for a long time, gracefully bobbing in the sparkling blue water.
Saying Goodbye to Lady Elliot Island
Turtles are solitary and mysterious creatures. They navigate long distances, and yet regularly find their way back across the vast ocean to the same tiny bit of beach where they were born.
As we lifted off the runway, and circled around to see the island from the air one last time, I hoped that I–like a turtle–could find my way back to the peaceful beaches of Lady Elliot Island and the Great Barrier Reef.
“And the turtles, of course…all the turtles are free, as turtles and, maybe, all creatures should be.” Dr. Seuss
