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COLUMN OF THE WEEK TTK: on Adventures
Sunday, November 27, 2005 Saving Baby Turtles in Mexico by Eileen Ogintz
There are no brave 5-year-olds getting on yellow school buses anywhere near this remote spot two hours north of Puerto Vallarta on Mexico’s Pacific Coast, no moms and dads clutching cameras and wiping away tears. The “kids” that have prompted my sweet reverie could fit into a kindergartner’s palm: Baby Olive Ridley sea turtles, more than 600 of them tonight, with our help are taking their first tentative steps away from the comfort of their nests and into the world. It’s exciting to watch them slowly make their way to the water’s edge. It’s scary not knowing what will happen to them along their life’s journey—just like our kids. Welcome to Playa Las Tortugas Turtle Camp. Here on this stretch of beach that’s the nesting habitat for three species of endangered sea turtles, government, private and volunteer efforts have converged during the June-December nesting season to help more of these amazing creatures survive. It’s an idyllic spot for eco-loving families, located at the end of 11 miles of pristine white-sand beach, between the beach and an 1,100-acre saltwater tidal estuary that’s home to more than two dozen species of birds, including herons, egrets, pelicans and storks.
Peregrina said his work wouldn’t be possible without the help of an international cadre of tourist volunteers, as well as support from a Mexican rock group and developers Rob Hancock and Karen Nelson, Americans who are building the Playa Las Tortugas villa resort along the beach, just steps from the camp (http://www.playalastortugas.com). Hancock is determined to build a different kind of resort, he explained—brightly colored stucco villas set in spacious gardens amid the palm trees, within sight of the beach and pool. The idea is that eco-minded parents and kids can stay in the villas, help patrol the beaches to collect the eggs, and then, as we were, be on hand to return the hatchlings to the water. They must be released at night, Peregrina explained, so that they won’t be burned by the sun or gobbled by birds on the beach. So far this season, volunteers have helped gather some 87,000 turtle eggs, putting them in sand-filled Styrofoam containers until they hatch a month or two later. An astounding 50,000 hatchlings have been released by volunteers like us. Wearing long pants and sleeves to protect us from the sand fleas, we carry big plastic tubs of squirming turtles within a few yards of the water’s edge and gently dump them out, cheering them on. Peregrina said that most camps have only the most basic accommodations, if any. But here, there are nine well-appointed villas (more are being built) on a working coconut plantation, with all of the amenities a vacationing family might want—from air conditioning and dishwashers to the pool and beach all to yourselves. There’s even a masseuse on call. The biggest plus: The price is within many vacation budgets. Villas that sleep four to six start at $200 a night. Local women will cook for your gang for another $60-$80 a day, including the food. Turtles aren’t all this place is about, either. The kids can take surfing or kayak lessons, taught by an amiable young English-speaking guy who just graduated from a local university. See how many different kinds of birds your kids can name as they kayak through the estuary under the watchful eye of local guides. Ride horses down the beach for miles without seeing another soul. Watch the workers harvest coconuts from the tall trees. Interesting and unique, for sure. Yet this is a far cry from most Mexican resorts, and it would take a special kind of adventurous, self-sufficient family to enjoy it. Ready? Paddle a mile or so to Platanitos, a string of thatched-roof restaurants along the ocean where you can order up freshly grilled fish that comes in huge slabs (literally 2 feet long), priced at $3 for a half-pound. Mexican kids are out playing on the beach, jumping the waves. Head about five miles down a dirt road to the small town of Otates - about half of the 900 people who live here are children—and take a cooking lesson from Guadalupe Osegueda, who owns a small local restaurant, and her friends. They’ll show you how to roll tamales and make tortillas and mole sauce. Osegueda shyly tells me the restaurant’s name—translated as the Diner of the Three Colts—is for her three young sons. This place isn’t perfect. There are pesky bugs, and no place to buy calamine lotion for the bites, much less anything else. A doctor is at least a 40-minute drive away. (For more general tourism info on Mexico, visit http://www.visitmexico.com) There’s no nightlife, except for the margaritas you mix yourself on your villa patio. (Opt for a couple of days in Puerto Vallarta for that resort/shopping fix.) No one comes around to set up beach chairs or to organize kids’ activities. There’s no swim-up bar at the pool, no mariachi band. I didn’t miss those things. They couldn’t compete with baby turtles. © 2005 Eileen Ogintz, Distributed by Tribune Media Services, Inc.
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