Sand Island is a real turtle nesting sanctuary. The topography is on our side - or the turtles’.
You can’t access our little beach easily - even at low tide. So there’s 350m of safe sand. This is a nest in waiting. There are four others dotted along this short space just like it. Mostly mama turtles come and drop their eggs themselves. But often, nests on other beaches are relocated here, where Mother Nature and monitors from Local Ocean Conservation watch over them.
Last year 34 nests from nearby beaches had to be relocated to safe haven, many were moved to our bit .
We think this poem, by Kay Ryan, perfectly captures the quiet determination and patience of mother turtles looking for the right place to lay.
We’re really glad they often pick our spot.
Who would be a turtle who could help it?
A barely mobile hard roll, a four-oared helmet,
she can ill afford the chances she must take
in rowing toward the grasses that she eats.
Her track is graceless, like dragging
a packing-case places, and almost any slope
defeats her modest hopes. Even being practical,
she's often stuck up to the axle on her way
to something edible. With everything optimal,
she skirts the ditch which would convert
her shell into a serving dish. She lives
below luck-level, never imagining some lottery
will change her load of pottery to wings.
Her only levity is patience,
the sport of truly chastened things.
"Turtle" from Flamingo Watching © 1994 by Kay Ryan