Story: Tortuguero - Costa Rica Less Traveled

"Tortuguero, my happy home...,"

So goes the opening line of a song seldom, if ever heard beyond the banks of the Parisamina River. Despite its anonymity, the tune holds a special place in my heart.

In contrast to the popular tourist destinations of Tamarindo and Puntarenas, Tortuguearo is best described as the Costa Rica less traveled. This village of 500 residents owes its relative obscurity to its relative remoteness. Located near the Nicaraguan border, the village is accessible only by boat or light aircraft. This isolation has denied -- some say spared -- Tortuguero from the flood of tourism washing over the rest of the country. There is however an annual deluge of visitors worth mentioning. It was this frenzied migration that brought another Floridian to Tortuguero a half century before my recent visit.

Each year, as early as Febuary, and as late as October, thousands of sea turtles seek out the muddy expanse of beach lying between the mouths of the Parisamina and Tortuguero Rivers. Multitudes of loggerhead, hawksbill, leatherback, and rare green sea turtles flock here to nest.

While the number of turtles coming ashore today seems staggering, it pales by comparison to those counted as recently as 100 years ago. Stories abound, and photos exist, that prove it was literally possible to walk the length of Tortuguero's beach by stepping from the back of one turtle to the next! It was this preponderance of turtles that brought University of Florida Professor Archie Carr here in the early 1950's. Dr. Carr was already a recognized authority in the study of sea turtles. It was here, that he became the preeminent force in their preservation.

By 1950 commercial hunting of sea turtles had dramatically reduced nesting populations in Florida, and the upper Caribbean. The green sea turtle teetered at the brink of extinction and other species were sure to follow. As populations fell, hunting concentrated to places where the turtles remained numerous -- places like Tortuguero. Dr. Carr, a lifelong scholar, believed protective legislation was important, but thought that education was the best hope for saving the sea turtle. In 1959 he established the Caribbean Conservation Corporation, a non-profit organization dedicated to saving the turtles through research and advocacy.

The long process of educating people about turtles, Dr. Carr reasoned, should begin right in Tortuguero, a place that relied totally upon commerical turtle hunting. Little by little, often one by one, Dr. Carr and his associates convinced the villagers that a live turtle was more valuable than a dead one. His message spread. In 1970 Costa Rica established the 47,000 acre Tortuguero National Park, restricted turtle hunting to a subsistance level, and protected the nesting beaches from development. The Caribbean Conservation Corporation expanded, and is today the largest conservation organization in the Atlantic basin.

My jorney to Tortuguero began in Costa Rica's cosmopolitan capitol, San Jose, aboard an air-conditioned motor coach. The quicker way to Tortuguero is on Nature Air, a regional airline, but the bus ride passed through the Braulio Carrillo National Park and allowed time for some side trips into the rainforest.

With no roads into Tortuguero though, the bus was only my first means of transport. Near the industrial port of Limon, I boarded an open boat called a "Panga" to begin a journey of several hours through a maze of rivers and connected waterways that roughly paralleled the Caribbean coast. As the intrepid captain steered our boat against strong currents and dodged submerged logs and other hazards, our English fluent guide explained the emense bio-diversity through which we were passing. Curious birds, such as the architectually talented orapendula, and the noisy toucan, of Fruit Loops fame were abundant. Occasionally, troops of howler monkeys were spotted in the treetops.

The sporadically cleared lands of subsistance farmers gave way to increasingly dense forest as we progressed. The sign, declaring in both Spanish and English that we were entering Tortuguero National Park was a welcome sight. We passed the village just as night was falling and continued about a mile further to Laguna Lodge, one of seven lodges situated north of Tortuguero, all catering to eco-tourists.

Laguna provided Spartan but adequate accomodations and a very welcoming atmosphere. Our small cabins sat amid well maintained, tropically landscape grounds that included a pool. Unfailingly delicious meals, included in the price, were served in the open-air, thatched-roof dining hall. Evening entertainment consited of gatherings around the fire-pit where stories were told and friendships begun. One night, three local musicians performed their repertoir of homegrown folk songs, including, "Tortuguero - my Happy Home."

Twice daily guided outings into the park were augmented by specialized tours that offered in-depth observation of certain flora and fauna. The famous nesting beach was a short walk away, as was the village itself, home to the Caribbean Conservation Corporation's turtle rescue and research facility which provided daily educational programs.

The things I saw amazed me: exotic birds, poisonous frogs, crocodiles, doll-faced capuchin monkeys, and their racous cousins - the howlers, and of course the nesting sea turtles. But what touched me the most was Tortuguero itself -- a tiny village sandwiched between a raging sea and a wide, deep river; inhabited by gentle, happy people who once hunted the turtle almost to extiniction, but now, thanks to the dedication of one man, have vowed to forever protect them.

"Tortuguero, my happy home... From Tortuguero I may never roam..."

Thanks for Reading -- to learn more, read "The Windward Road," by Archie Carr