by Justin Haring
Every year between July and January, the sun-soaked southwestern coasts of Nicaragua are invaded by fleets of sea-weary travelers. Crawling languidly from the frothy surf, they perform a ritual that has been repeated since prehistoric times and is now the last hope for the survival of a dying species. If you come to Nicaragua during this period, you have a rare opportunity to witness one of nature’s most awe-inspiring miracles of life: the spawning and hatching of the endangered Olive Ridley sea turtle.
On a stretch of beach about 20 km south of San Juan del Sur, thousands of turtles return from open waters to the same beach where they hatched. Here they deposit the eggs that will produce their armored progeny, handing them over to the cold bosom of evolution already equipped with all they will ever need for survival: a hard shell and a thick skin. And in 50 days, in a shallow hole on the beach of Nicaragua’s La Flor wildlife reserve, a tiny turtle is born. If it is lucky it will make its way out of its hole that very night, into the humid, salty air and into the arms of the only mother it will ever know, the great Pacific Ocean.
