Turtle Journal

Nothing is more exciting to a field researcher than discovering a new nesting site.  It signifies a wealth of possibilities for our threatened friends, as they claim yet another beachhead from which to cling to survival.  So, join with me in celebrating a wonderful find on this last day of March.

In the center of Wellfleet lies Duck Creek, once crossed by a long abandoned railroad line stretching out here to the end of the universe.  The creek runs into the Wellfleet basin and pier, which bustle in frenetic activity each summer as urbanites frantically scramble to relax in our rustic hamlet.  The mutts and I braved a set of intimidating “PRIVATE: NO TRESPASSING” signs as we checked the wrack line for any terrapins which may have been dislodged from their winter hibernacula by the last set of new moon tides.  The area is dotted with vacation cottages, now boarded and ghostly in the chilly March overcast.

Wellfleet Town Center on Duck Creek

On an easy facing knoll, opposite the old railroad bridge, I spotted a series of scratchings and indentations which could only signify — at least to this terrapin researcher — a nesting site.  On closer examination, the entire hill was pocked with digs.  Now, to an untrained eye these signs may have pointed to a oft-visited dog run.  But, no, I was sure I had found an unknown terrapin nesting site.  The problem, of course, is that with no evidence other than earth disturbances, my assessment would be mere speculation.  And March is a bit late in the year to expect to find remnants of nesting activity.

But the gods smiled.

Diamondback Terrapin Egg Shard

Tucked near a tuft of vegetation I spotted the first terrapin egg shell.  Tracing a line back to the nearest dig, I found some more hatched shells.

More Terrapin Egg Shards

And, finally, excavating the nest itself yielded a total of 15 hatched terrapin eggs.

Terrapin Egg Shards Bagged for Analysis

The Duck Creek terrapins have a new nesting site, or at least one we never found before.  And tourists who invade the surrounding cottages each summer will have a bit of natural miracle hatching right under their bedroom windows.

Terrapin Hatchling Rescued by Maryland High Schoolers

Students from Wooten High School in Maryland visited Mass Audubon’s Wellfleet Bay Wildlife Sanctuary this morning on a field trip. Being more than 500 miles from the Free State didn’t stop these kids from rescuing Maryland’s signature critter: a diamondback terrapin.  Walking the picturesque Goose Pond Trail along the South Wellfleet marsh, they spotted a dust enshrouded hatchling blindly crawling along the path.  She measured a mere 2.8 centimeters long and weighed in at a severely dehydrated 4 grams.  Her eyes were sealed shut by desiccation and Terry, as the students named her, was in serious distress and easy prey to a host of predators if the elements themselves didn’t snatch her first.  Without their intervention, Terry didn’t stand a chance. 

Terrapin Hatchling Hydrated and Ready for Release

Back in the lab, Terry has been integrated into the recovery terrarium with Knotch.  She soaked in fresh water under a heat lamp and was able to open her eyes to inspect her new environment.  After less than two hours, she left the wading pool and has begun exploring the rest of the tank.

In the Land of Ooze, nothing happens fast.  Fall lingers into November, winter tarries into March, and spring never comes on time.  But as water temperatures inch upward at turtle speeds and the mud flats begin to thaw, the marsh reluctantly surrenders its secrets, held buried since last October.  Remains of two terrapins were uncovered in the Fox Island Wildlife Management Area this morning.

Mature Male Terrapin Carcass in Fox Island WMA

The first turtle was a mature male, 6 or 7 years old.  He had not been previously observed by our research team, so there’s no history on this fellow.  His sported flared rear marginals and had an unusual slant cut across the front of his carapace which had shaved most of his right front marginal clean off.

Don Lewis Documents Mature Male Terrapin Carcass

The second terrapin was a 2-year-old juvenile, completely desiccated but limbs mostly intact.  The shell had become bloated and separated along the seams, making accurate measurements impossible.

Desiccated Two-Year-Old Terrapin Carcass

Today’s water temperature readings in the marsh creeks, where our brumating terrapins are fast asleep, tickled the high forties, inching ever so slowly toward the magic 55ºF wake-up call.  And so we wait our here at the end of the universe. impatiently, for either Godot or the first terrapin of spring . . . whichever comes first.

Two “storms of the century” in quick succession are enough to make any self-respecting, tree-dwelling turtle pine for springtime and maybe Tarzan, too.  Jane, the diamondback terrapin unearthed during the full moon tides of early February, has bunked down in the Connemara Cottage treehouse to wait out winter.

Hunkered inside a cozy carton which should read: “Do not open til it’s over!,” Jane has slipped back into the reptilian dreamworld of brumation, with sweet thoughts of yummy tidal shrimp and luxurious mud baths dancing in her head.

Less than two weeks to spring, and then maybe another two weeks or so before the first terrapins begin to stir, and Jane can return to her playmates in the Land of Ooze.  For the nonce, sleep on, young Jane.  “Rock-a-bye turtle in the tree top . . .”

This morning as we hiked the salt marshes tucked into the lee of Lieutenant Island’s sandy hook, we spotted another juvenile harp seal lounging on the snowy remnants of last night’s storm front.  In mermaid perfect pose, she surveyed her domain, while soaking up the weak rays of an occluded sunrise.

Juvenile Harp Seal on Lieutenant Island

Assessing us as “non-threat,” she went about her business, playfully sliding down a nearby creek bank and waddling toward the low-tide drained Loagy Bay.

Juvenile Harp Seal Plays in Drained Marsh Channel

She obviously enjoyed this protected refuge, because several hours later I received a call from a resident asking if I had seen the young harp seal now hauled out on the Sandy Hook and whether she was okay.  I told her, “Yes, she seemed in good health . . . very well nourished and quite active.”