Medium Rare
Before tiny Heavenly Nymph Island became a modest ‘pleasure isle’, host to white weddings & day trippers, it was a leper colony called: Sickness Island.
Say what you will, but this makes me like the place more. So does the fact that they lend burly red mountain bikes for touring a completely flat island that I’ll hazard to be less than 200 yards across.
The pale ground, just as you'd hope for on a pleasure island, is strewn with fallen blossoms.
We took a walk, E, MF & I, each at our own pace. I rounded a leafy corner to find E sitting alone in a clearing, on a bench by a tree. He held a finger to his lips & then pointed:
For those of you who have never seen a nature documentary, sea turtles are endangered, defenseless & tend to lay their eggs only in the middle of the night. So we thought this was very exciting & a delicate thing. I sat down to watch, too, giving it a wide berth so as not to bother it. The magic of nature & so on.
We kept quiet.
Moments later, a fully decked-out bride, bridal party & photography crew tromped right through the clearing to take pictures by the tree. They paused & cooed, inches over the turtle, took a few pictures of it, then set up right in front of E. Then a second photo crew arrived at the beach—directly in the turtle's presumed route back in--& began to shoot pictures of a dashing young couple rolling over & over & over one another in the surf. Seconds later, 4 guys on mountain bikes skidded to a halt, surround the turtle & hunkered down with their toes at its heaving shell to watch, poke it & take pictures.
E, behind the bridal party, is now examining the heavens, looking extremely non-plussed. I’ve jumped up & am hovering around the bikers, imploring them to please back away & leave the turtle alone. Amused at my concern, they do.
The turtle, to its credit, seemed completely unaware of all this. What with the efforts of egg-laying. So I got closer & started taking pictures, too.
At last, the hare-lipped deckhand from our little boat hiked up to tell us it was time to go. The sun would set soon. He seemed really happy to see the turtle, too. He hooked a thumb at it & said to me, “They lay about 100, sometimes 200 eggs at a time.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I think it’s really rare to see this by daylight.”
He nodded. “They’re delicious. When you roast the eggs? Really good. I’ll have to remember this spot, come back later tonight.”
EPILOGUE:
Not mysteriously, here's the only other wild species we saw on a tour of 4 islands.
Say what you will, but this makes me like the place more. So does the fact that they lend burly red mountain bikes for touring a completely flat island that I’ll hazard to be less than 200 yards across.
The pale ground, just as you'd hope for on a pleasure island, is strewn with fallen blossoms.
We took a walk, E, MF & I, each at our own pace. I rounded a leafy corner to find E sitting alone in a clearing, on a bench by a tree. He held a finger to his lips & then pointed:
a sea turtle was laying eggs in the sand.
For those of you who have never seen a nature documentary, sea turtles are endangered, defenseless & tend to lay their eggs only in the middle of the night. So we thought this was very exciting & a delicate thing. I sat down to watch, too, giving it a wide berth so as not to bother it. The magic of nature & so on.
We kept quiet.
Moments later, a fully decked-out bride, bridal party & photography crew tromped right through the clearing to take pictures by the tree. They paused & cooed, inches over the turtle, took a few pictures of it, then set up right in front of E. Then a second photo crew arrived at the beach—directly in the turtle's presumed route back in--& began to shoot pictures of a dashing young couple rolling over & over & over one another in the surf. Seconds later, 4 guys on mountain bikes skidded to a halt, surround the turtle & hunkered down with their toes at its heaving shell to watch, poke it & take pictures.
E, behind the bridal party, is now examining the heavens, looking extremely non-plussed. I’ve jumped up & am hovering around the bikers, imploring them to please back away & leave the turtle alone. Amused at my concern, they do.
The turtle, to its credit, seemed completely unaware of all this. What with the efforts of egg-laying. So I got closer & started taking pictures, too.
At last, the hare-lipped deckhand from our little boat hiked up to tell us it was time to go. The sun would set soon. He seemed really happy to see the turtle, too. He hooked a thumb at it & said to me, “They lay about 100, sometimes 200 eggs at a time.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I think it’s really rare to see this by daylight.”
He nodded. “They’re delicious. When you roast the eggs? Really good. I’ll have to remember this spot, come back later tonight.”
EPILOGUE:
Not mysteriously, here's the only other wild species we saw on a tour of 4 islands.
posted by Anne E. Campisi at 5:42 PM
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