The wind howled fiercely as she walked amidst the raging sands, unmindful of the sharp stings that bit at her ankles. Her scarf was blown back over her face and she suddenly smelt the salty sea air that was now tinged with the chill of the monsoon trades. She walked on, determined to succeed in her quest that night. Focusing her attention on the thin beam of light that emanated from the battered torch she held in her hand, she searched the sands for traces of markings that her quarry had left behind. She knew that they had been there just hours before and she had to keep her eyes from straying to her destination that was dimly marked by a row of lights on the horizon in front of her.

She had walked many miles that night and had as yet found nothing. Disappointed, she had allowed her thoughts to wander along the last half mile and she smiled as she remembered pleasant memories of a conversation she had had two years ago over coffee in one of the popular coffee chains overlooking the Miramar beach in Goa. She remembered his smile as he told her of the one he loved before and laughed as she thought of the subtle twinkle in his eye. She would never forget those eyes and she silently dreamt of the time they had spent together that week. A coarse male voice bellowing behind her suddenly brought her back to her senses and she realized the voice belonged to her field assistant, Najmudheen. He had begun to chatter incessantly to her in his native tongue as was his habit during these long nocturnal jaunts and she listened half amused at his opinions on fellow islanders, local events, and more serious warnings of demons and ghosts that he feared haunted the beaches they were tramping on. Her mind was only half attentive to his admonitions as she thought instead of her quest at hand.

She thought of her elusive quarry which was known to frequent these shores in the dead of the night while the rest of the world slept ignorant of their visits. The beasts came with a purpose. And she of all people knew how difficult each trip was to them. Battling swirling currents and jagged rocks on the outer reef, the giants spent a great deal of effort to reach the glistening white sands of the island. Once they heaved themselves on the wet sands, their task, only just beginning, was to get to a discreet spot beneath the vegetation that grew wildly beyond the sand dunes. Each had their own spot in the dense brush and it was a mystery how they located it each year like a beacon. Once deep inside the bush, they would proceed to scoop great mounds of sand from around them and fashion gigantic pits from which they would go on to scoop out a further smaller pit. In this they would then lay over a hundred small white eggs loosely bound by a thin layer of colourless mucilage, each glistening sphere withholding a priceless treasure of life unborn. Once their secret nests were laid, the animals would then cover the hole with such remarkable skill that even to an observer who had witnessed the whole event, it would be impossible to pinpoint the exact location of the precious eggs. The whole process usually took over three quarters an hour and remembering the fact, she hurried incase some of the beasts had remained, struggling to dig holes in the billowing sands that blew wildly that night.

She was right as she found one such exhausted female a little distance away, slowly returning to the sea, her clutch of eggs still nestled within her humongous frame. She ran to the female and urged her assistant to hurry and give her the instruments she would need. She glanced at the Government warden who had accompanied them and for a second contemplated his role in the affair. She was not entirely satisfied by his presence but he was obliged to be there and she had no alternative but to shrug and ask him to hold the torch for her. As the field assistant frantically turned his ragged bag inside out for the tools, she took a moment to gaze at the creature before her. Covered with sand and misshapen scales, the giant was the beauty of nature expressed in its most ancient and primeval form. She stared as the large animal took another heave towards the waves. She knew she had to stop it from proceeding any further. She had work to do and could not do it if the female got into the water. As she was about to yell to her assistant, she caught a glimpse of the creature’s tired eye and for a moment hesitated. Thoughts swam in her head on tagging principles, pain that was equated to only that of ear-piercing and the usefulness of tagging data to conservation of sea turtles. But it seemed to fade into obscurity as she watched the nesting turtle make its steady way back to its domain under the turquoise sea, its purpose of being unfulfilled that night. She knew it would certainly return another night making the same journey across the perilous sea and she suddenly thought of her own life and the ‘breakers’ she had faced over the last two years. The giant reptile’s resilience, in a way, mirrored her own. She stood still for a moment and made up her mind. She walked over to the frantic Najmudheen and reached into the bag to help him find the two metal tags. As her fingers felt their way between the objects in the darkness, she could see out of the corner of her eye, the turtle inching its way back into the surf. She smiled as she thought of the two tags safe in her pocket and turned resignedly to the Warden who stood meekly on her right. “Oh well” she said, “There’s always next time”…


--------- x ---------
This was a semi-fictional story I wrote in my head when I was once on a really boring survey. The only part that was true was the strong wind and the billowing sands. We didn’t see any tracks nor did we see any turtles. Oh and if I HAD seen a turtle that night, I would have definitely tagged it. I’m not that sentimental. Besides my boss would have kicked my ass if I’d let it go. :)
--------- x ---------