Imagine: a small creature, barely larger than the palm of your hand, struggles through the sand into the light of day. Its fins, evolutionarily perfected for life in the water, move awkwardly on the dry surface. Its instinct points the way to the sea – to its natural home, which it has never seen.
At this very moment, it is decided whether an ancient species will continue to exist or will only be part of our memories in the future.
WHEN A PLAN LITERALLY FALLS THROUGH
December 2024. After four months traveling with our family through North America, we land in San José, Costa Rica, at 7:05 in the morning. Our mission? Ten days volunteering in a sea turtle rescue and beach cleaning program on the Osa Peninsula.
The plan is simple: Cosme, our driver, will take us directly from the airport to our destination in about six hours. But as soon as we sit in the car, it becomes clear that the element of water will affect our plans. Weeks of rain have made the main roads impassable.
“Only with a four-wheel drive and a brave driver,” explains Cosme. We can’t deny him courage, but it’s not a four-wheel drive that we’re sitting in.
So after a few hours’ drive, we end up stranded in Sierpe, a small village by the river. A boat trip to Drake Bay – our actual destination – awaits us here. What was planned as a comfortable shuttle ride turns into an unplanned adventure.
We are rewarded with the sight of an impressive river crocodile, which our children gaze at in awe. The subsequent boat trip becomes an exercise in trust – first 40 minutes through the winding river, then out to the open sea at high speed.
I struggle to hold on to everything that is on the boat – bags, jackets and children. We race over the waves so fast that every impact sends little adrenaline rushes through my body. Safety regulations are interpreted generously – after all, everyone has a life jacket. Probably. Somewhere. The locals grin at my European concern. After all, they do this every day.
In Drake Bay, we get out of the boat into the water to reach land. We are warmly welcomed by Alba and Manuel (who run the project) and Manfred, our taxi driver, who takes us to the camp in his 4×4 over roads marked by heavy rain or what is left of them.
THE MAGICAL MOMENT: 100 LITTLE LIVES IN OUR HANDS
We arrive just in time to witness something extraordinary: newly hatched sea turtles making their first journey to the sea. Our children can hardly believe their luck as they watch the tiny creatures.
Together with other volunteers, we release almost 100 little Olive Ridley turtles into the sea. While the little ones walk a short way across the beach to the water’s edge and now bravely fight against the surf, the first questions arise: How many of them will survive? What do they eat? Will they ever return here?
The answers we get a few days later are a bit disillusioning. For the Olive Ridley sea turtles in Costa Rica, about 8-10 out of every 1,000 hatchlings survive to breeding age – better than the global average, but still alarmingly low. Their journey is dangerous from the start: birds of prey wait on the beach, predatory fish in the water – and then there are the man-made dangers: fishing nets, boat propellers and something we will soon see with our own eyes: plastic. A lot of Plastic.
OUR HOME: A SHED FULL OF LIFE
Our accommodation is rustic: a “room” with bunk beds in a simple wooden shed. A few boards separate us from the other volunteers. Showers and toilets are within walking distance and we are told that there are “in principle” no dangerous animals – only a few poisonous toads.
After the long journey, we fall asleep exhausted and grateful, accompanied by the sound of the sea, which is both soothing and powerful. In the middle of the night, rain sets in – large drops drumming on the corrugated iron roof, a concert of natural forces.
The next morning, we are greeted with sunshine and a wonderful local breakfast. Yes, there are chicken eggs – lots of them, beans and fresh coffee. At the project, we meet young people from England, France, the Netherlands and a mother with her son from Mexico. Although we come from different corners of the world, we are united by a common goal: we have all traveled here to make an impact.
THE RACE FOR THE EGGS – RAISING OR DELICACY
The project has a clear daily routine. After breakfast at 8 a.m., work begins. On the first day, we start by preparing a turtle egg hatchery for the coming season. Over the next few days, we experience two hatches of over 200 turtles. We count them, gently touch their tiny shells, and bring them safely to the beach, with an escort for the last potentially dangerous mile.
In a lesson about the project, we learn about another of their biggest enemies – surprisingly, humans. Yes, humans. In 2025, turtle eggs are still considered a delicacy in Costa Rica, among other places. This thought leaves us speechless.
In the project, there is a real race for the eggs: raising or cooking pot. To win this race, volunteers patrol the beach at night with red headlamps. The red light does not disturb the turtles, but allows the helpers to discover nesting females whose eggs can then be collected and brought to the safe hatchery.
A female Olive Ridley turtle lays about 100-110 eggs per nest and can create 2-3 nests in one season. The eggs take about 45-60 days to hatch, depending on the temperature. Heat accelerates the process, but also determines the sex: warmer nests produce more females, cooler ones more males. Climate change is therefore an additional threat – it could drastically alter the sex ratio.
WHEN PLASTIC ALL OF A SUDDEN GETS A FACE
After a few days, we change the focus of our work. Beach cleaning is on the program. Everyone gets a bag and we walk a two-kilometre stretch of beach with seven people – our family and the participants from Mexico.
What we find is shocking: plastic after plastic. Toys, flip-flops, PET bottles, old tires, foam… The small parts are particularly dangerous. In just five minutes, each of us collects a handful of microplastics – exactly what turtles and other marine creatures confuse with food and die from.
The idea is horrifying, and one thing becomes crystal clear: watching beach cleaning on TV or on YouTube from the comfort of your sofa is one thing. Experiencing it in person completely changes your attitude.
Every year, about 8 million tons (!) of plastic enter our oceans. A single plastic bag can kill several marine animals because it enters the water again after the death of an animal. Turtles mistake plastic bags for jellyfish, one of their favorite foods. A turtle that swallows a plastic bag suffers a slow, painful death from starvation with a full stomach.
Reality hits us right in the heart. Our children (6, 8 and 10 years old) continue to collect – not only here, but later also on streets and playgrounds in Hawaii and Japan. They wonder if birds and other animals can suffer from it, and so awareness is growing in a young generation: there must be alternatives to plastic and, above all, if plastic is used, there must be a functioning recycling system.
SURPRISING WATER QUALITY IN THE WILDERNESS
We don’t have a car at camp, and the nearest supermarket is about a 40-minute walk away. The question arises: where do we get drinking water?
The amazing thing is that we find that we can drink the tap water, which comes from a local source and runs through a simple filter, without any problems.
With a Dutch miracle attachment – a finding from a start-up discovery trip – we transform the simple tap into a vital source. The water splashes through the attachment into our jar, on the bottom of which the Telos healing crystal unfolds its invisible magic. The energetic quality of the water increases noticeably, and we enjoy every sip. The secret winner: our environment. No more lugging bottles, no more mountains of plastic – just clear, revitalized water straight from the tap.
After months in North America, where the heavily chlorinated tap water wore down our travel filter after just a few weeks, this is a feeling of freedom. The people of Costa Rica have a natural relationship with water – they don’t complain about rain, and nature answers.
The colors of Costa Rica are impressive and powerful, the vegetation lush and lively. Fresh coconuts straight from the tree are a pleasure that we all learn to appreciate.
SEA CONSERVATION WITH HEART AND HANDS – THAT’S WHAT WE TAKE AWAY
After ten days, we leave Drake Bay with mixed feelings. On the one hand, we are filled with the intense experiences and the certainty of having done something meaningful. On the other hand, we now know how much still needs to be done. A game that can only be won if people worldwide develop a different consciousness.
The last little turtles we release into the sea carry our silent wishes with them: Survive. Come back. Tell of a world where it is still safe to be a turtle.
Once you have felt the tiny fins of a creature that has been populating the earth for 110 million years – long before the dinosaurs – your perspective changes. Plastic is no longer just an abstract enemy of the environment. It is the deadly threat to creatures whose struggle for survival we have witnessed up close.
Our three children have understood what no schoolbook could have taught them: we are not separate from nature. We are the destroyers or the keepers. The choice is ours.
Have you ever participated in a conservation project? Or are you considering a similar experience with your family? Share your thoughts in the comments or write to me directly. The little turtles are waiting – along with countless other species that need our help.