A Night I Won’t Forget: Leatherback Patrol in Costa Rica

📍 Caribbean Costa Rica – 19 April 2025
🕓 Nest #8 recorded at 04:18 – 30 viable eggs, 5 vanos (infertile)

It started like many other patrol nights — boots on sand, red lights in hand, and 6km of moonlit shoreline ahead.
We were walking Playa Grande, a stretch of Costa Rica’s Caribbean coast where leatherback sea turtles return to lay their eggs, alongside Joshua and the volunteers from Planet Conservation.

We’d reached the far end of the beach near Rio Estrella where we took a break, captured a few photos of the volunteers under the incredible starry sky. After about 30 minutes, we began walking back down the beach. In the distance we noticed something unusual: faint lights up ahead. As we got closer, we saw a group clustered around a nest. At first, we thought they might’ve just stumbled upon turtle tracks — but then we realised...

She was still there.

A massive leatherback sea turtle, camouflaging her nest, rhythmically sweeping sand with her flippers in an attempt to hide the location of the egg chamber — a final act of protection before returning to the sea.

Taken in Costa Rica, the white light is from poachers stealing the nest.

An Unexpected Encounter

As soon as we turned on our red light to assess the situation, part of the group scattered into the jungle. A few older men stayed. We introduced ourselves, explained the work we do with Cahuita Turtle Rescue, and tried to stay calm.

It was chaotic — bright phone flashes, people touching the turtle, digging around the nest, and even trying to distract us with conversation. But we didn’t confront them. That could escalate fast.

Instead, we engaged. With what little Spanish I had, I chatted with some of the guys — laughing, talking about the turtle.
They were poachers, but confrontation on the beach can lead to threats, violence, or worse. Our approach is different. We try to build rapport, share knowledge, and defuse tension.

Negotiation at the Nest

After a long and tense discussion, we managed to agree to a 50/50 split of the nest — a compromise we never take lightly, but one that ensures at least some eggs are protected.

Did we get half? Not quite. But considering the circumstances, it was a huge win.
Most nights, poachers wouldn’t even stop. They’d tell you to keep walking — or worse. On this night, we walked away with 30 healthy eggs, and that felt like a small victory.

Back to the Sea

We watched the leatherback finish her final task —l umbering back towards the water.
She took a detour around a small log (leatherbacks aren’t exactly agile), eventually finding her path home under the fading stars.

But the night wasn’t over.

A Final Chase

We were logging data when I spotted lights coming back through the jungle. I grabbed the eggs and ran down the beach, trying to get enough distance to avoid being followed.

But I wasn’t alone.
Figures moved along the forest trail, shadowing me from between the trees. My heart pounded. Every step felt heavier with the weight of the eggs in my hands — and the responsibility they represented.

Eventually, I reached safety.
We made it back to the hatchery, where we carefully buried the clutch in a new nest under protected watch.

This was Nest #8 of the 2025 season, laid in the early hours of April 19th, and it’s one I’ll never forget.

Why It Matters

Moments like this are intense, unpredictable — and real.
They show just how delicate sea turtle conservation can be. We’re not just protecting wildlife — we’re navigating a complex space where local livelihoods, law enforcement gaps, and conservation values collide.

These turtles have been returning to Playa Grande for millions of years. And thanks to the dedication of volunteers, conservationists, and quiet acts of compromise like this one — they’ll keep coming back.