5 Things I Wish I Knew Before Volunteering for Sea Turtle Conservation

When I first signed up to volunteer with sea turtles in Costa Rica, I was buzzing with excitement. I'd seen the documentaries, followed the conservation hashtags, and imagined the moment I’d see a turtle nesting under the stars. And while I did get that moment — and many more like it — there was a lot I didn’t expect.

Volunteering for sea turtle conservation is one of the most meaningful things I’ve ever done, but it’s also one of the most physically and emotionally demanding. If you’re planning on joining a turtle conservation project — whether it's in Costa Rica, Mexico, or anywhere else — here are five things I wish someone had told me beforehand.

1. You Probably Won’t See a Turtle Right Away (Or Every Night)

Let’s get this out of the way: nature is unpredictable. You might turn up during nesting season and still spend days — even weeks — without seeing a single turtle. Some volunteers arrive expecting daily encounters and are surprised when nights go by with nothing but footprints and moonlight.

That doesn’t mean your work isn’t important. Even when you don’t see turtles, you’re collecting data, deterring poachers, and showing up for the conservation effort. And when that one turtle finally appears? It’s worth every kilometre walked.

2. Night Patrols Are No Joke

Four-hour patrol shifts might sound manageable on paper — until you’re halfway through your second shift of the night, walking 10km in wet sand, in the rain, at 3am. Patrols happen whether you're tired, sore, or haven’t seen a turtle in days. And you’re doing it all under red light, with minimal sleep and max humidity.

It’s tough. But it also brings the team closer together. Some of the best laughs, deepest chats, and weirdest games happen in those hours. Just be ready to sweat, ache, and push through. It’s all part of the experience.

3. You’ll Be Off-Grid — and That’s a Good Thing

Many conservation camps, like Río Oro on the Osa Peninsula, are completely off-grid. There’s no phone signal, no Wi-Fi, and very limited electricity. At first, it’s a shock to the system — no scrolling, no Spotify, no checking in with the outside world.

But by week two, you won’t miss it. The jungle becomes your soundtrack. Books come back into your life. Conversations deepen. You learn to live slower — and you notice more. It's a reset you didn’t know you needed.

4. You’re Not Just Saving Turtles — You’re Doing Chores Too

Conservation work isn’t all turtle tracks and sunrise releases. Every volunteer plays a role in keeping the camp running. That means cleaning the toilets, burning toilet paper, washing down patrol equipment, chopping veggies, sweeping sand, and maybe a bit of gardening.

Some days you’ll feel like you’re in an episode of Survivor. But the sense of community is real. Everyone pitches in, and that shared effort is what makes it feel like home.

5. You’ll Walk Away Changed (And You’ll Want to Come Back)

What starts as a short-term volunteer experience has a funny way of getting under your skin. You come to help the turtles — and you do — but you also find something bigger: a deeper connection to nature, a new appreciation for the rhythms of the wild, and a global community of like-minded people.

I left Costa Rica sore, tired, and very sandy — but also more inspired than I’d been in years. Sea turtle conservation isn't glamorous. It's real, raw, and hands-on. And it has a way of making you realise what matters.

If you’re thinking about volunteering, do it. But come with open eyes and an open heart. It’s not about what you’ll see — it’s about what you’ll learn, who you’ll meet, and how you’ll grow.

And if you're lucky, you'll have that one night. That one turtle. That moment you’ll carry with you forever.