An encounter with baby loggerhead turtles turns a trip to southern
Florida into much more than a beach holiday. By Joanna Reeves
“They’re lively,” shouts Eve Haverfield, into the gale. “I opened the sunroof and windows on the way here so they could smell the ocean air.” Uncovering the bucket, she hands me an inky-eyed loggerhead the size of a child’s palm, his tawny flippers frantically paddling the air — it’s hard to believe he could grow up to be 350lb and over 3ft long.
Once placed on the sand, he instantly scurries towards the lightning-lit horizon, alongside the seven other survivors rescued from a flooded nest here on Bonita Beach. Under a leaden sky, huge waves roll in like unfurling carpets, spreading foam-specked patterns around our feet. “The rough sea’s good,” Eve yells. “They’ll be camouflaged” — the wind steals the rest of her words. “From predators,” she mouths.