Book review: A biologist finds hope in the conservation of Mexico’s sea turtles

“A Sea Full of Turtles: The Search for Optimism in an Epoch of Extinction”

By Bill Streever; Pegasus Books, 2024; 256 pages; $28.95.

Bill Streever, author of “Cold,” “Heat” and other science-related books, is a biologist who splits his time between Alaska and sailboat cruising in warmer waters. When the coronavirus pandemic hit in 2020, he and his wife sequestered themselves in the Gulf of California (also known as the Sea of Cortez), the inland sea between Mexico’s Baja Peninsula and the mainland. There, an encounter with a pair of mating sea turtles started him on a journey to learn everything he could about sea turtles and to think beyond the one species to consider how we (humans) might find hope in a world of so much environmental destruction.

The topic of loss and extinction has been covered extensively in recent years, but Streever has approached it freshly, with optimism as well as realism, and with his own brand of personal story and humor. His curious and enthusiastic dives into the biology and history of sea turtles, along with his direct experience along Mexican shores, will carry readers into the same engagement.

We learn that there are seven species of sea turtles in the world today and that five of these live in the Gulf of California and lay their eggs on its beaches. For thousands of years, turtles were captured and their eggs collected both as local foods and for trade or sale. Relatively recent conservation measures, adopted by national and intergovernmental agreements, have reduced exploitation, although poaching, entanglement in fishing gear and other threats continue.

We also learn that sea turtles differ from freshwater turtles in ways that include an inability to retract their necks and heads into their shells. Like all turtles, the top shell or carapace is essentially its ribcage, and its plastron — the protective shield on the underside of the shell — is also made of bones. The gender of turtles is determined by the temperature in which their eggs incubate — males at lower temperatures and females at higher; climate change may skew the ratio.

Elsewhere Streever covers the evolution of turtles, from the birth of the first turtle some 260 million years ago. Early European explorers of North America, including those with Christopher Columbus, described the Caribbean as being so full of sea turtles that they looked like little rocks everywhere and it seemed that ships would run aground on them.

Organizationally, Streever traces his travels around the gulf — walking beaches, watching for turtles, talking with everyone he meets about turtles and connecting to people engaged with turtle conservation. He accompanies a “turtler,” a woman who looks for turtle nests and arranges to protect or move them to safe locations. He meets with a veterinarian who runs a program that includes incubating eggs and releasing hatchlings. He helps with a turtle necropsy. One day he joins a group of men fishing for octopuses with traps, something he feels guilty about but justifies as part of his research and because “engaging with those who make a living from the sea is a necessary part of the conservation movement.”

Throughout, he digresses frequently into subjects that spark his interests, including stories related to Darwin, Rachel Carson, E. O. Wilson, John Steinbeck, various now-extinct animals, recoveries of species once on the brink of extinction, fishing practices and the problem of human overpopulation. His author’s voice is conversational and laced with humor. He describes a couple he meets on the beach as “perhaps overly well-fed for their bathing suits.” He quotes a 17th-century conservation document that refers to waste and abuse of sea turtles by “sundrye lewd and impvident psons” and refers to “sundry lewd and improvident persons” in modern situations.

The optimism in the book’s title comes from the fact that, while just a few decades ago it looked as though sea turtles were on the road to extinction, conservation efforts are making a difference. Although it’s not known how many sea turtles exist, most people working with them agree that their numbers seem to be increasing. Efforts in Mexico and elsewhere involve protecting nesting sites, preventing poaching, education, and the use of new technologies like Turtle Exclusion Devices (TEDs) to limit their catch in fishing nets.

Streever stresses throughout the book something he learned as a biologist in Alaska and witnessed in Mexico. When outsiders come to communities for studies or programs and don’t involve local people, conservation efforts most often fail. In Mexico, although efforts are aided by Americans, they’re run by locals and are heavy on education and employing locals. Former fishermen visit schools to teach young people about turtles and engage them in protection. It’s a system that seems to be working.

Twice, Streever participates in hatchling releases. One time, the hatchlings are caught in surf crashing against the shore, and he and his wife, supervised by those in charge, load a couple dozen in their dinghy and release them offshore. Another time, admitting that as a biologist he was trained not to relate to individual animals, he writes, “Point of fact: I defy anyone to release a baby sea turtle without emotion.” Readers might experience similar emotions — and hope for the world — by journeying with Streever through the pages of “A Sea Full of Turtles.”

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