Green Sea Turtle

Hello, my name is Chelonia, and I am a Green Sea Turtle. My story began on a warm, sandy beach around the year 1985. I was one of about a hundred brothers and sisters, all of us hatching from our leathery eggs under the soft glow of the moonlight. The moment my shell broke free, a powerful instinct took over. I could feel the pull of the ocean, a deep, ancient calling that silenced all fear. The journey from my nest to the water’s edge was the most dangerous race of my life. The sand felt vast, and the sound of the waves seemed so far away. But I scrambled with all my might, my tiny flippers pushing against the grains of sand, moving instinctively toward the shimmering light reflecting off the water. Reaching the waves felt like a victory, the cool salt water washing over me as I was swept into the great, wide ocean. This is the story of my incredible life as a traveler of the seas.

For the first several years of my life, from about 1985 into the early 1990s, I lived a life of mystery. I drifted far from shore, carried along the massive ocean currents that circle the globe. For a long time, human scientists called this period the 'lost years' because they simply didn't know where young sea turtles like me went after we disappeared into the waves. During this time, I was an omnivore, meaning I ate both plants and animals. My world was a floating ecosystem of seaweed mats, where I found shelter and food. I nibbled on small jellyfish, their bodies like gelatinous bells, and other tiny invertebrates that also called the seaweed home. I grew very slowly, a tiny speck in a huge blue world, letting the powerful currents guide my journey across vast expanses of water.

By the late 1990s, I had grown much larger and stronger. The open ocean was no longer my home; instead, I felt a new pull toward the shallower coastal waters. This was a major turning point in my life, as my diet changed completely. I became an herbivore, a creature that eats only plants. My days were now spent grazing peacefully in lush underwater meadows of seagrass and munching on algae. It is this green diet that actually gives my species its name. The pigments from the plants accumulate in my body's cartilage and fat, tinting them a greenish color. During these years, I also perfected an incredible skill my ancestors have used for millions of years: navigation. I learned to sense the Earth's magnetic field, using it as an invisible map to guide me on epic migrations, sometimes thousands of miles, between my favorite feeding areas and the place I would one day call home.

After nearly 30 years of traveling the oceans, a powerful, ancient call began to stir within me around 2015. It was the call to return home. Using my internal magnetic map, I navigated across the ocean, back to the general area of the beach where I had hatched so long ago. My long journey was for a single purpose: to lay my own eggs and continue the cycle of my species. But the world had changed significantly since I was a small hatchling. My kind now faces many dangers that my ancestors never knew. We can become accidentally entangled in fishing nets, or we might mistake floating plastic bags for jellyfish, which can be very harmful. In the United States, my species was listed under the Endangered Species Act in 1978. Since then, many humans have worked hard to protect us. They have designed special fishing nets that allow turtles to escape and have passed laws to keep our nesting beaches safe, dark, and quiet so that new generations can begin their race to the sea.

My journey continues, as I can live to be 80 years old or even more. I have a very important role in the ocean, one that affects countless other creatures. By grazing on seagrass, I act as a gardener of the sea. My constant trimming helps keep the seagrass beds healthy and productive, much like mowing a lawn encourages the grass to grow thicker. These healthy underwater meadows provide critical homes and food for an incredible variety of fish and other marine life. My story is a reminder that every creature, large or small, has a purpose within its ecosystem. By protecting ancient travelers like me, humans are not just saving a single species; they are helping to protect the health of the entire ocean, the vast blue world that connects us all.