Peter Laufer - Dreaming in Turtle: A Journey Through the Passion, Profit, and Peril of Our Most Coveted Prehistoric Creatures

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As always

with love

for Sheila

Human beings should never be responsible for allowing a species to disappear from the Earth. We must all do whatever we can to keep that from happening.

On Necker, my island in the Caribbean, I suspect we have more animal species than on any other island on the planet. When species are in peril, a few should be kept in captivity to assure that the species continues to exist. Captivity for animals on Necker is not like captivity in a zoo. We make sure the animals enjoy plenty of room to roam. I feel like Dr. Doolittle sometimes, caretaker for so many happy critters, especially the day I watched one of our lemurs feed fruit to a couple of hungry giant tortoises.

The tortoises are among my favorites of the animals living with me on Necker. I was thrilled when we discovered our first Indian Ocean Aldabra giant tortoise egg on the islandanother sign that our chelonian community is self-sustaining. In addition to the giant Aldabras, we provide a safe haven for critically endangered Burmese star tortoises and Burmese black mountain tortoises, along with such a comfortable home for red-footed tortoises that they are laying eggs and the eggs are hatching.

As I wrote in my book The Virgin Way , I favor seeking what I call serious fun, and I enjoy doing good while doing well. Thats why I appreciate the reporting that author Peter Laufer engaged in during the years he researched Dreaming in Turtle. There are plenty of good books about turtle biology and tortoise evolution. What makes Dreaming in Turtle a unique read is that it chronicles the serious fun experienced by the dedicated and disparate community of humans who have chosen to intertwine their lives with tortoises and turtles.

Of course there are scofflaws and other villains in the tortoise and turtle subculture. The poachers and smugglers and traders who prey on the animals are identified in these pages; its important to know all the playersbad and good. But its fascinating and reassuring to meet the motivated wildlife police struggling to save threatened and endangered species, and the hardworking fellow conservationistsmany of whom Ive crossed paths with as a result of our efforts on Necker to provide a safe haven. Their stories come alive as the heroes of Dreaming in Turtle , populating with unforgettable personalities this comprehensive and compelling survey of the status of these mesmerizing animals.

Listening intently to everyone with an opinion is another lesson I teach based on my business experiences. Latent herpetologist and swashbuckling journalist Laufer follows that rule in Dreaming in Turtle as he travels the world developing his own passion for tortoises and turtles while discovering their ubiquitous presence in all our lives. From Santeria priests in Cuba who sacrifice turtles for their clients to dedicated volunteers risking their lives to protect incubating eggs on Costa Rican beaches, from medicine men in Gabon who grind up tortoise shells to create hemorrhoid cure potions and Cajun cooks in Louisiana brewing turtle soup to undercover agents running risky sting operations in underground Southeast Asian markets teeming with endangered turtles and tortoises, the following chapters bring to life a fascinating cast of characters interacting with turtles and tortoises.

Dreaming in Turtle tells a cautionary tale of imminent extinctionof what happens when timeless allure combines with illicit markets. But this is a story that can result in a happy ending. The book serves as a call to action because we all can, in our own fashion, help create for animals worldwide sanctuaries like those on Necker. And we must.

R ICHARD B RANSON, 2018

The Santeria priest and I are sitting on the floor in his Havana altar room. On a table across from where his last client left her cash (after the chicken sacrifice on her behalf) is a Buddha and a bust of Mary holding Jesus. Seven glasses of water are lined up on the white-sheet tablecloth along with an assortment of other icons: a portrait of a woman holding a sword and a jeweled goblet, a crinkled tract about Christ, a string of beadsone end dipped into one of the water glassesand a lone cigarette. Changthe lord of fire and lightningis represented by a carved wooden object that looks like an urn, a bowl of squash and apples at its base, at its side a wooden statue of a monk holding a cross and wrapped in a string of beads.

The jicotea , Babalawo Martinez instructs me about turtles, thinks a lot. Thats why he is very slow. The jicotea is always thinking. He tells me he feels connected to turtles. The jicotea has lots of secrets, secrets given to him by the Supreme Being.

For example? I ask, and for the first time that evening Martinez balks at a question.

The babalawo has a lot of secrets, too, he says about himself, the priest. And the babalawo would be punished by the spirits of the dead and the orichas if he revealed them. But before we part he offers me the Santeria version of the prayer sung while Cuban priests cut the heads off sacrificed turtles; it translates to Giving the blood to oricha who needs it.

This priest, Babalawo Martinez, is wildly popular with believers. As one of his followers told me, He solves a lot of problems, and people see the results.

We stand and shake hands. If you have any problem we can talk again, he says. At the time I assume he is referring to follow-up questions for my research inquiries. But as he says good-bye, he asks, Do you have a turtle in your house?

Not yet, I answer.

You must, he prescribes. For the good energy and for your health.

I amble toward my waiting purple 1955 Oldsmobile Rocket 88 taxi, with its noisy Chinese bus diesel engine idling and fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror, looking back at Sergio Martinezs crumbling apartment block. He stands in the doorway under the strand of dried grass that indicates to a needy public that a babalawo practices in the house, a lit cigarette in his hand. We exchange a waved adios.

Seems a bad idea to ignore an order from a Santeria priest. Soon after our Cuban encounter I identify the turtle to accompany me on my continuing chelonian journey. He? she? (Ive yet to learn) is a rescue, picked up off the streets of Phoenix, Arizona, by a Good Samaritan who found a temporary home for it with Matt Frankel, the Turtle Conservancy board member who houses several dozen mostly endangered turtles and tortoises on his foundations acreage outside Prescott. When I express concern about the responsibility of caring for my turtle, Frankel assuages my worry with this assessment: They do wonderfully if theyre neglected. My kind of housemate!

But I do expect, or at least hope, to develop a bond with my new companion. As time passes, the two of you will get to know each others personalities, Im told repeatedly by turtle aficionados. Personality? A turtle? Yes, more than one source promises that turtles and tortoises show identifiable individuality, expressed, for example, by how one might eat out of a companions hands, and whether it hides in its shell or reaches out for a caress. And apparently they do, eventually, recognize their human mates. Not that my Sonoran desert box turtle will necessarily be in a hurry to bond if I dont make the first moves. Reptiles just slow down when theres nothing to do and they wait for the time to pass, reports its current caretaker, Frankel.