Page 30 of The Summer Island Swap
‘An iguana?’ said Amy clapped her hands. ‘It’s an adult right, because it’s brown? The young are fluorescent green?’
‘Well done! These ones can grow up to six feet long if you include the length of the tail.’
He and Amy chatted about the other species of lizard that lived on Seagrass Island. I had to admit the animal’s unusual appearance gave it a certain beauty. The pointed scales on the back of the neck, standing to attention. The perfectly pointed, streamlined shape of that tail. The widely spread toes..
‘What an honour to see this creature in the wild,’ mumbled Benedikt. ‘It’s a luxury future generations may be without.’
My knees hurt as we went down the steep decline.
‘Mein Gott, this place is a photographer’s idea of heaven,’ he added a few minutes later, stopping every now and again to take shots. ‘So far, I have taken fifty photos of different plants and insects and ten of that iguana. The setting sun adds a touch of atmosphere.’
‘Make sure you add #SeagrassIsland when you post your shots on social media,’ said Rick. ‘We need all the publicity we can get.’ He stopped dead for a moment. ‘Listen.’
The buzz of insects and evening calls of birds continued but there was an added element. Relaxing. Reassuring… a constant, rhythmic splashing.
‘The sea,’ said Amy and punched the air.
The ground had levelled out and we managed to run, leaving behind the towering tree canopies. Sea. Space. Fresh air. A cooling breeze. We emerged from the forest and onto the beach. After hesitating for a moment, I dropped the rucksack and like the others, I slipped off my shoes and socks and carried them, my toes playing piano notes in the warm sand. I admired the tangerine sun, its head almost ducked under the horizon, its last rays appearing dappled across the undulating water.
I could do this. We were on the flat now, away from the claustrophobic, sweaty, insect-filled forest. Although thinking about it, claustrophobic wasn’t the right word. I hadn’t felt hemmed in. The beach simply provided a contrasting environment and the breeze was most welcoming. The forest was just… crowded, in a good way, like a diverse neighbourhood where people led their lives side by side. During just this short walk I’d seen how plants and animals helped each other. Mutualism, I think it was called, a term someone had jokingly used once during a training session at Best Travel. Like the termite mounds built through team work to create a home for all the workers. Or the bees collecting honey and thereby getting pollen stuck to their legs and consequently pollinating flowers. One species of frog Rick pointed out carried its tadpoles from plant to plant, letting them grow in the pools of water offered by various large cupped leaves that collected rainwater.
The rainforest felt like a carefully attuned community where everybody had an important part to play. Everyone belonged. Like a big family. I wondered what that felt like. For so long it had been me, Amy and Nelly. Even when I’d lived at home with Mum and Dad, there had never been that sense of us all being part of the same bigger thing. We were just individuals, Dad the centre of attention, the rest of us skirting around the edges, Mum always looking to calm him and me protecting Amy from his cruel comments.
Benedikt and I swapped rucksacks with the others. He didn’t speak much to me and that was fine. We couldn’t get on with everyone equally. He seemed to have hit it off with Amy whereas I’d bonded with Jonas. I let him go ahead and dropped back. For the first time since arriving I appreciated the tranquillity. I’d quickly realised that on this kind of break personal space was a luxury.
Eventually Rick slowed his pace and I caught him up. I jumped as something swooped overhead.
‘Bats,’ he said. ‘They can’t harm you. Well, not unless they pass on a disease. I take it you’ve had the relevant jab? It was optional but on the website I said—’
‘Yes… the bat one…’
He shot me a curious glance. ‘So which one was it?’
All you could hear was the sea.
‘Do you know which jabs you’ve had?’
‘Amy did all the research. I just turned up for the appointment, it was a busy week and—’
‘Ah, right,’ he said dismissively. ‘It was the rabies one in case you are interested.’
I wished the sand would swallow me up. It was clear my lack of know-how irritated him, much as he tried to hide that with humour.
Amy linked her arm with mine and talked about the sunset, flashing her torch as we passed stranded jellyfish, her wishing she could save every one. Eventually the beach veered around to the right and came to a long, wide cove with boulders either side. They cut off the wind making it the perfect, secluded nesting site.
‘Why do the turtle eggs need our intervention here?’ I asked.
‘Not even these huge stones could protect their eggs from the hurricane,’ said Rick. ‘In 2017 nests across all the islands were affected and the population is still recovering, so we carry the eggs back to our specially protected sand pits to protect them from predators such as lizards and crabs.’
‘This conservation work is also about trying to compensate for the problems caused for turtles on other islands, isn’t it?’ asked Amy – though it sounded more like a statement. I could sense her confidence growing.
‘Yes. Poachers operate where the land isn’t private and tourists bring a different set of challenges. The curious want to look at eggs and their noise disturbs nesting patterns, plus beach front lights disorientate hatchlings. Their instincts tell them to crawl towards light as soon as they are born, because that is moonlight on the waves and gets them into the water – but in very commercial areas they head for the street lights by accident and end up getting run over. I’m hoping our project helps to support the turtle population of the whole region.’ Rick dropped his rucksack and bucket at the top of the beach. ‘Let’s set up the two tents here before the sun disappears. Then we can eat and get to bed. We should manage a few hours’ sleep before getting up at midnight.
Amy smiled at me and took Rick to one side. I felt uneasy as she chatted to him for a minute. He looked puzzled and then shrugged. She came back.
‘All sorted,’ she whispered. ‘You’ll be sharing a tent with Rick, not me.’
15
