Mkoma Bay - Turtle Run
The reason Mkoma Bay was such a treat for the kids had very
little to do with the tented lodging, the pool, or the beach. Granted, by now
they know that any vacation away from home brings certain perks, chief among
them that they have easy access to their parents and are usually staying in the
same room with them. What clinches Mkoma Bay being a success for them was the
abundance of critters.
Stepping outside of our tented lodge, we quickly realize that the adjoining lot is a virtual farm. In the morning we watch
Holstein cows grazing on the other side of the fence, chickens dashing
throughout the perimeter, and little goats engaged in horse (or goat) play. A
full farm right by the beach…it reminds me of a trip I took years ago to the
Gulf Coast of Texas, where I found potbellied pigs catching some rays on the sandy
beach.
There were a couple of guests from Ohio who arrived for one reason and one reason only: bird watching. The guy's a professor who has a cheat sheet on his smartphone. This is a list of birds not only native to Africa or Tanzania, but specifically the Mkoma Bay area.
Behind the kitchen, we quickly find an entire army of cats—at least a dozen of them, including three or four kittens. These cats are very well fed and can always count on treats, or leftover scraps from the kitchen to keep them purring.
Everywhere on the campground are monkeys, long-tailed rhesus monkeys performing special acrobatic feats in the trees. Occasionally, these fearless monkeys pause to mock the lodge guests making their way to the beach.
Yet all of these animals pale in comparison to the featured presentation on a nearby beach—the hatching of the sea turtle eggs.
There were a couple of guests from Ohio who arrived for one reason and one reason only: bird watching. The guy's a professor who has a cheat sheet on his smartphone. This is a list of birds not only native to Africa or Tanzania, but specifically the Mkoma Bay area.
Behind the kitchen, we quickly find an entire army of cats—at least a dozen of them, including three or four kittens. These cats are very well fed and can always count on treats, or leftover scraps from the kitchen to keep them purring.
Everywhere on the campground are monkeys, long-tailed rhesus monkeys performing special acrobatic feats in the trees. Occasionally, these fearless monkeys pause to mock the lodge guests making their way to the beach.
Yet all of these animals pale in comparison to the featured presentation on a nearby beach—the hatching of the sea turtle eggs.
To get to the beach, we get up very early in the morning and
drive through rugged terrain in a couple of 4x4’s. Once we reach the place,
we hop out of the cars and cross through the yard of a German who spends half of the year (the warm months) in Tanzania while spending the other half in
the Chiemsee area south of Munich.
On to the presentation. We reach the sandy beach, one of the property’s workers lifts a lid protecting the turtle eggs, and there they are… almost eight freshly hatched turtles who climb out of the hole and commence their mad dash to the beach (photo). The baby turtles themselves are equipped with little flipper legs designed to swim once (and if) they reach the water.
Many turtles usually don’t make it. There are plenty of sea eagles hovering above, just waiting to swoop in and grab a little appetizer for breakfast before skimming the ocean surface for the main course (fish). If the eagles don’t get them, there is always a possibility that one of the babies will flip over on its shell and fry in the hot Tanzanian sun. Their battle for survival doesn’t stop there. Even if they make it to the water, there are plenty of bigger animals in the water capable of swallowing these turtles whole.
The best experience is watching the turtles scramble out of the hole and run for the water, their instincts telling them exactly where they need to go. One by one, the turtles reach the ocean where they are lapped up by the incoming waves. Supposedly, the survivors among the bunch will return to lay eggs of their own when their time has come. A remarkable spectacle.
Eventually, it’s time for us to head out, and on the way back to Dar es Salaam I manage to get a nice overhead picture of Oyster Bay, the place we call home in Dar.
On to the presentation. We reach the sandy beach, one of the property’s workers lifts a lid protecting the turtle eggs, and there they are… almost eight freshly hatched turtles who climb out of the hole and commence their mad dash to the beach (photo). The baby turtles themselves are equipped with little flipper legs designed to swim once (and if) they reach the water.
Many turtles usually don’t make it. There are plenty of sea eagles hovering above, just waiting to swoop in and grab a little appetizer for breakfast before skimming the ocean surface for the main course (fish). If the eagles don’t get them, there is always a possibility that one of the babies will flip over on its shell and fry in the hot Tanzanian sun. Their battle for survival doesn’t stop there. Even if they make it to the water, there are plenty of bigger animals in the water capable of swallowing these turtles whole.
The best experience is watching the turtles scramble out of the hole and run for the water, their instincts telling them exactly where they need to go. One by one, the turtles reach the ocean where they are lapped up by the incoming waves. Supposedly, the survivors among the bunch will return to lay eggs of their own when their time has come. A remarkable spectacle.
Eventually, it’s time for us to head out, and on the way back to Dar es Salaam I manage to get a nice overhead picture of Oyster Bay, the place we call home in Dar.
All in all, a nice relaxing trip and only a precursor of
things to come in Tanzania. Once the rainy season is over, we should have our
sights set on any of the game parks in the country, maybe even the Serengeti. Say bye-bye, sea turtles, and hello crocodiles and lions.
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