Here’s another boots on the ground type—only this one wears sandals.

I met Sharon Maxwell nine years ago while visiting a beach—that sliver of heaven in northwest Florida. A dead loggerhead turtle had washed ashore looking as though it had just come out of a disposal, not the ocean. I called the Fort Walton Beach Patrol and minutes later, Sharon (a volunteer from South Walton Turtle Watch) appeared. She carried a camera and wore a tool bag on her hip.

Also, rings on her fingers, toes and a few tattoos. All turtles.

She was all business as she set about her work taking pictures and measuring the turtle. Sadly, the cause of death Sharon determined was a jet ski or motorboat. I put her name and phone number in a file and tucked it away for future use.

Returning to the same beach recently, I planned on looking Sharon up. After having been in Louisiana and watching the worst environment disaster in history (BP) unfold since spring of 2010, I was anxious to hear what was happening on the beaches of Florida from Sharon’s point of view.

Notable already was the lack of bird life. Even after a tropical disturbance had stirred up the Gulf for days, depositing thousands of nudiebranchs (slugs without a shell) along the shoreline, the birds had not come.

Early one morning, I spotted a woman in uniform walking the beach, taking photographs, and come to find out, noting the same thing. “This is dinner out here!” she said, pointing to the dead slugs. “You gotta wonder why birds aren’t swooping down for a feast.”

The next morning, I rang Sharon Maxwell. She’d been walking the beaches since the crack of dawn and was hungry. She suggested we meet at Cacoons, where we sat at an outdoor table, eating breakfast.

“Birds don’t eat nudiebranchs,” Sharon explained. While she hadn’t seen many terns and seagulls—plovers, skimmers and willets had been sighted in the last two weeks. Then we talked turtles.

First, she gave me a few facts—one most interesting. In this location, loggerheads are the most common turtle—greens, the second. Kemp’s ridleys are rare but a few have been sighted. Turtles return to where they were born, every two to three years. Sex is determined by the temperature of sand! Because white sand is hotter there are more males in this area.

She started “walking” in 1994, looking on the beach for turtle tracks. She never walked on the water’s edge but at the high tide line. “If there are tracks going in and out,” Sharon explained, “You’ll see a nest site.”

During evening, after a hatchling comes up out of the sand (piping) they crawl towards the brightest horizon. Hopefully, this is reflected light off the ocean and not artificial light, which is why, if you care for turtles, you’ll use an LED light when strolling the beach.

If a hatchling makes it to sea (no small feat), for the first 24 to 48 hours they swim toward Sargasso weed, where they live for five years. A loggerhead can live to be 25 years old and weigh up to 250 pounds. Greens, up to 300 pounds.

Along with tracking the location and number of turtle nests—Sharon moves them (eggs).

“Preparing” these eggs involves know how. Transporting them requires TLC from everyone along the way. They are packed in a cooler, where sand is put on the bottom and along the side, extra sand placed on top.

The cooler is then FedExed from Panama City and delivered to Cape Canaveral. The eggs hatch in the cooler and are released on the East Coast. Sharon was pleased to report that recently, 57 eggs had been prepared, moved AND, had hatched.

Sharon handed me a fist full of flyers where at the top in bold print—it connects the dots immediately.

The beach where you come to play is where I come to lay my eggs

On a single page, it describes the awesome journey of the female turtle laying her eggs and another, more awesome journey that her hatchlings make to sea. Using little loggerheads as bullet points, it lists six ways that you can help them make this journey. One already mentioned, ALL simple and very doable for beach goers and businesses alike.

1). After your day at the beach, smooth out our sand castles and fill in holes you have created.

2). Turn off any lights that can be seen from the beach. Close blinds and curtains for inside lights.

3). Use only flashlights with red film over them that are turtle friendly — cover yours please.

4). Sea turtles may eat plastic, mistaking it for one of their favorite foods: jellyfish. Ingested plastic can kill sea turtles. Please dispose of any plastic you find when visiting the beach. (Note the “you find.")

5). Remove any beach chairs, tents, toys, umbrellas, kayaks, floats or obstacles from sunset to sunrise.

In a nutshell, pick up your shit and leave things as close to how nature made them before you arrived.

I shared with Sharon one of my experiences in Louisiana—about some guys who gave me a boat ride to Grand Isle but who turned out to be bull-shitters just wanting to make a buck.

“Where the hell’s THEIR (the turtles) ‘vessel of opportunity!?’” she bristled.

Great point.

“This is the year of dealing,” Sharon continued. “A year where you just have to deal with what is. Others make the decisions — you just work hard to complete the project.”

She thought most of these decisions were made by people who are “NOT on the ground.” “EXPERTS,” Sharon said, “I LOOOOVE experts.”

We laughed. Sharon Maxwell’s a woman I could walk with.