by Tyler Zetterstrom

This weekend started off with a plan. A plan, that had been postponed and harbored in the mind of a passionate individual. An individual, caught in a torrent of experiences presenting the music of life's miraculous creations. Flourishing imagination presenting new unbounded experiences. Some of these possibly yet to come; others possibly to keep this individual from being limited to the presentable.

That individual is I. The plan... to retrieve a dead turtle that I hid under a rock a week prior. Reasoning... such a magical piece of work from nature's canvas is about to be lost to the cycle of life, while it still has the potential to inspire and awe, if none other, myself. I picture this creature's armor laid out respectively in commemoration of it's time here and as a reminder of the other's we share this delicate planet with. The unique print of this turtle's shell is like no other, yet amazingly confined to a general pattern imprinted upon all of it's species.

I am only shaking my head at myself for the sheer folly of not arranging to have an underwater camera for this trip. To have managed to keep an image of this creature in its full form to share with you all would have made my day. Alas the picture in my mind may have to serve me for quite some time.

So, the idea all week was to arrange retrieval of this turtle, supported by the presence of the local police who would verify that we had not killed the animal and therefore would give us clearance to remove it from the water. This did not happen. The weekend came and it still had not be arranged. No problem however. I am aware of the rather cumbersome nature of this odd request.

Friday at work ends and our Turkish co-workers are mentioning something about a 'picnic' somewhere towards Kyrenia. Well here is the replacement plan. This should be interesting. What would a Turkish picnic be all about? Will it resemble our North American idea of a picnic? Simple questions... It became apparent when our hosts did not pick us up until somewhere around 9:30pm that 'picnic' was not going to be a meal in daylight under a tree. Ok so it is a meal in the shadow of night under a tree. Well yes, but high up in the mountain pass where the air is significantly cooler. Oh it is wonderful. Finally we can reside in natural temperatures of roughly room temperature. We are pleasantly surprised at our picnic location and amazed by the number of people who are sitting at tables cooking over small barbecues.

It occurs to me that my reservation I had made earlier for a guesthouse in Kyrenia may run into a hitch. I was told by Mentes (the owner) to retrieve the key by 11:00 pm. It is now after 10:00pm. Luckily another co-worker is on her way from Kyrenia, so calling her, she ends up picking up my key and reserving a place for Haneef and Tanya. Soon we Canadians take over the failing attempt to light the small coal barbecue. Just when all hopes were fading, the coals ignite. This surely due in part to my controlled lengthy freediving/yoga exhales (kidding). On the barbecue goes what... none other than shis kebab and every other concoction of meat. Be it restaurant, picnic, fast food, if you are in Northern Cyprus, it is nonetheless 'shis kebab' or some slight variant (ie chicken shish).

As the night progresses, more people arrive and the picnic is at full pace. We spend the time eating, drinking, and to top it all off, playing poker with stones from the surrounding area. Haneef and I cleaned out everybody and were very wealthy... stonewise by the end. It was a nice time and things wrapped up around 2:00am or later. We finally decide to turn in and down the mountain we drive to our awaiting beds... myself, utterly full and exhausted.

[Saturday June 20, 2003]

Saturday morning I find myself in Kyrenia once more. Not much of a plan left in sight. The man with the potential to arrange the plan has left for Istanbul and is not expected to return until Monday. Armed with this I begin exploring possibilities for a weekend based out of Kyrenia. There was talk amongst my colleagues to head west along the sea shore to some more rural areas. I soon brush this idea off since once again Tanya and Haneef, who have come to Kyrenia as well, will most likely lazy about long past the time of which I desire to be active.

After picking up some cheese pastries and fresh apricots for breakfast, I sit with Mentes and discuss possibilities. I find my motivation to get moving slowly dwindling away as I settle into the comfort of talking idly with Mentes. Using all my will power I make a decision to move on and head for the water. Mentes explains that I can reach a beach club if I head east along the sea shore road via a free shuttle. I am not very interested in the beach club, however the ability to be shuttled out of town and left to roam new sea shores based from their does not sound all that bad.

I pack up and get prepared. As I am about to leave, it suddenly strikes my mind that one of the fellows in charge of the company where I am working is left alone in Kyrenia and previously we had mentioned the possibility of getting together on the weekend. Not sure whether any final expectation existed, I figured I had better call him. Borrowing Mentes' phone I get Haluk on the phone and sure enough he was just in the process of looking for Haneef's mobile number to find out what our plan was and especially whether I was still on for attempting the retrieval of the turtle. I am slightly caught off guard by this since I am fairly certain nothing was arranged. But this fellow has grown up here so why not just go along with it? Ok.

A short while later Haluk picks me up in a car and we drive down to the Castle in Kyrenia. He drives down the back side and we come out at the end of the main harbor walk way that skirts the front of the castle. This is a common place where people take a dip in the water but I have rarely seen any Westerners in this area. From this point I have to make a bit of a swim out of the harbor to the other side of the breakwater. Haluk is about to get ready for the swim as well but I tell him that it is a fair distance away and I will not need help. I had found the turtle to be very hydro dynamic the previous weekend. So the idea was, upon my arrival back at the car Haluk would meet me at the water's edge with some garbage bags. We would wrap up the turtle and shuffle it back to the car's trunk.

So off I go into the water. As always I am glad just to be in the water. I wore my fins to speed up the long swim and for a hasty return. Bolting my way out of the harbor, I soon make it around the breakwater. I immediately encounter a slight current that cuts my speed by a quarter. I use it as encouragement to get a good morning's workout. It takes me somewhere between 7-10 minutes to arrive at the spot where I left the turtle.

Standing on the rocks, as always with their dramatically long fish poles, are the fishermen persistently casting and waiting for the fish to bite. It always amazes me when I think about what it must be like from their perspective. To constantly be driven by the faith that the fish are lingering down below or that they are passing by on their route along the shorelines. Never actually seeing what the fish look like in their environment or witnessing how many are present at one time.  I wonder would they change their approach at all if they saw what I see. It is just a passing perspective.

I dive down into the clear waters from the surface already being able to see the rocks where I have hidden the turtle below. I quickly locate the opening formed by the large boulders settled upon one another. As I play in my mind what scene will come before my eyes, I am brought up short by the sudden sight of emptiness. Pausing in disbelief I look around for the possibility that I have come to a similar but different location. Nothing confirming this I play with the idea that somehow a current has forced it further into the rocks and it may be just out of my sight from the current angle. Checking thoroughly I find this not to be the case and decide to go up for air.

At the surface I am quite disappointed and still wanting to believe it is just a mistake I spend the next 7-10 minutes scouring the bottom looking for other enclosures. Although I never found the turtle, I did see some amazing little fish I had not seen previously. They were radiantly sparkling, ablaze with blue and purple hues as though they were actually projecting intense light. Swimming in small schools these fish were merely a centimeter long and barely distinguishable in any form other than the intensity of the color. I wanted to spend time watching these fish however I began to be concerned that Haluk was waiting and I had not found the turtle to return to him with. It occurs to me that most likely a spearfisherman has come along and while hunting under the rocks for fish, has spotted my find and recovered it for himself. The other option that Haluk presents is that the current could have somehow taken the turtle out of its enclosure. This I find unlikely since the rocks formed a lower bit of a gate and this animal was huge.

While pondering my options, I remembered that on the same day that I had found the dead turtle I had made another swim out in a similar area and had come across another one. I had spotted it returning from a long swim off shore. This was moments after a coast guard boat had narrowed in on me and after a broken attempt at communicating with them, I heard the words "no swimming". These guys looked serious so who am I to disagree. After all I was checking out some big tank floating in the water and maybe there was a particular reason I should not be in the area. Can you believe they told me no swimming yet left me there, under their watchful gaze, to make the swim back on my own. I was thinking the least they could have done was given me a boat ride.

So it was on this swim back when I spotted the second dead turtle. After checking if the boat was far enough away that they probably would not notice my disappearing act, I plunged down and confirmed the find to be a turtle. I had quickly returned to the surface continuing my swim back to shore as though I had never stopped.

Now back to my current dilemma. I am imagining that nobody would swim out to where I spotted the second turtle, so chances are it is still there resting at the bottom as I found it. After a little hesitancy I finally decide if I sprint out there and recover the turtle Haluk will barely notice the time difference yet the reward would be worthy. Upon my arrival I wonder at the likelihood of even being able to pin point the spot. There are no markers that I had other than a line from where the boat intercepted me and where I returned to shore. With currents this could be a very non-linear line. Under water there is a bit of a marker, being the sudden crops of seaweed beds and small reefs. Nothing to narrow it down after a one-time visit.

So I spot the familiar seaweed and just as the futility of the situation begins to sink in, I spot it. Something looks different however. The turtle appears to be suspended slightly off the bottom. I slow down and attempt to relax in preparation for the dive down. My heart is racing and it is hot. Thinking that I just need to go down and grab the thing I decide against much further preparation. Down I go. As I begin my dive I feel my ears go sticky. I can not seem to get them to release. As I sit at around five meters trying to equalize my ears to no avail, I begin noticing some details. Namely the turtle is suspended above the bottom in some kind of net. This net is fanning out around the bottom in a huge circle. Also the turtle looks different than the one I hid near to shore. It has big white blotches on the back of the shell. It is also somewhat smaller than the other but still very large. I am struck with sorrow that this wonderful creature's life has ended in such a wasteful way. Without much preparation I shortly decide to return to the surface.

I begin kicking my way up, when suddenly I see movement below me. The turtle and the net begin to rise up towards me. Madly the little fins of the turtle struggle to take it up to the surface. It makes it about ten feet up before it is halted by the net. I am totally struck with disbelief now! I hit the surface for air and immediately look down to the poor animal. It has reached the apex of its efforts and I watch it give in, without further movement, to the inevitable. The net drags the turtle back down to the resting position where I spotted it upon arrival. Oh my lord. This animal is alive but trapped under water. I see it sitting there without motion. It occurs to me that this animal is conserving its oxygen in knowing the futility of its situation. Seeing my attempt to come towards it somehow appeared to have triggered its hopes for a new possibility. And now floating at the surface I know what is about to happen.

Divers will most likely be able to relate to the situation at hand much more easily than others but I will attempt to explain a little. Everybody is different when it comes to equalizing the ears but in general once your ears begin to give you trouble, you can generally expect them to continue to do so for the rest of your dive (basically you are finished until you rest for a period of time). Anyhow whether this is true for the majority or not it does not matter. I have good experience with these ears of mine by now. What I do know is that often my ears begin to get sticky (difficult to equalize) after much exertion and/or numerous dives. And when this happens I can try time and time again to no avail. So imagine you have a being's life laid before you and what is stopping you from saving this life? Tired inner ears and ten meters of water!

What is on my side for hope? I have just found my ears to be sticky on this first dive which means they may still have enough give so that an immediate dive following, I may be lucky enough to squeeze out one more dive. As well I realize that most likely my ears are reacting to the swim out here. This means maybe they are not all that tired and with a little relaxation they may loosen up again. There is hope. All that keeps running through my mind is, "I have to save this animal." Yet this is immediately followed with the rational to keep me in check, "There is a high chance that time and circumstances are against you." I hope that my ears will clear soon. I hope that the turtle does not struggle again. I hope that my approach does not make it feel the need to repeat its attempts to swim for the surface. I hope that it has plenty of oxygen. I hope it can hold its breath much longer than I. I hope that I have the chance to attempt to free it from the net. I hope it does not get scared of me. I hope it does not attack me and bite me with its huge beaked mouth. All these things literally enter my mind on the surface that first time.

I try to calm down. I breathe as I would normally. I try to let go of the urgency of the situation. I try to take my time. I do not think it worked. Time does not seem to be consistent at this point. I plunge under the water immediately attempting to initiate constant equalizing of my ears. At first I feel like they must be staying clear and I begin my decent. A few further kicks and they appear to be equalizing fine. I am approaching the entangled creature and can see it quite clearly as I come within eight feet of it. Suddenly I feel the tightness fall upon my ears. They become totally blocked up. I can almost reach out to the animal. I rise a little trying to clear my ears. Nothing. I stare at its presence immediately below me. What helplessness for both of us. I fear the inevitable result of this failure. Each successive attempt will only get worse. Hanging around down here is not increasing my chances however, so up I go to persist until it is over one way or another.

At the surface I try everything. And sure as day, my dives get shallower and shallower. To the point where I put my head under the surface, no more than the length of my body, and already I can feel the locked passage ways of my ears. After seven or so such dive attempts I am now plagued by another problem. I am frustrated. I stare down at the creature and can barely comprehend the reality of the possibility that I may not be able to assist. I quickly try to adjust my thought process and emotions. Otherwise my heart is rising in tempo, my relaxation is hindered, my likelihood of pushing too hard is increased, and my general expectations on myself will only cause damage. I am able to limit myself to mild curses under my breath, directed partially at the water shield below me, partially at the people using these nets, and partially at my inconsistent physiology.

One more time I tell myself I have to get down there. There must be a way. My mind is suddenly struck with a thought. I am a hands free equalizer. That means I do not generally pinch my nose with my fingers in the attempts to equalize. If I am under the water and having difficulty I sometimes revert to this technique however to assist. Now I am thinking that, if I do this technique from the very moment I dip under the surface, there is a slight possibility that I may be able to keep squeezing out just enough of an equalization all the way down. It is worth a try at this point.

Once again, relaxing, breathing, and letting go of everything else. I grab my nose and with a big breath down under I go. Immediately my ears are plugged but I squeeze and wiggle my jaw and "SQUEEK". The start of a little air makes it into my ears. Hope floods my mind. I continually supply the minute pressure, attempting to open a steady stream past the blockage. All I can hear is the continual squeal as the air makes it way into the compressed chamber. My decent continues. I forget about the turtle so as not to distract me. I am going straight to the bottom. If I actually succeed in getting there, then I can come up the small amount to the level of the turtle. All goes as planned. I have reached the bottom although it was a continual struggle on the way down. I look up and approach the turtle. Now I am fighting the time of my own oxygen stores. I don't even care to imagine whether I will have another chance to get down here.

As I suspend myself in front of the turtle I can clearly see that the net is tangled around it much worse than I had imagined. The turtle's head is facing the surface and the bottom of it body is facing myself. The netting is caught around the turtle's neck, both front fins/claws, the shell, and the rear fins. I reach out for the right side of the turtle's shell, in an attempt to stabilize ourselves in the hopes that my other hand can begin the removal of the netting. Immediately I pull back as the head swings towards me, beak gaping in an attempt on my hand. I was afraid of this. I am not about to be dissuaded. I reach out again, this time slightly more cautiously. However, I immediately sense that it is not going to try this act again and I confidently grab hold of it. I had suddenly felt like it understood why I was here. And in its sudden docility it is hard not to imagine that it was so.

I begin with its front fins. The singular large claw on each fin is effectively caught in the net and ridges along the fins make it rather difficult to slide the fins out of the netting. Now I hope you can imagine the plan difficulty of maintaining a position under water with no buoyancy control or stabilizers other than my fins while trying to use force on a delicate object within your grasp. As I free the odd bit of netting I have to adjust and maintain the position of the turtle in an attempt to keep it from getting re-tangled. My mind is clear as day. Watching the ridiculousness of the situation. Already seeing the potential ends of this situation. I know shortly I may be leaving this animal partially released from the netting. I know that I may not be able to get back down to release the rest of it. I know that it may re-tangle itself prior to my return even if I do make it back. I just keep focusing on removing bit after bit.

While maneuvering the turtle into position and attempting to slide netting off of the turtle, suddenly I feel some of the netting give with a jolt. It broke. I immediately begin ripping netting from some of the more difficult areas. I have to be careful however since I only have two hands. If I am pulling with both hands then that leaves the possibility of the netting cutting into the skin of the turtle or breaking a bone of one of the fins. In hindsight that may have been a small price to pay and possibly their skin is very durable. At the time sitting fourty-five to fifty feet under the water I tore off what I could and then went back to delicately removing the netting over the turtles head. When I had the head and neck free, I focused again on the fins. There were still a few threads tangled on the fins. I grabbed one of the fins and the net, moving them in opposite directions. It was amazing how limp the creature's fins were. This whole time it had gave in to my every movement of its body parts. It slipped into my mind that maybe it is dying.

Finally I had the upper portions of the animal out of the net as far as I could tell. It is hard to describe what it was like from that perspective, but I definitely was not sure of whether I had missed something. I quickly scanned the lower fins but decided I might as well just try to push the turtle up a little and maybe it would come free of the last bits. To my brilliant surprise, I watched as the turtle drifted free of the net and with a little shove from my hand the turtle sprung to life. Springer was going home. With quick strokes of its fins I watched the turtle head for the air.

I began a few kicks to follow and then felt some resistance. Looking down I saw that the net had fallen on my fins either after freeing the turtle or while I was trying to maintain my position while working on the net. My mind recognized this danger immediately, so I stopped any kicking and reached down to remove my fins. As my hand touched my fins I saw that mainly the net was just resting on my fins with the odd piece just slightly hindering upward movement. I grabbed the netting and pushed it away as I let myself sink down a little. The net was free and now it was my turn to go for the surface. Trust me I learned something from this. A net under any circumstances means danger to everybody. I took it for granted as I became completely focused on the turtle and distracted from my own safety. I guess first aid approach even applies to turtles. Assess the environment first!

So I reach the surface shortly after the turtle did. I even was witness to it breaking the surface and take a huge gasp of air as its beak opened in full. Upon regaining my breath I was amazed to find the turtle right there beside me. Swimming slowly away from me six feet under the surface, the turtle was only using its front fins and was constantly watching me. I swam along-side Springer absorbing all of its details and the pleasure to have this opportunity. The white blotches on its shell were more than mere markings. They were three or four huge barnacles! Man those barnacles must have had a ride.

Swimming slowly, the turtle continued without using his rear fins. I began to speculate about the possibly that they had been hurt in the entanglement. Pictures formed in my mind of the turtle no longer having the nimbleness to catch its food or to avoid predators, if there are any here. I knew things would go as they were supposed to so I turned my focus back to enjoying the simple moment.

I wondered at what Springer was experiencing towards me. With all my romantic wishes for those possibilities I believe the most likely is that Springer experienced a general acceptance that it had survived and somehow this creature had assisted in this. In the least this large animal was not very aggressive towards it and did not appear to be overly dexterous. Which probably meant it foraged on vegetation and bottom dwellers. How else would it survive? Unless it had some secretive ability that had yet to be seen. It obviously relied on returning to the surface for air as well. Yet it seemed clumsy in its motions and extremely slow at the surface. And it did not seem to show any desire to stay under the water long where it would obviously be much safer. What a poor creature. Oh well it is probably the way it is for a reason.

I spent around ten minutes swimming around with Springer and was witness twice more to him reaching the surface for a large gulp of air. The turtle lazily swam under the water for minutes at a time. I don't imagine we would feel the least urge to do so if we had just narrowly escaped drowning. I eventually let go of my overwhelming desire to follow this animal wherever it may go and returned my thoughts to the patiently waiting Haluk. I swam directly towards the turtle. I half hoped it would let me come extremely close showing its own interest in me. I half hoped it would flee with a show of its strength and ability to survive. Sure enough for the first time it put in a full stroke with all of its fins and shot a safe distance away from me. I was glad. Springer would be alright. I left the turtle to be on its way as I went mine.

This was truly a spectacular few moments for myself and I imagine for Springer. What had begun as a quest to remove the dead from below had instead turned full circle into removing the alive from below. I imagine it took around two minutes from the time I dove down to the turtle to the time I resurfaced. Now often people make statements to me such as "you must go down and up immediately not getting a chance to see much" or "why don't you scuba dive?". Well next time somebody asks me this I think I now have a clear way of expressing myself in a way that is more easily relatable. Those moments are a lifetime of pictures in my mind, feelings, and thoughts.

I returned empty handed to Haluk much later than he had anticipated. When he greeted me at the shore I said, "I am sorry I could not bring you the turtle but instead I brought a story to tell."

This was the start of a wonderful day and weekend. It was still morning and I was not done yet...