It was her first nesting session and she was ready for turtle love. She had been down for almost an hour feeding on moon jellies, and it was now time to surface, she paid no attention to the sound of the boat that was headed straight for her. When she popped her head out of water, all of a sudden she saw the bow, cutting though the water like a knife. She quickly ducked her head and dove as fast as she could get a full breath of air. The pressure wave from the bow of the fast moving boat helped to push her away, but not quite enough. The tail end of her shell was hit by the keel of the boat it crushed her shell and flipped her over just in time for the propeller to come along and chop away at the side of her shell just under her right filipper. Boomer was knocked unconscious by the bow and sank 100 ft. to the ocean floor. She came to about 30 minutes later dizzy, confused, in a lot of pain, and in desperate need of air, precious air. She swam up towards the surface as fast as she could her little heart was pumping like crazy, with an 8 inch open wound in her side, as she swam blood pumped from her body into the current. It looked like little clouds of green smoke. (That's right turtle blood is green underwater and so is yours) The little clouds of green slowly dissolved in the water but the smell kept going with the northbound Gulf Stream current flow. Meanwhile about 500 yards to the north Toro hovered in mid water at about 50 ft. off the bottom enjoying the current; he liked the way it felt when the current went into his mouth and out through his gills. He moved his tail slowly and methodically just enough to hold position against the current. He would open his mouth and small parasitic fish would be blasted out of his gills. They would look around as if they had just realized how vulnerable they are outside and swam quickly back into Toro's gills, only to be blasted out again. These Parasitic fish are good parasites. They don't hurt the shark; in fact you might say these little parasitic fish are the dental floss of the sea. Toro was a bull shark his last meal was about a month ago when a fisherman got a 60 pound tuna almost to the boat, and Toro heard the distress vibrations. Toro disconnected that tuna body from his head in one powerful bite. With the head gone there was about 50 pounds of delicious bloody meat left. Some sharks as small as 6 feet have 2000 pounds of jaw pressure. Toro was 15 feet long. He had enough power in his jaws to bite right through the bone, or the hard shell of a turtle. The little parasitic fish had finished cleaning the last bit of tuna particles from the last row of Toro's teeth two weeks ago. He wasn't really hungry. But then he tasted it, blood, sweet, sweet blood. Blood means that some creature is weak and vulnerable. And the weak and vulnerable must die, so that the strong and powerful may live. All of a sudden Toro had the need to feed. His posture changed. He went from a docile slow moving relaxed creature to a predator on the hunt. Toro began swimming 5kts against a 2kt current southbound. Finely Boomer made it to the surface gasping for air precious air. Without it you die and boomer wanted to live, but she was still bleeding. Somehow boomer must have known that if you bleed too much you die. She stayed on the surface for a while, long enough to catch her breath. Then she slowed her heart rate down as she dove again. She swam north because it was just so much easier to swim with the current. With the current pushing her she was making 3kt. She had been swimming for about 5 minutes or so when she saw a shipwreck. It was the wreck of the Mercedes that was sunk as an artificial reef. The Mercedes used to sit on the bottom in the perfect upright position. Until Hurricane Andrew came along. The storm surge lifted the 190 feet freighter and slammed it on to the bottom over and over again. Like an Island boy opening a coconut. Andrew cracked the 2 inch sheets of steel open like it was nothing. The bow still sits vertical, the stern is lifted over to one side with a gaping hole in the side of the wreck, the perfect place for Boomer to take a nap. She climbed inside and tucked herself into a corner. Her heart rate slowed down to almost nothing. Toro was in such a hurry he swam right past the wreck before he noticed that he no longer tasted turtle blood he turned around and went back towards the wreck. He circled above it a few times tasting the water. Then he hovered for a moment, looked down, and dove. He swam around the bottom of the ship tasting the water all the way still no sign of blood sweet, sweet, sweet blood. He became angry and frustrated. He pointed his pectoral fins down and arched his back. After making one more circle around the top fo the wreck, he quickly turned and swam away, as boomer slowly drifted off to sleep. After about a two hour nap Boomer woke up hungry. Then she felt an incredible piercing pain under her right flipper. She jumped up off the bottom and looked down. Crabs they must have thought she was dead, so they began having dinner. But Boomer wasn't dead Boomer wanted to live. And if you want to live, you gotta eat. Boomer attacked the first crab by biting right though the middle of the shell so quickly that one of the claws did not know that the rest of the crab was gone. It was still hanging on to Boomers back when she chomped down on Crab number 2. Crab number 3 got smart and scurried off before Boomer could finish with crab number 2. The crabs thought they had found an easy meal, instead they became one. In the thick of the scuffle the silt was stirred up. The silt was filled with little snails. The little snails were contaminated with trematodes more comely known as flatworm or flukes. Anyway, it was time for Boomer to breath again. For the next few weeks Boomer just kept on doing what sea turtles do; run and hide from predators find food, and avoid being hit by another boat. She was doing pretty well considering. After about a month the tale end of her shell had started to heal. But the 8 inch gash just under her right flipper was getting infected. The trematodes had attached to the soft juicy flesh of the open wound. They got fat on Boomers blood and reproduced very fast. Trematodes more comely known as flat worms or flukes are parasites. Not good parasites like the little fish in Toro's gills. These guys are the succubus of the sea. They suck the very life out of the host slowly, one drop at a time. After about a month and a half the parasites had migrated into Boomer's internal organs and she was getting weak. She did not think she had the strength to run from predators any more so she swam in close to shore. But she was getting weaker and weaker; Boomer was dying. She went in very close to shore were she found a 6 inch pipe sticking up out of the bottom with some filters attached to it. She wedged her body between one of the filters and the seafloor and accepted that is was time to die. That day I happened to be doing my evening swim. There was a couple on the sandbar getting frisky as I swam past. I went out to do an inspection of the saltwater intake. That's when I saw it a dead sea turtle stuck under one of the intake filters. I thought at first, man how did that happen. Then I realized it does not matter how it happened it just has to be removed. So I swam down for a closer look and realized it was alive, but barely. The water was only twelve feet deep, so after surfacing and catching a good breath of air, I free dove again and grabbed it by the shell. It seemed so fragile it felt as if the shell was coming apart in my hand. Boomers head flopped from side to side and her flippers moved slowly as if she was trying to swim. I swam her back to the beach as I swam past the frisky couple. I asked the man to help me, and he said, "Help you what?" As he saw me splashing and I replied, "I have an injured sea turtle just help me get my fins off as I get closer to shore. I did not want to take my hand off of Boomer because I was afraid she might swim away. After he helped me to get my fins off I picked Boomer up she seemed to weigh just a little under 100 pounds. It was a little bit of struggle walking up the beach with her. I gently set her down, in the back of one of the lifeguard dune buggies. At first, I thought some of her intestines where hanging out that's when I said to Pete the lifeguard this turtle is going to die. Then I saw the fat thumb size intestine looking thing that seemed to be moving independently of Boomer. Upon closer investigation I realized these were just fat juicy parasites. I asked Pete do you have any pliers or tweezer. He gave me a pair of needle nosed pliers. I started plucking away at the parasites. Pete called Nova. Nova operates the sea turtle egg recovery team. They come out every morning comb the beach looking for fresh turtle nest. After about an hour, two students from Nova showed up and started gathering information I picked Boomer up again so they could take pictures of her wounds. After they took a few measurements of the size of her shell. I went back to picking parasites. One of the students noticed that every now and then Boomer would jump and squirm as if she felt pain as I plucked a parasite away. The students said, oh it looks like you're hurting her and I said maybe so,but I think she will be better off without these things. This went on for another two hours until they got confirmation to take Boomer down to the Key Biscayne Turtle facility. By the time Boomer got to the Turtle Facility she was in pretty bad shape. She had lost a lot of blood, which caused an iron deficiency. And there was no telling how much of her internal organs the trematodes had destroyed. The resident veterinarian had other patients, and no time to invest in a sea turtle that was probably going to die anyway. One of the students asked the doctor, is she going to make it? She replied, I don't know. She may be too weak to eat and if she doesn't eat she will die. The veterian put some food down next to Boomers mouth. A mush scoop of crabmeat mixed with seaweed. Boomer's eyes were closed and she was barely breathing. The doctor said if she does not eat she would have to be euthanized. The student asked, "Will it hurt?" No just one injection she won't feel a thing. Now maybe it was the smell of the food going into Boomers nostrils. Or maybe Boomer was smart enough to know that they were talking about putting her to sleep. Anyway her eyes opened and she attacked the food. It was apparent that Boomer wanted to live. Over the weeks to come Boomer got better and stronger. With the help of antibiotics all of the trematodes died. There was a little bit of liver damage. After three months her injuries were completely healed and they kept her for 30 more days for observation. Then she was released off the coast of Key Biscayne. They took her to the beach and put her down in the sand about ten feet from the surf. As soon as her flippers hit the sand they were moving in that swimming motion and she quickly made it to the water. She swam offshore for about 50 yards or so and stopped. Then she looked back at the beach, and swam around in a circle. She slowly turned to one side and stuck her left fin out of the water. You know I think in turtle talk that means thank you and goodbye. I don't know where Boomer is right now. But I hope she has a good mating season next year. And I would be willing to bet that if Boomer could talk to us. She would say, " when life gets tough don't give up. Keep on keeping on. That is, if you want to live."
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