OPTICS SHORTAGE OF SAND: EUROPE’S IMPACT ON CAPE VERDE’S TURTLE CRISIS Plastic pollution, mass tourism, climate change and poaching all put pressure on a fragile ecosystem, revealing how local challenges often stem from global problems. Text and photos by LUIGI AVANTAGGIATO in Boa Vista, Cape Verde Above, Emilio Garcia Landim, a 29-year-old ranger of Fundação Tartaruga, spots a sea turtle on the beach of Lacacão on Cape Verde’s Boa Vista island. Next, tracks left by a turtle looking for a nesting site along the plastic-infested beach of Porto Ferreira. Plastic reaches the island carried by ocean currents, disturbing the nesting of reptiles that die of dehydration and disorientation looking for a clean place to lay their eggs. Bottom, the carcass of a turtle that died of dehydration, along Varandinha beach. Every summer, thousands of sea turtles climb the beaches of Boa Vista, Cape Verde, for a millennia-old ritual: nesting. Today, however, this process is threatened by several factors, putting one of the world’s largest Caretta caretta turtle colonies at risk. Poaching, pollution, mass tourism and climate change are all putting pressure on this fragile ecosystem, revealing how local challenges often stem from global problems — with a heavy shadow cast by Europe. The most significant threat to these turtles is plastic pollution. And here, the fisheries agreements Cape Verde has with the EU — allowing European industrial fleets, especially Spanish and Portuguese, to operate in its waters — have a significant impact on marine life. Nesting beaches are suffocated by tons of waste carried by currents, mostly originating from fishing activities and dumping along the European and African coasts. The accumulation not only chemically contaminates nests but also creates physical barriers that prevent female turtles from finding safe spots to lay their eggs. A numbered stick marks a turtle nest mapped by volunteers from the NGO Cabo Verde Natura 2000 along the plastic-infested beach of Porto Ferreira. The Cape Verde archipelago is the third-largest turtle reserve in the world, after Oman and Florida. The island of Boa Vista hosts two-thirds of Cape Verde’s turtles. “It’s like looking for a home in a minefield,” explained Franziska Haas, a German biologist and volunteer with Fundação Tartaruga, one of the most active local NGOs. “Often, we have to help them find a safe spot. Some get lost, wander for hours until morning and risk dying of dehydration.” Fundação Tartaruga currently monitors over 30 kilometers of coastline with teams of rangers and international volunteers, many with scientific training. Their work is crucial for identifying nests, protecting eggs, combating poaching and documenting the growing damage caused by pollution. There’s plenty more coastline to cover, of course, but their resources are limited. First, seven-year-old conservation dog Karetta and her handler João José Mendes de Oliveira, a 21 year-old ranger, patrol Santa Monica beach. Next, the remains of a turtle killed for its meat along Varandinha beach. Above, view of the Morro de Areia nature reserve. It covers an area of 25.85 square kilometers, with a 300-meter-wide marine protection zone. Below, ranger coordinator Adilson Monteiro, 28, shows a photograph of a turtle killed by a poacher on Varandinha beach. “Fishermen kill turtles while they are sleeping, during egg-laying. They pierce their necks with a fishing hook called incroque and cut off the rest of their bodies with a knife,” Monteiro said.  Next, a temporary tent used by volunteers of the NGO Bios Cape Verde for turtle monitoring along the beach of Varandinha. Then, there’s overtourism. In the last two decades, Cape Verde has become an increasingly popular tourist destination for Europeans. The islands of Sal and Boa Vista, in particular, have seen massive investment from European real estate groups, resulting in the construction of hotels, resorts and residential complexes along turtle-nesting beaches. But it’s not just the land that’s dangerous, threats to these turtles loom in the water as well. Industrial trawl nets accidentally catch tens of thousands of turtles every year, both in the archipelago and during their migration in the Atlantic and the Mediterranean to feed. And while European regulations mandate the use of exclusion devices, which allow turtles to escape nets, they’re only mandatory for certain fleets and areas, and enforcement is often inconsistent. Top, Cleidir Lopes, a 22-year-old tour guide, washes his horse Morena at Chaves beach. Cleidir is a member of Guardiões do Mar (guardians of the sea), a community of people from Boa Vista who report the presence of animals in difficulty in the water, such as turtles and cetaceans. Next, artificial nests of the association Cabo Verde Natura 2000 Cape Verde along the beach of Porto Ferreira. Below, Helmer Davy, a 22-year-old ranger, sleeps in his tent at the Fundação Tartaruga Lacacão camp in Curral Velho after covering his night shift.  There’s also he impact of climate change to contend with. In many cases, excessive heat causes embryo mortality. Meanwhile, the sex of turtle embryos depends on the temperature of the sand where they lay their eggs, with higher temperatures favoring females. And this growing imbalance could jeopardize long-term reproduction. In the face of all these threats, the volunteers’ night work has become essential; their observations are silent, meticulous, and almost ritualistic. Their teams consist of three or four volunteers and an environmental ranger, and their patrols are organized to the rhythm of a metronome, keeping the time dedicated to each female turtle to a minimum. Some of the volunteers help dig deeper holes, some inject microchips for the census, some note the nest’s GPS coordinates, and some come back to evaluate the turtles’ age, size, health and the presence of wounds. Volunteers Franziska Haas, a 22-year-old German biologist; Simone Ambrosini, a 21-year-old Swiss biologist; Nele Ruhnau, a 23-year-old German medical engineer; and ranger Emilio Garcia Landim inject a so-called Passive Integrated Transponder into the front fin of a turtle on Lacacão beach. They are also seen measuring the length of a shell to assess the age and health of a turtle, help dig holes and move eggs laid in a shallow hole to a hatchery. During breeding season, which lasts from June to October, each female can nest up to three times, digging a flask-shaped hole on the beach, each containing about 100 eggs. The laying lasts on average two hours. The eggs are incubated by the high temperatures of the sand for about 50 days. Still, despite all this work, poaching persists on the island too. Despite commitment from Cape Verde’s government, which criminalized the consumption of turtle meat and eggs in 2018, females are caught at night, killed while laying eggs and sold on the black market where meat can fetch up to €20 per kilo. “Turtles are hunted illegally for their meat and eggs, which are sold by word of mouth,” confirmed Fundação Tartaruga’s Executive Director Euclides Resende. But “in 2024, we documented just six killings on the beaches we monitor, compared to thousands just a few years ago.” The group’s surveillance work is effective, having adopted an innovative approach that uses conservation dogs and thermal technology in 2019. “This allows us to expand the surveillance range and collect evidence for potential legal action,” explained project coordinator Adilson Monteiro. Top, moonlight illuminates an hatchery along the beach of Lacacão. Many of the nesting beaches do not have the most favorable conditions for nest incubation such as the low slope of the beach profile, plastic and the presence of tourists. As a compensatory measure many of the nests are relocated to a controlled incubation area, which ensures the hatching of the young turtles and increases their chances of reaching the sea successfully. Next, a team of rangers and a conservation dog from the same NGO patrol an area at Santa Monica beach. The targeted selection of nesting beaches by a trained team of rangers equipped with night vision devices and conservation dogs has led to a massive reduction in poaching on the coasts of Boa Vista since its introduction in 2018. Below, Denis Quintino, a 31-year-old fisherman, returns to the port of Sal Rei after a night of fishing. But it’s exceedingly difficult to eradicate an activity so deeply rooted in the culture of a place: The meat and eggs of Caretta caretta have always been consumed on the islands. And in inland villages like João Galego, Cabedo do Tarafes and Fundo das Figueira, “Ba pa bela” (catching a turtle) is a true rite of passage. “For my family, hunting turtles was normal. My grandfather did it, my father did it, and I learned from my older brother. Every family in João Galego has always eaten turtles; it’s part of our tradition,” said tour guide Zenildo F. It is this difficult coexistence of tradition and environmental conservation, along with the need for further pollution and fisheries regulations, that makes the survival of Cape Verde’s sea turtles a truly global test case.