A TURTLE NIGHT

A glorious night on the beach last night!

Along the southeastern coast we are in the hatching part of the sea turtle nesting season. Last night I went out to the beach on Isle of Palms, SC with my fellow Island Turtle Team members. Sitting on the sand under a foggy moon, being bitten by vicious beach ants, we watched as a loggerhead nest slowly rose to a boil.  When that happens, the loggerhead hatchlings, already free from their eggs, begin digging as a group and rise together like an elevator from 20" down.  At the top they rest for awhile. 
From the top we see a concave circle in the sand.

Over the course of an hour, or 2 or 3, it's like watching a birth.  Little bumps appear on top of the sand. Like contractions, the circle heaves and slowly the bumps get larger and I can see dark tips of heads and flippers emerge as the group below pushes upward.  We watch expectantly.  Suddenly something triggers the group that it's time to go!  With a great heave the 3 inch hatchlings begin scrambling out, climbing over each other, flippers waving, hatchlings tumbling down the slope, a hundred or more of them, in a mad dash for the sea.  It looks like a pot boiling over, which is how it got the name "a boil" When this happens, the turtles are healthy and vivacious and as a group they have a better chance at survival, fanning out across the beach, following the rules of predator glut.

It wasn't the best of conditions on the beach for them. The moon wasn't bright, and sadly-- and frustratingly-- some homeowner (who should have known better) left a bright light burning on her outside porch. It was a hassle getting all the hatchlings to the sea without them turning toward the bright light --and certain death. Plus, the sea was still far out and these hatchlings faced a long journey across two galleys to reach home. 

But make it they did.  My pals on the team, Mary and Jo, and Christi from the SC Aquarium and her sweet daughter Lillian were there to guide them to the water.  The hatchlings were valiant as the waves tumbled them back, further up the shore. Over and over they righted themselves and headed straight back in, following their ancient instinct to swim.

They'll swim for three days in a frenzy, non stop, to reach the vast sargassum floats in the Gulf that will protect them from predators as they get bigger. It is estimated that only 1 in 1000 of them will reach adulthood. Of those survivors, only the females will return to our area beaches some thirty years later to nest and continue the cycle of life.
A long journey ahead, little turtles.  God speed.  I thank God I was there last night to witness the small miracle of nature.  And I pray that I will be here --with my friends on the turtle team--to welcome the mama turtles home.


** Pix by Barbara Bergwerf from our picture book: TURTLE SUMMER. Published by Arbordale Publishing

MAM and Mary Pringle

A boil!

                                                       Fanning out.

Hatchling makes it to the sea.

Let's Launch this Book Together

Wow!  It just dawned on me as I opened up my blog page that this year marks my 20th anniversary as a published author.  TWENTY. YEARS.  

Seeing this in writing, saying it aloud seems ... surreal.  I am profoundly grateful. Whether you've read every novel I've published or just one, you have contributed to my writing career.  I consider it a rare gift to be able to have a job that allows me to combine my passions for writing and nature conservation.  

This adds even greater meaning to this year's book launch, and I want you to celebrate with me! THE SUMMER'S END comes out in just six weeks and is the conclusion to the bestselling Lowcountry Summer trilogy.

The summer is just beginning with THE SUMMER'S END.  Let's party in an extra special way at the South Carolina Aquarium!

The South Carolina Aquarium is a treasured attraction here in Charleston, South Carolina.  On Monday, May 18th from 6:30-8:30 p.m., you'll get to enjoy all that the aquarium has to offer at this exclusive, after-hours party.  Enjoy all of the exhibits, including the brand new Shark Shallows, with a glass of wine in hand, while nibbling on southern treats, and enjoying a live steel drum performance by musician Mike Greer.

If you're out of town and looking for a place to stay, the Francis Marion Hotel in historic downtown Charleston and The Palms Oceanfront Hotel on Isle of Palms are offering a limited number of rooms at a discount rate just for my guests, under the group name: "Mary Alice Monroe Book Party."

Reserve your ticket today by calling the SC Aquarium at (843) 577-3474.  It will be a night to remember and I'm eager to celebrate this milestone moment with you.  Let's launch THE SUMMER'S END together!

MY SUMMER CRUSH

GUEST BLOG

Kerry E. Reichs

I’ve had my share of crushes before, but it was only this year that my heart was stolen so completely that I became a stalker.  It was the adorable occupants of 3A.  I couldn’t stop thinking about them.  I found excuses to cruise by their place every morning and every evening.  I scrutinized the minutiae of their existence.  Had anything changed since yesterday?  Had they had any visitors? Who were these other women hanging around?

No, 3A wasn’t an apartment of virile young men.  It was a loggerhead sea turtle nest located on Isle of Palms beach between third and fourth streets, and I was in love.  I’d been floating on the fringes of Charleston’s “turtle society” for two years, introduced by friend and fellow writer Mary Alice Monroe.  I arose at the crack of dawn to attend every inventory, my sleepy son in tow.  I met the wonderful turtle team, formidable wielders of the Red Bucket, whose dedication and passion for these creatures is selfless.  And most of all, I fell in love with the turtles.  There is nothing more adorable than a hatchling sea turtle; nothing more inspiring than its determined trek across a fraught beach; nothing more heartening than the moment they catch a wave.

I loved every encounter, but I craved the zenith of turtle monitoring. I wanted the boil – hatchlings pouring out of a nest like a pot bubbling over.  Then along came 3A.  A convenient ten-minute walk down the beach from my house, this became MY nest. I’d find excuses to wander by (“It rained a drop . . . better check the nest!”). I sent unsolicited “updates” and photos to team members.  I pestered them about the schedule.  One day, my stalking was rewarded.  The sand showed the first signs of emergence, kicking off a series of evenings camped beside the nest.

                                                 (concave in sand = activity)

                                                (ghost crab predation!)

  The team indulged me.  The first few nights, nothing.  Then a handful. 

  Then came Friday.

This was the night.  I was sure of it.  I was provisioned like Lewis and Clark: I had my four year old, his DVD player, a beach blanket, chairs, bug spray, snacks, kindle, water.  I was there for the long haul.  I sat in the company of the team, chatting merrily. So much that we were startled to see a turtle crawling by.  We hopped to action, shepherding seven “scouts” safely to the sea. The sun had just set.  After that, stillness.  Indications of emergence ceased.  All the hot action was going down on Sullivan’s, a nest poised to go.  3A was a sleeper.  The rest of the team headed home or to Sullivan’s. There would be no action here tonight.  I decided to keep company with my nest a little longer, popped a new DVD on for my son, and settled into my kindle.  At 11:30, I flashed the red light over at the nest, intending to gather my things. And saw the hole.  Which became a diminutive turtle head.  Then two. Then three.  Small beaks poking from the sand.  Waiting. 

I grabbed my son and we watched the magic happen, just the two of us. Under the remnants of a supermoon, we saw a tiny army assembling under the sand. Finally, the leader crested, and turtles poured from the nest in his wake, wave after wave.  It was enchanting.  We were breathless when the flow stopped, then raced down the beach with the light to play false moon, luring the hatchlings to the sea.  I was a proud mama when the last dove out of sight.

I didn’t think it could get more magical than that, but I was wrong.  Friday had been a “half boil” of about sixty, with another sixty eggs remaining. The team continued to monitor the nest, none so zealous as I.  The next day I popped up at 6AM to scrutinize the sand; loitered at sunset; and returned around midnight, prime turtle “boiling point”.  And repeat, the following day.  And repeat.  For three days, I sat on that nest like I’d laid the eggs myself. 

 It was an unusual nest.  Turtles ventured out in small clutches. The team fretted.  I hovered.  Sunday night – turtles on the beach.  We all raced at the 911 call, but it was a troop of only eight.  Monday no action was expected, but a humdinger of a storm.  I was stuck on a call with Comcast.  Knowing I’d be on hold forever, I trotted down to the nest, phone pressed to my ear, wind whipping.  Team members were in situ.  The signs were there. Comcast became unimportant.  I dropped to the beach, and chatted. Lightening danced across the sky to the west.  Our time on the beach would be abridged.  We were debating how much, when I saw shadows on the sand. An endearing mini-mob of loggerheads crowding out of the nest. The last wave. By this night, the tide was miles away, so we gathered our new friends into the trademark Red Bucket.

 The turtles were three-deep, teeming to go.  When the last was collected, they passed the bucket to me.  I, team newbie, was handed the Red Bucket.  It was a reverent moment.  We hastened to the water’s edge, where I carefully released my charges.  I was proud and relieved as each dove into the next phase of its journey.

 

The next morning at inventory, the team recovered a dawdler.  My son and I gathered with the usual crowd to bid our last ward farewell.  The lone occupant of 3A scrambled toward the ocean, turning at the waterline to crawl over my son’s foot in farewell, before disappearing with a flap of his flipper. 

It was bittersweet as the little guy disappeared from sight.  Tomorrow I’ll find another nest to fuss over, but for now there’s a little hole where 3A used to be. I’ll always remember my first.  See you in thirty years, my friends. After this taste of being on the Turtle Team, I know I’ll be here waiting for you.

                                       

Dolphins, Sunset and Miracles...

I had probably the best dolphin viewing of my life yesterday. I've been writing hard and at the day's end I needed to get some fresh air. I took a very willing Buster and Maggie for a walk to our favorite spot-- the bridge at Breach Inlet. Had a feeling I'd see the dolphins. They often feed in that churning water when the sun lowers.

The sky last night was magnificent. As I reached the top of the Hunley bridge a single, large black cloud hovered over the distant water like a great ship. Beneath it, rays of the day's last light poured out on the water. But where the Ravenel Bridge stood strong against the horizon, the sky opened up to golden light. Three dolphins were cavorting in Breach Inlet. After a few minutes, two dolphins swam across the water right under where I stood. Humans can be such vain creatures. I like to think the dolphins came directly to me, but I know that is merely wishful thinking. Buster put his paws high on the railing so he, too, could watch the dolphins below. I was happy, but didn't know what was about to happen...

On the small patch of beach below the bridge a father and son were surf fishing. Farther away, closer to The Boat House, four young children played. The dolphins drew very near them along the shore, to their utter delight. Curious, I walked closer toward them, enjoying the sight.

When, to my wonder and surprise, I saw what appeared to be a big wave hurtling toward the beach right in front of the children. That was no wave! Three dolphins pushed fish onto shore, beaching themselves as they snapped up fish. It all happened so fast! The children were leaping in excitement! Fish were flying! I laughed out loud! I'd never seen a "strand feeding" here at Breach Inlet, and never in front of humans. Such bold dolphins. They repeated the effort twice more to the cheers of diners at the restaurant.

The skyline deepened, turning the water that signature lavender and silver that shines iridescent and elicits sighs from those of us lucky to see it. The dolphins arched and dined a short while longer, then disappeared. People along the bridge put their cameras away and returned to their cars. The children on the beach continued to stare out with the hope of youth.

I tugged the leash for Maggie and Buster to begin our short walk home. As the sun set, I wondered if all those folks realized how lucky they were to have witnessed that amazing spectacle. It's rare. As I walked, I said prayers of thanks all the way home for the gift of the dolphins, the beautiful sunset, and for living in the lowcountry.

Vacationing Here Soon? Here's What I Recommend...

I not only write about the Lowcountry, I’m a long-time resident. So when you vacation here, you’re enjoying the same picturesque views, breathing the same intoxicating air, and living in the same natural landscape with creatures that inspire my novels, including my newest bestseller, THE SUMMER GIRLS.  

Thank you to Traveler of Charleston for inviting me to be a guest blogger today.  Whether you're local or from off, the free quarterly publication is a great resource before planning your next adventure.  Heading to Isle of Palms or Sullivan's Island soon?  Check out my personal recommendations here: Lowcountry Author Shares Her Charleston Beach Vacation Tips.

Summer's Here, Win a Beach Vacation

Summer’s here on the Isle of Palms!  As a longtime resident, we’ve learned the ebb and flow of daily beachgoer traffic during the summer season.  Every weekend my husband and I map out our daily commutes to and from home based on beach-goer traffic patterns.  We can't leave the island between 3-5 pm!

But I’m not having to worry about that right now because today—June 25^th-- is the official release of THE SUMMER GIRLS, and I'M ON THE ROAD!  It is my summertime ritual.   During the time of year when millions of American families head to a beach for vacation, I hit the road for book tour.  My husband stocks the freezer with pizza, my dog walker is on call, plenty of water and bookmarks in the trunk of my car, and my sister, Ruth, is Thelma to my Louise. 

Today’s book release is the official launch of The Lowcountry Summer Trilogy.  I'm at Moss Creek in Hilton Head and we're having a signature cocktail --a Dolphin Sunrise-- to celebrate the launch. So today I raise a toast to all my readers--Thank you!

THE SUMMER GIRLS is located on Sullivan's Island, SC and I have fun taking you to some of my favorite haunts.  In this novel, you’ll read about Dunleavy’s Pub, Home Team BBQ (read page 275 for details on the hushpuppies!), and Sandpiper Gallery.  They are definite must-visit locations.  For anything and everything coffee, wine, sweets and more, Café Medley is sure to please, in my opinion. 

A visit to Fort Moultrie is an adventure the entire family can enjoy.  History lovers will appreciate the island’s historic district, an eclectic mix of mostly family homes today that originally served as vital military resources, some dating back to the late 1800’s.  And make sure to drive by the island’s black and white lighthouse.  It has a unique triangular shape and is still active today. 

Next door to Sullivan’s Island, just on the other side of Breach Inlet, is my island home, the Isle of Palms.  Because of their geographical proximity, characters in THE SUMMER GIRLS spend some time on the I.O.P (as the locals often call it).  If you’re planning a trip to the island, one of the treasures here is Wild Dunes, a world-class golf resort at the northern end of the island.  The land is rich in history and is vital to the life cycle of the threatened loggerhead sea turtle.  The development plans of Wild Dunes and its impact on that area of the island in the 1970’s were important elements of my last novel, BEACH HOUSE MEMORIES.  Today, it’s a premier destination that is perfect for couples and families alike.  And I know that plenty of locals even vacation here.    You have a chance to WIN a getaway for two to Wild Dunes and experience a real-life Lowcountry weekend.  Click here to enter the sweepstakes on my Facebook page. 

While you’re staying on the Isle of Palms, you have to make sure to enjoy breakfast at the Sea Biscuit Café.  It’s worth the wait!  And if you’re lucky, you’ll get to see the kite man on Front Beach, as we call it.  It’s the area by the Windjammer and Coconut Joe’s restaurant.  I don’t know the guy’s real man but you can’t miss him.  He maneuvers a long row of brightly colored kites towing even longer tails, with such ease and grace.  His kite-flying moves are mesmerizing and fun to witness. 

And while you're on the beach, look for the orange signs that mark the sea turtle nests.  We're having a great start to the season.  But please don't use flashlights on the beach. Remember, lights out for turtles!  AND while standing along the shore, look out at the sea and scan the water for the tell-tale dorsal fins of the Atlantic Bottlenose Dolphins!

It will be awhile before I can enjoy some of my favorite local spots now that I’m on the road for the new book.  I guess you could say I’m kind of bringing a little bit of the beach to everyone who reads THE SUMMER GIRLS.  I've got approximately 30 special appearances (all listed on my website), so if I’m near your city or town, please come see me and we’ll celebrate the summer season together! 

Notes From the Road

It's the second week of the BEACH HOUSE MEMORIES book tour, and so far it has been a memorable and exhilarating adventure. 

One of the most amazing moments happened yesterday afternoon during the "Moveable Feast" literary luncheon in Pawleys Island, hosted by Litchfield Books.  It filled my eyes with tears. 

Before I explain why, let me share a little background first.  Most of my readers know I'm passionate about sea turtle conservation.  My personal work with these majestic creatures inspired not only BEACH HOUSE MEMORIES, but also my New York Times bestsellers THE BEACH HOUSE and SWIMMING LESSONS.  When planning this book tour, I knew it would be a perfect opportunity to not only celebrate the progress that's been made in sea turtle conservation but also share the exciting expansion plans of the South Carolina Aquarium's Sea Turtle Hospital.  As I've been saying during this book tour, let's move that hospital out of the basement.

We revealed the plan during the book launch party at the aquarium, and the huge crowd responded enthusiastically.  Proceeds from the party's book sales went toward the turtle hospital initiative.  Approximately 225 people attended the celebration, many of them were sea turtle volunteers themselves.  Fans traveled from all over the Carolinas to be there.  I even met a couple from New Hampshire!

Now, back to yesterday's Pawleys Island event.  I had just shared some of those hospital expansion details with the packed house, when the 'Moveable Feast' event coordinator spontaneously decided to pass around a glass jar to collect contributions for the cause.  The gesture alone made my heart swell and I figured they might collect a hundred dollars or so.  That would have been a wonderful donation.  My eyes bulged when told the final tally---$640! I was moved to tears by this group's generosity.  I have THE BEST fans! 

Just days before, Coastal Discovery Museum in Hilton Head Island, SC also raised money for the sea turtle hospital during a private book tour event.  Thank you all for your generous spirit. 

One more note about the South Carolina Aquarium.  The sea turtle rescue program manager, Kelly Thorvalson, and her team will be releasing two loggerheads back into the ocean at the Isle of Palms County Park on Friday, May 18th at 3pm.  I've been a part of these releases many times, and each one is an emotional sight to see.  If you live near Charleston, SC, I hope you'll be able to witness this incredible event.  You can learn more about the sea turtles being released on the Sea Turtle Hospital Blog.

I'm in North Carolina for the next few days and then I'll drive over to Kingsport, Tennessee.  Take a look at my complete book tour schedule and I hope to have the opportunity to say hello to you at one of these events. 

It's Not a Sequel, But...

“Please write a sequel.”

This is a frequent and flattering comment I get on my website guestbook pages, in my email inbox and at signing events. Interestingly, the majority of these requests are for The Beach House and its sequel, Swimming Lessons. People are curious to learn more about the lives of Lovie, Cara and Brett, Toy, Little Lovie and Ethan at the quaint, charming little beach house on the Isle of Palms.

It’s been ten years since I introduced you to Olivia “Lovie” Rutledge in my first NY Times hit, The Beach House. Lovie Rutledge is the island’s turtle lady, a widow trying to make amends for mistakes made long ago before the sun sets on her final summer.

Lovie stood alone gazing toward the west. The day’s light extinguished and the night grew dark and silent save for the clicking of the swaying sea oats and the gentle lapping of waves along the shore. As ghosts of the past rose up to swirl in the hallucinatory colors of twilight, she sighed deeply, clasping her hands tight in front of her as one in prayers. She was nearly seventy years old. There was no time left for regret or misgivings, no time for dreams of what might have been. There were plants to be made. The beach house—and all the secrets it held—had to be place in secure hands. Too much had been sacrificed for too many years to let the secrets slip out now.  (Prologue, THE BEACH HOUSE)

There’s an old saying” You must know where you came from to know where you are going. This is what motivated me to write the prequel, BEACH HOUSE MEMORIES. After reading The Beach House, my married daughter remarked that she couldn’t understand how Lovie could have stayed in a marriage with an abusive husband. I realized that she—like so many young women today—had no comprehension of the rigid social structure for women as recently as the 1970s. I explored the parallel of change occurring in women’s lives in Charleston at the onset of feminism and the destruction of the last vestige of wildness, a maritime forest, on Isle of Palms.

How far would you go, how much would you risk for love? Is the price of love worth your reputation, your marriage, your family? Now imagine answering those questions in the south in 1974. The repercussions of any woman seeking a divorce in the seventies, but especially one from ‘South of Broad’, were staggering. Divorce was scandalous. Adultery was unforgivable. “You made your bed, now lie in it,” was an often repeated phrase. The fight for women’s equal rights raged in the north, but no bras were burned in Charleston! The role and expectations of a southern lady held firm—to be subservient to her husband and to know her role as a homemaker and mother. She had no where to go if she was in trouble. As a supporter of women’s shelters, I knew I had to tell this story.

So all summer, I’ve been writing Lovie’s story. The year is 1974. Cara is nine years old and Palmer is teenager. It is a life-altering summer of secrets. Peeling back the layers of these characters’ past reveals complicated and thought provoking lives and decisions. I hope the prequel will answer questions that lingered in the pages of The Beach House-- and I have new surprises, too.

I’m curious—what questions do you have? Who is your favorite character?

The prequel, BEACH HOUSE MEMORIES, will be released in hardcover in May 2012. I hope you’ll enjoy this look back into a tumultuous, important time in Charleston’s history as well as that of the Isle of Palms, seen through the eyes of one of my most beloved characters.

A Turtle Season of Highs and Lows

The first breath of fall has come to the Isle of Palms.  An early cold front brought a chill to the dawn air.  I wake early and wrap favorite patchwork wool and cashmere shawl around my shoulders, slip my bare feet into sandals and step out into the morning.  The scent of pluff mud is strong this morning and I smile.  It is the scent of home.

There is an inventory of a turtle nest this morning.  The first one since Hurricane Irene’s waves battered our coast.  We dodged a bullet with that storm.  Originally it was predicted to hit our shores as a category 2 or 3 hurricane.  Instead, she veered north.  Who would have thought my brother and sister-in-law in Vermont would have been clobbered?  I always say, never turn your back on a hurricane.

Our island is saddened, however, because Irene destroyed dunes and we lost 9 nests and three that were due to be inventoried.  Which makes today’s inventory special.  I make my way along the narrow beach path bordered by high walls of sand dunes.  The tropical storm’s heavy rains and the cool air have gifted the lowcountry with a second spring.  The undulating dunes are blanketed with countless cheery heads of yellow primrose, gaillardia, and the tiny, sensual wild purple orchids I adore.  My heels dig into the cool sand as I climb the final, tall sand dune.  I can hear the roar of the ocean before I can see it. 

The vista of the mighty ocean spread out to infinity to meet the heavens never fails to take my breath away.  The ocean is moody this morning, gun metal gray with long, choppy waves that curl to shore foamy white.   The recent storm has ravaged the shoreline, cutting through the dunes and leaving a long line of wrack, a foot high in places.  Shells of all kind and size littered the wrack with sponges and sea whip and the ubiquitous plastic bottles.

I’m amused, as I always am, by a flock of sandpipers playing tag with the wave.  They are poking their little black awls in the sand with an urgent hunger. One little black and white peep dares to venture close.   We stare at each other a moment, its shiny black eyes unblinking.  Curious, I take a small step closer and it skitters away.  Above, a laughing gull seems to mock my pensive mood.  

The turtle team taking inventory

I am met by my fellow Turtle Team members, Mary, Tee, Bev, Linda and the Barbaras. We divvy up duties and begin the first of two inventories that morning.  Our only observer this morning is Elizabeth and her fiancé.  They are getting married on the weekend and they glow like the dawn breaking overhead.  Elizabeth is a volunteer and found this nest.  It was a healthy nest with a total of 106 eggs hatched for a 91% hatch.

Releasing the hatchling

We move on to 9^th Avenue for a second inventory.  I found one little hatchling trapped in the cold sand and put it into the now famous red bucket.  This is another successful nest with114 eggs and had a 92% hatch success.  Elizabeth releases this lone swimmer to the sea.  He leaves a watery trail on the sand before he reaches the sea.  Instinct kicks in and the hatchling dives and swims off, disappearing into the waves. 

I stare out at the sea and wonder if I’ve ever seen a more beautiful morning on the beach.  A pale blue sky is covered with a thin layer of pearly gray, wispy clouds, like lace over a gown.  The ocean absorbs the gray color, mysterious, even threatening. Yet in the distance hints of pink fringe the horizon, promising dawn. The tide is going out leaving a wide watery sheen on the sand that is aglow in rosy hues.

As this season comes to a close, I think how it’s been filled with an unusual number of highs and lows.   Early in the season the turtles came in greater numbers than we’ve had in years. We were so excited at racking up the number of nests, betting we’d get to forty and feeling exultant when we hit forty-four.  A few of the nests were hard to find when the wind destroyed field signs.  There were three CSI triumphs for the team.  The Pink Panty nest remains one for the books (read my August blog posting if you missed that story).  And, of course, there was Irene’s destruction of the nests we’d carefully moved to a location we’d always thought was safe. 

As the sun rises higher in the sky and we head back to our homes, we talk about the season and we find comfort in knowing that despite the loss of nests to the hurricane, because we had so many nests this season in the end we helped more hatchlings to the sea this year than last.   Nature is the great teacher if we stand back and take the long view.   We might face storms and incessant rain, but there is hope in each dawn.  I take a final look back at the ocean and smile.  That one small hatchling is racing to the Gulf Stream.

Hatchling rescued from the sand

Girls Take Flight on Isle of Palms

Editor's Note: This week's guest blogger is Isle of Palms native Gretta Kruesi, professional kiteboarder, artist, and environmentalist.  You can follow her work at http://grettakruesi.com/

On the Isle of Palms, we don't often get great waves but we consistantly get a lot of wind. I grew up mostly surfing but the moment I first saw kiteboarding introduced at my local beach and how much fun those guys were having gliding across the water, hitting waves and soaring through the sky, I knew I'd be hooked. It's a sport that we have perfect conditions for with long flat beaches and a steady sea-breeze most days of the year.

Back when I first learned, it was intimidating because there weren't any other girls doing it in the area. There wasn't a female in the sport I could learn from or look up to and say "hey, I want to do that too!" But over the past couple years, the equipment has become more user-friendly and the sport has become increasingly popular among women and men alike. Charleston (known as Chucktown to the kite community) has quickly become a popular kiteboarding destination, with more and more women and girls entering the scene.

I've noticed a big influx of local women ready to give kiteboarding a try. Air Kiteboarding co-owner Elea Faucheron started the Air Kiteboarding Club For Girls last year.  The Club served as a vehicle for local women and girls to get together, look out for each other on the water, and have fun. I'm thrilled everytime I return home to the Isle of Palms and see the comraderie and new female faces at the beach-- and how much everyone has progessed.

Photo: Gretta teaches a girls only workshop on Isle of Palms

This past Sunday, I hosted a "Miss Independent Rider" workshop and Naish gear demo for the Girl's Club. Fifteen enthusiastic women attended to learn more ways to push their riding limits. A few girls even came by just to hang out and support. Not only did we have a blast, it's amazing to think that just a few short years ago the were only a couple female riders total in all of Charleston.

I'm excited to go to the beach and see the emerging community of female kiteboarders and I feel honored to be in the position to promote the sport and help other girls get off the beach and into the water, the way I wish there were girls to do that for me. 

As my friend Dan Floyd always says, "Share the stoke!"  And that's just what these ladies do. So if you happen to see kites flying on the Isle of Palms, chances are it's one of the girls.

ANOTHER TURTLE SUMMER

Whew! The first crush of beach visitors came to the Isle of Palms/Sullivan’s Island over this holiday weekend. Getting on and off the islands was like a parking lot! The number of tourists coming to beach is increasing. This was just the first wave from now through the summer season.

The holiday weekend of tourists had me thinking about another group of beach visitors—our sea turtles. Nesting season is underway. There have been at least five nests since the first one was spotted on May 22. When the hatching begins in July, it’s just the beginning of the amazing cycle of life for this endangered species.

Keeping in mind how many more people are on the beach, we need your help! Here’s how you can help make the beach safe (and more fun) for turtles and tourists both!

1. Only leave your footprints on the beach. Whatever you take to the beach—chairs, plastic wrappers, tents, etc.--make sure it leaves with you. Sea turtles like to eat jellyfish and can confuse plastic bags for food. A lethal mistake.

2. Fill in holes in the sand. If you dig a large hole, please smooth it out before you leave. Why bother? These pits can be a hazard to a mother turtle or hatchlings AND to someone walking the beach. Ouch!

3. Lights out for turtles! Why do we say this? Sea turtles find their way to the ocean by heading toward the brightest light. In nature, it is the moon over the water. But it can’t compete with man-made lights. If you’re taking an evening stroll along the beach, don’t use flashlights. Turn off the porch lights at the beach house or hotel balcony, and pull the window shades facing the beach down as well. Dark skies are beautiful!

4. Keep off the dunes! These natural barriers are fragile and the plant life helps keep the sand dunes in place. And turtles nest high in the dunes. Please stick to the beach trails and boardwalks—dogs, too!

These are easy tips for all of us, adults and kids, to be good sea turtle stewards. If you want to learn more about the sea turtle season, pick up a copy of TURTLE SUMMER. It’s a fun and informative children’s book with photographs for the little ones and all of us big kids too!