Keeping Up with the Turtles
Each time we return to Kefalonia, there’s one thing my wife looks forward to above all else: seeing the sea turtles in the harbour at Argostoli. It’s become a kind of pilgrimage — part ritual, part race — through the morning heat and dust, following her urgent stride toward the fishing boats, hoping to glimpse one before they slip away beneath the water. And so far, we’ve never been disappointed.
The loggerhead turtles (Caretta caretta) that swim in Argostoli’s inner harbour are a local wonder. They’re drawn in by the returning fishing boats and the promise of scraps, gliding effortlessly between the hulls in the clear Ionian water. Some are tagged as part of conservation monitoring by Wildlife Sense, a local organisation helping protect these endangered creatures. We actually met some of their volunteers earlier in the week on Kaminia beach where we were staying and looking (from a respectful distance) at the sea turtle nests marked by triangulated sticks to keep them safe.
For my wife, seeing them is more than a tradition — it lifts her, spiritually and emotionally. Even our children, who’d prefer a much more glacial start to the day, have learned to accept the early walk, tolerating the rising heat and dusty path with reasonable (mostly) humour and the usual amount of eye-rolling as we try our best to keep pace behind her.
This time, I had an unexpected moment of connection. Walking alone along the harbour, I noticed a turtle swimming beside me — unhurried, companionable. It would occasionally dip under a fishing boat, then reappear again alongside me.
At one point, it paused to circle with a pair of others before resuming its gentle glide.
Eventually, we reached the stone wall at the end of the fishing market pier, where it began feeding — nibbling at algae clinging to the stone, I think.
I was able to stand quietly and watch, uninterrupted, capturing a few photographs I’ll always treasure and even (for an introvert like me) making connection with a fellow 'man of a certain age' who was equally humbled by the experience we were so very fortunate to witness.
As always, people gathered whenever they noticed — drawn in by the same wonder. But then, just as quietly, the moment resumed. The turtle and I moved on together until eventually it swan off into the distance. It was a small journey, a simple one. But a great privilege.
– Stuart Leach