One morning during our 5 night stay on Bequia we hired a driver Ramzey (I might be misspelling his name) to take us up to Old Hegg Turtle Sanctuary, which turned out to be a real highlight of the trip. Brother King runs the place with a dedication and a softspoken passion that belies his steely determination to operate his sanctuary in the face of a government who is not only not interested in conservation of these creatures, but in some cases acting against them. He is self-taught in the ways of the hawksbill and green turtles and tells fascinating stories of things he has learned on the fly in addition to sharing a few hair-raising tales of his skin diving days and coming face to face with tiger sharks. We met Miss Busybody, a large hawksbill who sometimes goes swimming in the open sea with Brother King. We met the newest Old Hegg, a turtle whose flippers are deformed and cannot propel itself forward the same way other turtles can. We came away from our time there extremely impressed with Brother King and his operation, and in my opinion this is a not to be missed experience on Bequia.

We drive past Spring Bay and Industry Bay (No industry here – quite the opposite. It’s a serenely quite, palm-lined beach with only one small guesthouse on it.) to near the end of the road. This is the site of the Old Hegg Turtle Sanctuary where, since 1995, Brother King has lived his life solely for the purpose of preserving hawksbill turtles. From the road it appears to be a somewhat ramshackle affair with chickens and dogs running about, but when we’re inside we see it for the organized, well-run operation it is.

As we enter, Brother King is piping fresh seawater into a round pool that holds many three-month-old turtles. He’s just fed them and they are lively, propelling themselves through the water with their stubby little feet and nibbling bites of the fish they’ve just been fed. Very young turtles fill several pools of this size. There are also permanent tubs made from poured concrete, some quite large, and a series of small ones that are merely one or two feet square. These small pools allow Brother King to isolate young turtles that have been injured. As the hatchlings start to mature, they sometimes have little internecine spats and can give each other severe bites. Brother King watches for this and removes any hurt ones, treats their cuts with gentian violet, and keeps them away from the other turtles until they heal. One little guy is in a small, plastic tub by himself. He’s been bitten above both eyes and seems in sad shape.

Brother King fosters the turtles in his sanctuary until they are between three and five years of age, then releases them to the sea. I ask him why there is a range of ages for letting them go and he tells us that some mature faster than others. He watches each one closely to determine when it’s likely able to survive on its own. The largest tank has two turtles of quite some size, and a number of smaller ones. They’re very active and appear to be curious about us as we peer down at them.

I ask Brother King how the process begins – where do the turtles come from? He searches the beaches for nesting places and, whenever possible, takes the turtle eggs before someone else comes along and harvests them to eat. As the numbers of hawksbill turtles continue to dwindle, and not just on Bequia, he now has people on other islands retrieving eggs and bringing them to him. He tells us that it takes twenty-five years for a hatchling to grow into a mature turtle that reproduces, and for every turtle that survives those twenty-five years, a multitude more do not.

This man is passionate about what is clearly his life’s work. When I try to thank him – what do you say to a man like this? – he tells me he does it for the children, specifically his grandchildren. It was about twelve years ago that he was struck with the thought that, since it takes twenty-five years for a turtle to begin to reproduce, and with the present rate of destruction of eggs, there would likely not be any hawksbill turtles left for his grandchildren to know. Thus began his labor of love, which is how he describes his work. In the beginning he spent twelve hours every day teaching himself how to care for the hawksbills, how to preserve them and safely let them go. Brother King seems so filled with compassion that I think it’s closer to the truth to say he learned to let the turtles teach him what they need.

I’m very moved by this man’s love and dedication. He continues to spend much of every day here, laboring alone to care for his beloved hawksbills. He asks his visitors for a small admission fee and gladly accepts donations…it takes a lot of fish to daily feed maybe two hundred growing turtles.

As we are leaving, I notice what is probably the largest turtle in the sanctuary, swimming around in a pool by itself. This hawksbill is one that Brother King keeps for a pet. There are two round holes in its shell’s’ posterior. Through these he attaches a leash and takes the turtle with him when he snorkels. I can just see the two of them, swimming together in the depths.

Mr. King is a very personable intelligent man. He is passionate about his work. When you visist him you feel like your visiting a friend.

Phil Michon met the Turtle Man around 1995 and was so impressed by him. He admired, immensely, the work that the Turtle Man had done and was doing. To do such a purposeful earth improving project is the true meaning of success in life. Marilyn Casha