As dusk falls and the tide rolls in, the Florida shoreline becomes something more than sand and sea—it becomes a nursery. Beneath the surface, buried in the dunes, tiny sea turtles begin to stir. And as the moon climbs, they emerge in the hundreds, scrambling toward the waves in a fragile, instinct-driven dash for survival.
Florida is home to some of the most important nesting beaches in the world for sea turtles. From March through October, five species—loggerhead, green, leatherback, Kemp’s ridley, and the rarely seen hawksbill—return to these shores to lay their eggs. These ancient creatures have been navigating oceans for more than 100 million years, and yet today, their most critical journey happens under threat.
Nesting begins in early spring. Under the cover of night, female turtles haul themselves ashore—slow, deliberate, and determined. Using their back flippers, they dig deep chambers in the sand and deposit their eggs, often over one hundred at a time. Once finished, the mother covers the nest with care and returns to the sea, leaving the next chapter of the story to unfold on its own.
Hatching typically begins in late July and continues into September. After incubating for about 45 to 70 days, the hatchlings begin their climb to the surface. They emerge all at once, cued by temperature and vibration, working together to break free. The moment they reach the surface, the real challenge begins. These tiny turtles, barely two inches long, must race toward the ocean, drawn by the natural glow of moonlight reflecting off the water.
It’s a perilous journey. Every step is filled with danger—natural predators like crabs and birds, man-made obstacles, and the ever-present confusion caused by artificial light. Hatchlings that crawl the wrong way, lured inland by bright condos or street lamps, often never make it to the sea. Those that do face long odds. Scientists estimate that only one in a thousand sea turtles will survive to adulthood.
Despite their ancient resilience, sea turtles are now classified as threatened or endangered across all species. Much of this is due to human activity. Development along the coast disrupts nesting grounds. Lights disorient hatchlings. Plastic pollution clogs the oceans, often mistaken for jellyfish by hungry turtles. Even beach furniture, left out overnight, can block nesting mothers or trap hatchlings during their climb.
Yet there is hope. And much of that hope lies in awareness and small, everyday choices made by people who care.
If you live near the coast—or are just visiting—you can make a real difference during nesting season. One of the most important things you can do is turn off outdoor lights at night or install turtle-safe lighting. Low-wavelength amber lights, properly shielded and pointed downward, help keep hatchlings from getting lost. Equally helpful is removing all beach furniture, tents, and toys when you leave. These items can become dangerous obstacles in the sand, especially when hidden in the dark.
Even small acts like filling in holes or knocking down sandcastles can prevent hatchlings from becoming trapped. And, of course, picking up trash—especially plastic—helps reduce the risk of ingestion or entanglement for turtles of all ages.
It’s also important to resist the temptation to interact with hatchlings if you see them. While it may feel helpful to guide them toward the ocean, touching or interfering can do more harm than good. Instead, contact your local sea turtle patrol or wildlife organization for assistance.
Florida offers many opportunities to witness sea turtles safely and respectfully. Licensed programs in places like Melbourne Beach, Sarasota, and Clearwater offer guided nighttime walks, where you can observe nesting turtles without disturbing them. Some programs also offer hatchling releases under supervision—a truly unforgettable experience that can foster a lifelong connection to conservation.
There’s something deeply moving about the image of a tiny hatchling, born of sand and moonlight, hurling itself toward a vast and wild ocean. These ancient mariners return to the same beach where their own story began, completing a cycle older than recorded history. As residents and visitors of this remarkable state, we’re entrusted with the task of keeping that story alive.
This nesting season, take a moment to look down at the sand—and remember what might be just beneath it. A living legacy is rising. Let’s give it every chance to reach the sea.