8 or 9 years ago, I went to St. Lucia with 3 friends for a scuba diving vacation. The first two nights, we stayed at a B&B run by a German man. His partner Patrick was a veterinarian from Jamaica, and worked for the St. Lucia animal welfare department. Patrick asked us if we wanted to go with them that night to the east side of the island because the sea turtles were supposed to be laying eggs on the beach.

We jumped at the chance and loaded into this jeep-like vehicle, crammed to the gills with about 12 people. We drove for what seemed like hours, past heartbreakingly poor villages with houses made of paper and children running around naked. We went through a locked gate, down a tiny road and finally ended up at the beach. My friend Carol, a control freak, was nearly hyperventilating because we had no idea who these people were, where we were, or how to get home.

After hours of patrolling the beach, we decided to take shifts. About 2 am, Patrick and I were walking about a mile from the vehicle, in the pitch black, and we stumbled across several turtles in the midst of laying eggs. It was beautiful. He told me to go back to get the others.

I walked what seemed like forever, getting more and more panicky by the minute as I couldn’t find the rest of the group. I finally got to them and we all went back down the beach to observe the turtles. Some of them got confused by our flashlights and followed the lights instead of the stars and moonlight to get back to the water, and they’d have to be led out to sea.

Anyway, we stayed up all night and saw several dozen turtles laying eggs, and it ranks as one of the coolest things I’ve ever done. Not weird or funny, really, but definitely cool.