Fatherly Help for Mother Nature

By Alicia Gallegos

Carol Falkenstein laughs when she remembers the time she came home from a vacation to find a stink in the kitchen that took her breath away. There at her feet was an ice chest full of baby sea turtles—stinky baby sea turtles—and she instantly knew it was her husband's doing.

"I thought, 'Oh, my God, he's losing his mind,'" she said.

But the incident was only the latest in Bruno Falkenstein's passion for saving sea turtles. He had brought home the baby sea turtles because of a threatening storm.

For 26 years, Falkenstein's wife and two daughters have endured 3 a.m. phone calls, hearing the front door open at dusk and coming home to find unexpected guests. Falkenstein's sea turtle adoration is surpassed only by his love for his own family.

"He's like the turtle savior," Carol said. "I don't know where you'd find another person like him."

As a licensed official for protecting endangered species, Falkenstein's primary duty is to safeguard sea turtle eggs on St. Pete Beach, before and after they hatch. It is illegal for the public to handle turtle eggs or bother a nest without a permit.

Falkenstein, 57, also owns the Hurricane restaurant in St. Pete Beach, and was a city commissioner for more than 10 years. But he is happiest observing and saving his four-legged reptiles.

"If we can't preserve the life of a sea turtle, how are we going to preserve our own?" he asks.

Falkenstein rises with the sun every morning of the April-through-October nesting season and hops in a tiny car called an Argo. The topless vehicle allows him to travel along the beach and through shallow water to hunt for turtle tracks.

Dodging the previous day's sandcastles and waving to early morning joggers, Falkenstein scans the sand for a miniature tank tread.

"I used to come out at two in the morning but now that I'm getting older, I come out between 5 and 7 o'clock," he said.

If Falkenstein finds turtle prints too close to the water, he digs up the eggs–80 to 150–and moves them farther up the beach. If the tide is too high, the babies will die before they hatch.

"I don't do it as quite as good as (a sea turtle) Mom," he said.

It's common for St. Pete Beach police to call Falkenstein during the night if there is a sea turtle sighting.

"Sometimes twice a day," Carol said. "Sometimes it annoys me, (but) it's for a good cause."

During the night, there have been times Falkenstein has spotted a sea turtle laying eggs too close to the water.

"I must make a decision," Falkenstein said. "I'll get right behind the turtle, clear out some area, and catch the eggs as they drop."

Sea turtles are in a trance as they lay eggs, Falkenstein said.

"Once she starts laying you can hit her with a baseball bat and she'll continue laying."

Every day of the nesting season for more than two decades, Falkenstein has been at the beach looking for eggs, until this May when his youngest daughter was involved in a car accident.

On May 30, Heather Falkenstein, 25, was riding in the passenger seat of a friend's car when it hit a guardrail, and flipped over.

"The state police officer said he didn't think anyone would be alive," when he saw the vehicle, Falkenstein said, his voice low. "We have a miracle."

Heather sustained head injuries and had to be cut out of the car.

But today she is recovering at the Falkenstein home, although she said her memory has been affected.

Heather described her father as selfless and spoke about being his turtle helper as a child.

"When I was younger, I used to go out with him quite frequently," she said. "I would be speaking for him (to bystanders) while he took care of the nest. He has such a love for them. It was a fun experience growing up."

Heather said her father has had her under careful watch since the accident.

"He just gets so protective of me," she said. "I am the baby."

For the first time in two weeks, Falkenstein was reunited with his other "babies" on Tuesday.

"I can get back into my life starting soon," he said.

Falkenstein first became interested in sea turtles in 1978, when he saw a dead one on St. Pete Beach; the cause was unknown. Later that year, a St. Pete Beach police officer saw some turtle tracks in the sand and invited Falkenstein to take a look. That same year the first sea turtle nests in 20 years were found in Pass-a-Grille Beach. Falkenstein took it upon himself to become federally licensed to care for the sea turtles and has since worked with the Clearwater Marine Aquarium. Now, more than 25 years later, Falkenstein's eyes still glaze in wonder when he talks about "his girls."

"If you're ever blessed when she first comes out of the water, you'll see her shell is covered with phosphorous particles of sand that will light up her shell," he says dreamily. "It looks like fireflies on the back of a turtle."

Since the nesting season began this year, there have been two sea turtle nests found on St. Pete Beach. While Falkenstein has been away, officials from the Clearwater Marine Aquarium have been checking and documenting nests.

Glenn Harman, sea turtle coordinator at the aquarium, said Falkenstein is the only civilian permit holder in St. Pete Beach. Aquarium officials regularly check on nests in the surrounding beach locations.

The turtles that grace St. Pete Beach are called loggerhead sea turtles, known for their teardrop-shaped shell and large head and jaws.

"These turtles have been on this earth 15 million years," Harman said. "When the dinosaurs were here, they were laying eggs on the beaches."

Harman said loggerhead sea turtles are threatened because, for years, humans killed them for meat, eggs, leather and their tortoise shells.

"We need to make sure we're not the reason for their demise," he said.

Ateka Sanford, communications officer for the St. Pete Beach Police Department, said most people in the area know who Falkenstein is even if they don't know his name.

"If they don't know him by Bruno, they know him as 'the turtle guy,'" she said.

Sanford said every once in a while, extra hands are needed to protect the turtles and the police department doesn't hesitate to reach out. Sanford helped Falkenstein last July after just-born hatchlings were headed in the opposite direction of the water.

Sea turtles follow light and are sometimes confused by porch lights or other luminous light.

"I got to go out and help them," Sanford said. "It was awesome. We went and helped gathered up the turtles" to release into a darker area.

The sea turtles are lucky to have Falkenstein in their corner, Sanford said.

"If it wasn't for him, I don't know if we'd have the nesting that we do," she said.

Falkenstein calls his interest in sea turtles, "a wonderful sickness."

"Some people get addicted to gambling," he said. "Some people get addicted to fast cars. I'm addicted to sea turtles."

Falkenstein said because he owns a seafood restaurant, his passion pays his dues.

"We sell a lot of shrimp and thrive on seafood," he said. "It's nice to give back to Mother Nature."

When asked if it's difficult to balance family life with his sea turtle addiction, Falkenstein said not in the least.

"I don't have to balance because it's just an extension of my family," he said.

In fact, Falkenstein sees his love for sea turtles as something that will connect him with his family long after he's gone.

"I'm hoping my great-grandchild, when they see a sea turtle on St. Pete Beach, will be reminded that their great-grandfather might have touched its mother."

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