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In a secret location in New Jersey, a turtle whisperer cares for trafficked animals

Box turtles are one of many species looked after by the Turtle Conservancy. The group cares for illegally trafficked turtles once they’re confiscated.
Nathanael Stanek
/
The Turtle Conservancy
Box turtles are one of many species looked after by the Turtle Conservancy. The group cares for illegally trafficked turtles once they’re confiscated.

In north-central New Jersey, Maurice Rodrigues has a sizable backyard, and it’s filled with enclosures and tanks he’s built. They're teeming with turtles.

“I’m at about the 200 mark,” he says. “If I had room here, I would have thousands of turtles.”

Rodrigues walks over to an outdoor pen filled with shrubs and plants. Inside are box turtles, each with a dark shell splashed with bright yellow or orange. “I would put this species up against any other turtle species on the planet in terms of beauty,” says Rodrigues, “and that’s what makes them valuable.”

And by valuable, he means at risk of being poached. This pen contains 98 box turtles that were among those confiscated at the LAX airport last year. “They were headed out to the pet trade in Asia,” says Rodrigues.

When the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service found these turtles stuffed into multiple suitcases, each one had been duct taped shut and placed in a sock. “Smuggling trade is just a cruel thing for the animals with the stress and everything. It’s just terrible,” Rodrigues says.

This is where Rodrigues enters the picture. He’s co-founder of the Turtle Conservancy, a group that cares for illegally trafficked turtles once they’re confiscated. The team nurses them back to health with the hope of returning them to the wild.

It’s an end game that, until recently, wasn’t possible. But now, DNA technology has become good enough and cheap enough that Rodrigues and his colleagues can use the genetics of certain species to pinpoint an individual’s rough origins.

Rodrigues points to eight wood turtles in a temporary tub. They’ve been matched to a population living in Pennsylvania and the state has agreed to release them into the wild. Another release recently occurred in New Jersey.

Sometimes, Rodrigues says, turtles come from a part of the world in turmoil or without sufficient law enforcement so repatriation isn’t feasible since they’ll just be poached again.

In fact, the Turtle Conservancy houses 32 turtles from outside the U.S., including Australia, Brazil, the Congo, China, India, Indonesia, New Guinea, and Uruguay. One of Rodrigues’ favorites comes from Myanmar — a big green Burmese roofed turtle with a distinctive upturned nose and what looks like a perpetual smile. This is the only animal that Rodrigues has named.

Maurice Rodrigues holds a Burmese narrow headed soft shell turtle from Myanmar — the only female of its kind known to be in captivity. Rodrigues’ son, Noah, looks on from behind.
Ari Daniel /
Maurice Rodrigues holds a Burmese narrow headed soft shell turtle from Myanmar — the only female of its kind known to be in captivity. Rodrigues’ son, Noah, looks on from behind.

“Her name is Ruby because Myanmar is known for its ruby trade,” he says. “It’s like the most precious gem that they have, and she’s my most precious gem here at my house.”

Rodrigues has plans to build a special greenhouse for her. “I want to build it big enough where I can go snorkel with her,” he says. “Just go swimming whenever I want with her.”

Fumiji Aoki, Rodrigues’ partner, can attest to the fact that he’s a turtle softie. For instance, the two of them have fed sick turtles with chopsticks. “Do you know he hauls all the leaves from my neighborhood so that he can pile the leaves in the turtle pen?” she says.

Rodrigues nods his head. “So they have a nice, warm blanket over them during the winter,” he says. “They love it.”

For some turtle species, this exposure to the seasons is necessary for breeding. “Give them that cool period where they go a little dormant, they rest basically,” he says. “And then [in the] spring, temperatures start to rise, that's when they get active in the breeding season.”

Rodrigues says breeding is “important if a turtle is becoming extinct or there’s a problem in the habitat. You need to be able to set up an insurance colony.”

A few minutes later, Rodrigues holds up a saw-shelled turtle from Australia, about the size of a dinner plate. “Hold on, I want to show you something,” he says. “If you take your finger, here, get your finger and push in here.”

Rodrigues demonstrates. “She’s full of eggs,” he says with wonder. “You can feel the eggs! It’s probably gonna be in the next few weeks she’ll want to lay those eggs.”

Once the little turtles hatch, Rodrigues will bring them inside. “We’re going to raise those babies up until they’re strong enough where a bird can’t get them,” he says.

He admires the mother turtle for a moment longer before he lowers her back into the water. She slips away to create a new batch of little turtles — babies that Rodrigues will shower with the affection that all the turtles here have come to flourish on.

Copyright 2024 NPR

Ari Daniel is a reporter for NPR's Science desk where he covers global health and development.