A decade ago, I found myself kneeling on a beach in Morong, Bataan, watching newly hatched sea turtles crawl toward the sea for the very first time. It remains one of the most unforgettable moments I've experienced while traveling. Tiny hatchlings, each no larger than half the palm of my hand, instinctively making their way toward an uncertain future with only a slim chance of survival, reminded me that some of the world's most extraordinary wildlife encounters don't require you to go on a safari. Sometimes, all you need to do is witness nature on its own terms.
Sea Turtle Conservation in Bagac, Bataan: Witnessing a Pawikan Hatchling Release
Fast forward to 2026, I found myself witnessing that remarkable scene once again in Bataan—this time along the shores of Bagac, home to the Pag-Asa Pawikan Protection and Conservation Center Corp. (3P3C), a community-led non-governmental organization established by conservation advocate John Harry Carreon. The Pag-Asa Pawikan Protection and Conservation Center in Bagac is among the most active sea turtle conservation initiatives in Bataan.
I joined filmmaker Eric Gamorot of Philippine Aerial Cinema and fellow storyteller at Stories of the Road, who was documenting the pawikan conservation efforts in Bataan. We left Manila shortly after noon and reached Bagac by mid-afternoon, arriving just as students from De La Salle University were beginning their educational visit.
Watching the students eagerly learn about sea turtle conservation, I realized that centers like this deserve to be recognized not only as wildlife sanctuaries but also as educational destinations. Conservation begins with awareness, and few classrooms can provide more learning than a beach where endangered sea turtles return to the very shore where they once hatched—this time as adults about to lay their own eggs.
A Community That Chose Conservation
Pag-Asa Pawikan Protection and Conservation Center Corp. was started during the global shutdown caused by the pandemic. "We started in 2020 as a response to the rampant poaching of sea turtle eggs during the pandemic," explained Mon Barranda, Conservationist member of 3P3C. "Many locals lost their jobs and couldn't leave their communities. When the turtles came ashore to lay eggs, people saw them as an alternative source of food or income."
Ironically, Barranda admitted that harvesting turtle eggs had once been normal even within his own family. "My father worked as a lifeguard," he recalled. "Before reporting for duty, he would inspect the beach. If he found a turtle nest, he'd collect the eggs and bring them home. The next morning, those eggs became our breakfast."
Today, the same community that once consumed turtle eggs has become one of their strongest protectors.
Watching Seven Hundred Hatchlings Begin Their Journey
As the afternoon faded into a golden sunset, volunteers carefully prepared hundreds of hatchlings for release, placing them in plastic basins filled with gray sand from the beach. Students from De La Salle then did the honors of gently tilting the basins onto the shore, allowing more than 700 baby sea turtles to slowly emerge onto the fine gray sand. Instinctively, the hatchlings made their way toward the sunlit horizon, seeing the sea as their way home.
The tiny hatchlings shuffled over the sand with effort, occasionally tumbling over small mounds before continuing forward. As the waves finally pulled them into the water, some briefly lifted their tiny heads above the surface, almost as if taking one last look at the shore where their lives had begun.
The moment was mesmerizing. Yet behind the beauty of the scene lay a sobering truth. Studies estimate that fewer than one percent of sea turtle hatchlings survive to adulthood. Predators, pollution, fishing gear, and habitat loss claim most of them long before they ever return to these same beaches decades later to lay eggs of their own.
According to the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) Red List , several sea turtle species found in the Philippines are classified as threatened, making every successful nesting season and hatchling release even more significant. Protecting nesting grounds is not simply an environmental initiative—it is of utmost importance if we want the next generations to witness sea turtle hatchlings making their survival crawl to the sea.
The Night Patrol
As darkness settled over Bagac, we joined the Pawikan Rangers for their nightly patrol. Before heading out, Barranda reminded everyone to keep the beach clean and avoid unnecessary lights.
"Sea turtle hatchlings naturally follow light," he explained. "That's why we release them at sunset—they use the remaining natural light over the ocean as their guide." It would take a few hours into that night until we found what every ranger hopes to see.
We probably walked more than a couple of kilometers, even passing through the grounds of Las Casas Filipinas de Acuzar, whose security guards kindly allowed us to cross despite it being close to midnight. Following instructions from a team of drone operators accompanying us, we headed toward a pitch-black stretch of beach. They had brought a high-tech thermal drone capable of detecting the heat signatures of animals—even those buried beneath the sand.
The drone led us away from the illuminated shoreline of Las Casas, where a pawikan ranger took over. Reading the faint tracks left on the sand, he followed the sea turtle's trail until it ended at a small hill of sand. Keeping the disturbance to a minimum, he aimed his flashlight beside the nest rather than directly into it. The dim light was enough to reveal what lay within—a large female sea turtle who had found the perfect place to lay her eggs.
For nearly ten minutes she moved around examining the sand before beginning to dig with her powerful hind flippers. If she encountered buried driftwood, rocks, or other pieces of trash, she simply moved an inch away.
That scene reminded me that even a small piece of beach litter can prevent successful nesting by turning the mother turtle away. Once satisfied, she began laying her eggs. During this stage, the rangers asked us to remain completely still. "When she's already depositing her eggs, she should never be disturbed," Barranda whispered.
After carefully covering the nest, the mother turtle slowly crawled her way back into the darkness, returning to the sea without looking back. She was the epitome of, "My job here is done," leaving the fate of her eggs to the mercy of nature and humans.
Unlike birds and even crocodiles and snakes, sea turtles possess no post-nesting maternal care. They excavate a nest, deposit their eggs, bury them beneath the sand, and leave forever. Their offspring will hatch entirely on their own. "See you when I see you," I imagined every mother turtle saying to her eggs.
This is where conservation groups like 3P3C play a vital role. Before rising tides or predators can destroy the nests, trained rangers carefully collect the eggs and relocate them to a protected hatchery, where they remain undisturbed until they hatch.
Redemption Arc: From Poachers to Protectors
The other inspiring part of the conservation story in Bagac aside from the turtles, is about the people behind it. "Our rangers have gone full circle," Barranda said. "They were poachers before. Now they're protectors of the very sea turtles they once exploited."
Rather than simply criminalizing wildlife poachers, the organization worked with communities, offering alternative livelihoods and a renewed sense of purpose.
"We just wanted to give people the dignity of earning a living," he said. "At the end of the day, everyone just wanted to survive."
That transformation is reflected in the numbers. According to 3P3C founder John Harry Carreon, their hatchery now achieves approximately a 91 percent hatching success rate, a remarkable improvement made possible through continuous training, community participation, and careful monitoring.
"We've come to understand the importance of protecting sea turtles," Carreon said. "Every year, the number of eggs we collect changes, but overall, we're seeing an upward trend."
Conservation Meets Technology
Protecting kilometers of coastline every night is no easy task. Fortunately, technology is beginning to help.
Nathaniel Ablasa, President of SkyPixel Aerial Photography Services and Head Instructor of DJI Philippines, demonstrated a thermal drone capable of detecting the subtle heat signatures of nesting sea turtles from the air.
Within minutes of launching the drone, it identified a heat signature several kilometers away—almost simultaneously with a ranger on foot reporting a turtle sighting over the radio.
"This technology can identify anything producing heat," Ablasa explained. "Even though sea turtles are cold-blooded, they still generate enough thermal difference for the drone to detect them. It improves safety while allowing conservation teams to monitor a much larger area."
The same technology can also be used for search-and-rescue operations, disaster response, mapping, and wildlife monitoring. The equipment certainly comes with a hefty price tag.
But considering how frequently public funds disappear into unnecessary projects, investing in tools that directly strengthen conservation efforts—and training local communities to use them—seems like money well spent.
Sharing the Planet
Before leaving Bagac, one thought lingered long after the hatchlings had vanished beneath the waves. "I feel that more than taking care of the sea turtles, we're changing lives," Barranda reflected. "The responsibility of caring for the planet shouldn't rest only on conservation centers. It should be shared by everyone."
Coastlines transformed into concrete developments, beach resorts, and seawalls are shrinking the nesting grounds of sea turtles with each passing year, making conservation initiatives like those of the Pag-Asa Pawikan Protection and Conservation Center more vital than ever.
Mother sea turtles begin nesting around July, sometimes as early as June, with activity peaking in October, November, and December. A single female can lay more than 100 eggs in one nest, which typically incubate for 45 to 70 days. As a result, the peak hatching season usually falls between December and February.
Barranda then added the most important reminder of all. "We have to understand that we're sharing this planet with them. If you remove species like sea turtles from an ecosystem, there's a chance that the ecosystem itself could collapse."
Watching hundreds of hatchlings disappear into the sea, it became impossible not to think about that shared responsibility.
Only a few will survive. But because a community in Bagac chose protection over exploitation, awareness over apathy, those tiny turtles now have something they never had before—a fighting chance.
Best Time to See Sea Turtle Hatchlings in Bagac
Sea turtle nesting season in Bagac typically begins in June or July, peaks from October to December, and hatchlings are most commonly released between December and February, depending on incubation conditions.
Frequently Asked Questions
Where is Pag-Asa Pawikan Conservation Center?
It is located along the coastal shores of Bagac, Bataan, serving as a community-led conservation hub and sanctuary for marine turtle protection.
What species of sea turtles nest in Bagac?
Olive Ridley sea turtles are the primary and most common species that return to nest along the coastal beaches of Bataan.
Can tourists join hatchling releases?
Yes, visitors, students, and eco-tourists can witness and participate in scheduled educational sea turtle hatchling releases organized by the conservation center.
How long do turtle eggs incubate?
Sea turtle eggs typically incubate in protected sand hatcheries for about 45 to 70 days before hatching.
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