A red glow appears down the beach and is soon followed by the muffled sound of a four-stroke engine. Mark Dodd stops the ATV near the small group and turns off the engine, shaking his head.

“Nothing,” he says quietly, swinging his leg over the seat.

It is 3 a.m., but this has been the scene on Jekyll Island beach since 9 p.m., when the “turtle watch” began. Every hour, on the hour, Dodd, sea turtle state coordinator with the Georgia Department of Natural Resources, drives slowly down the beach in one direction, while another researcher drives off in the other, looking, hoping. But no turtles come out of the water on this night–or many other nights this summer.

“In 2003 we had more than 1,500 nests in Georgia,” says Dodd. “And we know from our data that nesting is highly variable from year to year. But anytime we see fewer than 400 nests in one year, it’s cause for concern.”

Loggerhead sea turtles have been nesting along Georgia’s beaches and barrier islands for 10 million years. Scientists say thousands of females once hauled onto the beaches at night, patiently digging holes to incubate their 115 or so round, leathery eggs before disappearing back into the dark surf.

“They have so many obstacles to overcome that nesting represents a great triumph,” says Jason Scott, wildlife graduate student in the University of Georgia’s Warnell School of Forestry and Natural Resources.

Scott and major professor Steven Castleberry joined Dodd and a team of other scientists and volunteers–including WSFR undergraduate Glenn Martin–in research last summer that uses satellite telemetry to document the turtles’ movements during and after the nesting season. The turtles’ movements will be compared with the distribution of shrimpers, who trawl the waters just off shore. Findings will guide management recommendations to protect adult loggerhead sea turtles and their preferred pathways.

“We wanted to follow as many females as possible because they are so important to this recovery,” says Scott.

Because it requires an enormous amount of energy, females only nest every few years, making an average four nests in a season at two week intervals. Females don’t begin breeding and nesting until they’re 30 to 35 years old. But since 1989, when state wildlife officials began keeping track, Georgia’s loggerheads have been declining about one percent a year. And in 2004, less than 100 females nested on all of Georgia’s beaches, the fewest ever recorded.

“Seventy turtles washed up dead in just one two-week period in June,” says Scott with a deep sigh. “And these are significant losses when you’re talking about a species that’s on the threatened list.”

In the ocean, the turtles encounter natural predators but many more unnatural dangers–ship propellers, pollution, dredging, oil slicks, discarded fishing gear and ingested plastic and styrofoam. Commercial fishing, which drowns turtles in deep sea nets, trawl lines and hooks, is by far the most ominous threat to loggerheads, killing between 5,000 and 50,000 a year along the East Coast. Once ashore, nesting females must negotiate beachfront development, disorienting bright lights, troublesome humans and pets and beach erosion.

“The Turtle Exclusion Devices (TEDs) are 97 percent effective when used properly,” says UGA wildlife ecologist Steven Castleberry. “But many shrimpers believe that TEDs hurt their catch, and some adjust the TED to reduce shrimp losses, which also reduces the chances turtles will escape.”

The researchers spread out along Georgia’s coast at night, waiting for nesting females to come ashore on Jekyll, Cumberland and Sapelo Islands. Once a female finished nesting, researchers sprang to action, scraping barnacles off the shells so they could attach two small transmitters. The first, a satellite transmitter, emits a signal only when the turtle breaks the water’s surface. The signal is picked up by orbiting satellites and sent to researchers’ computers, allowing them to plot turtle movements on a map. The second emits a sonic signal, like those from a submarine that can be tracked under water. Researchers tagged 12 turtles in all last summer.

“Now that nesting season is over, the females move to their feeding grounds, presumably up North to Delaware Bay and New Jersey,” says Scott, “but we don’t know exactly where or how long they stay there. We hope the transmitters will allow us to track them for at least a year.”

Georgia school children took part in the research project from classrooms across the state. More than 1,200 kids, K through 5th grade, participated in a contest last spring to name the research turtles. They dubbed the turtles Tea Cake, Bon Jour, Cherokee Rose, Aurora and Oki in honor of the eight countries participating in the G-8 Summit, held on Sea Island at the height of nesting season. They’re now able to track individual turtles in real-time online at the web site seaturtle.org.

People who visit the web site can “adopt” a research turtle and follow her through the year. Researchers hope to generate enough interest–and funds–through the web site to repeat the project next year and track another dozen or so turtles.

“The lesson of loggerhead sea turtles is one of endurance,” says DNR’s Dodd. “We’re serious about protecting sea turtles in Georgia, but because they travel so far and wide, it’s important to find out what threats they face elsewhere. We want to give them every opportunity to survive and reproduce.”

Funding for the project came from the Georgia DNR, UGA, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the U.S. Naval Base at Kings Bay, the Environmental Resources Network, the National Fish and Wildlife Foundation, Cumberland Island National Seashore, Jekyll Island Sea Turtle project and the Wildlife Conservation Society.