We returned to the Marine and Coastal Resources Research Center in Rayong—this time under heavy monsoon skies and with two broadcasters joining us to experience our conservation journey firsthand. The timing couldn’t have been more intense: the monsoon season had brought with it an influx of sick and injured turtles. The ponds were full, and the vet team was overwhelmed.

Even the veterinarian we were supposed to meet that morning was called away unexpectedly—he had to investigate the sudden death of a dolphin found near his neighborhood. It was a clear glimpse into the heavy and often unpredictable workload marine vets shoulder, working tirelessly between urgent cases and long-term care.

Despite the weather and the pressure, we rolled up our sleeves and dove in—literally and figuratively. One of the most touching moments was feeding baby fish to blind turtles. Without sight, they relied solely on their senses, taking each bite slowly and cautiously.

We also helped clean the pond, scrubbing away slippery grime with Scotch-Brite pads—not only from the pond floor but also from the shells of our turtle patients. It felt like giving them a well-deserved spa treatment. Some turtles lay wrapped in blankets with eye protectors on—looking peaceful, but in reality, struggling with respiratory issues that prevented them from diving underwater.

Later in the day, we supported the vet team in tending to wounds—mostly on flippers—caused by entanglements with fishing nets. Every scar told a story of survival.

And perhaps the most rewarding part of all: we were there to witness two grown-up turtles finally released back into the sea. Watching them crawl toward the waves was a powerful reminder that every small act of care adds up to something much greater.

It was a day full of mud, rain, sweat, and smiles. A day that reminded us that healing the ocean isn’t always glamorous—but it’s always worth it.