In the northeast corner of Maryland flows a mighty river that not only helped carve out the Chesapeake Bay but is home to one of Maryland’s rarely seen endangered turtles. To most residents the Susquehanna River is probably no more then a scenic landscape seen for thirty seconds from high atop the Interstate 95 bridge. How many of you have had a chance to climb down its rocky shores and brave swift currents to experience one of our state’s most beautiful locations? I have hiked around most of the state and lived in the area all of my life but only visited Susquehanna State Park for the first time a few years ago. This hidden treasure feels like a transplant from the Appalachians far to the west with its rocky islands and dense forests.
Through my personal research I read about a small, isolated population of common map turtles located in this few mile stretch of the river that terminates within our state. As one can infer by their name they have a map-like pattern on their shells and the “common” prefix suggests these turtles are quite numerous in other portions of their range. For us here in Maryland however, they are unique. The first time I made it out to the river I was ill-equipped to find map turtles. Armed with only a wide angle camera lens and restricted to the shoreline I assumed that these turtles where something only an experienced biologist would be able to locate and I may not ever see one. As I was leaving the park I came across a man looking out at the river with a spotting scope. Accustomed to seeing various bird watchers on my excursions I assumed this gentleman was spotting one of the many bald eagles which inhabit the park. My curious nature drove me to inquire about what he was looking at. As the man turned to me I realized it was Dr. Richard Siegel, one of the herpetology professors from Towson University that I had seen at some of the turtle conservation meetings I had attended. My hopes started to increase that I may have found the right guy. He said he was in fact looking for map turtles and it was too cloudy that day to find any but got me in touch with one of his graduate students, Teal Richards, who was doing a research project on map turtles in the Susquehanna.
Upon contacting Teal I found out that one her most arduous tasks was to capture a select group of the turtles and attach a radio transmitter to their shell. On a daily basis she would paddle up and down the river, using radio telemetry to mark locations of specific turtles in the water and basking so data could be compiled on population movements throughout the year. She had been kind enough to agree to let me tag along while she worked. Having some technology to assist us in finding the turtles would be a huge advantage over what I have been used to when on my own. Even with the ability to track the turtles, she warned me that it is still incredibly difficult to get close.
On the next warm weekend, now owning a 70-300mm telephoto lens for my digital SLR I felt my chances of obtaining a quality photo had increased exponentially. With my waterproof camera bag in hand I met up with Teal to trek out onto the river via kayak. Being a fairly resourceful herper I feel I might have eventually found at least a few of the turtles but heck, it’s always nice to have a guide and I’m not one to pass up the company of a fellow turtle enthusiast. I followed Teal out to some of the large rock outcroppings littered throughout the expansive river. I saw movement and fumbled for my camera. Zooming through the morning haze I exhaled with disappointment when I saw the long, keeled tail that could only belong to a common snapping turtle. We paddled further into the clear cool waters towards one of the larger islands. I could see something on one of the rocks far in the distance that looked like no more then a brown discoloration. Then the spot moved and splashed into the river. I began to realize that actually capturing one of these turtles on camera was going to be incredibly difficult.
Much like red-bellied and spotted turtles, the “common” or northern map turtle is very shy and not as prone to letting you approach them as a painted turtle might be. I quickly learned that I had my work cut out for me when I saw a group of several map turtles about a hundred feet in front of me. Worried I would go home without any evidence of even seeing one, I took a shot at full zoom. I could barely make out the turtles in the picture because focusing is tough from a kayak in moving water even at close range, let alone at these distances. My images were blurred and difficult to recognize the species other then the shape and yellow striping on the head. I had to get closer. I attempted to paddle up to the group but they quickly plummeted into the depths of the river.
After getting frustrated trying to get close in the kayak, I made an attempt to get in the water and snorkel for map turtles lying on the river bottom after diving in off their basking rock. I brought with me a waterproof point & shoot digital camera so I figured this was my chance to get an image of a map turtle underwater. The water was a bit cloudy in sections but it was still somewhat easy to navigate. I kicked my way over to where I saw a group of six enter the river. It wasn’t much of a surprise that they are even faster in the water then out. I was successful in spotting many map turtles that day but still no photographs to speak of. The sun began to creep down behind the tree line and I knew I would have to return another day.
Giving up is not generally in my nature so a few weeks later I called up Teal for another shot at getting some closer encounters with the map turtles. This time, a much sunnier day, yielded a much greater number of basking turtles with many rocks covered in three, four, and even a dozen map turtles. This time I learned from my mistakes and pushed away my impatience. I knew I had to be stealthier and play the waiting game that a true wildlife photographer knows all too well. My efforts were successful and I not only was able to creep up on basking map turtles by obscuring my careful movements behind other rocks, but was able to wait out a few climbing out of the river to return to their basking spots.
Map turtles are an incredible species. I hadn’t had any real exposure to them prior to my time on the river and all I could think about when I would see them out there is how much they reminded me of diamondback terrapins. The females are quite large with large heads and powerful jaws for crushing mollusks. The males are much smaller with long, thick tails. If you changed the coloration and markings you almost couldn’t tell the difference between the two species. Through further research I learned that they are closely related and have a common ancestor which was no surprise. The map turtle is the closest thing to a freshwater terrapin that I have ever seen. Their habitat in Maryland is as unique as that of the bog turtle, spotted turtle, or wood turtle in its own way. They have found their way into this isolated stretch of river, fragmented at the top and bottom of a large hydroelectric dam, far away from the bulk of their species.
While the northern map turtle in Maryland may be flourishing in this tiny space, they are in danger. Their habitat is threatened by waterfront development that puts their limited nesting beaches at great risk. Their livelihood is in peril from high water levels when the dam water is released, reducing proper basking areas. Their future is in jeopardy from nest predation and the harsh conditions the young have to survive to reach adulthood. The research is ongoing and will likely yield many exciting new findings about the behavior and sustainability of Maryland’s population. They may not be rare throughout most of their range but those within our borders should be treated with the respect and attention of any other endangered species. I am grateful to have gotten to get up close to these amazing creatures in one of our state’s most beautiful protected stretches of land.
