Of all the odd traits of sea turtles, the most joyful is that they’re ticklish. My family learns this as Laura Gross, a young American volunteer aboard a floating turtle hospital off the coast of southern China, hauls one of her patients, a big hawksbill turtle named William Blake, out of his net-bound pool. “When this big guy came in, he was so weak he couldn’t raise his head,” Gross explains as William flaps at the air with his flippers. “We had to keep him in a life jacket until he could lift his head out of the water to breathe.”
Gross wiggles her index finger across William’s neck. “Right here,” she points. William slows his flapping and seems to turn, exposing more of the yellowish green skin behind his head for her to scratch. My daughter, Alice, intrigued, steps forward to rub William’s loose and sensitive skin down where his flipper attaches to his heavy shell. Alice is 13 and was raised as the daughter of a journalist in Beijing, a capital of 16 million people and roughly zero sea turtles, unless you count the ones served in restaurants or pulverized in traditional medicine stores. She’s fascinated by the turtle hospital, and a few minutes later she’s helping brush algae-like growth from William’s shell as Gross keeps up a steady lecture on turtles (their shells pick up vibrations and help them to hear; their heads contain a compass that detects the earth’s magnetic field). …
Click here to read more in the Spring 2012 issue of The Ritz-Carlton Magazine
Standing on the 18th green of the Gold Course at Tiburón Golf Club, located at The Ritz-Carlton Golf Resort, Naples in Florida, I can’t resist the urge to hold out my putter like a periscope, squat behind the ball until my knees brush the grass and study the 6-foot grass runway that separates me from the hole. All morning, I’ve been taking a little extra time over my shots, double-checking my yardages and consciously avoiding hitting driver off every tee. On other days — and other courses — I’m just another weekend golfer wrestling with his game. But today something is different: I feel like a pro.
A year ago on this very green, at the annual Shark Shootout (now known as the Franklin Templeton Shootout), American prodigy Dustin Johnson shook off the effects of near misses at the U.S. Open and PGA Championship, and partnered with flamboyant Brit Ian Poulter to claim the title. Two weeks after my time on the Gold Course, Keegan Bradley and Brendan Steele topped the field, becoming the first PGA Tour rookies to win the Shootout.
Adding to the fantasy, the resort, stately Mediterranean-style clubhouse and practice facilities feel a world apart from your local municipal course. Earlier this morning, as I looked out the window of my room, I could see the gleaming metal grandstand rising above the 18th green. And as I explored the locker room inside the clubhouse and warmed up on the sprawling practice tee, I kept expecting to run into Rickie Fowler or Camilo Villegas — two of the young pros in the 2011 field. …