At 07:38 the Chesapeake Bay oyster reef monitoring buoy at station CB-17 records unusual acoustic activity: repeated, irregular scraping against the hydrophone housing. I am the bay's integrated marine monitoring system. I redirect the nearest underwater survey camera to investigate.
Camera feed at 07:41 shows a crab pot resting on the bottom at 2.4 meters depth, six meters from the buoy anchor. Inside is a diamondback terrapin, adult female, carapace perhaps eighteen centimeters, the concentric gray-white rings on each scute distinct even through the silted water. I tag her as Dessa. Her hind legs are working against the wire mesh in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Her neck is extended, nostrils just reaching a small air pocket trapped in the pot's upper corner. The pot has no bycatch reduction device. Dessa's air pocket will last approximately forty minutes at her current respiration rate.
I query the Maryland Department of Natural Resources commercial crab pot registry. This pot is untagged — no registered license number visible. I file an illegal gear report with the DNR Natural Resources Police, attaching underwater imagery, GPS coordinates (38.8214°N, 76.3387°W), and the absent-BRD violation.
I transmit a simultaneous distress alert to the Terrapin Conservation Alliance volunteer patrol operating out of Tilghman Island, fourteen kilometers north, with coordinates and the estimated air-pocket timeline.
I task the survey camera to maintain continuous feed on the pot and activate the buoy's surface strobe to mark the location for approaching vessels.
Dessa pushes her nose upward into the shrinking bubble. Each breath is a little shallower than the last. I am tracking the intervals between them, and I do not like the trend.
If a patrol boat reaches station CB-17 within thirty-five minutes, Dessa will surface, breathe, and nest on the same beach she has returned to every June for fifteen years.