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Independent, active families will treasure their time at this eco-friendly villa compound and turtle conservation area.

We clicked off our flashlights and were enveloped in darkness, the only light coming from the reflection of the stars and moon off the sea. We'd set our plastic bins down in front of us in the sand and the scrabbling and scratching noises became more pronounced. As I look down at the moving mass of tiny leathery flippers and jagged-edged shells in my bin, I could see the turtles were hell bent on moving out.

We gently tipped over the bins and began to spread the baby turtles out along the waterline. Some ended up facing the water and began to run for it, using their thick long flippers and stout back legs to propel themselves into the foamy surf. Others faced backwards, and with an uncanny instinct, turned a quarter turn, stopped, and sensing some ancient innate knowledge, turned again and began to clamber toward the water.

A few babies seemed confused and tired, and I couldn't help but think about their long journey ahead. Our protection gave them a head start that they wouldn't have had if they had hatched in their nests and had to run across the sand past voracious crabs and predatory birds on their way to the surf. But even with a secret nighttime release they would somehow have to maneuver their tiny bodies through the crashing waves and out into the open water. Only 1% would survive to return and lay their eggs.

The stretch of coast we were working on is called Costa Tortuga, or Turtle Coast, because it is an important nesting ground for Olive Ridley sea turtles that have lumbered ashore here for centuries to lay their eggs. About a two-hour drive north of Puerto Vallarta, the coast is somewhat undeveloped and hosts several turtle camps that have been set up by the Mexican government to help protect the Ridleys and other species of turtles that lay their eggs on the beaches.