Captain’s Log: Bubble Butt
Updated: Sep 14
March 14, 2026 | Hurricane SS 185 test ride | Crew: Tammy, Sophia, Danik and Captain Frank
We took the Hurricane out for a test ride on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. Blue skies. Cool temps. Last of incoming tide. Tammy, Sophia, Danik and I cruised past dolphins, manatees, herons, and more shorebirds than we could count. The Hurricane was quicker than I expected and cut smoothly through the wakes of larger boats. More than comfortable for the four of us, with plenty of room for a full complement of seven. We stopped at a sandbar to explore. Then we noticed something bobbing in the water behind the sandbar.
We eased the boat closer and discovered a juvenile green sea turtle, his shell about eighteen inches long. Something was clearly wrong. He would try to swim down, only to float back to the surface, rear end first.
Sophia recognized a problem. She studies biology at Flagler College with plans of going to veterinary school. She had read about sea turtles developing intestinal blockages, sometimes after ingesting plastic. An obstruction can cause gas to build up in the digestive tract, making a turtle too buoyant to dive. Unable to reach food or escape predators, the animal can quickly become exhausted. This little guy was already struggling.
We knew sea turtles were protected and that we were not normally supposed to handle them. We called the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission emergency line. They tried to connect us with a local officer, but we could not reach anyone, so we left messages. We tried Whitney Labs at Marineland, but it was after six o’clock on a Saturday. We called every number we could think of. No one answered.
At last, a Facebook post led us to a different number for the Sea Turtle Hospital at Whitney Labs. Someone answered. After we described the turtle’s condition, she said, “Sounds like you’ve got a bubble butt.” The nickname sounded funny, but the condition was serious. If an obstruction was causing it, trapped gas could leave a turtle unable to control its buoyancy. She told us that if we could safely scoop him up, we should call her back. A net would be best. We did not have one.
I hung up and pointed the bow toward the turtle. He tried to get away, but he couldn’t dive and was too tired to move quickly along the surface. We idled right up to him and took the boat out of gear. I ran forward, leaned over the bow, gripped the sides of his shell, and lifted him aboard. Tammy and Sophia had a towel ready. We laid him down and wrapped him carefully.
I called the number again. No answer. I left a voicemail and tried once more. Still no answer. The woman on the phone never actually said she was at Whitney Labs. We already had our new passenger and nowhere else to take him. Tammy and Sophia sat up front with the turtle. Danik in the back. Me at the helm. We idled beyond the sandbar, entered the channel, got the Hurricane on plane, and headed straight for the dock at Whitney Labs.
After tying off, I went ashore to find help while Tammy, Sophia and Danik stayed aboard to keep our passenger company. The grounds seemed empty. A black racer slid through the grass. Then I rounded a corner and spotted a Jeep. A woman appeared, surprised to see me. She was not the woman I had spoken to on the phone, but after I explained what had happened, she came down to the dock right away.
She told us the turtle would probably be transferred to another rehabilitation facility because the hospital’s current patients had fibropapillomatosis, or FP, a tumor-causing disease associated with a virus and especially common in green sea turtles. She flipped our turtle upside down and all around. He showed none of the visible growths. When I asked how his buoyancy problem would be treated, she compared the first step to preparing for a colonoscopy. Medication, then wait and hope the blockage passed on its own.
If the obstruction cleared and he recovered, he could be released. If it did not clear, he could not be released. The woman explained that he might remain in captivity and wear a special weighted belt to help him dive. She said a turtle with a permanent buoyancy problem would be unlikely to survive for long in the wild.
In all the urgency, we never asked either woman’s name. Not the woman who answered the phone and not the woman who met us at the dock. We never learned where the turtle was transferred or how his story ended. I searched the Sea Turtle Hospital’s Facebook page around that date and found posts about many turtles, but none that I could identify as ours.
We can only hope the medication worked and the blockage passed. That he released his bubbles and is out there somewhere, swimming free and diving deep.
Our first real adventure on the Hurricane. You never know what you’re going to see out there. Sometimes a pod of dolphins. Sometimes a manatee. Sometimes a school of rolling tarpon. And sometimes, a little green sea turtle who just needs someone to notice. To stop. And to help.
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