Common sense hides under a shellRick Estberg of Severna Park, who had most of his turtles confiscated by state wildlife officials, holds one of the four he was able keep. He hopes the state will reconsider.
By ERIC HARTLEY, Staff Writer
For 15 years, Rick Estberg has been the "turtle man" in his Severna Park neighborhood.
People bring him turtles they find, sometimes sick or injured ones, and he takes them in. Kids come over to ask if they can see or hold one of the creatures.
He's turned a fenced-off corner of his back yard into a little reptile paradise, with old plastic mailboxes on their sides so the turtles can get out of the rain and dead Christmas trees for them to burrow into.
Until recently, Mr. Estberg had a dozen Eastern box turtles. He said the state had known about this for years. Every year, when he sent in his form and paid his $25 license fee, Mr. Estberg listed the species on the form and wrote that he had 12 of them.
There were no problems until about a month ago, when he got a call from the Natural Resources Police. They needed to come talk about the turtles.
Within minutes of showing up, two officers and a civilian wildlife inspector were going to get crates to take them away.
It turns out a person is only allowed to have one Eastern box turtle taken from the wild. The Estbergs were able to keep four, but only through some quick thinking. They reasoned that Rick's wife, Lucie, and their two sons should each be allowed to keep one as well.
So Mr. Estberg had half an hour to pick out his favorites. He almost cried.
When police first called, they told him they try to work out problems like this amicably. Mr. Estberg thought that meant he'd be able to keep his turtles, especially after the visitors saw what care he'd taken with them.
Clearly, he'd forgotten he was dealing with the government.
Everyone was nice, even sympathetic, but there was no budging. Mr. Estberg said he'd pay whatever license fees the state wanted, promised not to take in any more turtles, offered to let the state inspect and monitor him as closely as they wished. No, no and no.
"They have a job. I certainly understand that," Mr. Estberg said. "I think you have to be able to have a little common sense while you're doing things, too."
Natural Resources Police said the problem with Mr. Estberg's turtles came to light during a "routine permit inspection." Sgt. Ken Turner, a police spokesman, said officers took no pleasure in seeing the animals seized.
"We can't pick and choose what violations or what regulations we're going to enforce," Sgt. Turner said.
And it's reasonable to argue that if one person gets an exception, everyone else is going to want special treatment, too.
But governments make exceptions to the rules all the time - for some people. If you're a rich developer who illegally builds a mansion on an island with no permits, sure, we can make an exception. If you're a guy with some turtles, sorry, rules are rules.
It's true, the law is right there in black and white: Of the reptiles possessed by an individual, "only one Eastern box turtle may have been taken from the wild."
But wait. There's also a Department of Natural Resources Web site that reads: "You need a permit if you possess more than 1 individual of each reptile or amphibian from List B. Only Eastern Box Turtles may have been obtained from the wild."
Note it says "turtles" plural. What is a citizen more likely to look at, an easily found DNR Web site or the Code of Maryland Regulations 08.03.11.05A(3)?
I visited Mr. Estberg, a 53-year-old National Security Agency employee, at his home to talk about how he came to be the turtle man.
"To me they're fascinating animals," he said.
Weighing around 1 pound, they have vivid colors and can live as long as humans, 75 to 80 years. They hibernate underground from mid-October to mid-April. And the rest of the year, they eat bugs, tomatoes, strawberries, dog food and their favorite, worms.
Mr. Estberg names them - yes, one is "Yertle" - and cares for them as tenderly as any parent, giving them vitamin A to prevent a common deficiency that can lead to blindness. At first he used a syringe; he's since gotten a veterinarian to prescribe it. He even became an "amateur surgeon," using an X-Acto knife to relieve an ear infection.
His other eight turtles were taken to an animal rescue operation in Laurel run by Holly Friedland. When the DNR first called her, she said it would be best if the turtles were left where they were.
"That was just my personal opinion," Ms. Friedland told me. "I sympathize with him, and I understand that he was trying to do a good thing. But he didn't go about it legally, so there's really nothing anybody can do to help him."
And now Mr. Estberg is left with the bitter realization that if he had never told the state about his turtles, he'd still have them. He had no idea about the rules until several years ago, when someone mentioned them to him casually.
"Then I start doing the right thing and start paying the money, and they come and take them away," he said.
What a good lesson: Sometimes, if you play by the rules, you get burned.
Contact Eric Hartley at ehartley@capitalgazette.com or 410-280-5950.