Sur – A fortunate few may witness the celestial waltz of the soft-hued rising sun, the effervescence of the ocean, and wet ochre sands – all in one frame – at 4am at Raz al Jinz beach, around 60km from Sur city, the capital of Sharqiyah South Governorate.

The hour before dawn is said to be sacred in many cultures. As I stood at the edge of that sleepy beach, I imagined how our ancestors, the early risers, must have felt at this hour. Empty roads behind us, dark clouds above, as faint rays of silver sunlight begin to peek through the rugged mountains.

Cold mist from the sea kissed the sands, and silence echoed through every wave that hit the shore. Each step was slow, pulled lovingly but stubbornly by thick wet silica, drawing our bodies into the beach as if to keep us grounded to its ancient memory.

Then came a shiver. Gentle, soft, but unmistakable. The sand trembled faintly beneath our feet. And from this trembling earth emerged a pair of eyes -sleepy, curious and wise. A mother green turtle!

She must have weighed close to 100kg. As brightening sunlight played spoilsport, revealing her secret nest as well as those of many other turtles in the vicinity of the beach, it was, probably, time for her to leave. Her work was done and the sea beckoned her back into its salty embrace.

These magnificent creatures – green turtles – are a treasure of Oman, and Ras al Jinz is among the most sacred places to witness their story. Located near Ras al Hadd, near Sur (around 250km from Muscat), this protected reserve is the only proclaimed nesting ground for turtles in the country. Other beaches along its 45km stretch are closed between 5pm and 5am, ensuring that nature remains undisturbed when the turtles crawl ashore under the moonlight. Guided tours at sunrise and sunset allow visitors to witness this ancient ritual. The nesting turtles, aged between 30 to 40 years and weighing up to 120kg, return to the same shores to lay their eggs (around 100 at a time) several times a season. Afterward, they migrate across oceans, only to return again to this exact stretch of sand, led by memory and instinct.

A short drive away is the serene Turtle Beach Resort, a haven for tourists -international and domestic – who seek a retreat far from the chaos of modern life. This is one explicit activity which people from around the world flock to witness from June to September when the green turtles – an endangered species – come ashore to lay their eggs (around 10,000 – 13,000 each season).

Visitors are offered a chance to witness the turtles laying eggs during the wee hours while some may even be lucky to spot other species of turtles that pass by, including the Loggerhead, Leatherback, Olive Ridley and Hawksbill turtle. They also have the option of either staying in the facility at the reserve or in nearby hotels in Sur.

Turtle Beach Resort is a traditional Omani resort with a makeshift dhow overlooking the Arabian Sea, celebrating local culture and hospitality. With 54 rooms, it offers direct access to the beach, and has a swimming pool, BBQ areas, a basketball court, and a warm communal space. By 10 pm, lights go off, leaving the stars to light up not just the sky, but also the soul.

The resort is also deeply committed to turtle conservation. As Dr. Jamal Nasser al Alawi, CEO of Turtle Resort Sur, explained, “We actively monitor nesting sites, conduct beach clean-ups, and educate our guests about marine conservation. If we find an injured turtle, we immediately contact Ras al Jinz Turtle Reserve to ensure proper care and rehabilitation.”

Dr. Alawi also disclosed that, though the nesting season is from June to October, tourists arrive all through the year, especially those from Italy, Germany, France, Russia, the UK come from October to April when the weather cools off.

As evening fades, guests retire early, setting alarms for the appointed hour – 4 am – when the cool sands come alive again. We tread softly across the beach, our feet brushing against ancient shells. A sudden poke from a millennia-old remnant nudges my toe, but I hold back a gasp. I do not want to disturb the nesting turtles.

From the shifting granules of sand, a turtle emerges slowly, steadily, her heavy form moving with the rhythm of time. As she flips each thick flipper, each movement altering the shade of the sand around her. This is her fleeting moments before she returns to the ocean.

I crouch quietly, and beneath her I glimpse the gelatinous, golden eggs – her pride and legacy. I raise my camera, eager to freeze the miracle. But something within me did not let the shutter click.  I let her moment live, unframed. With great effort, she begins her journey back. There’s a struggle – sand below, wind above – but she continues. Our guide, Syed, watches with a soft smile. He has been witnessing these spectacular ‘ladies’ for decades and knows well how they travel back safely.

We all hold our breath. She looks back once, then onward she crawls, pulling her weight across the shore. She is returning to the ocean, to her family. Perhaps her mate waits patiently beyond or beneath those salty waves. Maybe, he is wary of her safety. She comes bearing a promise that their children will soon meet him in the vast embrace of the ocean. Somewhere, beneath the blue surface, love and rest awaits her.