Betsy the broad-shelled turtle
Also called:
broad-shelled river turtle, side-necked
turtle, broad-shelled snake-neck
turtle
Chelodina expansa (more recently, Macrochelodina expansa)
Hello. I'm Betsy the broad-shelled turtle from Calamvale Creek in Brisbane, Australia. And I'm on my way to lay eggs.

I've been waiting for the right conditions for quite a while. Early this morning we had a good shower of rain, which softened the ground, and now the day is cool and cloudy. So this is the right time to come out from the murky bottom of the creek and find a nice spot in the sandy grass around the creek to lay my eggs.
Finding a spot to deposit eggs
OK. This looks like a nice quiet
spot. I'm a bit uncertain about all this egg-laying routine. I'm
now 11 years old, with a carapace (shell) that is almost 28
centimetres (11 inches) long, and I've just reached maturity.
This is the first time I've laid eggs.
I want to get the eggs buried in the ground this month, in May. The usual time for broad-shelled turtles to lay eggs is March-May — in autumn — before winter arrives. I like to hibernate over winter by burrowing into the mud on the creek bottom. Broad-shelled turtle eggs can take seven months to hatch if the ground temperature is warm enough, but if it is cool they may not hatch for more than a year.
My instinct tells me I should get away from the creek bank, because there are too many ducks, ibises, swamp hens and crazy dusky moorhens running all over the place there. I like privacy. So I've found this soft grassy spot about 50 metres from the creek that seems to be in a quiet neighbourhood. And the sandy soil has been softened by this morning's rain. Perfect!
Digging the hole for a nest

I use my back legs to excavate the hole. In the photo above my back left leg is in the hole scooping out the soil. My back right leg is scraping the soil backwards out of the way. (Clearer photo below.)
The hole is now 9 centimetres (4
inches) wide and seven centimetres (3 inches) deep. I plan to
make the hole 15 centimetres deep, so I am about half-way
there.
I will lay 10 or more hard-shelled eggs that are about 3.5 centimetres long, and then partly fill the nest with soil.
I will then mix a special body fluid into the rest of the soil and use it as a plug over the hole to help in the long incubation.
The importance of leaving me alone
Hey, what's this! A photographer
has arrived and is watching me. Oh no! I hate people looking over
my shoulder while I'm doing personal stuff. I wish he would go
away. Maybe if I pull my head in he will think I'm a rock, and
will leave me alone.
Now some other people have arrived. Oh dear! I wonder if I should abandon this whole egg-laying thing. I could just slip back to the creek and hide at the bottom and eat my favourite decapod crustaceans, aquatic bugs, and fish.
Back to the creek
Now the photographer has gone. But is he lurking nearby waiting to spy on me as soon I start depositing eggs? I think I'll have to get back to the creek where I feel safe.

Oh, I've got to cross this concrete path, and my neck is so long that it drags on the concrete. Ooch, ahhch, ouch — that burns.

At least I can now see the creek water, but that photographer is coming back from his walk. And those other people are taking photos too.
Lucky I can get my whole neck bent sideways under my carapace. They won't notice me now.
This is not a good environment for turtles to raise kids when people are gawking at you. I'm getting back to that creek as fast as I can.

People have to know they must leave us alone if they see us laying eggs. This has been such a bad experience I don't know when I'll want to lay eggs again. This just hasn't been a good day for me.
— Betsy the broad-shelled turtle
Happy note …
The turtle returns … and lays her
eggs
See Betsy Part 2