Coral reefs can be healed
Everton Simpson steers the boat to an unmarked spot off Jamaica he knows as the ‘‘coral nursery’’. ‘‘It’s like a forest under the sea,’’ he says, before swimming straight down 7.5 metres.
On the ocean floor, small coral fragments dangle from suspended ropes, like socks hung on a laundry line.
Simpson and other divers tend to this underwater nursery as gardeners mind a flowerbed – slowly and painstakingly plucking off snails and fireworms that feast on immature coral.
When each stub grows to about the size of a human hand, Simpson collects them in his crate to individually ‘‘transplant’’ them on to a reef.
Even fast-growing coral species add just a few inches a year. It’s not possible to scatter seeds.
A few hours later, at an underwater site called Dickie’s Reef, Simpson uses fishing line to tie clusters of staghorn coral to rocky outcroppings – a temporary binding until the coral’s limestone skeleton grows and fixes itself to the rock.
The goal is to jumpstart the natural growth of a coral reef. And so far, it’s working.
Coral reefs are often called ‘‘rainforests of the sea’’ for the astonishing diversity of life they shelter.
Just 2 per cent of the ocean floor is filled with coral, but the
When you give nature a chance, she can repair herself. It’s not too late.
Stuart Sandin, marine biologist
branching structures sustain a quarter of all marine species.
Clown fish, parrotfish, grouper and snapper lay eggs and hide from predators in the reef’s nooks and crannies, and their presence draws eels, sea snakes, octopuses, and even sharks.
In healthy reefs, jellyfish and sea turtles are regular visitors.
With fish and coral, it’s a codependent relationship – the fish rely on the reef to evade danger and lay eggs, and they also eat the coral’s rivals.
After a series of natural and manmade disasters in the 1980s and 1990s, Jamaica lost 85 per cent of its once-bountiful reefs.
Meanwhile, fish catches declined to a sixth of what they had been in the 1950s, pushing families depending on seafood closer to poverty.
Many scientists thought most of Jamaica’s coral reef had been permanently replaced by seaweed, like jungle overtaking a ruined cathedral.
But today, the corals and tropical fish are slowly reappearing, thanks in part to a series of careful interventions.
‘‘When you give nature a chance, she can repair herself,’’ says Stuart Sandin, a marine biologist at the Scripps Institution of Oceanography. ‘‘It’s not too late.’’
In the past 10 years, more than a dozen grassroots-run coral nurseries and fish sanctuaries have sprung up.
At the White River Fish Sanctuary, which is only about 2 years old and where Simpson works, the clearest proof of early success is the return of tropical fish that inhabit the reefs – as well as pelicans skimming the water to feed on them.
The solution was to create a protected area for immature fish to reach reproductive age before they are caught.
Most of the more established fishermen, who own boats and set out lines and wire cages, have come to accept the no-fishing zone. But some younger men still hunt with lightweight spearguns.
Once it became clear that a no-fishing zone actually helped nearby fish populations rebound, however, it became easier to build support.
Oracabessa was the first of the grassroots-led efforts to revive Jamaica’s coral reefs.
After word got out, other regions wanted advice.
‘‘The fishermen are mostly on board and happy – that’s the distinction. That’s why it’s working,’’ sanctuary manager Inilek Wilmot says.