a huge problem

People in Australia don't know who the Grateful Dead are.

Story Four: Crash

Sam was in a hurry. He had recently begun to realize that more than half of his life was over, and lately, he was always in a rush to get things done. He was frustrated with himself because he had overslept again this morning. Day after day, it was becoming harder for him to get out of bed. His joints always ached and he never felt as if he had slept enough. The salty smell of the ocean air was all it took to wake him up and get him moving, but it was difficult to make it down to the docks before sunrise as he used to.

It was late in November, and Sam had spent the day out on the water, trawling for prawns. By the time his crew had pulled in the third net of the day, the sun was already beginning to sink in the sky. Sam was watching the sun’s reflection on the water. His hair was mostly gray, but strands of copper still shone in the afternoon sunlight. His face was weathered, almost permanently red from being out in the sun and wind continually. These days, his face was usually contorted into a scowl or frown, adding to the wrinkles that had formed over the years. With his hands on his hips, his feet steady on the rocking Humble Pine, he gazed out over the water.

“Captain?” Al asked. “Are we going to set out the last net?” Al was the newest member of the trawling crew, and he was always hoping to catch as many prawns as possible in a day. He was ambitious and a good worker, but often found it difficult to work with Sam. He had been waiting at the dock for an hour this morning before Sam ambled down.

Sam broke out of his daze. “Yeah. Let’s get over to another bay.” Sam started the motor on the small trawler and began to increase speed as the boat bumped over the waves. It was the end of the tiger prawn trawling season, just as it was the end of the day, and Sam, like Al, wanted the largest catch possible.

The tide had gone out while Sam was slowly moving about his day, and the Humble Pine was now closer to the shore than he had realized. He increased the speed of the boat once more. He had no idea that he was taking his boat across the waters off the shore of a green sea turtle nesting site. He didn’t notice their heads poking out of the water as they took their breath and looked towards the beach; he was focused only on the setting sun on the horizon.

The boat jumped and the motor sputtered as the propeller smacked into something.
“Shit,” Al said, looking over the back of the boat. The water was churning in the wake of the boat, but Al could see a large green sea turtle gasp for air and go under, her shell broken by the collision. “It was a turtle. Should we go back and see if it’s okay?”

Sam wasn’t concerned. He stared straight ahead and never looked behind him or slowed the boat down. He didn’t answer Al.

“You know those blokes are endangered, right?” Al asked, hoping Sam would turn around.

“No way they’re endangered,” Sam said. “There are hundreds of them out here every day.” Sam had caught hundreds of turtles in his trawling nets over the years, mostly flatbacks and olive ridleys, but often loggerheads or green turtles. Some survived, others drowned. He let them go when he could. He wasn’t hurt when he couldn’t. What was one dead turtle when there were so many more in the ocean? The ocean was limitless. Sam suspected that the turtle populations were limitless as well.

Al shrugged. The turtle was completely out of sight by now, and the Humble Pine was fast on its way to the next trawling ground. Sam stared straight ahead. The day was almost over, and he had more fishing to do before the sun went down.

Story Three: The Aquarium

For her fifth birthday, Emily’s parents took her to the Coral Ocean Aquarium. The outside of the building was bright blue, like the ocean, and murals of corals, reef fish, sting rays, dolphins, sharks, sea turtles, and octopi were painted on each wall. Emily’s favorite painting was of the butterflyfish. She loved the way its yellow scales stood out so brightly against the blue water.

Inside the aquarium, Emily’s mother paid their admission while the receptionist put a stamp on Emily’s hand. The stamp was of a sea turtle, and Emily pretended that the turtle was swimming up her arm.

The first tank that the family went to held several leopard sharks. Emily wasn’t scared of the sharks; they were young, so they were small. Her pet cat at home was more frightening than these animals. But Emily wondered where all of the reef fish were. She hoped the sharks hadn’t eaten them. At the bottom of the tank, a large red starfish clung to the sandy bottom. The sharks swam over it without noticing it. Emily wondered why they weren’t as excited to see the starfish as she was. She tugged on her father’s hand, pointing her tiny finger against the glass of the tank: “Look!” she told him. Her father didn’t know what she was pointing at, so he just smiled, took Emily’s hand, and walked to the next tank.

This tank held the corals and fishes that Emily had been looking for. She stood, wide-eyed, hands and face pressed against the tank. Her mouth was slightly open, and the wonder in her expression was reflected in the glass. She watched the anemone fish swim in and out of their anemone homes, trying to hide, but she thought their orange bodies were much too bright to ever be completely hidden. The butterflyfish swam regally past all the other fish. Emily thought they were the most beautiful of all, and she wondered if the other fish were jealous.

Emily and her family stopped to look at many tanks. They saw many more reef fishes, freshwater turtles, frogs, sea cucumbers, catfish, sea snakes, an octopus, sting rays, and much larger sharks.

The tank with the large sharks held adult leopard sharks, shovel-nosed rays, freshwater sawfish, and a tawny nurse shark. Emily still wasn’t scared of these sharks, though they were much larger, but she was happy that they were on one side of the glass and she was on the other. She and her parents watched the sharks being fed. The tawny nurse shark, who was sleeping on the sand when they arrived, was suddenly awake and active, finding food to eat. Emily heard the aquarium guide talking about the predators and their behavior, but she wasn’t listening, because she had noticed something much more exciting.

There, at the surface of the water, was a green sea turtle. The turtle must have been very hungry, because he was eating everything he saw. He even grabbed a squid right out from under a shark’s nose! Emily watched his feeding frenzy. The turtle could swim very quickly with is strong, fin-shaped flippers, and he probably ate more than his fair share of the food being thrown into the tank. This turtle was much larger than the freshwater turtles Emily had seen in a smaller tank earlier, and he was a much better swimmer. His shell was a beautiful mottled-brown and gold. Emily compared the stamp on her hand to the turtle swimming above, and she was happy that she had a chance to watch the sea turtle.

The aquarium guide pointed at the sea turtle and began to speak about it. Emily listened to the guide, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the turtle.

“This green sea turtle is four years old. He’s much larger than many turtles his age, because he is fed so well here,” the guide said. “He was found at Palm Island and brought to us just about a year ago. Right now, he will eat almost anything—he’ll even try to eat the hair of the scuba divers when they go in the tank!—but as he gets older, he’ll become a vegetarian and start to eat what’s good for him: mainly sea grasses and algae.”

Emily continued to watch the turtle swimming at the surface, eating whatever he could find. Many damselfish crowded around him to eat the debris that was shed from the food as he bit into it.

When the aquarium guide was finished speaking, Emily dragged her parents to her by the hands.

“What is the turtle’s name?” she asked, quietly but determinedly, pointing to the sea turtle and looking expectantly at the guide.

The aquarium guide smiled down at Emily. “His name is Wayamba,” she told her. “It’s an Aboriginal word for ‘turtle.’”

“Wayamba,” Emily repeated, satisfied.

When Emily and her parents left the aquarium, Emily waved goodbye to Wayamba. She thought she saw him wave his flipper back at her, and she hoped to see him again.

Emily’s parents bought her an ice cream on the way to the car. She ate it greedily, almost as quickly as the sea turtle gobbled up the food thrown to him. “What was your favorite animal to see?” her mother asked, wiping the chocolate from Emily’s face with a napkin.

“Wayamba, the sea turtle,” Emily said decisively, looking down at the stamp on her hand and smiling.

Story Two: Long Ago, in the Dreamtime

Tears slid down the dark skin of Charlie’s face. The day of the funeral had come, and family and friends had gathered to commemorate the life of Charlie’s late wife, whose name they would not speak. She had lived her life well, passing on her culture to her children and grandchildren and keeping close to the land where her ancestors had lived for generations. Her people had seen the sea levels rise and fall along the coast of Australia, but despite the changes in environment, they had always maintained a respect and understanding of the land they inhabited.

Charlie had learned from her. He himself had lost some of his culture when his father was sent to the reserve on Palm Island. He regained cultural knowledge through his wife, and he did his best to raise his children so that they would be proud of their heritage and continue to pass it on.

His wife had died, but Charlie still had other family members to love. He sat, thinking about the years that had passed, though he had never been concerned with the time that flew by him. He watched two of his grandsons running around, laughing and shouting, unaware of the sadness in his heart.

People were milling about, talking in low voices, and filling their plates with the food that was spread across the table. Charlie’s nephews had gone hunting the day before and captured a dugong and two green sea turtles for the occasion. The feast was their gift to Charlie, and he appreciated their efforts. The turtles had been baked over hot coals in the ground, and they were served with fried pumpkin and bean sprouts.

As Charlie watched his two young grandsons heaping food on their plates, he thought about the Dreamtime story his wife had shared with him about the sea turtle, Charlie’s own totem.

In the Dreamtime, Budgial, the sea turtle, represented wisdom and love. He loved Gugu, the fish, and he spent his time with her. He brought her food to eat and watched the sun go down with her, sharing pleasant conversation, and holding her when the night arrived and she became cold.

One day, many of the other animals were making fun of Gugu because she lived in the water and could not come onto the land. She asked Budgial to defend her, but when Budgial went to do so, he became friends with the others, and Gugu was upset. She cried and cried in the water that night, and Gunual, the goanna, asked her what was wrong. She explained to Gunual why she was upset with Budgial, so Gunual went to the others and beat them for making fun of Gugu.

Gunual represented strength, power, and greed. He told Gugu about his strength and power, and he explained what he had done to the others. She was glad that Gunual had defended her, so Gugu spent the night with him. Gunual brought her more food than she needed to show her what a wonderful hunter he was, but he would not love her the way Budgial had.

Gugu began to miss Budgial, and Gunual knew. As Gunual began to prepare a spear, Gugu swam away to find Budgial. She told him that Gunual was going to come kill him, but Budgial was brave. He held Gugu and told her everything would be alright.

When Gunual arrived at the scene and saw Budgial holding Gugu, he became furious. He was prepared to kill Budgial for taking Gugu away from him, but Budgial held up two shields, one against his front and one against his back, and jumped into the water. The shields protected Budgial, no matter how many spears Gunual threw at him.

Gunual couldn’t believe that he didn’t have the power to kill Budgial. He ran away from the water to live in the desert, where he remains. Gugu and Budgial maintained their love for each other, and they still live in the water together.
At a young age, Charlie was given the totem of Budgial, the sea turtle, because he had so much common sense and love for his friends and family. He would not eat the sea turtle at the funeral today, because no person can kill or eat his or her totem animal.

Charlie’s two grandsons were sitting on the floor at his feet, eating their meal of sea turtle meat and vegetables. His grandsons were half-caste; their mother, Charlie’s daughter, was Aboriginal, but their father was white. The two boys had light brown skin and soft, curly hair, and their eyes were wide as they looked down at the food on their plates. Their bellies were full, and they didn’t know how they would finish all of the food they had taken.

Charlie watched them contemplating their food, their hands on their bellies. “Did I ever tell you two the story of the Rainbow Serpent?” Charlie asked.

The two boys looked up and shook their heads. Charlie smiled, knowing that sharing a piece of his culture with his grandsons would make him feel better on this sad day. It is what his wife would have done.

“Long ago, in the Dreamtime, there were two young men who were heading down to the river to go fishing for that evening’s meal,” Charlie began. The two boys put their forks down and pushed their plates forward, looking up at their grandfather in interest.

“On their way to the river, the young men stopped to speak to an old man who was sitting beneath a tree. They noticed that the old man looked very weak. ‘We are going fishing,’ one of the young men said. ‘Would you like any fish for your dinner?’

“‘Yes, please,’ the old man said. ‘If you catch five fish for me, I can feed my whole family.’ The two young men agreed to help the old man and his family, and they continued on their walk to the river.

“When they got to the water, the men threw the bark of the Milky Pine into the river. This bark takes all of the oxygen out of the water, and eventually the fish will come to the surface of the water, searching for more oxygen to breathe. The barramundi, the black fin, and all of the other fish were soon floating at the top of the water.

“The two young men were very excited at the number of fish floating in the river, and they began to collect them in their dilly bags. But the Rainbow Serpent, who guarded the water hole, saw this happening and became very angry. The Rainbow Serpent protects the food chain and certifies that it is balanced. He makes sure that nobody takes more than they need and that nobody goes hungry. When he saw the two young men taking many more fish than they needed to feed themselves, he swam through tunnels beneath the ground and waited below the water.

“As the two young men continued to fill their dilly bags with the dead fish, the Rainbow Serpent sprang up from beneath the water and swallowed them whole. With his protruding belly, the Rainbow Serpent swam back down to the underground tunnels.

“The old man, still sitting beneath the tree, heard a large splash, and ran down to the river. He saw all the dead fish lying about and the dilly bags of the young men lying on the shore. The two young men were nowhere to be seen. The old man knew what had happened. He began to dance and shout, stomping holes in the ground. Eventually, the old man fell into the underground tunnel, where he found the Rainbow Serpent. He stabbed the large serpent in the tail, and the Rainbow Serpent screamed and spat the two young men out.

“The old man cleaned off the two young men and brought them back to the river banks. The young men were embarrassed for taking so much and for needing the old man to come and save them. They learned their lesson, to never take more than they needed.”

Charlie finished the Dreamtime story and watched his grandsons. They looked guiltily at the full plates that they could not finish.

“Sea turtle is a very special food,” Charlie explained. “We only eat it at special occasions. It is not to be wasted.”

The two grandsons nodded. They understood. Charlie looked into their blue eyes and was happy that he had the opportunity to share his knowledge of his culture with them. He hoped that the two boys would retain their culture in their changing world.

Story One: Chelonia mydas

It is late November, and the rising full moon can be seen in the day-lit sky. A newly matured green sea turtle is swimming through the shallow ocean waters off the coast of the beach where she was born. She has not returned to this site since she and her siblings dug their way up through the warm sand of the nest their mother dug for them. The last time she touched land, the hatchling and her siblings had scurried upwards out of the nest, towards the surface, breathing between the sand grains. They reached the surface of the nest with a burst of energy, as a coordinated group, but they dispersed as they clambered toward the surf. It was the last time she saw many of her siblings, as stragglers were taken by beach-dwelling crabs, popping up from their holes to capture the struggling hatchlings by the moonlight. Others were captured by shore-birds, night herons hiding still in the night, long legs poised to run toward their prey at the opportune moment.

Most of the hatchlings made it into the ocean. As soon as they reached the salty water, they swam, frenzied, past the breakers. They put every ounce of their energy into swimming that first night. Fish, small sharks, and cuttlefish took some of the hatchlings for their own meals, but the rest kept swimming. Separated, they swam for days. The residual yolk in their bodies supplied enough energy for them to continue swimming without feeding for several days, and they used this energy until they reached the currents that carried them to the deep, open ocean.

The green turtle hatchling drifted with the ocean currents, eating plankton near the surface of the water, and slowly growing. Her carapace grew from five centimeters to forty centimeters during her life in the open ocean, and when she was large enough to return to shallower waters without risking predation, she swam toward the sea-grass pastures. Here, she continued feeding for many years. As a youth, she was not selective in her diet, feeding on sponges, jellyfish, macroalgae, and even cigarette butts washed out to sea, floating on the surface of the water. But as she grew and matured, she recognized the strength and energy that feeding on the sea-grass beds provided her. With her serrated beak, she could easily seize and break off pieces of sea-grass. She thrived in large sea-grass meadows, where green sea-grass, brown at the tips, covered the shallow banks and sand-bottom channels of the coastal waters. She continued to supplement her diet with small amounts of macroalgae, and her herbivorous meals created the green body fat she is named for.

Now, she is nearly forty years old. After feeding and growing for so many years, she is ready to breed. She migrated hundreds of kilometers from her feeding grounds to the area of the nesting beach where she was born. There, she mated with several male turtles who had also migrated to the breeding grounds. The males, with claws at the tips of their flippers, held on to the female’s carapace as they mated.

Though it is several weeks after her first mating, she still carries the claw marks of the males on her shell. She made her first journey to the beach nearly two weeks ago. After dark, she swam to shore and lumbered up the gradient of the beach. She used her front flippers to drag her body over the sand. With her fore and rear flippers, she excavated her first nest area, and with her rear flippers, she dug her first egg chamber, alternately scooping the sand. When it was deep enough, she laid over one hundred small, round eggs, leathery and white against the tawny sand. She used her rear flippers again to fill and cover the egg chamber. As she laid her eggs, glands near her eyes formed tears, excreting the excess salt from the seawater she drank. Though these tears are constantly sliding down her face, they are most noticeable now that she has left the ocean for the land. She blinked, letting the tears go, turned, and followed the moonlight back to the dark sea.

If the turtle has concealed her nest sufficiently, it will protect the eggs from feral pigs and dogs that come to the beach for a late night snack. After eight weeks, the turtles inside the eggs will begin to pip, breaking their eggshells by rubbing an egg tooth on the tip of their noses against the shells. Each hatchling will pip within a few hours of each another, and they will stay within their broken eggshells for several days as their soft bodies uncurl. Once they have straightened, they will emerge from their nest, the same way their mother did so many years ago. They will race to the ocean, the darkness of their shells protecting their bodies in the dangerous night. Once in the water, their white undersides will protect them from predators below, looking toward the sky for the silhouettes of prey.

Now, the green sea turtle swims through the sea water, parallel to her nesting beach. After the sun goes down, when the moon is bright in the dark sky, she will make her way to the silent beach. She will trudge to the perfect nesting spot and dig an egg chamber, and she will quietly lay her second clutch of eggs. She will have nothing to do with her eggs once they have been laid; she will never see her offspring emerge from the nest or make their way to the ocean. Not all of them will survive. Most will make it safely to the sea, and some of the lucky ones will survive attacks by sharks and other marine predators. The ones that survive and make it to the open ocean will carefully grow over many years, feeding on algae and sea grasses like their mother did. Some will make it to breeding age, joining in the ancient cycle of reproduction, populating the oceans with these prehistoric reptiles that have survived for over one hundred million years.

The turtle glides through the water. Her rear flippers are broad rudders; her toe bones are long, and flexible enough to steer her through the ocean. With her front flippers, she paddles swiftly, moving them upward and backward, then forward and downward, flying through the ocean like a bird on wings. She makes her way to the surface every few minutes, exhaling her breath in a noisy rush above the water and breathing in the salty air, absorbing enough oxygen for her next dive below the water.

With her domed, light shell, stream-lined to maximize buoyancy and agility in the water, she is made for the sea. Her shell is olive green and brown, with darkly mottled splotches, and her eyes are wide, pensive and still. She dives deep in the water, feeding along the bottom, and slowly slopes to the surface. Her ascent is passive and graceful. She is completely unaware of the low-frequency sound of a boat motor approaching.

Her head breaks the surface as the water around her churns and the whirring smack of the propeller slices through her front flipper and crashes into her shell. She gasps the air for broken breath, but is too shocked by impact to see the foreign object speeding away in the sunny afternoon. The stillness of the water has disappeared, and in its place, the sea turtle bobs along the surface of the water. She floats, her flipper hanging limply at her side, not completely separated, but useless. The shock and pain of the accident has blinded the turtle of her earlier purpose, and she can do nothing but move slowly through the water, using the strength of only one flipper to paddle to a comfortable place.

Townsville

Townsville is a small town. We’ve only been here for about two weeks and we probably know everybody. Examples: On our way to Townsville, we met Sam on the bus. We ran into him several times without planning to meet up. Once, Sam and I were walking to the beach. On the way, he introduced me to his friend Jake, and we kept walking. On our way back, we found Jake and Geneveve hanging out together. Another time I met a man named Will, who dives regularly. I wanted to interview him for my sea turtle project, so we exchanged numbers. The next day, Geneveve saw him, and he said he was looking forward to the interview. His phone was off for the next three days, so I couldn’t get in touch with him. But then, Geneveve and I were having dinner with Russell (from our camping trip), and Will walks by with his family. Will and I started talking to each other, but Will’s parents started chatting with Russ, because Will’s father gulfs with Russ. Last story: Geneveve and I went to the aquarium. We were talking to the director, Fred, but he had to go because he had to meet with another man. I met this same man, Anthony, at a bar about a week later. But it wasn’t until our third meeting, when we randomly crossed paths on the street, that we realized we had seen each other before, at the aquarium. It’s a small town.

Geneveve and I left Cairns for Townsville on April 5th, the first day of ISP. We took a Greyhound bus. It was a six hour bus ride, but we were entertained with books to read and a movie to watch – “Angus, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging.” (Who remembers that book!? (The book actually refers to “Full-frontal” snogging.)) We met Sam on the bus, and he helped Geneveve and I carry our obscene amount of luggage, get a taxi, and find our hostel. After settling into the Globetrotters Hostel (where we stayed for two nights before moving to the Reef Lodge), we met up with Sam for a drink. We soon found out that the main part of Townsville is just one street. Flinders Street has several bars, the “mall” (which includes free wi-fi at McDonald’s), and, well, that’s about it. Parallel to Flinders Street is the Strand. There’s a great view of the ocean, looking out toward Magnetic Island, and there is a beach with two stinger nets to swim in. There’s also an Olympic-size pool for me to swim in; a pier, with a kiosk that has great “chips” (French fries); another pool, sort of like the lagoon at Cairns; a walking track; and some nice shady, grassy spots to sit down and read a book.

I came to Townsville to work on my Independent Study Project. I am doing a research project on green sea turtles. My project involves academic research of the species and interviews with people who have had interactions with turtles: researchers, students, divers, snorkelers, indigenous hunters, tourists, volunteers, aquarium staff, and fishermen. As I collect data from these interviews, I am composing several short stories (which I will probably post in my blog). The stories are going to examine the factors affecting sea turtle endangerment, human interactions and perceptions of sea turtles, and conservation goals. In addition to my short stories, I need to also write a short paper that is more science based. This paper will explore how stories can be used as an educational tool for the non-scientific community; it will also go through my methods of interviewing people, my results, and what it all means. I’m enjoying working on the project. It got off to a slow start, but now that there are only two weeks left in ISP, it is picking up!

When I am not working on my turtle research, I spend a lot of time at the Strand or swimming. It is nice to finally have time to exercise again. I even bought a pair of sneakers to run, which may have been a terrible idea. (I went for my first run last night, and I am definitely feeling it today.)

Geneveve and I have done some more exploring in Townsville when were not doing our research. We’ve hiked up Castle Hill, a great hike up a red-rock mountain right in the center of town. We also went to Magnetic Island for a weekend. We didn’t see any koalas on the island, as we had hoped (there are about 200 living there,) but we did have a great time going to the beach, hiking, and snorkeling. We stayed at a campground with a free tent I obtained in Cairns. We were a three minute walk to the beach at Horseshoe Bay, and we also hiked about an hour to Florence Bay, where we snorkeled. The snorkeling was a little bit disappointing and heart-breaking after snorkeling at Lizard Island. The corals there are almost completely bleached and covered in algae. It was really sad to see, but also eye-opening. If I could, I would show every person in the world the Great Barrier Reef. It makes the threats of climate change SO much more apparent. I wish there were a way to make everybody understand, even though not everyone will be as lucky as I am and have the chance to see this place. Despite the bleaching on this reef, we did see several reef fish, and an eel. We spent two nights on “Maggie” and headed back early Monday morning on the ferry to get back to our research.

The next two weeks should be pretty quiet as I finish up my project. I should head back to Cairns around May 3rd to finish writing my paper. Our papers and presentations are due May 9th, and our program ends May 14th. At that point, I will be traveling down the coast with Eva, Steve, Kelly, and Lauren. Then, I’ll be home! I started to get a little bit homesick the past few days, but I know the rest of my time here will speed by, so I will have to be sure to enjoy every second, despite all the paper-writing that needs to be done.

Stay tuned for turtle tales!

Lizard, Part Two.

The much-awaited-next-blog-entry! Sorry I haven’t been keeping up, but since I’d given you a taste of Lizard Island, I decided to postpone the blog entries until I got a few things organized! Right now I’m in Townsville, Australia, getting to work on my Independent Study Project on sea turtles.

But first, the rest of Lizard. The end of the trip was much the same as what I described in the previous blog entry. We got up every morning to snorkel. After Darren accidentally ran over a buoy with the large boat and broke the propeller, we had to take three smaller boats out to the various reefs. Every morning, we visited Watson’s Bay, where we collected data for our marine field project. We had to choose two fish species of the same family and observe their abundance among several transects along the reef for the first several days; then we did focal observations on those fish. We were to observe how similar fish species share resources or compete for them within reef ecosystems. Megan (my snorkel buddy) and I observed two species of rabbitfish: Foxface rabbitfish (Siganus vulpinus) and Blue spinefoot (Siganus puellus). The foxface rabbitfish are almost always found in pairs because they mate for life. We collected data on underwater paper, and we wore our stinger suits every day, of course. After our morning snorkel, (and after drying off by lying in the sun on the bottom of the boats), we would go back to the research station for morning tea (bikkies with Nutella and lots of cordial), and then Darren would give us our morning lecture. Darren is currently doing his Ph.D. on how coral bleaching affects reef fish communities.

After morning lecture, we’d have lunch. This was the first time we almost always had left-overs for lunch, which was really a relief, because every day on the rainforest and camping trips we had the same sandwiches. These sandwiches were still an option, of course, but it was very refreshing to have something new to eat. (By new, of course, I mean old, because they were left-overs.) After lunch, we had about two hours to lie in the sun on the beach. It was the most relaxing part of the day, except for the sand flies. We’d meet back on the beach again each afternoon for our second snorkel of the day. These snorkels were more relaxing, because we didn’t need to do any data collection. We were able to explore much more, because we weren’t focused on a single species. We went to reefs along the lagoon, Horseshoe Reef, Clam Gardens, and Mermaid Lagoon. At some places, like Clam Gardens, we could swim to the beach when we finished our snorkel and relax there before we headed back to the station.

We had the rest of the day free to do research on our fish species, work in our Natural History Field Notebooks, and of course, to watch the sunset. I watched them religiously. It was just like at New College, when I would walk down to the bay every evening and spend an hour or more watching the sun go down and the sky change colors. Some of the nights we had barbecues on the beach beneath the stars. We went swimming in the ocean a few times without stinger suits; the water was the perfect temperature.

We saw many more sharks after our first encounter: most were black-tip reef sharks, but we also saw white-tip reef sharks and a tawny nurse shark, which was at least twice the size of me and swam directly beneath us. I saw four green sea turtles. The last one that I saw was just eating some sea grass near the shore. She just sat there eating and didn’t seem to be scared of me at all, even when I touched her shell. Angie and I ended up spending at least twenty minutes with her. We pet her head and held her flippers, and she even ate some sea grass out of my hand! It was the coolest experience ever. We also saw several sting rays, two octopuses (octopi?), an eel, and of course hundreds of different reef fish and corals. There were giant clams that I would have fit inside. We would touch their lips and try to get them to shut, and when they did, they would expel a ton of debris which then would attract many fish to the spot to eat it. If you were swimming above one of the clams when it shut, you could feel a rush of air coming up as it closed. One of the spookiest things we saw were the skeletons of giant clams: just their enormous shells, vacant and covered with algae and corals.

On our last day at Lizard Island, we climbed to the top of Cook’s Look. It’s where James Cook climbed to try to find a way to get his ship past the reef. The top was also an Aboriginal ceremony site for male initiations. It was a great hike, and the view was spectacular. It was nice to be able to hike without worrying about leeches! There wasn’t too much wildlife on the actual island except for a few birds and the goannas. On our last day, we were cleaning out the kitchen and emptying food into the compost bin. We opened the bin to find out that a goanna had tunneled its way into the bottom of the bin! A few goannas kept stealing bananas and avacados, but they would just carry them out, realize they didn’t actually want to eat such things, and leave them lying in the bushes.

It was hard to leave Lizard, because the chances that we’d ever be back are very, very slim. It’s also sad to leave the Great Barrier Reef – because if I ever have the chance to come back down here, it’s quite possible that the reef won’t be there anymore. It’s predicted to be destroyed by 2050 due to climate change.

We were able to take a larger plane back to Cairns instead of three tiny planes. On the way back, we flew over the reef that Steve Irwin died on.

Back in Cairns, we had a day to write up our marine field papers. The rest of the week was spent doing work: our final essay, our ISP proposals, our exams, and our field notebooks. It was an exhausting week of work, and we also had to make our plans for ISP. It was strange to say goodbye to everyone in the group—we’d been together every day for two months, so it was a bit disconcerting to recognize the fact that we’d be apart for the rest of the semester until we meet back in Cairns at the end of ISP.

I’m actually not alone on ISP: Geneveve and I are both in Townsville, about four hours south of Cairns. I am studying sea turtles and Geneveve is studying sharks. It’s nice to be with someone else. Geneveve is also a vegetarian, so it makes cooking dinner fun and easy. We are staying at a backpacker’s hostel right in town. I will write more about Townsville and ISP soon!