International Wildlife
D. Hinrichsen, 1997, Battle at Sea, Requiem for Reefs? International Wildlife,
National Wildlife Federation, v. 27, No. 2, March/April, 1997, p. 12-21.
More images available in original article see reference above.


ON TINY APO ISLAND, off the southern coast of Negros in the Philippines, a sudden squall chops the sea into angry whitecaps. Jesus Delmo's small dugout canoe rocks furiously back and forth. Without an outrigger for balance, the narrow craft could capsize.

Luckily, Delmo's business out here is finished-he has hauled in a full-grown jack, one of Southeast Asia's tastiest reef fish. It flops in the bottom of the canoe: dinner.

Though his army fatigues are soaked through, Delmo is all smiles as be fires up the outboard. "Hang on," he yells, "this is going to be rough."

As the boat churns back toward shore, the waves push relentlessly. Nearing Apo, Delmo realizes that he cannot possibly land on the windward side, where wave tumbles upon wave. He runs for the leeward side and finally beaches the outrigger.

By now the squall has turned into a full force gale, bending the palms that fringe the island. But in an hour, the gale has passed, and the Mindanao Sea is again smooth as glass. Delmo is cleaning the jack.

A decade ago there were so few fish in Apo's waters that the mere idea of such a catch would have been wishful thinking. In an effort to pull a living from the sea, Apo's 100 fishing families had dynamited, pulverized and overfished the 106-hectare (262-acre) coral reef that surrounds the island and sustains local fish populations.

In 1984, Apo residents faced starvation and the grim prospect of abandoning their homes and moving to the main island of Negros. But then help came in the form of two social workers and a team of marine biologists from nearby Silliman University, in Dumaguete. The social workers' message was unequivocal: In order to rebuild their resources and their lives, the people of Apo needed to manage the reef more sustain-ably. Protecting a small portion of it from all forms of fishing would help restore balance to the rest, allowing fish stocks to recover.

"At first, we thought they were crazy, recalls Delmo, who is now president of the Apo Island Marine Management Committee. "We had no idea how reefs function. But at that point we had nothing to lose. We were already traveling 30 kilometers [18 mi.] across the sea, at great personal risk, to fish off the coast of Mindanao."

In 1986, Apo Islanders voted overwhelmingly to set aside 8 percent of their entire reef as a reserve where no human activity, except scuba diving and snorkeling, would be permitted. "It was the best decision we ever made," beams Delmo. "Within two years, stocks of edible fish and shellfish had recovered to such an extent that we could catch all the fish we needed around our own island again."

Apo's dramatic recovery is the kind that catches the attention of reef experts who have been witnessing a tragic decline in the world's coral resources. From the South Pacific to South Florida, from Australia to the Ryukyu Archipelago of Japan, coral reefs-which provide food for millions of people throughout the world-are in big trouble, with 10 percent already degraded beyond recognition and 30 percent in critical condition. If present trends continue, 70 percent of coral reefs may disappear within 40 years, says Clive Wilkinson, a coral-reef expert working at the Australian Institute of Marine Science in Townsville.


PALAU'S ROCK ISLANDS (above) are old coral reefs that have lifted above the sea. Corals still fringe the islands.

But Apo demonstrates that it is not too late to protect these wonderfully diverse underwater ecosystems and to preserve their productivity for the people who depend upon them. The model that Apo sets offers encouragement to the coral-reef nations that recently launched a new international protection plan, culminating in the designation of 1997 as the International Year of the Reef.

Coral reefs are biological wonders, among the largest and oldest living communities of plants and animals on Earth. They evolved 200 million to 400 million years ago and now total roughly 600,000 square kilometers (231,660 sq. mi.) scattered throughout the world's tropical and subtropical seas. Most established coral reefs are between 5,000 and 10,000 years old, many of them forming thin veneers over older, much thicker reef structures.


A PINK ANENMONEFlSH leaves its eggs at the base of an anemone growing on Australia's Great Barrier Reef. The stinging anemone protects the eggs. This reef extends for 1,200 miles and is protected from overfishing, boat damage and heavy diving. About 70 percent of the world's 600,000 square kilometers (231,660 sq. mi.) of coral reefs may disappear within the next 40 years if today's trends of destruction are not reversed.
Coral reefs are built by animals called polyps. Relatives of jellyfish and anemones, polyps consist of a columnar body topped by stinging tentacles that fringe a central mouth. Each polyp, which may be as small as a tiny seed or as large as a lily pad, secretes a hard calcium substance that forms a cup in which the polyp lives. Within polyp tissues live colonies of algae that process polyp wastes before they are excreted, helping the polyp to retain valuable nutrients.

Most corals are colonial, creating masses of cups fused together. The bulk of any reef colony is composed of the abandoned calcium cups built by previous colonies. Only the upper layer is covered by living corals, which form a thin, ever-changing skin over their dead predecessors.

Coral colonies vary enormously in size, shape and color from the delicate filigree of the sea fans to the branching "antlers" of the staghorn coral to the bulging brain coral, which looks like a huge, disembodied human brain. There are button corals, fire corals, lace corals, bead corals, organ-pipe corals and vase corals, all of which resemble their namesakes-more than 600 species in all.

Reef-building corals generally prefer warm tropical and subtropical waters and produce three types of reef: near-shore fringing reefs; barrier reefs, which are separated from shore by lagoons; and circular or U-shaped atolls, which surround a lagoon. Annual growth can be as little as 1 millimeter (0.04 in.) or as much as 20 centimeters (8 in.).

Coral reefs are complex, tightly bonded ecosystems. Removal or disturbance of one key component of a reef can trigger a nasty chain reaction. When fishermen took too many parrot fish and sea urchins from reefs around the South Pacific's Cook Islands in the mid-1980s, algal growth soon smothered the coral, killing the polyps. Why? Parrot fish and urchins help to keep the reefs clean by grazing extensively on excess algae.

No other marine creature or ecosystem rivals the productive capacities of coral reefs. Southeast Asian reefs alone can support an estimated 5 to 15 times the number of fish found in the North Atlantic. Reefs surrounding the South Pacific island of Palau nurture nine species of seagrass, more than 300 species of coral and 2,000 varieties of fish. Coral reefs are the main source of animal protein for more than 1 billion poor people in Asia.

The secret to this species diversity lies in complex multi-story architecture. Reefs are like cramped apartment complexes in which each one-room apartment is occupied by two people. Animals that forage during the day share the holes and crevices in which they live with other creatures that forage by night. For example, a day-feeding fish may share a hole with a nocturnal octopus. In this way, reefs shelter two separate complexes of organisms, forming a sort of dual ecosystem.

In recent years, coastlines have been filling up with people. In parts of tropical Asia and the Caribbean, population densities already exceed 500 people per square kilometer (more than 1,300 per sq. mi.). Such growth in human numbers intensifies threats to reefs. Some reefs are excavated by industrial workers for use in cement production and as road fill. Others are killed off by pollutants pumped into coastal waters by irresponsible industries and choked by untreated sewage flushed into coastal waters by municipalities and tourist resorts.

Of particular concern is overfishing, brought on by heightened competition as coastal populations soar. Though coral reefs are a critical marine resource, accounting for 70 to 90 percent of all commercial fish landed by fishermen in tropical Asia, they are falling prey to rapacious trawlermen and industrial fishing fleets bent on taking as much as they can. As a result, subsistence fishermen often feel forced into adopting destructive quick fixes, such as using dynamite and poisons to stun fish. According to Daniel Pauly, a fisheries biologist working with the International Center for Living Aquatic Resources Management in Manila, "these fishing techniques are now the most common forms used in Southeast Asia, South Asia and East Mrica."

The fate of the 33,700 square kilometers (13,000 sq. mi.) of reefs in Philippine seas shows how intense the destruction can be: 90 percent of the reefs are dead or deterio-rating in the wake of human abuse. "In 1992, I surveyed over 100 prime diving sites in the country-areas known for luxuriant coral cover and abundant fish-and every one of them had been blasted to smithereens," says an expatriate British diving instructor with a decade of experience in Southeast Asia.

Philippine marine biologist Helen Yap also has documented the almost wholesale annihilation of her country's coral reefs since the early 1980s. During a 1992 dive in the Lingayen Gulf, on the northwest coast of Luzon, Yap experienced blast fishing first hand. "There were so many blasts from dynamite fishermen that I couldn't even count them during one dive," recalls Yap, who works for the Marine Science Institute at the University of the Philippines in Manila. The explosions grew so excessive that Yap and her colleagues stopped diving for fear of being blown out of the water.

In addition to dynamite, Philippine divers use heavy applications of cyanide-about 150,000 kilograms (330,000 lb.) yearly-to collect fish. The cyanide stuns the fish, sometimes even killing them outright. Worse, since the coral polyps cannot move, they are often snuffed out. In no time, poisoned reefs turn white and lifeless.

Two factors lie behind the skyrocketing use of cyanide: The aquarium trade began in the mid-1980s to pay large sums for tropical reef fish, and restaurants in Southeast Asia and China began in the early 1990s to specialize in live reef fish. The result: The price for some reef fish, like groupers, has soared to $90 a kilogram ($40 a lb.), fueling an epidemic of cyanide fishing. Robert Johannes, a retired American marine biologist now living in Australia, estimates the trade in live reef fish in Southeast Asia at between 20,000 and 25,000 metric tons a year; worth more than $1 billion.


One problem is fishermen, like these Philippine divers, who poison corals while using cyanide to stun fish collected for commerce.

The fishermen are, in a real sense, pillaging their children's future so they can feed them today. But most feel they have little choice. With the collapse of near-shore fisheries after years of overexploitation and intense, unregulated competition from the greedy trawler fleets, impoverished coastal communities have been left with few options.

Other problems are having a spiraling effect on coral reefs. Erosion from agriculture and deforestation is darkening inshore waters with runoff, sometimes for many kilometers out to sea. The silt can choke the life out of corals by blocking out sunlight critical to the survival of the algae that live within polyp tissues.


4. Perhaps the most mysterious source of coral mortality is bleaching, shown here in a brain coral off Honduras. Bleaching occurs when polyps expel nutrient-recycling algae that live in their tissues. The cause remains largely unknown.


3. Lying in about 80 feet of water off Palm Beach, Florida, this reef is covered by nearly half a meter (18 in.) of silt that smothered the, corals after a 1989 storm. Runoff from land is a common ill of reefs.

In addition, runoff carries nutrients into the sea, stimulating the growth of excess algae and other organisms harmful to corals. On Australia's Great Barrier Reef and among coral reefs off Thailand, runoff nutrients may have created an explosion in the growth of plants that nourish the crown-of-thorns starfish, which also devours corals. The crown-of-thorns, named for the venomous spikes that cover it, eats reefs by extruding its stomach through its mouth, injecting into the reef a strong fluid that dissolves the coral polyps and then sucking out their remains. Since each starfish can eat daily an amount of coral that matches its own body area, a large infestation can ruin a reef quickly

A more mysterious problem is the bleaching of corals throughout the Pacific and in parts of the Caribbean. Bleaching occurs when polyps expel the colorful algae that live in their tissues, causing the corals to turn white. Sometimes the corals recover, sometimes they do not. Scientists have reported bleaching at 60 sites around the globe.

The cause of bleaching is uncertain. Various studies have linked it to unusually warm water temperature, to infestations of a newly discovered bacterium, to pollution or to an interaction of these. Coral experts are particularly concerned that if higher water temperatures are a factor, then global warming could doom the bulk of coral reefs.

Taken all together, these various ills could destroy ecosystems of almost unrivaled productivity and economic importance. But dire as present conditions may seem, we may now be entering a promising new era for reefs and their protection. In May 1995, 100 participants from 44 nations representing governments, non-governmental organizations, international development agencies and the private sector gathered in Durnaguete, appropriately within sight of Apo Island, and launched an action plan, the International Coral Reef Initiative, to save the world's coral reefs. This year was subsequently declared the International Year of the Reef at the Eighth International Coral Reef Symposium, held last June in Panama with 1,400 participants, including top reef scientists. The International Year of the Reef will feature coordinated reef studies throughout the world and see the launching of reef educational programs and of a renewed drive to increase funding for reef research and conservation.

At the core of the Dumaguete initiative is the belief that coastal communities with coral resources need to be intimately involved in all aspects of planning and management. "Reefs need to be managed place by place, and while each place is different, what is the same everywhere is that the people who depend upon, and will be affected by, management must be actively engaged in all aspects of the process," says Lynne Hale, associate director of the Coastal Resources Center at the University of Rhode Island in Narragansett.


2. Off Thailand, abandoned fish nets ensnare corals, causing physical damage and blocking other species from use of the reef. Careless boaters also damage reefs by dropping anchor directly on them.

 


5. A crown-of-thorns starfish devours corals in a Thai sea. Runoff has pumped nutrients into Thailand waters, leading to an explosion in starfish numbers. Each starfish can eat its body area in corals daily.

The success of this formula is proved at Apo Island, where Jesus Delmo is adamant about protecting the island's coral resources. "We don't allow trawlers in our waters, and anyone caught poaching is turned over to the proper authorities," he says matter of factly He calls trawlers "the strip miners of the sea."

Since the coral sanctuary was set up, Apo's fisheries have been thriving. Moreover, Apo stands out now as a must-stop for most serious divers who come to the Philippines. On the reef, divers see teeming schools of jack, their sleek, silver bodies undulating in synchronized unison. Dozens of species of parrot fish in lurid, Day-Glo colors graze the reef, cleaning it of algae. Bright-orange clown fish snuggle into poisonous sea anemones, swaying gently in the surge-a picture of perfect symbiosis. Moray eels, the rictus of malevolent smiles revealing dagger-like teeth, slither into dens under impressive stands of staghorn coral. White-tipped reef sharks cruise the coral in quest of lunch. On the ocean floor, giant groupers lurk under brain corals as big as boulders.

The demonstration value of Apo's reserve has been enormous. "We now get delegations regularly from other islands," smiles Delmo. "They come from Cebu, Negros, Siquijor, Bohol, even Mindanao, to see how our reserve works."

Delmo is proud of the island's accomplishments, as are all of Apo's residents. "When fishermen from other islands come here to see our reserve, they often can't believe their eyes," he says. "They are used to seeing dead reefs and few fish, so Apo is like an eden for them. When they learn that we set aside such a small portion of our reef, where no fishing of any kind is allowed, and that this small reserve caused fish populations on the rest of the reef to explode, they can hardly wait to go home and set up their own reserves.

Clearly, the Apo lesson is one that more coastal communities need to learn, and indeed some already have. Several small communities have launched similar programs, some pre-dating the one at Apo. Also, Thailand and the Caribbean island of Bonaire have both created reef-saving programs with similar success. Even a little effective management can go a long way toward conserving reef resources and earning hard cash for local communities. "We would certainly have lost our reef and our way of life if we hadn't taken the initiative to manage and conserve our reef" says Delmo. "We are now thinking of extending the sanctuary to cover more of our reef."

As the sun sets over Apo, splashing the sky with deep purple, Delmo's youngest son, just 10, runs up to him. "Daddy, they are fishing on our reserve," he says, clearly agitated.

Delmo grabs his flashlight and jogs off toward the beach. He thinks he knows who "they" are. As he nears a sheltered little cove, where outriggers lie in neat formation, one small boat, its lights blazing bright, sits 30 meters (100 ft.) out, over the reserve. It is not a poacher's vessel, as his son thought, but a small research boat from the Marine Laboratory at Silliman University Students are preparing to take a survey of the reef at night.


THE WATERS of the Bahamas are home to this nurse shark, resting beneath a sea fan coral. Reef-building corals generally prefer warm tropical and subtropical seas. No other ocean ecosystem rivals coral reefs in productivity. Southeast Asian reefs alone support perhaps 15 times the number of fish found in the North Atlantic. Reefs off Palau are home to 300 species of coral and more than 2,000 fish species.

After exchanging a few greetings, Delmo plops down on sand still warm from the sun. It has been a long day, and he is tired. "You know," he says, gazing out toward the reef, "10 years ago, none of us knew the value of a reef. Now we all do. And the children are the best policemen of all. They will be able to pick up where we left off."

Donald Hinrichsen has spent three years and logged more than 100,000 kilometers (60,000 mi.) circling the globe to research a book on the state of the world's coastal areas, including coral reefs like the one off Apo Island. His book, Living on the Edge: Managing Coasts in Crisis, will be published by Island Press this autumn.