Basic HTML Version
Odd Faces in Odd Places
Exceptional macro and wide-angle photographic
opportunities exist in the most unlikely habitats. Palau is
no exception to this rule; diving beneath Koror’s docks
and piers can be highly productive, especially for fish
geeks and photographers. Resembling the creatures of a
science-fiction story, species in these areas are not flashy
and obvious like many coral-reef inhabitants. Instead,
bizarre animals like lumpy frogfish, flattened flounders,
spiny devilfish, hideous stonefish, reptilian crocodilefish,
Tozeuma shrimp and juvenile cuttlefish are inevitably
found along Malakal Harbor’s bottom. Sea hares and
nudibranchs slime their way across algae, sponges and
tunicates; elusive banded pipefish and mandarinfish poke
their heads out of the rubble, and juvenile spadefish,
diamondfish and sometimes lionfish swim among light
beams falling through dock slats. Little known for its muck
diving, Palau’s docks and piers provide a fertile habitat for
Micronesia’s most unusual critters.
74
|
SUMMER 2012
WE ND Y C A P I L I - W I L K I E
VITAL CONNECTEDNESS
To the casual observer, Palau’s marine communities seem
like dazzling assemblies of many beautiful, individual
things, all competing for food, space and sunlight. But
these creatures have evolved close relationships with their
environment, and as they divide and multiply they build an
underwater galaxy with innumerable connections. Seen from
afar, Palau’s marine habitats, including all the species that
exist in them, function as one giant living entity. Through
my explorations of underwater caves, mangroves and reefs,
it is apparent the entire country’s marine resources are
intimately linked. Yet this web of ecological associations is
so complicated that delineating the steps involved in the
transfer of energy from one habitat to the next is exceedingly
difficult. Palau is not simply a destination with collections
of odd and intriguing creatures. It is a dynamic puzzle of
genetically diverse pieces that coalesce into ecosystems and,
when fully assembled, reveal a connectivity that radiates
through the western Pacific.
After a week of dives, at least one thing about Palau is evident:
The country’s fish stocks are extraordinarily healthy. Compared
with those of other islands around the world, Palau’s renewable
marine resources have endured. A small human population,
methods and ethics of conservation that go back thousands
of years, absence of major agricultural runoff and an active
community of scientists play significant roles in the current
state of the environment. But like all small island nations, Palau
faces challenges. How, for example, can it effectively protect
its exclusive economic zone from illegal fishing and shark
finning? A series of marine protected areas have been put in
place around the country, but the most effective management
has come from empowering local villages to manage their
own resources, a method that is not new in Palau. As the
future unfolds, dialogues continue among fishermen, state and
national governments, local and international nongovernmental
organizations (NGOs), diving operators and scientists to ensure
conservation strategies are working.
AN ENDURING LEGACY
Days and nights pass in a blur of bright fish, and I eventually
find time to reflect on all that my eyes, ears and body have
been exposed to — not just unforgettable shark encounters
but also explorations of Japanese wrecks sent violently to the
lagoon’s bottom almost 70 years ago, dives through massive
submerged caverns and along soft coral-laden slopes. I begin
to understand why Palau’s smells, sights and sounds are so
mesmerizing and inspirational. These islands, painted in
every shade of green, this deep, dark sea and this wild array
of life all contribute to the signature of the place. The islands
of Palau and its people defy many pressing issues of our time
while providing a home for thousands of organisms. As time
marches on, this tropical paradise certainly has the potential
to overcome short-term thinking and become a true model of
dive tourism and sustainable resource management for island
nations around the world.
The time has come to depart, and I find it almost heartbreaking
to leave this organic mirage of verdant islands where so much life
is so closely connected to the cycles of the moon. At the airport,
Palau’s national flag flutters on a pole; a pale, yellow circle on
a simple blue background represents the moon. The moon is
significant not only to local fishermen, who depend on it to know
where, when and what to fish, but also to recreational divers,
who rely on its influence to produce reliable high-voltage action.
Ascending into the night on a flight to Guam, I view a black sky
and know the now-waning moon continues to work its magic on
Palau’s reefs, providing the most thrilling diving anywhere in the
world. I can’t help but believe I’ve found that elusive, inspirational
place we all seek in one way or another.
AD