A six-week expedition with Sea Education Association (SEA) to the Phoenix Islands Protected Area (PIPA) is underway. This will mark the first-ever oceanographic cruise to PIPA, and is a historic collaboration between SEA, the New England Aquarium, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution and the Republic of Kiribati. The objectives of this mission include the high-quality education of 13 students in both science and policy aspects of PIPA as well as scientific goals, which will be detailed in the coming weeks and months here on this blog.
Tuesday, 15 July 2014

Kanton Island is a classic coral atoll: a huge blue lagoon surrounded by a narrow rim of sand, scrub and palm trees, connected to the open ocean by a channel. Every change of tide, water from the lagoon rushes out, or the ocean rushes in with the incoming tide--all at speeds of 8 to 9 m.p.h., like a white water river. Let me tell you about one breathtaking dive there.


Kanton Island

We were dropped off on the ocean side in 120 feet just as the tide was about to come in. As we hit the water, flipping backwards from the zodiac, we were surrounded by a huge school of barracuda. These beautiful but intimidating eating machines were 3 to 4 feet long, their enormous mouths studded with razor-like teeth. They circled us, but we felt more out of curiosity than menace.


Reef shark (Photo: Jim Stringer)

Below I caught sight of two grey reef sharks. And off to the left a big manta ray cruised past, looking like a graceful, futuristic stealth fighter-bomber. Then, suddenly, we felt the current pick up and Greg Stone, Larry Madin and I were swept away as if pulled by a gigantic liquid vacuum cleaner. The bottom became more shallow, to about 50 feet as we entered the channel, and seemed to sweep by us as if we were in an airplane taking off while watching the runway. At first the bottom was just rubble; the current was so strong that rocks as big as bowling balls were rolled along towards the lagoon. We had to kick a bit to keep together, trying to stay at the same depth and retaining control. After a while the bottom changed to white sand, studded with the nests of triggerfish at 15 foot intervals, each guarded by its agitated resident. A few minutes later we entered a huge area of coral hills.

 
Corals in the Phoenix Islands (Photo: J. Stringer)


Back in the 2000 expedition this area of the lagoon was named "Coral Castles" and Greg remembered the immense 10 to 15 foot coral plates that were unmatched in beauty. Now some of the coral was dead because of the 2002 El Nino coral bleaching that impacted some parts the Phoenix Islands. We were gratified today to see that many of these coral plates had survived and were healthy and impressive (more about this area in this post by Brian Skerry). Finally, half way across the lagoon, the current slowed to a crawl. We surfaced, put up a 6 foot orange plastic "sausage" so that the zodiac could find us in the choppy lagoon, and were soon back on the NAI'A, happy and exhilarated.




Our first dive today, having traveled overnight to Enderbury Island, was a dramatic contrast. Here the coral reef around the island is totally healthy, unaffected by the bleaching event. As I entered the water I was surrounded by a school of 15 or 20 baby gray reef sharks. These babies are not exactly cute, but rather each is a exquisite sleek miniature of its formidable parent. The reef was covered by gorgeous plates of brown, tan and blue coral (More about this area in this post by Les Kaufman).


Colorful reef fish

Everywhere were colorful reef fish--wrasses darted here and there, pairs of bright yellow and patterned butterfly fish grazed, schools of snapper cruised, dazzling red damselfish defended their territories, parrotfish nibbled on corals, schools of silver jacks patrolled the wall, and curious spotted pufferfish with pouting lips swam awkwardly. After an hour and 10 minutes of this undersea fantasy, I surfaced, thinking how wonderful these dream dives have been. And I felt secure in the knowledge that the Phoenix Island Protected Area means that my grandchildren will be able to dive in this paradise some day if they wish.

-Alan Dynner

This entry is written by Les Kaufman, Professor of Biology at Boston University.

We reached Enderbury Island early this morning (September 20). First rose the sun; and then, the birds. It is a low island, basically a doughnut surrounding a guano lake of sorts. A landing party that went to explore the island in the early morning, returned to report that a rat eradication was badly needed; the birds were struggling (more about the rat problem on the Phoenix Islands here). Tukabu and Greg had killed a rat during their survey of the island with a well-aimed rock and then photographed it to document the species. They also found a bottlenose dolphin skull and lots of fishing floats, including one made of glass.


A nesting bird on the Phoenix Islands (Photo: G. Stone)

Meanwhile, others were underwater, in heaven. The moment we dropped into the sea just off NAI'A's bow in the lee of Enderbury, our mouths fell agape and stayed that way for the entire dive and a good while afterwards. A fully regenerated reef! Over 90% coral cover, sharks, dogtooth tuna and the joy of having a good reason to be careful about neutral bouyancy. The transect methodology was the same tired old routine, but we felt like whistling the entire time.




(Photo: Jim Stringer)

We hovered over fields upon fields of yellow scrolls and rolling sheets, broken here and there by massive colonies of other species. And therein lies the clue to the fact that all this glory was fresh in time and not some prevailing condition: why is one species of coral (Montipora aquatuberculata as it happens) so dominant in a system with up to two hundred coral species in the pool? David went back to the 2005 data. This reef had bleached pretty hard, like so many others in PIPA. But clearly, this reef had come back... most of the way.


(Photo: Jim Stringer)

In most respects it was a healed reef: total coral cover, the fishes, the abundance of coralline and lack of soft fleshy algae. Technically, though, it was not fully recovered until the native species diversity was restored. In tropical forests, regenerating lands can assume nearly the full ecological function set of a rainforest in about 100 years, but they are not mature until the diversity is fully restored. For the forest, this can take several centuries. For an equatorial mid-Pacific coral reef, who knows? Our other two data dives were also pleasant and went quickly. Plenty of sharks--though curiously small ones comprised much of the lot. Lots of Napoleon wrasse, including some really big ones, and lots of bohar snapper. On the last dive, a swarm of grey reef and white-tip reef sharks right along the transect line--a true delight.


(Photo: Jim Stringer)

I noticed that the schools of juveniles of a common wrasse contained a mimic blenny in their midst--fascinating, but vexing because now we don't know how long we were missing it on our censuses! Today we also discovered a (to us) new color form for the common Foster's hawkfish: grey with a flaming red back. After three dives, I took a break. Up on the top deck with Tuake, we talked fishing, Kiribati conservation and careers, as I kept an eye on the birds returning to their nests. Grey noddy--a life bird for me!


Birds of the Phoenix Islands (Photo: Greg Stone)

Later, after dinner, stars, clouds, a near-new moon, moving to new for the approaching day of reckoning. If I've yet to expunge my sins, at the least I've been cleansed of despair.

-Les Kaufman

Reader Evelyn Cook posted a question for Brian Skerry in the comments section of his most recent post. Here is that question and his response (in blue), written during the journey to Kanton Island.

Brian,
This shark looks like it is "positioning" in an attack mode? Did you stick around very long?
- Evelyn Cook


(Photo: Brian Skerry)

I'm not sure this shark was preparing to attack, though I must say that all the gray reef sharks in this part of the world seem to be always very hungry and are extremely aggressive and competitive. This animal came in for a few close passes, then moved further away. I stayed alone in the water in this location for maybe 30 - 40 additional minutes and experienced no other aggressive behaviors. But I am sure that if I stayed until it was even darker (after sunset), this shark (and others) would have come in again!

Best,
Brian

Monday September 14 - I felt like I was in the middle of a Dr. Seuss story on my third dive today at Nikumaroro. Rob Barrel, the owner of our expedition vessel NAI'A, took me to an underwater location he found that was absolutely loaded with fish! I dove late in the day, beginning around 4 p.m. and swam over some huge boulders and reef structure to get to this place where massive schools of fish swarmed. I settled down on top of a massive boulder and wrapped my legs around smaller rocks to steady myself in the swaying surge and began composing images through my viewfinder.


Yellowfin Surgeonfish schooling and feeding in the shallows of Nikumaroro island in the Phoenix Islands. (Photo: Brian Skerry)

The visibility was not great, but it didn't need to be for the type of photos I hoped to make. The fish were not especially shy and I was able to get fairly close. I watched schools of yellowfin surgeonfish and lined surgeonfish and shoals of mimic goatfish, snapper and chubs pulse by. I left my perch and floated into the water column amongst the schools trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, at least in my mind. My body ebbed and flowed with the surge and I composed and fired frame after frame, hoping to make pictures that would capture the essence of this incredible place.

As light levels dropped I moved slightly shallower, to the top of the reef where the breaking waves tossed me around like a leaf blowing in an autumn breeze, but where endless schools of fish whizzed by my dome port. I slowed my camera's shutter speed and my pictures began to interpret the scene with a dreamy, surrealistic feel. I looked past the hundreds of surgeonfish to where the crashing waves created a frothy white backdrop and saw four giant trevally racing through the surf. These fish were the size of saint bernard dogs, but acted like wildebeest storming across the Serengeti as they cruised over the reef flats. Silver and black in color, they possessed a real "attitude" from my layman's perspective, like a street gang looking for a fight.

They were bold and aggressive clearly spying me from a distance, then making a beeline for me and covering the distance in seconds. Realizing I wasn't something in which they had an interest, they paused for barely a second, just enough time for me to squeeze off a shot, and then swam out of my view.

As the sun was setting on the surface and this underwater place took on the light levels of a dimly lit pub, sharks began to materialize in the haze. Just one blacktip at first, but then a few followed by increasing numbers of gray reef sharks. I have seen this behavior before on remote reefs and knew it was the "witching hour" when the sharks come into the shallows to feed. The gray reefs were the boldest, cruising in repeatedly to check me out, then turning their attention back to the fish.


A gray reef shark cruises in to check out photographer Brian Skerry during as sunset dive on Nikumaroro Island in the Phoenix Islands. (Photo: Brian Skerry)

As I swam away from the shoreline out towards open water to be picked up by the skiff, I saw a half dozen milkfish ascending in the blue and needlefish schooling in the dappled golden light just below the surface. Riding the skiff back to NAI'A I replayed the dive in my mind, thinking how this scene likely occurred every evening, but that no one was ever here to see it, except on this night.

-Brian Skerry

We arrived at the first Phoenix Island, Nikumaroro to incredibly calm seas, clear blue skies and dolphins swimming around the bow of the vessel. After five days of rough passage, it was welcome by all. It did not take long before the skiffs were in the water, our dive and science gear unpacked and readied when I found myself bounding off the waves on the fat pontoon of a NAI'A skiff heading to the tree lined shore of Nikumaroro.




Rainbow near the Phoenix Islands (Photo: Randi Rotjan)

The island lies flat across the horizon with green scaveloa bushes as the dominate growth with coconut palms poking up regularly and often up through to the sky. We sped past the wreck of the Norwich City, a freighter that went aground on the island in 1918 and now all that remains are the boilers and engine sitting high on the reef. There are other pieces of the ship scattered about the coral and underwater down the slope of the island.


Nikumaroro Island

We headed to the eastern point of the islands were the water currents whip across it and the windward side waves break in long rolling white walls. In a group, we all grabbed our science gear and cameras, and fell into the water. After the bubbles cleared, I was at 10 feet and descending. The water was clear, really clear. I could see over 100 feet in all directions.


Reef fish in Nikumaroro (Photo: Greg Stone)

There were about 150 barracuda, 300 travelly and 6 gray reef sharks all around us. The current was strong, so Alan Dynner and I swam for the reef where the current would be less. Once we got there, I saw for the first time the effect of the coal bleaching event of 2002 that struck the Phoenix Islands.

Due to global warming, the water around these island warmed above what the coral can withstand. There was a lot of dead of coral, but also a lot of regrowth, the reef had begun to recover. Fish populations were as abundant as ever, diverse and very curious. These fish never see divers, so many of them, including the sharks, had to come by and take a close look at us.

Later in the day, we dove the windward side of the island where waters mix more and the coral was in even better condition, which was great. Fish populations are strong everywhere and the protection that Kiribati has given these islands in PIPA is working.

-Greg Stone, PIPA Expedition Leader