Posted on 08 June 2011
This tale is fraught with
sharks and treasure, pirates and poachers,
with strife and solutions. So don your gear
and dive with me, as we go on a little treasure
hunt.
“Apo Reef is the Jewel
of Mindoro,” said former Sablayan Mayor
Godofreido Mintu over a seafood dinner the
night before. “Perhaps you may come to realize
just what its treasure is, but only after
you dive.” Fuelled by a lifelong fascination
with both pirate lore and bizarre quests,
the old man’s words struck home.
So now, surrounded by a plethora of undersea
life 65 feet below the eastern face of Apo
Isle in Occidental Mindoro, I pray to Poseidon
and secretly assign myself a treasure hunt
– a quest to find the true ‘jewels’ of the
deep. Not real jewels, of course – but whatever
makes this area unique. Through the years,
I’ve endured enough trips to unearth everything
from bargain sports goods to the comics
of a forgotten age, so this quest feels
strangely familiar.
Seven-strong for luck, both our WWF dive
column and my thoughts drift leisurely,
propelled alongside a heavily encrusted
sea wall by invisible ocean currents. My
attention shifts to the wall, where a neon-hued
array of fairy basslets frolic amidst the
swaying tips of crimson gorgonians. I peer
in to inspect their knobby rows of polyps,
careful not to touch anything, Leave No
Trace (LNT) principles of primary importance.
A minute later, an impossibly
huge school of Yellow-dashed Fusilier (Pterocaesio
randalli) appears from beneath. I try to
estimate their number but simply cannot
– they coalesce into a single mass which
fills my vision end to end. In a moment
they are gone, and I am left looking down
into the blue.
This truly is Poseidon’s
realm. Consider that 71% of the Earth is
covered in water, and 97% of all this forms
its vast oceans. Covering just 1% of the
ocean floor, coral reefs host an incredible
variety of life: one in four marine creatures
live within these undersea oases – and nowhere
are these more beautiful and productive
than in the wondrous Pacific archipelago
known as the Philippines.
The Origin of Life and Legend
Apo Reef lies at the northern tip of the
Coral Triangle, a 5.7 million square-kilometre
region which spans the seas of six countries
including the Philippines, Indonesia, Malaysia,
Papua New Guinea, the Solomon Islands and
Timor-Leste. A fourth of the world’s islands
lie nestled within this exquisite region,
distinguished by the presence of at least
500 species of reef-building coral.
The Coral Triangle is so abundant in marine
life that it has been hailed by globally-renowned
coral expert and Corals of the World author
Dr. Charlie Veron as ‘the centre of Earth’s
marine diversity’ – home to 605 out of the
798 known reef-building corals and 2228
types of reef fish which include the Sulawesi
Coelacanth (Latimeria menadoensis), a living
relic of the Dinosaur era, thought to have
been extinct for some 70 million years.
View Coral Triangle
expedition in a larger map
Like the Bermuda Triangle, the area has
also spawned a menagerie of folklore. During
the Age of Sail, both pirates and privateers
swore of surmounting enchanting mermaids,
wailing sirens, ship-tearing kraken and
all manner of sea monsters.
In actuality, the region
is an enormous undersea food factory, whose
produce directly benefits half-a-billion
people yearly. A single square kilometre
of healthy reef can keep on producing over
40 metric tonnes of grouper, oyster, tuna
and other forms of seafood year on year.
Obviously, the potential of our seas to
sustain life – both human and otherwise
– is Leviathan-sized.
Paradise Assailed
In Greek mythology, the infant Zeus nursed
from a bountiful horn carried by the nymph
Amalthea. This so-called Cornucopian Horn
came to be associated with both wealth and
abundance. Properly protected, the Philippines’
27,000 square kilometers of coral reefs
can too, turn into a Cornucopian Horn, providing
for the needs of millions in a very real
bid to eradicate Asian poverty.
Paradise lies troubled,
however. For over a century, coastal development,
destructive fishing practices, coral mining,
sedimentation, overfishing, chemical pollution
and climate change consequences such as
ocean warming, acidification and coral bleaching
have been waging an undersea war against
our marine enclaves.
Now the Philippines, together with Indonesia
– hosts the world’s most threatened coral
reefs, less than 5% of which remain in excellent
condition. Faced with this problem, many
countries within the Coral Triangle established
Marine Protected Areas or MPAs to conserve
what’s left.
Undersea Enclaves
“Marine Protected Areas
evolved when people realized that portions
of coral reefs needed continual protection
to stay productive,” explains WWF Conservation
Programs Vice-President Joel Palma. “These
areas go by a host of names: MPAs, fish
sanctuaries or no-take zones. All of them
are loosely defined as inter or subtidal
spots reserved by law for the protection
of a given area.”
Today the Philippines hosts about 10% of
the world’s MPAs – over 500, more than any
in Southeast Asia. Established largely through
local government initiatives and maintained
through the blood, sweat and tears of local
coastal communities, these undersea enclaves
are scattered throughout the archipelago
to provide vital safe havens for Philippine
marine life as well as a growing number
of eco-conscious tourists.
Sadly, many MPAs are
plagued by a lack of funding. Mismanagement
is rife, and it is estimated that little
over 100 MPAs are properly administered.
The rest are dubbed as ‘paper parks’ – areas
urgently needing funding and professional
management. MPA incursions due to hunting
have been recurring sources of friction
between the Philippines and its neighbours.
In September of 2007,
126 endangered Green Sea Turtles (Chelonia
mydas) and 10,000 turtle eggs were found
aboard Chinese fishing vessel F/V 01087
in Sulu.
In August of 2008, 101
critically-endangered Hawksbill Turtles
(Eretmochelys imbricata) were found aboard
Vietnamese fishing vessel F/V Q.ng 91234-TS
near El Nido.
In April of 2009, 14 Green Sea Turtles were
found aboard an unmarked Chinese speedboat
near Cauayan Isle, also in El Nido.
Since the 11000s, the
World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF) has been
working with partners in the private sector,
government agencies and civil society in
furthering scientific research, policy reform,
protected area and community-based management
within the Coral Triangle. Its Philippine
office has pioneered the establishment and
upkeep of Marine Protected Areas in some
of the country’s best-known and most productive
coral reefs.
Two of the country’s
best-managed MPAs include Apo Reef off the
western coast of Occidental Mindoro and
the Tubbataha Reefs off the Sulu Sea.
A Jewel in the Orient’s
Pearl
Hailed as the Jewel of Mindoro and a former
world-class dive site, 30 years of destructive
fishing has left much of Apo Reef in an
abysmal state. In October of 2007, WWF and
the local government of Sablayan in Mindoro
spearheaded the total closure of Apo Reef,
at 34 square-kilometers – the country’s
largest – for fishing. In its stead followed
alternative livelihood programmes and a
robust ecotourism drive designed to keep
livelihoods afloat while allowing the reef
ample time to recover.
Giant fish aggregation
devices, locally termed Payaw, have been
installed to provide alternate fishing spots
for coastal communities. The crude but effective
contraptions feature a buoy, a counterweight
and anywhere from 10 to 20 giant coconut
fronds. Algae growths on the decomposing
fronds attract herbivores such as surgeonfish
and rabbitfish, which then draw in larger
predators.
Local group leader Elmo
Bijona testifies to the effectiveness of
the devices, “A single Payaw can daily yield
maybe 15-kilogrammes of good fish per boat.
You can land Tambakol, Tulingan, Galunggong
and even Yellowfin Tuna on any given night.”
The steady rise in the size and number of
fish has been matched by an upsurge of tourists,
proving that ecological stewardship goes
hand in hand with profit.
Even more dramatic results
are evident in other model sites. From 2004
to 2005, the world-renowned Tubbataha Reefs
off Palawan doubled yearly fish biomass
from 166 to 318 metric tonnes per square
kilometre – a yield seven times more productive
than a typical reef. In addition, Tubbataha’s
fertile reefs constantly seed adjoining
regions such as eastern Palawan and western
Visayas with fish and invertebrate spawn.
Through the work of WWF and its allies,
Apo Reef may one day be what Tubbataha is
now.
Natural Investments
Apo Reef differs from all other WWF-Philippines
project sites in that it is kept afloat
almost exclusively by donations. Bright
Skies for Every Juan is a pioneering programme
which enjoins Cebu Pacific passengers to
indirectly offset the ecological impacts
of their flights by donating to the upkeep
of the reef.
The programme synergizes the efforts of
WWF, Cebu Pacific and the local government
of Sablayan to bolster the region’s resilience
to climate change impacts through MPA protection,
the promotion of responsible ecotourism
and the introduction of alternative livelihoods.
"Cebu Pacific’s
decision to spearhead climate adaptation
is a prime example of private-sector leadership,”
says WWF-Philippines CEO Jose Ma. Lorenzo
Tan. “Our government alone cannot turn back
the tide of climate effects. It is the private
sector which has the skills needed to think
incisively, move efficiently and manage
risk.”
In the face of worsening climate impacts,
protecting biodiversity enclaves makes perfect
sense. Says Tan, “Our work in Apo Reef and
other protected areas focus on more than
just biodiversity conservation: should we
succeed in halting climate change, these
pockets of marine resilience will provide
the building blocks needed to restore natural
mechanisms which provide food and livelihood
for millions of people. This is a natural
investment.”
A White-tipped Oracle
Back in Apo Reef, the
hunt continues. Over an hour’s exploration
has yielded little in the way of jewels
or answers. Everywhere the dawn rays begin
slicing through the water, reflecting off
an innocuous shadow 30-feet away. Perhaps,
I reflect, what’s important in treasure
hunting is the journey. The best hunters
have all learned to pick out treasure from
trash. So too must we allow the hunt ...
to transform the hunter.
Inexorably, the shadow morphs into a White-tip
Reef Shark (Triaenodon obesus), itself on
a hunt, as evidenced by its menacing and
exaggerated motions. I tense up, one gloved
hand cupping a dive-knife used more for
show than anything else. The shark torpedoes
onward. Time slows down. Suddenly an enveloping
shadow smothers all light!
Puzzled, I gaze up and
realize just what attracted the shark in
the first place. The fusiliers – thousands
upon thousands of them, have returned. The
shark pulls up and dives into the mass.
As I watch the fascinating
interplay between predator and prey, I notice,
as if for the first time, the fusiliers’
gleaming hues of cobalt, ruby and gold,
gloriously illuminated by the morning. Then
and there I realize that the shark’s hunt
led me to the end of mine.
As with the grandest treasure tales, the
most valuable fortunes really do lie sunken
beneath the blue. As inhabitants of the
world’s second-largest archipelago, we must
realize that the sea’s greatest treasure
is its ability to provide – but that providence
shall only continue when we in turn, learn
to protect what we have been gifted with.
Satisfied, I nod to the scene and swim off
to rejoin the group.
65 feet below the Jewel
of Mindoro, at the apex of the Coral Triangle,
I have finally accomplished my treasure
hunt.
