There was a buzzing of emails back and forth between Caicos Pine Recovery Project partners in October as Nursery Caretaker Junel “Flash” Blaise and I cleaned and counted seeds from this year’s pine cone collections. The number of seeds was unexpectedly high this year — a grand total of 8,676 seeds were found, smashing ten times over last year’s collection of only 772 seeds.

Harvest of cones from Caicos Pines in Pine Cay and Middle Caicos

The overwhelming majority of the seeds, 8,488 of them, were from the Pine Cay population, which is still relatively healthy and productive. Only 188 seeds came from the few productive trees in Middle Caicos, and no mature cones were found in North Caicos. Each cone has the capacity to produce over 100 seeds, but low pollen load in the air due to so few healthy trees producing it means that fewer cone scales are pollinated. Pines are ancient trees that existed before insects, so they depend exclusively on wind for pollination. Interestingly, though the cones usually ripen and open in mid-October, this year the cones began opening in mid-August. The cause of this shift is unknown.

Cones were gathered by Flash and me on Pine Cay and Middle Caicos with specially-made cone collectors, constructed by hand from Casuarina poles, 2-quart juice cans, cloth collection bags, and Velcro strips. Flash impressed with his tree-climbing prowess, gathering cones even during high winds and rain related to far-away disturbance from Hurricane Maria. While working in rain during the collection days was annoying, it proved fortuitous — humidity and moisture causes pine cones to close their scales, locking the seed inside and making it easier to collect.

Junel "Flash" Blaise harvest pine cones on Pine Cay.

The cones, which filled three large garbage cans, were brought to DECR’s North Caicos office where the Pine Project staff members knocked, pulled, and picked seeds out of the cones using fine tweezers, needle tools, and headlamps to see inside the cones. The cones were allowed to dry further (the dryer cones get, the more their scales open) and then a second beating of the cones yielded even more seed. When I described the increasing numbers of seed appearing as the laborious picking-out went on, Millennium Seed Bank contact Tom Heller asked if we were yet having any disturbing dreams related to picking seeds out of pine cones — and the question startled. Indeed, the days on end of picking out seeds must have gotten into our heads, because we had begun experiencing disturbed sleep related to dreams about digging pine seeds out of cones — and sometimes even crawling into the cones to get the seeds out! Apparently, this syndrome is a fairly commonplace occupational hazard related to cleaning pine cones of their seeds, well known to the employees of the Millennium Seed Bank. Some stress from work, I suppose, remains unanticipated and surprising.

Junel Blaise and the author display the "dream" seed collection.

The majority of this year’s “dream” seed collection will be sent to the Royal Botanic Garden, Kew’s Millennium Seed Bank in the United Kingdom, where it will be safely stored long-term in a state-of-the-art underground deep-freeze facility. This collection will provide a safety net of living tissue that can be grown if the wild trees are lost —like a Noah’s Ark for our National Tree. Some of the seed will also be grown by RBG Kew’s UK Overseas Territories Programme team, using experimental methods on how best to propagate the plant in sterile laboratory and temperate greenhouse conditions. Plants resulting from this effort will be repatriated back to TCI when ready.

A portion of the seed will also be planted in the Caicos Pine Recovery Project nursery in North Caicos, where they will join last year’s seedlings and provide a new generation of pines to be replanted into the wild. Together, these efforts will support the dream of having a once-again stable and safe population of our National Tree growing in the wild — and that’s about as much as we want to dream about pine trees anymore! a

The DECR and the Caicos Pine Recovery Project wish to express sincerest gratitude to Pine Cay and The Meridian Club in facilitating and supporting this extremely important conservation measure to save our National Tree!

Twenty years ago I flew into the Turks & Caicos Islands, arriving in a small, wind-blown airport. A newly certified scuba diver, I went to Providenciales’ Northwest Point and dove amongst the brilliantly colored reefs that fringe the ocean wall which plunges 7,000 feet to the sea floor. Weightless, in the violet-blue and turquoise green waters which teemed with life, I felt something deep inside me change.
When I got home I hovered like a bumble bee over a watercolor set under a glass counter at an art store. The clerk finally looked at me and said, “Do you want buy this or what?” I did, and at home dabbed colors for the sparkling turquoise seas I’d seen, the deep violet-indigo of the sea wall. Little did I know that I would look back 20 years later and realize that the Islands were the place that inspired me to paint.

As if my heart were attached by a bungee cord, I returned to the country again and again. On each departure, I’d gaze out the airplane window and wonder what each wave of development would do to these beautiful islands. Finally, on one return trip, I vowed to become more involved in marine conservation efforts. So in June 2011, I returned for four weeks toting the tools of my trade — watercolors, cameras, digital recorders, scuba gear — to document conservation work and explore what truths these Islands had to offer to marine conservation efforts around the world.
At a time when it is easy to despair about the future for our marine environment, I was heartened by the pragmatic dedication of the conservationists I met. It is easy to be fatalistic, to think that no matter how much is done to protect the environment, our natural resources will inevitably be destroyed by the twin forces of overdevelopment and overpopulation. It is much harder to faithfully carve paths of action which really can preserve our natural resources. And that is so much of what I saw when observing the work of activists, marine biologists and the staff of the Department of Environment & Coastal Resources (DECR).
Of particular interest to me were mangroves because of the enormously important role they play in marine ecosystems. There are certain truths we all know and one of them is that life needs a place to take hold. Along with coral reefs and sea grass meadows, mangroves are a key place where the life of the sea “takes hold.” Their labyrinthine, maze-like roots provide that essential shelter for newly hatched fish. None of this really hit home for me until I snorkeled a few feet below the surface in a mangrove in South Caicos with marine biologists from The School for Field Studies and saw thousands of brilliantly colored yellow and blue fish — juvenile damselfish and blue wrasses. The profusion of life was stunning.
DECR Scientific Officer Bryan “Naqqi” Manco described to me how mangroves, in addition to providing nurseries for juvenile fish, literally “stitch the islands to seafloor” protecting them from erosion, especially damage from hurricanes. In addition, mangroves can be a key component of fighting global warming, since they store 50 times more carbon in their soil per hectare than tropical forests. In the lush shade of the arc-shaped portico of the Environmental Centre, DECR Scientific Officer Eric Salamanca showed me rows and rows of red mangrove seedlings planted in individual pots. Salamanca described the painstaking process through which each seedling is sprouted from a seed in water, then grown in a pot with soil and finally planted in a cylindrical hole drilled into the limestone. Salamanca described how he was able to raise the seedlings using fresh water, simplifying the process greatly. Later that day we drove to a site where over 1,000 mangrove seedlings had been planted in Frenchman’s Creek Nature Reserve.
Marsha Pardee, marine biologist and founder of Adopt-A-Mangrove, showed me a site where mangroves were planted where they have never been grown before. On a brisk windy morning we paddled out to Star Island, an abandoned man-made island project in the Princess Alexandra National Park where she spearheaded the effort to grow and plant nearly 500 seedlings. Marsha and I split up on the island, each with a slate in hand, to count and assess the health of the seedlings.
Curator of the Environmental Centre Lormeka Williams described how the smallest fish in a catch used to be a foot long, and now as fish populations shrink, the smallest are bait-sized “sprat.” And she described how the plummeting fish populations are incrementally proportional to the destruction of coral reefs, sea grass meadows, and, yes, mangroves. “I believe we were put here as stewards of this land, we were put here to take care of it,” Lormeka told me. “And as we have grown as a civilization we have lost that purpose. I grew up with fishermen. And I’ve seen the changes. I remember when my father would come home from lobster season the first night and we’d have a basket of lobster. When they fished they never took small ones. They preferred to leave them, so they could grow into big ones.”
As I journeyed through the Islands and spoke with people, I was struck by how many times certain realities that have global scope were “writ big” in TCI, as if because of the small size of this island nation the volume on certain issues was exponentially turned up. For instance, because the Islands lie so low above sea level, global warming would have an alarmingly dramatic effect. DECR Scientific Officer Marlon Hibbert reported that the highest sea surface temperatures ever recorded in TCI were from 1998 through 2005 and that the worst cases of coral bleaching occurred during two of these years. And he added that “the incidence and intensity of tropical cyclones (hurricanes) are being fueled by higher temperatures.”
On a global scale, climate change is making it slowly to the front burner of policy making. Former President Bill Clinton recently remarked that the impact of climate change “was enough to choke a horse, one of the two or three biggest challenges in the world.” And yet in TCI, as in every nation around the globe, the gap between science and public opinion is huge. “The only time we think about global warming is during hurricane season or some kind of extreme event,” Lormeka Williams told me. “Otherwise, no one really thinks about it. That’s why we’re trying to develop a climate-change policy. Right now to most everyone it’s still just a fantasy, a myth, something that scientists made up.”
On the flip side, the impact of positive change is highly apparent. For instance the “eat local” movement has the potential to reduce the now huge percentage of food flown or shipped in. While in North Caicos I met Courtney Missick, who is successfully farming several acres of land and selling produce locally. And it’s not just our position in the food web that’s so key, but the waste disposal web, as well. Because the Islands are so small, this issue is all the more evident. DECR Director Wesley Clerveaux described why the coastal waters “feel” so wonderful, and that equation is plain and simple scientific fact: the water quality is excellent. Development came late to the Turks & Caicos Islands.
“Thank God, we’re late bloomers,” Clerveaux said, “From the water quality standpoint, compared to Jamaica or Miami Beach, you can’t find anything better. In Jamaica for example, the Montego Bay Beach has coliform bacteria, which are from the sewage treatment plant. In Miami Beach, likewise, you have a lot of sewage being discharged. The problem is central sewage systems. When they break down, they have no choice but to discharge raw sewage into the central harbor. But TCI has a decentralized system in which sewage is not dumped into the ocean. Every major hotel has its own sewage treatment facility; we do regular monitoring and we advocate that they use the gray water for irrigation. The risk of direct discharge is not there.”
What Clerveaux tells me hits especially close to home. I grew up along the Hudson River in New York. Forty years ago it was so rife with untreated sewage and cancer-causing PCBs, that you wouldn’t have dared take a swim in it. Today, the water quality is much improved. But just this morning as I write this, The New York Times reports that because of a fire at a sewage treatment plant, millions of gallons of raw sewage are being released into the Hudson River.
But much work still lies ahead. A broad-based sustainable waste management plan for TCI has yet to be executed. The head of the Environmental Club, Stacie Steensland, took me to visit the dump on Provo, where garbage — plastic, metal, paper and rubber — is still burned. Haitian refugees live at the dump, meeting the trucks when they arrive. Amidst air thick with stench and smoke and dust, they pick through the new refuse, searching for food. I reminded myself that places like this are a hard-bitten truth that plague almost every nation in the world. But it made it no less disturbing. And its close proximity to sleekly serene five-star resorts made it even more gut-wrenching.
While Stacie turned her car around on the narrow dirt road, I took photographs. It was a 360º panorama of debris, punctuated by hills of burning garbage and patches of charred and blackened metal. But Stacie is hardly the grim reaper: she’s all about solutions. Along with getting the Environmental Club off the ground she helps out with local garbage clean-ups such as those sponsored by the Turks & Caicos Hotel & Tourism Association (TCHTA) and captains a local running club, the TCI Rubbish Runners, who pick up garbage six days a week on their morning jogs. She is constantly in touch with new initiatives on the Islands, such as encouraging Islanders to use cloth shopping totes instead of plastic bags. We visit a local café called Green Bean that uses TCI Waste Disposal for their residential and commercial trash pick-up, including recycling services. They recycle glass into a paving aggregate and sort aluminum, cardboard and plastic to be shipped to the United States for recycling. The big hitch is that individuals and businesses must pay for the service, it’s not provided by the government.
But perhaps the greatest truth I experienced was one of the simplest: the truth that if we honor each other’s experience, we will be the better for it, and that this is key to our collective future. On my last full day in TCI I rose before sunrise. David Stone, co-founder of the Turks & Caicos Reef Fund, and I met Amdeep Sanghera, project officer for the Turks & Caicos Islands Turtle Project, to go turtle tagging. When we arrived at the shore a snorkel guide confidently pronounced, as if issuing a post-mortem, “You won’t find any turtles, they’ve all split.” Adjusting his mask Amdeep dryly said with a wry-eyed wink, “Well, shall we have a go at it?”
He quickly impressed us by chasing down a juvenile Hawksbill which swam so fast, I couldn’t imagine catching it. “When a turtle kicks into gear,” Amdeep later recounted, “it really takes off like Star Wars.” The turtle had already been tagged. Amdeep quickly took biometric measurements and then let a young boy who had been watching us release the turtle it into the ocean. Tag number WS-2774/WS-2754 was back at sea.
Amdeep told us about his work in South Caicos and the role that turtle hunting has played in the Islands since A.D. 600 when the first human settlers, native West Indians, arrived by northwesterly Antillean current flows from larger islands to the south. What impressed me most was that the key element for developing a plan for the sustainable management of turtle fisheries was to honor the age-old tradition of turtle hunting. The project holds the tradition in an equal place in the policy making process as the respect for the turtle’s intrinsic value and the measures needed prevent the possible extinction of the Islands’ nesting population.
But as a self-confessed “turtle hugger,” I initially found it hard to accept the eating of turtle meat and the idea of a “sustainable” harvest. Whenever I have encountered a turtle underwater, I found myself completely enchanted by their grace and gentleness. And two weeks before I had visited with Conch World Engineer Eiglys Trejo, who was raising seven baby Green sea turtles that Amdeep had found as weak and stranded stragglers in two recently hatched empty turtle nests six months before.
“He said, ‘Don’t name them because most of them will probably die in the first three months,’ but I did name them,” said Eiglys with a smile, “and they did survive.” All of them will be released when their shell measures at least 10 inches. Eiglys moved nimbly about the tank with a care that was at once the precision of an engineer and the attentiveness of a mother with two toddlers at home.
As they swam swiftly about in a five-foot deep circular tank, leaving small trails of concentric ripples, Eiglys described their different personalities, how they’ll occasionally scuffle with each other and one will defensively lay its front fins on its back. Their heads and fins were still slightly oversized, giving them a goofy look. But at the same time the interlocking plate-pattern of their shell and fin markings and tiny-beaked heads were already clearly defined as if they were full-grown turtles in miniature. Holding one of these six-inch long turtles in my hands, hearing their wheezy breath and feeling the quiver of their soft pearl-white bellies, I couldn’t imagine eating turtle meat.
But as I learned more from Amdeep about the tradition of turtle hunting, I began to appreciate more deeply the important cultural role turtle meat plays in the Islands, that the meat is gifted to various families when it is hunted and no part of the turtle goes to waste. It is hunted with great respect and skill. On my last day, Alizee Zimmerman, the daughter of an expatriate, told me how when her mother was in labor with her over two decades ago, she was brought turtle soup because it was one of the most nourishing and most culturally valued food that one could give a person.
“If you were to go into these Islands with a purely biological perspective,” Amdeep explained, “just finding out how many turtles are in the waters and how many are harvested and look to base your recommendations just on that data, you would fail because there are people involved here: fisherman, community members, families that have basically eaten turtles for generations. And to not to consult them . . . it’s not right basically, they’ve got a right to harvest and exploit their resources. So they need to be involved in management discussions.” The goal of the TCI Turtle Project is to make recommendations to the DECR for improved and practical management of the turtle fishery so that the turtle populations can benefit islanders and visitors for generations to come.
When I readied myself to leave after four weeks, I left with a full heart from having met so many dedicated and inspiring people and appreciating the simplest of truths all the more deeply: the ever-expanding truths of interconnection and the age-old truth that by honoring each other’s experience, as individuals and community members, we can build a stronger and better future together. And last, but not least, the truth that our actions matter, they make a difference, and we can never fully comprehend the ripple effect they have throughout the world. a

Liz Cunningham is an American writer and illustrator living in the San Francisco Bay area. She is the author of Talking Politics: Choosing the President in the Television Age (Praeger).

As a child, I was not exactly popular, and by the definition of many of my classmates, downright eccentric. Rather than spending my allowance on new fashionable shoes, designer jeans or collectable cards, I spent it at the feed store. I would arrive home happily with several paper bundles of different grains — cracked corn, sunflower, thistle seed, millet. I would go out into the back garden and scatter them all over the ground and then go inside to watch through the back window. Bird watching was a big part of my growing up, but my cohorts at school thought it was a strange and boring thing to do and a pretty silly use of money.

A lot has changed since then, and whether bird watching is a silly use of money or not, it certainly is a significant use of money. The United States Fish and Wildlife Service estimated that in 2006, bird watching (now commonly called “birding”) activities accounted for over $30 billion in spending on the hobby, and that at least 20% of Americans spend at least some time watching birds recreationally. According to other studies, a significant proportion of these hobbyists have a higher-than-average household income and also travel more frequently than average.

Yellow Warbler

Tri-colored Heron

Workshop participants

Birding field trip to Middle Caicos

By Jodi Johnson, Environmental Officer, DECR

Since the inception of the National Parks Ordinance of 1975 (and its subsequent amendments in 1992), the salinas of Grand Turk have been overlooked as part of the Protected Area System despite their size, comprising the largest total area of salt ponds in the Turks & Caicos Islands (TCI) covering approximately 200 hectares (494 acres), along with the historical role they played when salt production was at its peak. For many years, efforts have been ongoing to conserve and protect these salinas which are also ecologically important as wetlands serving many functions including, but not limited to flood control, providing vital habitats for many organisms and also a source of recreation and income.

A major development towards this effort took place in 2008 when a group of concerned students from the H.J. Robinson High School came up with a research project (“Indispensable Salinas”) to analyze the water quality of six salinas across Grand Turk which they then entered in the Inter-High School Science Fair. Deservedly, they secured first place and were invited to present their findings to the Ministry of Environment & District Administration where they explained that the unsightly appearance and odors emanating from some of the salinas were the basis for their project. The students highlighted that they wanted to have scientific proof that the salinas were in fact polluted along some sections even though they contain a thriving population of fish and other organisms which provide food for many of the birds using the salinas as a habitat.

Dumping in Red Salina

Flamingos feed at Town Pond Salina

The department would like to express its appreciation to the following students from the H.J. Robinson High School and their teacher Ms. Cordelia Creese for their hard work and research: Chibuchim Otunye (Team Captain), Christenne Lyons, Andrew Monize, Michael Adams, Khambreal Garland, Ruben Altidor, Rusheena Bryan, Keibren Robinson, Trenisha Smith and Kenlove Taus.
In the words of John F. Kennedy, “Children are the world’s most valuable resource and its best hope for the future” and so we encourage members of the general public to acknowledge these students if you should come across them, for a job well done. Remember: you are never too young to make a difference!

For additional details and a complete list of all the protected areas across the TCI please visit our website www.environment.tc
and www.ukotcf.org/PDF/fNews/33.pdf

Story & Photos By R. Graham Reynolds & Matthew L. Niemiller

The Turks & Caicos have a very special group of animals that are native to the Islands—the reptile “belongers.” From the regal Rock Iguana to the radiant Rainbow Boa, the ten species of native terrestrial reptiles play a major role in the local ecosystem and add an aesthetic interest to the Islands justifiably known as “Beautiful by Nature.” However, the reptilian fauna of the TCI has recently grown, nearly doubling to a total of 17 species! What is causing such a rapid increase in the numbers of snakes and lizards that share the Islands?

Unfortunately, this diversity explosion is due to the arrival of species that are not native to the TCI, known as alien or non-native species. Alien species are plants and animals that are moved beyond their native range by either direct or indirect human activities. Many of these organisms cannot survive in the new area, and hence may persist for a while but never become established. These are referred to as “non-native species.” Other organisms might find the new area to be very much to their liking, and they establish themselves and begin to proliferate, earning the epithet “introduced species.” In the unfortunate event that the new arrivals begin to impact native wildlife populations, they are called “invasive species,” and must be controlled to prevent the destruction of local ecological communities.
Over the last few decades or so, researchers have been keeping track of new species showing up in the TCI and monitoring them to determine if they pose a threat to native wildlife. Some of these organisms arrive accidently in shipments, while others are probably intentionally introduced or are escaped pets. Yes, even feral cats and potcakes represent invasive species, and they have had terrible effects on local species such as rock iguanas. Indeed, rock iguanas have been driven from most of the major islands in the TCI by cats and dogs, who like to eat their young and dig up their burrows. Other escaped pets are less harmful, such as a single Savannah Monitor Lizard, a plant-eating reptile native to Africa and a popular pet that once roamed Leeward for several years.
So far, researchers have identified seven introduced reptile species in the TCI, a number that continues to increase. These animals do not appear to pose an immediate threat to wildlife, but they are being closely watched in case they move from introduced species to invasive species. I will introduce you to each one, so that perhaps you may report sightings or species that you don’t recognize to the DECR or the author.

Introduced species of reptiles in the TCI

Red-Eared Slider

Green Iguana

Corn Snake

R. Graham Reynolds is a Ph.D. candidate and herpetologist at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville, USA. See more of his work on reptile conservation and genetics at the National Environmental Centre on Providenciales, and learn more about the reptiles of the Turks & Caicos online at: https://sites.google.com/site/rgrahamreynolds/reptiles-of-the-turks-and-caicos or www.rgrahamreynolds.info and click on “Links.”

The authors are appreciative of the assistance of B. Naqqi Manco in the field, as well as the current and former personnel of the Department of Environment & Coastal Resources, especially Brian Riggs, Dr. Eric Salamanca, Wesley Clerveaux and Marlon Hibbert. We thank the Turks & Caicos National Trust for logistical support and the Turks & Caicos Islands Government for permission to work in the Islands. The senior author’s research is funded by the University of Tennessee, the San Diego Zoo, the American Museum of Natural History, the American Philosophical Society, Sigma Xi—the Scientific Research Society, the Mohamed bin Zayed Species Conservation Fund and the W.K. McClure Scholarship for the Study of World Affairs.

Story & Photos By Marsha Pardee, Marine Ecologist

This is a story about a little seed of inspiration that culminated in the spoils of an environmental travesty. This is a story about propagating that seed into a multifaceted plan to help maintain environmental integrity. This is a story about sowing those seedlings in the minds of our community and cultivating hope for a sustainable future. Ultimately, this is a story about mangroves, how they can help save us from ourselves, and how we can all do our part.

Mangroves flourish along TCI coasts

A seed of inspiration
The Adopt a Mangrove Campaign was conceived while perusing the mess made by the spoils dumped on an otherwise pristine shoal of Mangrove Cay in the Princess Alexandra National Park (PANP). Formerly, the shoal was a safe haven and nursery for thousands of marine creatures, most notably our idolized Queen Conch.
In early 2008, TCI residents and watersports enthusiasts noted heavy machinery dumping loads of spoils from the Leeward Channel dredge project into the PANP. Shortly thereafter, marketing plans were uncovered that detailed the demise of this once pristine site. Dubbed “Star Island,” the plans were to create a Dubai-style, man-made island for residences of the rich and famous. Islanders took action at this insult to their Protected Areas, filing petitions and lawsuits to stop the injustice. Eventually, the development was brought to a halt, but not before smothering a large portion of vital marine habitat.
And then the mess was left behind. Hurricanes Hannah and Ike in September 2008 further spread the spoils around while leveling the large mound. Coral remnants and rock now encase much of the perimeter, while a few plants (including the invasive Australian Pine) are tucking their roots into the sand.

Remains of spoil pile left in Mangrove Cay shoal

The idea of planting mangroves around the perimeter was conceived to secure the remaining spoils, beautify the wasteland and recreate a viable nursery area. How to achieve this goal planted the first conceptual seeds of what has now become the Adopt a Mangrove Campaign.

Propagating a concept
Since October 2009, more than 500 mangrove seeds have been collected on daily beach walks, and an inexpensive mangrove nursery was pioneered with research undertaken on various culture techniques. Test plots for planting began in March 2010 as the mangrove seedlings became more mature. By mid-May, 2010, more than 230 seedlings had been planted on Star Island, with another 100 planted along the Long Bay Canal. Another 400 seedlings are currently being grown within the nursery with daily collections continuing. But that is just the tip of our melting iceberg . . .
The Adopt a Mangrove Campaign is a conservation initiative to restore impacted areas and to reduce climate change by planting mangroves. The initial campaign launch has aided in the stabilization and beautification of the spoil island (a.k.a. Star Island) dumped on Mangrove Cay shoal and will continue as more seedlings become ready for planting. But the project is not just about planting mangroves and will act as a major campaign for Turks & Caicos Islands residents to understand and unite in reducing the effects of climate change. Most importantly, community support of this endeavor will show our governing authorities and the world that TCI citizens are serious about preserving our Protected Areas, protecting our environment and banding together to reduce climate change.
The project sponsor is the Caribbean Wildlife Foundation (CWF), a newly incorporated TCI non-profit with the mission “to preserve native species, habitats and eco-systems in the wider Caribbean region through advocacy, education, conservation, and research.” The Adopt a Mangrove Climate Change and Restoration Campaign is the first project being launched entirely under the newly formed CWF, and also the first initiative with regard to marine habitats, restoration and climate change. In part, the ideals of the campaign are to help create a self-sustaining support mechanism for marine conservation initiatives.
To date, we have also developed a website (www.merangel.net/mangroves), set up an on-line petition for preservation of our Protected Areas and vital ecosystems, written several newspaper and magazine articles on mangroves, the program and the importance of our Protected Areas, given public talks and have more plans to promote the program and project objectives. But the meat of the story lies in the basic question: Why plant mangroves?

Why plant mangroves?
The beautiful mangroves that flourish along tropical coasts are a magnificent combination of natural form and function. These important tidal ecosystems are a vital link between land and sea that provide incredible benefits. Mangroves stabilize our shorelines by consolidating sediments and forming peat, and protect those shorelines from storm surge, wakes and waves. They link with seagrasses and coral reefs through chemical, biological, physical and migratory activities. Mangroves serve as nursery grounds for juvenile marine species while also providing habitat for terrestrial species. The leaf fodder they produce becomes part of the food chain, while they also trap sediments, nutrients and filter pollutants. Finally they offer beautiful locations for boating, snorkeling, kayaking and fishing for both locals and the tourism industry.
Mangroves also offer many solutions with regard to the challenges of climate change. These multipurpose plants can buffer habitat loss and coastal degradation (including runoff impacts) as they are important filters between land and sea and help to further protect the adjacent seagrass beds and reefs. Because mangroves are natural fish nurseries, they will help minimize the decline and redistribution of fisheries that is expected. Mangroves are highly resilient to disturbances and stabilize shorelines, which will counteract the effects of sea level rise and increased storm frequency anticipated. Finally, coastal habitats like mangrove forests store 50 times more carbon in their soils per hectare than tropical forests and aid in reducing the greenhouse effect.

Sowing the seeds

Mangrove seedling staked on Star Island

As of May 15, 2010, a total of 236 mangroves were planted around the perimeter of the spoil pile known as Star Island. Although 10% were lost to erosion, success rates indicate that 95% of the seedlings survived the transplant process and are now beginning to flourish along the shoreline.
The mangroves for the project were collected along Long Bay Beach in Providenciales. The seed pods were first rooted in cups of fresh water and transferred to a simple hydroponic style system as they started to sprout their first leaves. The system pioneered was dubbed the “G & G system” for its basic components using rain gutters filled with gravel to hold the plants upright. The gutter trays were watered as needed and fertilized weekly. A floating system was also devised that further simplified nursery maintenance. Foam “noodle” floats were combined with plastic mesh to create a hammock in which the trays would rest. Each floating tray was then tied together to form a raft and anchored in a boat slip along a canal waterway.
Various research trials studied growth and survival in both fresh and salt water and acclimations in between, with differing densities and at various sizes for comparisons. Planting in different substrates is also being compared with various planting techniques. Further studies are anticipated to perfect the simplest, most efficient system.
But now an even more important objective has begun. Public awareness and education are key components in the Adopt a Mangrove Campaign. For all the right reasons (climate change adaptations, impact mitigation, runoff filtration, carbon sequestration, fisheries preservation, shoreline stabilization and protection), planting mangroves can make money (through employment opportunities) as well as make good environmental sense.
The Star Island Project is our first restoration effort, chosen to bring public awareness about an escalating problem found throughout the region. Protected Area Systems with solid legislation to back them are one way of preserving vital marine habitats. Star Island somehow slipped through the holes of National Park legislation, and for this reason we are petitioning the government of the Turks & Caicos Islands to increase the Mangrove Cay shoal’s designation to a Nature Reserve, affording it a greater level of protection. We are also petitioning the government to clarify its conforming use conditions for the Protected Areas and to include an Ecosystem Protection Order within its current legislation.

Cultivating our future
The Adopt a Mangrove Campaign is just the first step in our grassroots effort to heighten awareness and incite public participation in current environmental issues. To this end, we have coupled environmental initiatives for planting mangroves with a focus on furthering protection of our Protected Areas and other vital ecosystems.
But this is just the tip of our intentions in which TCI has the opportunity to play the star role. Countries throughout the Caribbean and worldwide are faced with similar problems, at least in the decimation and decline of mangrove populations and the need for proactive initiatives to aid the solutions. Creating self-sustaining mangrove farming will provide employment opportunities in a green industry while providing solutions to climate change and habitat degradation.
To do so, we need to:
• Further refine low-tech/low-cost nursery techniques and planting systems, followed by economic evaluations for business planning purposes.
• Undertake further market research to define potential public and private sector interests for supporting mangrove farming and afforestation efforts that also promote environmental awareness.
• Encourage governments to include mangrove restoration and/or afforestation as a requirement of development (either voluntary or enforced and/or as mitigation opportunities), and to identify the legal mechanisms of doing so.
Our intent is for the TCI to become the model for the rest of the Caribbean, and that the efforts achieved here will encourage other countries to follow suit. The ideals of the TCI Adopt a Mangrove Campaign are just the start of what we hope will result in the Caribbean Mangrove Restoration and Climate Change Mitigation Campaign. Your participation is key to making this project a success.

Investing in sustainability
At present, there are 200 small mangroves now thriving on Star Island, with another 400 seedlings in our nursery system being readied for the transplant stage. More seedlings are being collected daily to continue this growing project. We are requesting donations of US$25 per mangrove seedling to help reimburse expenses to date and further support the continuation of our work. Go to www.merangel.net/mangroves to get all the details on the easiest way to make a donation.
Once we have received your donation, we will send you an e-certificate and add your name to our list of supporters. You will also have the option of receiving our e-mail updates that will detail the annual growth and survival of our Star Island mangroves, as well as the new planting projects that we intend to undertake as the program and our mangroves grow.
For TCI residents, we are extending our adoption program to include plantings along the canal systems and other backyard wetland areas where appropriate. Private homeowners can protect and stabilize their waterside properties with mangroves and feel good about reducing their own carbon footprint.
More importantly, you will receive the satisfaction of taking part in this ecologically sound project along with the knowledge of “Why Plant Mangroves.”
And please don’t forget to sign our online petition (www.thepetitionsite.com/1/increase-protection-for-turks-and-caicos-islands-protected-areas-and-vital-ecosystems) to show the TCI government your support in making changes to further protect our Protected Areas and vital ecosystems.
Adopt a mangrove for yourself, your children, loved ones, friends and our future while giving Mother Nature a hand in retaining balance in our vital ecosystems.

Note to visitors to Star Island:
For your safety and the safety of our small mangroves, please be careful when perusing the spoil perimeter. The coral debris and rocks are not secure footing and there are small metal stakes adjacent to each mangrove that could be painful if stepped or squatted upon.

In recent decades, scientists have discovered more and more about the amazing navigational ability of marine turtles. Through satellite tracking we have recorded epic migrations of female turtles making journeys of thousands of kilometres from nesting beaches to feeding grounds. These global wanderers can regularly travel across entire oceans in the course of their fascinating lives. But what about the turtles that stay at home? As the number of turtle tracking projects increases around the world, so does our knowledge, and we are now discovering that not all turtles choose to embark on these astonishing migrations.

DECR Officer Tommy Philips releases Jerry, the adult male Hawksbill

By R. Graham Reynolds and Cory Deal

It’s a beautiful autumn evening in North Caicos, a perfect time to relax on a porch or take a walk on the beach. A warm rain begins as the sun goes down, perhaps suggesting that indoor activities would be more appropriate. But Cory and I have different plans, for the evening rain means only one thing — snakes!

We don some rain gear, headlamps and boots and head in to Kew to meet Naqqi Manco of the Department of Environment & Coastal Resources (DECR), who has graciously agreed to join us out in the forest on a rainy night. As we gear up, our activities and plans catch the attention of Kew high school student Naz Missick, who volunteers himself as a research assistant.
We can probably safely assume that most people don’t venture into the forest on a rainy night, but for us this is paradise. The forest takes on a whole new character at night, a welcoming embrace of soft shadows and quiet solitude. The rain adds to the character, summoning forth a variety of sweet and earthy scents that mingle with the salty air, providing a rich olfactory experience. Insects buzz softly as we make our way through the large trees of the tropical dry forest, one of the few remaining stands of forest in the Bahamian Archipelago and a poignant reminder of the grand mahogany forests that used to cover these islands hundreds of years ago.
We walk quietly, enjoying the majesty of the experience, scanning our headlamps slowly across the path and along old rock walls. Suddenly, a small tubular shape appears in the misty beam of my headlamp on the path ahead — could this be our quarry? I signal to the others and we gather around to identify the creature. As we lean in, a small forked tongue flickers in and out and the lights reveal it to be a Caicos Dwarf Boa, one of three species of snakes native to the Turks & Caicos, the other two being the Caicos Blindsnake and the Rainbow Boa. A full grown dwarf boa may only be 25 cm long, as they are the smallest constricting snakes in the world, and are handsome and completely harmless creatures.

Newborn Turks Island Rainbow Boa found in Providenciales

R. Graham Reynolds is a Ph.D. candidate and herpetologist at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville, USA. You may see more of his work on reptile conservation and genetics at the National Environmental Centre on Providenciales, and learn more about the reptiles of the Turks & Caicos at web.utk.edu/~rreyno16/reptilestci.htm.

Cory Deal is a high school student in Vero Beach, Florida who is completing an independent research project on the biology of baby rainbow boas.

The authors are appreciative of the assistance of B. Naqqi Manco and Naz Missick in the field, as well as the Department of Environment & Coastal Resources, especially Brian Riggs, Eric Salamanca, Wesley Clerveaux, and Marlon Hibbert. We thank the Turks & Caicos National Trust for logistical support and the Turks & Caicos Islands Government for permission to work in the Islands. The senior author’s research is funded by the University of Tennessee, the San Diego Zoo, the American Museum of Natural History, the American Philosophical Society, Sigma Xi — the Scientific Research Society, and the W.K. McClure Scholarship for the Study of World Affairs.

By B. Naqqi Manco, TCI Naturalist

Tom Hanks and I have something in common. Both of us have found ourselves “cast away” on some very tiny islands during our careers, and both of us have established solid friendships there with nonhuman friends named Wilson.

My friend Wilson is not a volleyball with a hairdo made of sticks. My Wilson is much smaller, and not nearly as athletic. I first met him on the triple-crowned pedestal of rock called East Six Hills Cay, south of South Caicos. There he was, standing in the wind on a bare bit of rock — spindly, tough, and decidedly grey. I didn’t know who he was at the time, so of course I lifted him up, closed him in my notebook, and returned to the research boat.

Close up of Euphorbia wilsonii, one of TCI's tiny plants

Wilson is not alone in the choice of small stature made for him by nature. On islands as small as the Turks & Caicos, many of our plant and animal neighbours are smaller than their relatives elsewhere. Our Turks & Caicos rock iguana is the smallest rock iguana species in the Caribbean. We have the smallest boa constrictor in the world here, and two of the smallest geckos, so tiny that their scientific name in this print, Sphaerodactylus, is about as long as they are. Our adult Caicos pines are often half the size of their Bahamian relatives, and our Buccaneer palms squat on ridge tops as four-foot-tall trees rather than those of other Caribbean islands that exceed 20 feet in height.

Our habitats are tough on plants. Poor soil, constant wind, stifling heat, overabundance of salt, and limited fresh water conspire against all of the natural processes that plants must carry out to survive. The solution that some plants choose to adapt to these punishing conditions is simply to remain extremely tiny. Less mass demands fewer resources. Put one’s energy into reproduction rather than size, and suddenly there is a wealth of energy available where it was not before. A limited demand for resources also means that a plant with such a blasé attitude toward competitive conspicuous consumption can grow where other plants would choke, desiccate, and shrivel into dusty, starved, over-salted mummies. It takes a bit of effort to see these little plants, but they are worth a look as they help explain how life is sustained on small islands at all.

Many of these tiny plants can be found in salt marshes and salinas. Our national flower, the Turks & Caicos heather Limonium bahamense, is a perfect example of one such tiny plant. Admirers may need to get close to appreciate the beauty of the flowers, but a stoop to see them will reward the patient with papery white sepals, lined up in tightly-fitting double rows, each holding a royal blue trumpet contrasted by itty-bitty yellow stamens. The plant itself is attractive, forgoing leaves altogether in favour of photosynthetic rubbery stems in a waxy blue-green sea foam colour, or occasionally mauve. A meadow of it, interspersed with salt marsh grasses, or a cluster of heathers erupting startlingly from salina mud, display a rugged, subtle beauty that represents the Turks & Caicos Islands very well.

In some of the driest salinas, the Turks & Caicos heather has a companion that clings to rocks and creeps along the mud. Similar to its cousin the sea purslane Sesuvium portulacastrum, the dwarf sea purslane Sesuvium microphyllum grows where the larger plant can not. With leaves that look like miniature clusters of ruby-tinged Champagne grapes, bursting with stored water, and pink star-shaped flowers half the size of the larger Sesuvium, this plant enjoys its status as endemic to the Turks & Caicos Islands and Cuba. It is edible, as is sea purslane, perhaps a low-cal diet option compared to the more robust species.

A short jaunt up a dune from the salinas and one can find the grey ghost of a plant that no one could be ashamed of mistaking for dead. Crooked, compact, and covered with silvery hairs, the dune heliotrope does no service to its genus of otherwise well-known flowers. Cream-coloured blossoms barely 2 millimetres across and an altogether crunchy appearance reveal the plant as Heliotropium nanum. Looking dead helps the plants survive grazing by rock iguanas, and indeed they thrive on Big Ambergris Cay where the iguanas all but ignore them in favour of fresher foliage.

The octopus plant hides from herbivores.

Another tiny rock-loving plant is unique to TCI but is also just as inconspicuous — until it flowers. The Caroline’s pink Stenandrium carolinae squats in cracks of limestone bedrock on the tops and steep sides of ridges. The leaves — tough, hairy, red-brown — form a barely-noticeable rosette that blends into the soil colour. The plant’s flowers, which appear any time of year after rains, resemble small pink violets and are quite beautiful. When not in bloom, however, it adopts the same mode of protection as the dune heliotrope, by looking dead.

While the dune heliotrope makes itself undesirable to herbivores by looking dead, and the octopus plant disguises itself as not-a-plant, the burning match plant makes itself undetectable to herbivores by looking like it’s simply not there. Wiry, hair-thin stems in dull bronze and a few linear, needle-like bronze leaves keep Pectis linifolia out of the spotlight. This plant — if you can find it amongst the grasses where it hides — bears flowers that belie its true identity as a daisy. The flower is modified to be as inconspicuous as the rest of the plant — it has no ray florets (the “petals” of a daisy) and the central disk is limited to only a few elongated blossoms barely tipped in black and yellow. This colourful tip is reminiscent of a smouldering match head, hence the common name of the plant. Its seeds are two-pronged stickers, able to travel on animal skin or clothing, but wherever their travels take them they strive to remain cryptic and invisible.

One of my favourite diminutive plants is one that does stand in the spotlight, unlike the burning match plant. It stands right up in the biggest spotlight of all, the sun. On the harsh high windward dunes of a few islands in the Turks & Caicos, there lives a plant that survives by making itself into a sun-and-wind-pounded rock.

Bahamas buttonbush, Borreria bahamensis

And where else can one get to know my friend Wilson, if East Six Hills Cay is not on your island agenda? I have indeed met Wilson again on several other islands. He frequents East Caicos, West Caicos, South Caicos, and Salt Cay, but is strangely absent from Grand Turk, Providenciales, and North and Middle Caicos (his worldwide range is restricted to several other islands in the southern Bahamas). Knowing that Little Ambergris Cay had plenty of his preferred habitat — weathered rock slopes with no soil, where little else can grow — I made a point to seek him out when I visited the islet in May 2009. I scanned the ground for any sign of my wiry little friend, but found nothing. The mid-afternoon sun was at its highest as I arrived at the old coconut and date grove on Little Ambergris Cay, now comprising only three stunted palms, and I sat myself down on a slope of soft, dry sand in the shade of the only upright coconut palm.

As I put my hand down on the sand, I realised I was not there alone. Sharing my shade was a diminutive plant . . . sprawling, compact, definitely grey. I stooped over, brought my nose within inches of the ground, and scrutinised this familiar but strange looking little fellow. His stems were short, his branches were tight. He did not stand, but rather lay down on the ground, prostrate and supine, his middle twisted into a compact lump, his leaves hugged tightly almost under the stems. He was quite obviously cowering, terrified of something. The scattered tracks of passing iguanas explained his fearful posture — he had been grazed to within an inch of his life — and an inch of life was more than he could afford to spare.

Upon further searching I located several other Wilsons nearby, all likewise cowering as much as possible, hiding under themselves on the bare sandy slope. In a precocious fit of gumption, I slyly lifted one of Wilson’s branches and noted a few of the familiar black and yellow diminutive flowers and even two tiny fruit. I stood up and dusted myself off to continue on with my trek, satisfied in knowing that Wilson, or at least his little Wilsons, will be there to befriend me on Little Ambergris Cay the next time I am cast away there.

Epilogue: Wilson may survive on the remotest sea-sprayed cays (I visited him again on Little Ambergris Cay in March 2010), but he hasn’t survived the rigours of botanical nomenclature. Euphorbia wilsonii was considered to be similar enough to the pinweed spurge Euphorbia lecheoides to be combined with this species. Plant scientific names always favour the older name, so Wilson (1909) lost to lecheoides (1906, resembling Lechea plants). Tom Hanks may have lost his Wilson in the movie, but my Wilson will always be Wilson to me.