Can TCI’s native species still be saved?

By Ben Stubenberg

As the first rays of a golden sun peak above the pale blue sea and peer through cotton ball clouds, the island jitneys drop off construction crews at building sites all around Providenciales. In the cool morning air, before the heat of the day sets in, the bossman sticks pegs in the dirt to mark out the area for removing brush and leveling the land for the next big building. When done, a driver climbs into the seat of a Caterpillar D8 bulldozer, presses a button to start the engine, and lowers the blade to an inch above the rocky terrain. He puts the dozer in gear and scrapes away all the trees and plants corner to corner.

It doesn’t take much for the 40 ton dozer to tear down even the most stubborn tree. The brush is shoved into a giant heap and loaded into a hefty truck that hauls it away to the dump where it is mixed with island trash.

The driver then readies the dozer to make a second go over the site. This time he drops the blade an inch or two into the ground and pushes the top layer of the sandy soil into another pile until the site is flat and smooth and utterly devoid of life. Now construction can begin.

What do we lose?

These trees and plants are rooted deeply in island history from when the Tainos first settled here around 700 A.D. through to present times. The flora adapted well to the arid conditions of the low-lying Lucayan Archipelago and created a remarkably rich ecology over thousands of years. Today, none of that matters.

Much of the brush cleared from a building site might be common and fast growing. But mixed in are threatened or endangered species that make up the essence of TCI’s natural and national heritage. The pile of cleared brush might contain lignum vitae (Guaiacum sanctum), West Indian mahogany (Swietenia mahagoni), various types of thatch palm (Coccothrinax inaguensis), Caicos encyclia rufa orchids (Encyclia caicensis), and Turks Head cactus (Melocactus deinacanthus). A host of medicinal plants like agave, yucca, and aloe may also be swept away by the dozer’s blade.

Eight rare plants in Turks & Caicos grow nowhere else in the world. One is the Turks & Caicos heather, TCI’s national flower, also known as Limonium bahamense. It thrives on the edges of salt flats in harsh saline conditions that few other plants on the planet can do. In fact, the tiny purple flowers poking through a white sheath are elusive even here and restricted to just a few islands. This plant is listed as “threatened” by the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES).

Notable among the trees scattered in dry forests is the lignum vitae that produces a wood so dense and heavy that it sinks rather than floats in the water. That special quality made it durable enough to make things as diverse as police billy clubs, bearings, and steamship propeller shafts in the 1800s. The lignum vitae once flourished, but the enormous demand for this wood spurred European settlers to chop down as many trees as they could on nearby islands.

The population of the lignum vitae may have been less vulnerable to logging in TCI due to a lag in development compared to other islands until recently. But these Islands were not spared the logger’s ax either, according to visittci.com. Still, the hardy trees remaining managed to endure, even in the face of ferocious hurricanes and long periods of drought, as well as periodic floods. They stood their ground, grew stronger, and lived for 100, 200, or even 300 years.

TCI’s older lignum vitae would have witnessed the arrival of the first enslaved people brought to these shores by Loyalist planters in the 1790s. For them, the long branches dense with green and yellow foliage became a welcome sight and respite, inviting each new generation of Islanders to sit in the shade and to pick its dark blue flowers in the spring when they bloomed. Locals back in the day used the bark as a bush medicine to help relieve everything from rheumatism to toothaches. This special quality also gave lignum vitae the nickname “Tree of Life.”*

The scrubby brush on building sites slated for clearing also serves as a habitat for dozens of native and migratory species of birds. These include the Antillean nighthawk (Chordeiles gundlachii), songbirds like the thick-billed vireo (Vireo crassirostris), and Bahama mockingbird (Mimus gundlachii). The clearing of building sites can also threaten the viability of nearby shallow inter-tidal wetlands where many birds feed and breed. Among those affected in these wetlands are the reddish egret (Egretta rufescens) and piping plover (Charadrius melodus). Sea birds that nest along the ironshore, such as the Red-billed tropic bird (Phaethon aethereus), have also seen their habitats threatened due to development.

The full impact of habitat destruction on birds is not well known, except that numbers appear to be falling on Providenciales (Provo) and other parts of the Caribbean as the green space shrinks. Indeed, it is well within the realm of possibility that the degradation and reduction of habitat may lead to a tipping point that triggers the sudden collapse of certain bird populations.

What drives destruction?

For too many developers today, the native flora that grew for centuries on building sites is in the way. So is the fauna that inhabited the once dense brush. With land prices as high as they are on Provo, each square foot matters.

It is really a simple calculation: Space for a new pool sells better than space for an old tree. Moreover, construction budgets almost never include landscaping prior to construction. To generate the expected profit for investors, the trees and plants on the property must be removed regardless of the consequences.

That’s when the big yellow dozer is called in. And the venerable trees and orchids and other native plants that once dotted and defined Provo’s landscape for centuries are gone before lunch break. Whatever stories told, whatever laughter shared, whatever comfort felt beneath the branches and among the flowers vanishes. Gone too are the songs and calls of birds, replaced by a wrenching silence that quietly tells its own story of something vibrant forever lost.

In their stead rumbling backhoes dig deep trenches to fill with concrete that lay the foundation to support story after story of thick floors and walls injected with ever more concrete. The higher the building, the more clearing is required for huge cranes and other construction equipment to operate.

Once built, the tall new buildings will blot out the horizon and, in the course of the day, cast long shadows over the land below. In time, they will decay and crumble and leave behind eyesores for another generation to deal with. A painful irony is not lost: The big, beautiful trees that once graced the land would have long outlived those high-rises that now rule.

Is there hope?

Yes, there is hope, but hope is shrinking fast. The current trend strongly favors rampant construction over biodiversity protection. No one can pretend otherwise. Still, there are pockets pushing back.

In 2010, a band of ardent TCI residents formed the Turks & Caicos Environmental Club (TCEC), an informal association to advocate for preserving native species. Making the case for environmental protection when developers have tens of millions of dollars on the line recalls a David versus Goliath struggle, except without a sling for David. Nonetheless, an awareness has taken hold. A handful of architects, developers, contractors, and landscapers have tried to find work-around alternatives to spare some of the native trees and plants from removal.

Planning usually begins with architects and landscapers designing ways to balance construction with retention of green space and factor in the extra cost. COAST Architects, James Hamilton Architects, and SWA, are among the more prominent architects taking on this challenge.

The preferred option when working with developers is to leave some native species in place. If that is not possible, which is more often the case, landscapers dig up the flora tagged for conservation and keep them alive until they can be replanted around the new structures.

The landscapers typically set up a nursery on the building site and continually water the trees and plants for 6 to 12 months until enough construction is completed. But removing trees and later replanting them puts the flora under enormous stress. The survival rate can (on rare occasion) be as high as 85%. But more often it is less than half and sometimes zero if they all die. It depends on the experience of the landscapers, some luck, and the species selected. The effort to keep just one tree alive may cost hundreds if not thousands of dollars without any guarantee of surviving.

Notwithstanding the added costs and uncertainties, architect Simon Nicholls, co-founder of COAST Architects, makes it a point to persuade prospective clients by emphasizing the benefits of retaining local flora for the bottom line and for the community. Nicholls explains, “When we preserve our native flora, we help safeguard TCI’s identity. We all lose if TCI loses its identity.”

While Simon can claim notable successes, it’s still a hard sell to developers. Much of the time, ethical considerations get lip service, but return on investment (ROI) almost always trumps. However, the perception that high density projects yield a greater ROI than low density projects has come under sharp challenge—if not debunked altogether.

What’s the alternative?

The perceived need to clear the land of native species to make way for profitable developments is a false choice. At least one study indicates that low density resorts built on more acreage are likely to be more profitable while significantly reducing environmental damage and overall costs to society.

In 2014, TCI environmentalist Kathleen McNary wrote a Harvard University graduate term paper that compared the three-star, high-density, twelve-story Romanza Condominium and Hotel Project with a low-density, five-star resort on Providenciales. Her study showed that the high-density model would generate more revenue. But only because more rooms would be sold compared to the low density model.

However, the low density resort units produced a much higher profit margin per unit and thus a better ROI—even though the low-density units cost more to build per square foot. Kathleen’s study indicates that TCI can have it both ways by marketing to high-end tourist clientele willing to pay more for low-density accommodations and preserve more of the local biodiversity.

The study also found that the low density projects created less runoff and other polluting factors that in turn minimized damage to the reefs. Lower-density construction also required far fewer skilled and unskilled workers to be brought to TCI compared to high-density projects. And that in turn meant spending less for government services like health care, education, policing, and road construction and maintenance. In short, whatever additional revenue that high-density models might generate for government coffers through size alone are offset by added cost to TCI society and ecosystem.

What have some resorts done?

Early in Provo’s tourism development phase, resorts generally adhered to the principle and regulations at the time of low density buildings and, in most cases, leaving space for native species. These included Amanyara, Ambergris Cay (Turks & Caicos Collection), and Club Med when they began construction in the 1980s and 1990s. Retaining the natural island environment enhanced the “zen” of the resort and surroundings for guests and owners.

Parrot Cay (COMO) also embraced the preservation ethos and established its own extensive nursery to grow native trees and plants with the intention of repopulating the small island with the flora it once had. Other resorts such as those in the Hartling Group and Beaches Turks & Caicos incorporated preservation measures on their properties as well.

Over the past 20 years, however, Provo has seen dramatic changes to its scenery and ambiance, as new regulations and the government’s Planning Department have allowed resorts to build as high as 12 stories that match the skyrocketing value of land.

A few newer resorts like Rock House (Grace Bay Resorts) have opted for a low density approach that preserved native species. COAST Architects designed the one-story villas tucked into the dramatic cliffside. Nature’s Vision landscaping removed some 4,000 trees and plants and put them aside in a nursery on the building site. Fortunately, most of the flora survived and was replanted around the property when the first phase of construction was completed in 2022.

Projetech, the prime contractor for Rock House, worked with the rocky terrain to carve out steps in the limestone to reduce excavation and pour less concrete.Projetech also built roads around some of the old trees, including lignum vitae, so they could remain in place. At the same time, Rock House created a nature trail through an untouched plot abutting the resort that was already a habitat for native species of trees, plants, birds, and butterflies.

What happens when non-native species are imported?

Other resorts and villas may keep a few native species on the property if there is room. However, they often import many non-native trees and plants to give the resort a more “tropical” look. These include the coconut palm (Cocos nucifera) and bougainvillea. Non-native trees and bushes, however, can outcompete native species and may require up to ten times more water than local flora to stay alive. That, of course, creates a greater demand for water on an already dry island.

The non-native trees and plants often need pesticides to ward off disease and stay healthy in what is a foreign environment for them. In the course of planning for the planting of these non-native species, developers will sometimes “contract grow” them for up to three years abroad, usually in Florida, until imported into TCI when construction is complete. All such imports must have a phytosanitary certification. While the certification helps to mitigate the introduction of destructive invasive species, including insects, it does not eliminate the risk to native trees and plants.

In recent years, local farms and nurseries have begun growing the non-native trees and plants to supply the high demand through local sourcing rather than importing. While the non-native tropical foliage can add an appealing and colorful variety, they ultimately consume more resources to grow and create an alien feel for the Islands.

Who do we want to be?

The planting of foreign foliage instead of nurturing the growth of native species inevitably prompts provocative questions: Why does TCI, more pointedly Provo, have to look like so many other tropical resorts in the Caribbean and even parts of the Pacific? Should TCI cater to a fantasy of what a beach vacation destination should look like (for some, though not all, tourists)? Especially since a handful of high-end, low-density resorts prove that TCI can thrive as a destination that proudly highlights its own unique and attractive species of trees and plants.

These questions tug at the heart of TCI’s “Beautiful by Nature” tagline and brand nurtured over decades—a brand that has aimed to be the destination of choice for discerning holiday visitors who gladly pay a premium for exquisite natural beauty uncluttered by high-rises. When a destination loses its special allure and starts to look like everywhere else, well-off visitors invariably move on, as tourism life-cycle studies have shown.**

Empirical evidence and a few exemplary developments confirm that TCI can chart a course that allows for profit as well as preservation. That alone should be enough.

But for lasting change, maybe another question needs to be asked. One that reaches deeper into the soul and provokes profound introspection: On our human journey as stewards of these Islands, what will be our legacy? Will we be the generation that allowed big developers to scorch the earth and pave over Provo even if they left a few token trees and plants as heartbreaking reminders of a faded heritage?

Or can we be the generation that reimagined what TCI should be and salvaged what we could before it was too late? The ones who required every new construction project to leave large green spaces all around the property, not just to protect but to expand native species. The ones who ensured that no bulldozer ever stripped a building site clean of life again.

One thing is for sure, future generations will not look kindly on the generation that sold out and wiped away the remaining lignum vitae, West Indian mahogany, Turks & Caicos heather, Caicos encyclia rufa orchids, native and migratory birds, and so much more. 

Because once gone, it doesn’t come back.

Ben Stubenberg is a regular contributor to Times of the Islands and author of a new book, The Jamaican Bobsled Captain: Dudley “Tal” Stokes and the untold story of struggle, suffering and redemption behind Cool Runnings. He can be contacted at benstubenberg.com that also features his past articles in this magazine as well as insightful commentary on Island trends.

For more information on the TCI Environmental Club, visit Facebook TCI Environmental Club (FB Group): https://www.facebook.com/share/g/1G82gVmdtL/?mibextid=wwXIfr or Instagram: @enviroclubtc or Email: in**@**********tc.org.