ELSEWHERE IN THE PHILIPPINES I have been daz-
zled by jewel boxes of coral splendor. This region
of the Indo-Pacific, known as the Coral Triangle,
is the planet’s richest trove of marine diversity.
More than 500 species of coral are found
here—three-quarters of all those known. The
reefs they have built would cover an area the size
of Ireland. The creatures that live in these sub-
marine cities are beyond counting. The Philip-
pines, the apex of the Coral Triangle, has nearly
1,800 species of reef fish.
Yet this coral graveyard I’m exploring has only
refugees. I see a fish called a cleaner wrasse and
feel a pang of sorrow. Its role in the reef ecosys-
tem is to clean other fish, nibbling parasites and
other marine hitchhikers from their bodies. But
this cleaner has no one to clean. It swims in des-
olate solitude.
The corals around it lie toppled like trees after
a hurricane. Among the dead stumps something
flashes in the sunlight, and I pick up the bottom
of a shattered glass bottle. I have seen bottles like
this filled with nitrate fertilizer and topped with
a detonator and fuse. Light the fuse, then throw
the bottle into the sea. The blast stuns fish orBrown boobies perch
on coral near Bird Islet,
a rookery in Tubbataha,
which is home to more
than a hundred seabird
species. This critical
habitat—the prime
breeding ground for
brown boobies in the
Philippines—is shrinking
as climate change
causes the seas to rise.
I AM CROSSING A DESERT,
BUT NOT ONE MADE OF SAND.
I AM SWIMMING THROUGH
A WASTELAND OF RUBBLE,
THE PULVERIZED REMAINS
OF A CORAL REEF.
ITS BARRENNESS STARTLES ME.
AN UNDERSEA SPLENDOR, UNDER STRESS 77