An Island Paradise

Imagine a private island in the Caribbean, uninhabited save for the dozen bungalows of a high-end resort. A tropical breeze rustles the trees, the aqua waters surrounding the island sparkle in the sun.

Joel “Jody” Martin and Todd Zimmerman survey the scene, armed with a bottle of 151-proof Cruzan rum.

But the two biologists from the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County won’t be sipping daiquiris by the beach.

Instead, they are spending a summer month on Guana Island combing its shallow waters for new species of cryptofauna--the “hidden animals” of the coral reefs. They use cement and PVC pipe to create an artificial reef to lure creatures for study; the rum to preserve them.

These days the word “species” is likely to be paired with “endangered,” or even “extinct.” But of the hundreds of species Martin and Zimmerman have collected in the last couple of years--they are now on their third trip to Guana--they estimate that one-third are new discoveries.

Scientists are in a race against time to catalog new species before they disappear, says Martin, the museum’s curator of crustacea. “This is not the time to ignore natural history.”

Unfortunately, ignoring it seems to be a trend in science. As research dollars and training are focused on molecular biology research like mapping the genome, whole-animal biology is falling by the wayside. “We’re losing the -ologists,” laments Martin.

This loss could be detrimental to our understanding of biodiversity. Preservation is all the rage these days, but trying to understand an ecosystem without knowing the individual animals that make it up is like building a house without a foundation, Martin says.

The foundation of the research these beachcombers conduct is the reef. But because they couldn’t very well haul up the natural coral reef system to find the animals hidden within its crevices, the two created a fake one that could be lowered to the ocean floor and later recovered. They call the fake reefs ARMS, for Artificial Reef Matrix Systems.

Martin says that when he saw Zimmerman pouring cement in the tropics, he thought his colleague had gone crazy. But Zimmerman’s design of these miniature fake reefs has been the key to their success. The fake reefs consist of slabs of concrete, stacked one upon another, with various sizes of tunnels to entice crawling critters inside.

Zimmerman was looking for a material with a surface enough like coral to fool the animals into moving in, and cement fit the bill. Underwater, the ARM acts as a Sheraton for shrimp for a year before it is hauled up to the surface in a nylon bag.

Because most animals flee by burrowing down when the reefs are collected, the scientists place each ARM on top of a basket made of PVC pipe and wire mesh to catch escapees.

In addition to the ARMS, the team uses light traps and a device called a yabby. Australian for crawfish, a yabby is similar to a huge plastic syringe that sucks up delicate animals without damaging them. Light traps, meanwhile, collect nocturnal creatures that are drawn to the light.

Because imported laboratory-grade alcohol would have been far too expensive to preserve all the creatures the two harvest, the scientists turned to the rum. It’s cheap, locally available and, at over 75% pure, it works.

Although it is unusually pristine, Guana Island is hardly remote. Part of the British Virgin Islands, it is one of many Caribbean islands that serve as a draw for vacationers and divers. New species can be found even in the world’s most well-traveled spots, the scientists note.

Martin and Zimmerman share an unusual fascination with crabs--an interest that both men developed during the idle hours of childhood.

Like many kids of the 1950s, Martin and his brother spent long afternoons building models of World War II tanks and then blowing them up. The tank-like architecture of the crab is what first attracted him to the species, he says.

Zimmerman spent his childhood summers chasing an elusive crab called the Sally Lightfoot and has since become the world’s expert on catching them. (If Ohio’s rivers and creeks had been populated with salamanders, he muses, he might well be studying those now instead.)

Once, scientists relied on their field observations to identify different species, examining the creatures’ color, shape and anatomy to tell one from another. But DNA analysis has changed that. Now two animals that might look identical can be identified as separate species by their DNA.

Once the museum scientists have cataloged the marine worms, crabs and shrimps, they bottle them and send them to molecular biologists who can examine their DNA.

Early naturalists like Charles Darwin rarely returned to the same spot. Martin and Zimmerman, however, have returned to the same areas on Guana Island each year. The scientists are limited to the areas they can reach on foot or by the small boats they occasionally have access to. By examining a specific area with a fine-toothed comb approach, they have seen slight fluctuations in the area’s animal population from year to year, perhaps caused by small differences in temperature.

The scientists did not choose Guana Island just for the unspoiled habitat. The Jarecki family, owners of the island, partly fund the research project by housing the research team in their island resort. Each July, during the Caribbean off-season, the island becomes home to a handful of lucky biologists for “marine science month.”

Guests--along with visiting dignitaries, students and other islanders--are treated to a guided tour of the scientists’ “lab,” a converted bungalow where animals are held in a seawater shower and examined under dining-tabletop microscopes.

The educational reaches of the project go beyond the tour. Students come to Guana from H. Lavity Stoutt Community College on nearby Tortola to learn about their local habitat and assist in field collections.

The research team has found that the islanders know astonishingly little about life below the surface of the ocean. Very few of the British Virgin Island natives can even swim. Zimmerman and Martin hope that by increasing awareness among islanders, they might improve the chances for preservation.

To aid in that endeavor, Martin and Zimmerman have created a compact disc to display the extensive catalog of animals. Zimmerman has taken thousands of color photographs for the CD, which will be more affordable than a book. They hope islanders will benefit from it along with scientists and educators around the world.

Perhaps the British Virgin Islands will explore the benefits of ecotourism rather than big-resort development, Martin says. He cites Costa Rica as a “shining star of an example” of a government that realized early on that it could make as much money showing off its country’s natural habitat as it could by extensive agriculture or development.

As beautiful as the surroundings are, the work is no day at the beach. “It’s unbelievable how long a day can be in the tropics,” says Zimmerman. The scientists begin collecting at dawn and then catalog and photograph the animals late into the night.

But the rewards of discovery more than make up for the hard work, Martin says.

When you hold an animal in your hand and realize that you have found a new species, that you have contributed to the world’s collective knowledge, “it’s such a buzz. The real fringe benefit is doing what you love.”