Chasing Coral: beauty and destruction

Posted on behalf of Jeff Tollefson

Images shot by the Chasing Coral crew graphically show the progress of the coral bleaching event in xx over xx days.

Images shot by the Chasing Coral crew graphically show the progress of the coral bleaching event that began in 2014.{credit}Chasing Coral, courtesy of Netflix{/credit}

First we take the plunge, off the boat and into the blue. Once the bubbles clear, wonders emerge. Guided by the camera, the eye is initially drawn to the obvious: turtles, rays, eels, jellies, fish. But the star of this show is a different kind of animal. The focus shifts, and we see a variety of fabulously intricate and colourful structures, some branched like trees, others spiny and globular. Each edifice in this marine metropolis was erected by corals — master builders now under unprecedented threat.

Director Jeff Orlowski begins his latest documentary, Chasing Coral, with this view of living abundance. Soon enough, we see death. Images of reefs left white and mostly lifeless give way to apocalyptic footage of dead corals, covered in algae and disintegrating in murky waters. Orlowski’s film, which launched on Netflix on 14 July, reveals the shocking reality of the global bleaching event that began in 2014, spurred by human-driven climate change and only now coming to an end.

Jeff Orlowski filming corals on the Great Barrier Reef, Australia.

Jeff Orlowski filming corals on the Great Barrier Reef, Australia.{credit}Richard Vevers/Chasing Coral, courtesy of Netflix{/credit}

There are similarities between Chasing Coral and Chasing Ice, Orlowski’s 2012 documentary about melting glaciers, right down to the focus on time-lapse imagery to capture environmental degradation. But where Chasing Ice centres on James Balog, a National Geographic photographer who set up the Extreme Ice Survey to document ice shrinkage, Chasing Coral features, along with leading coral researchers, a curious collection of characters who embark on a technically daunting effort to document the transition from life to illness and death on a coral reef. The result is a fast-paced narrative arc that manages to carry a full-length film about global warming, the ultimate slow-boil.

Orlowski doesn’t hide anything. In fact, he becomes part of his own narrative through that of Richard Vevers, the man driving the project. A former advertising executive turned ocean activist and underwater photographer, Vevers relates how in 2010,  he decided to put his talents to better use: saving corals. After seeing Chasing Ice in 2013, he decided to contact Orlowski, who – in an intriguing meta-moment – makes an appearance in the film to talk about the genesis of the project.

A panoramic view of fluorescing and bleaching corals in New Caledonia in the southwest Pacific, in March 2016.

A panoramic view of fluorescing and bleaching corals in New Caledonia in the southwest Pacific, in March 2016.{credit}The Ocean Agency/XL Catlin Seaview Survey{/credit}

To its credit, Chasing Coral goes beyond personalities and crises and gets into the science – as well as the challenge of communicating that science and raising public awareness. “One of the biggest issues with the ocean is that it is completely ‘out of sight, out of mind’,” Vevers says. “And that is an advertising issue.”

The first step the crew faced was acquiring a high-quality camera capable of operating underwater remotely for weeks at a time. Enter View into the Blue, a company based in Boulder, Colorado, that adapted a high-resolution underwater camera – with its own wiper system to keep the domed-glass housing case clean –  for the project. Step two: figure out where to deploy the camera. Glaciers are easy to identify and visit, and nearly all of them are melting now. But setting up a time-lapse camera to capture the death of a coral reef due to warm ocean currents requires considerable planning and a measure of serendipity.

Mark Eakin, who heads the US National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s Coral Reef Watch, provided forecasts and guidance on where to deploy. Vevers and the team figured out how to power the camera and retrieve data, but an initial deployment in Hawaii failed: the cameras lost their focus after the first shot. A second try on the southern Great Barrier Reef off Queensland, Australia, saw the warm waters (fortunately) failing to arrive.

A reef decimated by warm-water currents.

A bleached reef.{credit}Chasing Coral, courtesy of Netflix{/credit}

So the team ditched the automation altogether and moved north to Lizard Island, and on to New Caledonia. Here, they manually photographed dozens of sites each day for 40 days. It worked. At one location after another, we see a rapid decline from vibrant colour and biodiversity to whitening and death. At this point the film switches to the emotional journey of ‘coral nerd’ Zachary Rago. “I’m not even sad that we are leaving, because it’s so miserable here,” Rago says when the job is complete.

Basic science is interwoven throughout. Through coral researchers such as Ruth Gates and Ove Hoegh-Guldberg, we learn about the fascinating lives of corals, which operate as a collective to build and maintain an ecosystem that supports thousands of animals, from clown fish to sharks. We hear about the symbiotic relationship corals have developed with the algae living inside them, which provide their hosts with colour and energy through photosynthesis. And we see what happens when temperatures rise: the algae shut down and corals kick them out.

Chasing Coral also brings home the implications of decades of research. This latest global bleaching event, bolstered by a powerful El Niño in 2015-2016, is the third in recorded history; the first was in 1998. Research suggests that most of the world’s corals could perish within a few decades from rising temperature and ocean acidification without immediate action to halt greenhouse gas emissions.

The film mostly glosses over the scientific endeavour itself, however. After all, Vevers is the executive director of the XL Catlin Seaview Survey, a bonafide research initiative that launched in 2012 to catalogue the world’s corals (as Nature has reported here and here). But it’s a minor point. In the end, the film accomplishes its goals. Nobody knows precisely what an ecological collapse would mean for the oceans, but Chasing Coral makes it abundantly clear that it won’t be pretty. And perhaps that’s enough to inspire action.

Jeff Tollefson is a reporter for Nature based in New York. He tweets at @jefftollef. 

 

For Nature’s full coverage of science in culture, visit www.nature.com/news/booksandarts.

A reef dive at London’s Natural History Museum

Posted on behalf of Marian Turner

Aquarium at London's Natural History Museum, housing a coral reef.

The coral reef in an aquarium at London’s Natural History Museum.{credit}Natural History Museum, London{/credit}

Covering less than 1% of the ocean’s floor, coral reefs house around 25% of the ocean’s biodiversity. This diversity, and the ‘services’ reefs provide, are celebrated in the Natural History Museum of London’s exhibition Coral Reefs: Secret Cities of the Sea, which opened on 27 March.

The NHM’s collection contains some 100,000 reef specimens dating back to Captain James Cook’s explorations of the Pacific in the eighteenth century. Around 200 are on display, ranging from a spectacular Turbinaria coral that fans out a metre wide to a pickled cuttlefish and a taxidermied giant grouper.

The start of the exhibition is surprisingly sombre. The coral skeletons on display lack the stunning colours of live corals, which come from their symbiotic photosynthetic algae. But these pale scaffoldings also reveal the stark beauty and magnificent diversity of coral forms and clarify their amusing common names: the potato chip, birdsnest and brain corals sit alongside their staghorn, bladed fire and organ pipe cousins.

The exhibition is littered with interconnecting plywood hexagons, mimicking the basic unit of a coral polyp. Displays describe how reefs are home to a vast array of organisms, support the livelihoods of some 500 million people through fisheries and tourism, and provide coastal defences and pharmaceutical lead compounds.

Large-sea-fan,-Gorgonia-sp-©-NHM,-LondonLOWRES

Large Gorgonian sea fan coral skeleton.

A “virtual dive”, with 180° panels and a joystick, lets viewers drift through panoramas from several reefs such as around Heron Island in the Great Barrier Reef, zooming in to see individual animals and out to get a sense of the whole. The images come from the Catlin Seaview Survey, a project sponsored by insurance company (and exhibition partner) Catlin Group Limited that aims to provide a visual snapshot of the world’s reefs. The survey team, which has partnered with marine biologists from the University of Queensland and Google to make the images public, hopes the records will be used to monitor change from coral loss to species invasion, and to help in choosing sites to study in more detail. “We need this baseline to understand the vulnerability of reefs and make management decisions,” says project chief scientist Ove Hoegh-Guldberg.

Around half of the world’s reefs have already been lost to human-driven damage, from agricultural runoff to the coral souvenir trade. Climate change is also upsetting the delicate relationships between corals, their algae and other reef denizens. The exhibition touches on these issues, but without the sense of urgency that Hoegh-Guldberg conveys.

The need for action on protecting coral reefs was driven home at the end of the exhibition when I came face to face with a living reef. Darting fish caught my eye first, then the waving fronds of the corals and anemones. As I got closer, almost everything appeared to be moving.

Taxidermied giant grouper (Epinephelus lanceolatus)

Taxidermied giant grouper (Epinephelus lanceolatus){credit}Natural History Museum, London{/credit}

The 4-tonne aquarium was created in collaboration with London’s Horniman Museum, whose holdings range across natural history and anthropology. Their Project Coral team are attempting to mimic the just-right combination of environmental cues under which corals spawn, in the hope of testing how changing oceans might affect coral reproduction.

The aquarium, complete with some ‘little Nemo’ clownfish, is sure to be a crowd pleaser. I hope it will raise the alarm that it is up to us to prevent more of these glorious landscapes of colour and activity from ending up as ghostly museum displays.

Coral Reefs: Secret Cities of the Sea runs at London’s Natural History Museum through 13 September.

 

For Nature’s full coverage of science in culture, visit www.nature.com/news/booksandarts.