Ulong Channel and Blue Hole, 11-20

Sadly, most of my PICRC friends are leaving in the next few days and weeks. Last week, the PICRC staff took them out for a celebratory dive outing to Palau's most famous sites. Not yet having earned the trip, I had resigned myself to a quiet day alone in the office, but at the last minute, Yim, the CEO, remembered a previously scheduled meeting, and I was invited to take his place. They didn't have to ask me twice! It was a gorgeous day of diving and snorkeling, with a picnic lunch and a scenic tour of the Rock Islands. Here are some shots from Ulong Channel and Blue Hole, and pictures of Jellyfish Lake are forthcoming. 

Happy Thanksgiving!

The owner of Kramer's, one of the local bars, hosts a Thanksgiving potluck each year. He cooks up a ton of turkey and mashed potatoes, and everyone else brings a dish to share. Families and friends filled the bar to the brim, feasting on traditional favorites and newer additions like stuffed naan and spaghetti. It was wonderful to have such a friendly, communal, and warm (in all senses of the word) atmosphere for my first tropical Thanksgiving. 

Clockwise from left, Danika (UBC PhD student working at PICRC), Adam (Danika's partner), Chris, Tess (working with The Nature Conservancy), me, Johanna, and Katherine. 

Blue Corner, 11-17

Following a less-successful snapper dive, Richard took us to Blue Corner, arguably Palau's most famous dive site. Strong currents there attract tons of sharks, big schools of barracuda, and huge Napoleon wrasse. Since the current moves so quickly, dive groups use "reef hooks" to anchor to dead coral near the drop off and watch the sharks cruise by. I was skeptical, but after I hooked in and inflated my BCD slightly, water audibly rushing past my face, I felt like I was flying. Afterward, we stopped by German Channel, and were rewarded for braving the dark and murk by the occasional materialization of a silent, stately manta.

Divers hooked into the reef at Blue Corner

Napoleon wrasse are a prized eating fish, used in many Palauan cultural ceremonies. Due to dwindling populations the fishery was closed in 2006, but overt poaching continues. 

A few resident Napoleons approach divers closely at Blue Corner, likely because tour guides feed them. Although it was awesome to see these huge fish up close, it doesn't bode well for their survival for them to get too used to humans.

Sunset hikes

Palau has a decent amount of topography but is severely lacking in good places to hike or even walk around. We've found one decent hill with a trail up to a cell antenna, where a dilapidated watchtower of sorts (Former gun stand? Lighthouse? Clock tower?) provides a fabulous sunset view. Not a lot goes on over the weekends (and everything is closed on Sundays), so this was the big activity for the weekend. 

You can do it, Johanna!

The Rock Islands

Katherine and I enjoy the view

As do Chris and Johanna

Snapper Spawning

When I initially made arrangements to work with PICRC, I had signed on to help out with a variety of research projects, but focus on fieldwork like monitoring protected areas. By the time I arrived, my coordinator had left the island and her replacement informed me that they had finished diving for the season. I’ll be able to join visiting researchers with their work in the upcoming months, and the typhoon damage might require additional assessments, but for now I’m working on socioeconomic surveys, data entry, and writing up reports, and I’m scouting out my own opportunities for research diving (and some fun diving, of course).

There’s a pair of researchers operating out of one of the dive shops (Sam’s) studying fish aggregations and spawning. At certain points in the lunar cycle, particular species of fish come together for mass spawning events, and Palau is one of the few places where there are enough remaining large fish for spectacular spawning sightings. Studying when and where these aggregations occur is important for designing conservation policies because when fish densely pack together, the entire population could be scooped up by a single fishing trip (this is how we obliterated orange roughy). This raises possibilities for looking at temporal rather than spatial protection: perhaps limiting fishing of species just for the days around their spawning events, and allowing it for the rest of the month.

Last week, the days preceding the full moon meant snapper aggregation, so Johanna, Katherine and I joined a spawning expedition. Richard, the researcher leading the dive, picked us up at 4:30am, and we headed out to the aggregation site. As the sun began to peek over the horizon, we jumped in and immediately dropped to 100 feet. The snapper spawn at the height of outgoing tide so the gametes will disperse in the open ocean, so we had to swim hard to avoid being swept out by the current. We followed droves of snapper that were pouring from what seemed like all directions to the aggregation: a swirling mass of thousands and thousands of huge fish. I had never seen anything remotely like this before—it was absolutely crazy. Abruptly, a female lit up with red streaks and darted upward away from the group, trailed by a swarm of males; the chase ended in a cloud of gametes. This happened several more times as we gazed, awestruck, kicking against the current, while the occasional shark cut below us (unfortunately I missed the rare bull shark sighting). All too soon we had to return to the surface, everyone on the boat yelping with excitement.

Snappers begin to aggregate

SO MANY FISH

Males streak toward a spawning female; the cloud of gametes is visible to the left of the clump.

The current was getting too strong and the seas too rough to jump in again at the aggregation, so we did another dive at a site called Sandbar to check out the resident leaf fish and a huge school of bigeyes. Back at Sam’s, Johanna, Katherine, and I, reluctant to return to the office and noting that it was early yet, grabbed tanks and explored the wall off the docks. Definitely a day I’ll remember forever! I’m hoping I’ll get to tag along for bumphead parrotfish spawning near the new moon, and maybe see a bull shark for the next round of snapper.

Leaf fish at Sandbar

Katherine checks out tiny juvenile fish.

Excellent demonstration of fish jaw opening/filter feeding mechanisms!

Giant clam

First Birth Ceremony

Over the weekend, Shirley, one of my co-workers, invited the foreign PICRC crowd to her sister’s first birth ceremony. The first birth ceremony is one of the most important Palauan traditions, and historically served the role of a Western wedding. Tourists usually wouldn’t get to experience this side of Palau, so we were fortunate that Shirley was so inclusive!

Our group of eleven arrived and was seated in what was clearly the “tourist” section. As Shirley’s sister was prepared for her entrance, the women of the family set up intricate floral and palm decorations around the yard and a live singer treated us to Palauan tunes in what turned out to be the most impressive display of vocal and speaker system power and endurance I have ever heard. Women danced around the singer, waving dollar bills that they ceremoniously stuffed in the singer’s cleavage at the end of each song. A sumptuous bento lunch was served, and then Shirley’s sister was unveiled, clothed in her clan’s traditional costume.

PICRC Foreigners (and Friends)

Becca, a lawyer from New Jersey, Katherine, a fellow PICRC intern from Portland, and I pose with palm decorations.

Shirley's sister, in traditional garb and pose, walks on woven palm mats.

From what I understand, the customs vary slightly from clan to clan, but all involve a “hot bath:” the woman is sprayed with boiling water in a private cleansing ritual with the women of her family. To protect her skin, she is bathed in a mixture of oils and herbs, and may only bathe in these oils and boiling water for a certain period leading up to the ceremony: for Shirley’s clan, ten days. The oils turn her skin yellow, and she was radiant in the sun, brightly colored from head to toe. All of the herbs, the plants in her headdress and clothing, and the fruit and floral decorations around the yard are highly specific and symbolic, and the procedure of how to mix them and where to find them is passed down orally through maternal lineages. I’ve heard that there are over 300 plants used in a traditional first birth ceremony—talk about local ecological knowledge! Palau is a matriarchal society, and in this ceremony it was very clear that women have the power. Traditionally, men were not even allowed to come to these ceremonies, but restrictions have become more lax over the years (and the women typically no longer go topless). It is frowned upon if men join in the dancing, however.

Shirley’s sister stood stoically in the middle of the yard as women danced around her, sprinkling her feet with hot water and herbs. Periodically a family member would give her water or a betel nut (a ubiquitous Palauan pastime, more on that later), but she did not alter her pose for the duration of the several-hour ceremony. We were exhausted and sweating profusely seated in the shade—I can’t imagine how strenuous it must have been to stand, arms raised, for so long in the sun. After about an hour, her husband came out with the baby for group pictures with the extended family. More dancing followed, and then she was led back into the house, her sisters placing woven palm mats before her so that her feet would not touch the ground. This marked the opening of the dance floor, and Shirley gave us the green light to add our embarrassing white people moves to the mix. The older Palauan women danced delightedly with us, laughing, and, at the end of the song, brought us up to the singer to deposit our singles.

Shirley (in pink) dances with the women in her family.

Some of the women started dancing with the fruit display; we learned later that this was not tradition but just for fun.

I'm fairly sure the speakers went up to eleven.

Exhausted, we took off after about five hours, but by the looks of things the party was just beginning. My host family tells me that their oldest son and his wife are expecting their first baby in the upcoming months, so I'm hoping to get another first birth ceremony experience before I leave!

Koror-Babeldaob Bridge, 11-10

One of my first dives in Palau and my first time using my underwater camera was underneath the main Koror-Babeldaob bridge (Babeldaob is the biggest island). Underpass diving isn't what Palau is famous for, but shore dives are basically free and I was happy to be in the water! It was murky and there wasn't much happening, but a great opportunity to try the macro settings. When I was taking pictures for the National Park Service I struggled for months to get anything closer than a foot away in focus, so I'm excited about these initial results.