Honolulu Star-Advertiser © Susan Scott
September 14, 2019
Some days, it’s hard to keep working to save the animals I love when it seems as if the entire world is mired in disaster.
After feeling particularly down last week, I decided to see what the animals had to say about the state of the planet. Turns out, they don’t listen to the news. Not five minutes into my swim, I found a scene so exquisite, it brought tears to my eyes. Halfway under a coral head rested a healthy young turtle with a red flower behind her ear and an energetic support staff attending to her.
A turtle is surrounded with a bloom of red Spanish dancer eggs and reef fish.
©2019 Susan Scott
OK, turtles don’t have external ears, and the “flower,” a Spanish dancer’s roselike egg mass, was above the head. But the turtle really did have a charming entourage in the form of milletseed butterflyfish, several convict tangs and goldring surgeonfish.
Hawaii hosts two species of the nudibranchs we call Spanish dancers, red-orange snails without shells that dazzle beholders, whenever they show up, a fairly frequent occurrence around Hawaii’s reefs. Both species may be endemics, meaning found only here.
One, called the yellowmargin Spanish dancer, grows to about 8 inches long. That’s large for a nudibranch, but the other is even bigger. The redmargin Spanish dancer has body colors resembling marbled raw beef, and grows to 12 inches long. Both species lay their eggs in bright pink or red coiled ribbons attached to rocks.
Both kinds of Spanish dancers can leave the ocean floor when startled, unfurl their edges and swim in graceful, undulating movements. A Windward beach walker told me recently that she saw a flamenco dancer in the water. I knew exactly what she meant.
Both Spanish dancer species eat sponges, incorporating their natural toxins into the flesh, a recycling program that repels predators. The flower-shaped egg masses contain the sponge toxins at higher concentrations than the mother, protecting them during their weeklong incubation.
As for the turtle’s fish followers, several species of reef fish nibble algae, parasites and dead skin off turtles’ shells and soft parts. In this win-win system, the fish get meals while the turtles, hanging motionless as if at a spa, get rid of pests.
I’m not the only one who feels bad about the news. Last week a friend on the Big Island emailed, “Everything feels so negative: plastics, invasive species, fossil fuels, zero waste, etc. I want to be mindful with the choices I make … but don’t want to so obsess about it that there is no joy left.”
Another reader wrote, “It seems most news these days is depressing. I’m planning on NPR-free days pretty soon.”
Me, too. When I’m driving, I’ve been choosing comforting music over heartbreaking news. And when I get home, I get in the water and find joy.