Community science at the Great Barrier Reef
Get your "minds-eye" ready to take a trip.
When I'm gearing up for a big trip, my routine involves diving into research about the destination. This year, thanks to my deep dive into community science projects, my prep includes exploring any participatory science projects available at our destination. Take our recent October jaunt to Australia's east coast, for example. Ahead of our trip, I delved into the Land Down Under's community science landscape. I was astounded by the plethora of options available, from Ant Mimicry, Checking for Change, AirRater, Eye on Water Australia, Critterpedia, Cinder, and more. Today, I will highlight one standout project, the Great Reef Atlas.
The abundance of community science initiatives in Australia didn't come as a surprise, considering it ranks 8th globally for environmental concern, as per this year's U.S. News & World report. This country boasts some of the planet's most unique species, like kangaroos and koalas. Did you know that more than 80 percent of Australia's mammals, reptiles, frogs, freshwater fish, and 70 percent of its birds are found exclusively in its remarkable natural environment? After our visit, I can confirm that Australia is a destination that delights the eyes, especially if you're ready to get a little wet.
Before embarking on our journey, I decided to engage with the Great Reef Atlas. Anticipating our visit to the reef, one of the most complex ecosystems on the planet, I knew the Census project would pique my interest. The online training acquainted me with identifying various coral types found at the reef—plate, boulder, and branching reef coral. I contributed to the Atlas data by analyzing coral images and selecting answers based on my observations. Although the work was straightforward and quick, it gave me a tangible sense of what I later witnessed in real life—drifting in the Pacific and attempting to stay calm while floating above the largest living organism on the planet.1
At the reef. Yes, as good as I’d imagined.
On the late October day of our full-day snorkeling excursion (remember: spring in Australia!), I was buzzing with excitement, a thrill tinged with a touch of apprehension due to my unease in deep waters. Yet, now back home, I'm delighted to report that the experience surpassed my expectations. Whenever my friends ask, "Was snorkeling at the reef as incredible as you imagined?" I proudly affirm, "Yes! Even better than I imagined." While I didn’t take underwater pictures (not a good idea for me to fumble with a camera while snorkeling), let me paint a picture for you.
The reef and me. Me and the reef.
To go snorkeling on the Great Barrier Reef, we traveled to Port Douglas, AU where we joined a snorkeling and dive boat that took us on a 1 hour and 15 minute long trip out to the reef. Here, the reef is called a “ribbon” reef because it grows along edge of the continental shelf where things really get deep. I didn’t like to think of how deep the water “out there” was, but I can say for sure the color changes rapidly to a deep and intense dark blue beyond the shelf. Our trip started about 8:30 a.m. and as we motored out, the crew showed us the equipment we would use and explained how we’d spend our full day visiting three locations along the reef. The boat use, travel and instruction plus snorkeling equipment for the day cost us just under $200 apiece and included a nice lunch. The boat––fresh, white, well-equipped––seemed at capacity with maybe 100 others onboard, mostly snorkelers with a few divers. The weather was a perfect spring day in the Australian state of Queensland. The sun beamed down, reflected on the calm turquoise water, then came back to rest on the many happy faces of holiday-makers all around us. On the way out, Fred and I chatted and took in the scenery from behind our dark sunglasses. “I’m glad we’ll wear a full-body wetsuit,” I told him, thinking of the skin cancers I’ve had. He nodded. “The sun is no joke in Australia,” I added, touching the tip of my nose, which instantly made me think I needed more sunscreen so I began digging in my bag for the new tube of SPF 50 I’d just purchased that morning.
Three 90-minute snorkeling outings over the reef were planned for our day. I had read that reef operations would take tourists to the healthiest parts of the reef so I expected great things.2 Soon, our boat anchored near the reef, and the motor went silent. Our guides pointed the way we should swim. After I donned my equipment and jumped into the water (chilly!), I swam over to the reef, looked down and was immediately awestruck by what I saw. Oh, that’s what a coral garden is, I mused to myself in awe.
A “minds-eye” tour of the reef.
You look down into the world of the reef and you realize some pieces of it are only about a foot away from you. Reef is like rock, our guides had told us, and warned us not to bump into them because we can get hurt. 3 You see reef formations so knobby and jumbled—-some with fat fingers and branches, others like boulders of crumbled brains and still others that grow disc-like and stacked in layers. There are so many colors and everything gets mixed in with each other, the pinks and blues and oranges and lavenders side by side. Sometimes the reefs grow up and bind together to create a vertical structure the size of a bus. Oh, so those are the monoliths and coral walls I’d read about, I’d say to myself bobbing along. Once, I stopped and floated motionless trying to memorize what I was seeing. Before me loomed a colossal piece of branching coral, resembling a living bouquet with more than 20 expansive fingers reaching up. The fingers were thick, bumpy and pale yellow but the tip-ends? It seems crazy, but starting about an inch before the tips the fingers became deep purple. Picture all these reef fingers stretching to the light, all seemingly dipped in purple paint. It was so cool! You find yourself smiling so much into your snorkel mask. 4
So, you are imagining the reef itself, right? Now, conjure up hundreds, or maybe thousands, of fish. They were everywhere and on the bright October day we had, there was excellent visibility and calm water. Dashes of sunlight popped through the sea, lighting up everything below like putting spotlights on a stage. The stars of the stage were the remarkable fish, which in my view even outshone the corals. Wow, just to think that nature created fish. . . like these, or those? When you see a wall of maybe 200 iridescent cerulean fish swimming along in unison, each small as a minnow—-well, it is hard to peel your eyes away from the sight. Later I found out they were damselfish. It was a joy to see them being so like-minded in their parade to wherever they are going (safety in numbers!), undulating in the surf like a wide blue ribbon. Honestly, the whole school of fish situation was my most treasured scene of the entire snorkeling day. I loved the way I kept feeling almost engulfed by the matchy-matchy ones. Sometimes I’d even snort out a tight little laugh inside my mask when I’d spot a new school of the small guys, almost like well-disciplined families or best friends out on a road trip but keeping a tight schedule. Once, hundreds of perfectly matched “teams” of zebra fish (scissorta sergeant) were behind me, as a mass of orange-yellow fishes with lengthwise gray stripes (five-lined seaperch) streamed along beside me. The parades filled with small fry fish were charming and cute, and it was always fun to see a big fish cut through or duck under them.
Being at the reef is being amazed. Let me help you imagine neon parrotfish: a sizable fish, the size of an oval serving plate, that comes in neon yellow, turquoise and purple. All those colors are on the same individual fish but in patterns. You’ve got your stripes, edge and fin trims, and some even have a “tail light” dot on their rear end. Maybe an interior designer would chide “too busy,” but to me the grand show of the parrotfish and all her scaly cousins was a blessing and source of great joy. As I write this today, my descriptions feel inadequate, but the memories make me feel so good that I just shake my head and smile at the thought of all that activity going on right now. I realize that it is not hyperbole when advertisements report that the reef, that dancing and living place, provides the most spectacular scenery on earth.
I never once thought of my community science work related to the Great Reef Atlas when I was in the water. Now, back at home when I go to the Census website and identify corals in the flat blue-gray pictures that pop up on my screen, I find it hard to connect what I’m seeing here to the real thing. Still, I know the work is important. Climate change, specifically temperature extremes, is the primary driver of coral degradation in the region. Due to mass coral bleaching that occurred in 2016 and 2017, studies have estimated that 50 percent of the existing coral in the Great Barrier Reef has died. I saw some evidence of this when I was there, some coral is bleached out to almost white, and in other places I saw broken pieces of branching coral laying on the sea floor looking like broken sticks. The Census, which began in 2020, has so far produced almost 100,000 images for science. Results from last year’s census revealed that some areas of the 2,400-mile World Heritage site were thriving, while there was also severe damage to the coral in some other areas. To read about what is currently being done to restore the reef, read “What is reef restoration,” a Great Barrier Reef Foundation research article.
Coming up:
The Everyday Scientist Podcast Number 2: Learn about Red-Neck First Class, GoodSpace mushroom chewing gum, and what the Aussie dive instructor said about gun laws in America. Next week.
Index of subjects in The Everyday Scientist.
The reef is the size of Switzerland, Holland and the United Kingdom combined.
A few years ago, my friend Kerry got a cut at the Great Barrier Reef that was serious enough to need stitches. Now, the story of the incident, and the resulting scar, is helpful at parties when she plays two truths and a lie.
The snorkeling outfitter offered prescription lens snorkel masks. I used one and even though it was “generic” it worked like a charm for my nearsightedness.
What a wonderful adventure, Pam! I love "traveling" through your narratives and learn about environmental initiatives. I find fish intriguing and amazing, with all the variety. Looking forward to the next edition!
I loved reading this and reliving the trip we made to the reef about 30 years ago. Thank you.