Download - WaveLength Paddling Magazine

Know Your Neighbours
Hidden Charms of Mangroves
What does tropical paddling
mean to you? Brochures invariably
show white sandy beaches,
shallow coral reefs and drooping coconut
trees—our somewhat clichéd
northern version of paradise. At an
all-inclusive resort, that may well be
all the tropical ecology you see. But
if you do any real paddling down
south, you’ll most likely find yourself
in the forest.
I’m not talking about river paddling
mind you—I’m talking about
mangroves, the only trees capable
of living in salt water. Though they
rarely make the brochures, mangrove
forests make up a huge portion
of many tropical shorelines,
particularly in the shallow areas behind coral reefs that are popular
with paddlers. Believe it or not, coconut palms are not even
native to the Caribbean—the groves you find everywhere were originally
planted, often after the native mangrove trees had been cleared
and burnt.
Do people love coconuts that much? Yes mon! And as you’ll
quickly discover when you paddle up close, mangroves don’t have
the same charm as swaying coconuts with white sand underneath.
To put it mildly.
Some first impressions? Instead of white sand, picture an impenetrable
tangle of roots. How about some dark, sticky muck, or maybe
even no visible land at all—just roots. Don’t forget bugs! Mosquitoes
and biting midges might swarm you if there’s no breeze. And
what’s that nasty, rotten eggs smell? Would you like to go “ashore”
honey? Are you nuts? If the muck doesn’t swallow us whole, the
crocodiles lurking in all those dark nooks and crannies might.
But wait a minute. We’re paddlers, not cruise shippers. We’re
captains of our own small, highly maneuverable boats, not grumpy
passengers being ferried about by obsequious men in sailor suits.
We know that some places, just like some people, need to be understood
a bit better to be appreciated.
So let’s talk about mangroves. To know them might not be to
love them (unless you’re a geeky marine botanist), but you’ll find
them far more interesting and appealing when you understand what
makes them special.
Shallow and sunlit red mangrove roots can be
completely encrusted with animals and plants.
Bryan Nichols photo
Bryan Nichols
WHAT ARE THEY
Mangroves are trees that can deal
with a combination of two things that
would be deadly to every other
tree—salt water and flooded roots.
There are essentially only three species
in most of the Caribbean, but
there are many more in the (much
older) Pacific. Mangroves aren’t necessarily
closely related, and different
species have different ways of dealing
with salt and suffocation. We’ll
use the Caribbean species as examples—they
likely arrived around the
time of the dinosaur’s demise, when
Panama was open water and Pacific
species could float through the gap.
The most oceanic tree is the red
mangrove (Rhizophora mangle). It can grow up from shallow salt
water, blurring the line between land and sea. What looks like a
forest from the air is actually more of a salt water swamp, a maze
of channels and roots and short, scrubby trees. While that may not
be appealing to Homo sapiens, these swamps are hugely important
to a lot of other animals.
WHY SO SPECIAL?
First of all, they can be very productive. Though not too many
things eat them directly, mangroves shed leaves and bark and other
debris which drives an entire ecosystem of critters below. Besides
just providing nutrients, this rich, convoluted region of roots becomes
an ideal nursery for numerous species of fish and invertebrates,
critters that grow up to become favorites on the reef—and
in the restaurant.
But mangrove forests aren’t just productive—they are protective
as well. That maze of roots makes for the best line of defense against
potential destruction from both directions. From the sea, hurricanes
and cyclones would wreak far more havoc upon shorelines if much
of their fury wasn’t buffered by mangroves. This becomes painfully
(and expensively) obvious to resorts and cities that clear all their
mangroves and then get hit by one of those increasingly frequent
storms.
And it works both ways—floods of freshwater, silt and pollution ➞
October/November 2002 www.WaveLengthMagazine.com
21