Palmyra Stories – 2007
by Scott B. Wilson

Kick your feet over your head and freefall into the clear blue water. The bottlenose dolphins, moments ago at the surface, now float weightlessly below. Hover for a moment and wait for your small band of waternauts to coalesce.
 
Descending slowly towards the coral-covered bottom, a school, perhaps a hundred, of curious grey reef sharks drifts in your direction. Strangely identical, they fail to appear larger as they near. Suddenly it becomes clear, it is a nursery of baby sharks, brothers and sisters all. You travel together for a time, interest reciprocated.
 
Near the sea floor now, the current is a steady breeze, providing effortless flight over the endless stretch of coral and fish. Looking for differences between this near-pristine reef and its heavily fished cousins, little is immediately apparent. If anything, Palmyra appears to have fewer colorful reef fish. Curious.

Small geodesic tents of rebar and wire mesh appear periodically along your path – predator-free zones to evaluate behavioral changes in the absence of hungry sharks and trevally. One of the last of its kind, scientists rush to understand its inner workings so other reefs may be saved.
 
Once again on the boat, the water’s surface is stirred by small groups of fins in every direction – a thousand-strong pod of melon-headed whales, well known to John who travels these waters daily. Normally shy, they happily take turns riding the boat’s bow wave. Grab your snorkel and fins, jump off the stern and hold on to the trailing rope. A newly designed adventure ride – deep blue water below, friends behind and a cavitating prop ahead. Dolphin calls come from every direction. Three adults and two adolescents come near, effortlessly matching the boat’s speed. A lifelong dream realized.
 
Sated from a late lunch, you head out with Jenn and Alan to catch and tag sharks – restoring this and other lagoons requires first understanding the lagoon. Drop a clothesline overboard, only a hook and month-old tuna is required. Today you wait, unlike yesterday, when three giant trevally obliged within minutes. Finally, a meter-long black tip strikes and is pulled to the side of the boat. Unlike the trevally, the shark is handled outside the boat, which seems too ready to dump us all as we struggle to calm our catch. Tag attached, you synchronize the release of the tail with Jenn to avoid a parting gift from our friend.
 
A new day, and your first trip to another of the small islands that make up the atoll, the home of the coconut crabs, no longer found on the main island due to the previous caretaker’s refined palate. Walking through the palm forest, you come upon an area littered with small red ribbons. You gather them to return the area to its unadulterated state. (Just kidding Hillary – another experiment in progress.) Purple, orange, large and slow, the crabs molt in small caves dug in the dirt. Alan peels a coconut to feed them and you hope the crabs are more facile. The treat lures a crab into the open, and rather than retreating into her den, she begins a long, slow trek – off to a better dining area?
 
One of the last, great places, there is no single thing that makes Palmyra special. Instead, it is all the things on Palmyra. It is a window to a once and (possibly) future world.