Standing in proud and weathered sentry, a giant sea fan coral demands the attention of every eye that alights on Dive Site 3. In a scan of the primary producer residents of the rock, it would be an insult to the size and prominence of the sea fan not to take note of it before any other coral. More than a foot in height, the sea fan flaunts a hand-like display of five this blue veins. From these veins, innumerable smaller veins branch and criss-cross like winding tributanes, creeping upwards and outwards the way frost slowly encrusts a window.

But upon a closer look, the net-like continuity of the sea fan’s face is broken by a conspicuous interloper: a flamingo tongue, hugging the sea fan’s fourth finger with a kind of suctioned urgency. Pearly and smooth with rows of small brown dots, the flamingo tongue appears at first to be a decorative bead to complement the sea fan’s splendor. However, a glimpse of the blackened, dead trail shaking behind the flamingo tongue alludes to a slightly more sinister purpose. An immediate question comes to mind concerning the nature of the relationship between the sea fan and its trespasser: Is the flamingo tongue’s presence one or parasitism, in which is eats away the polyps of its host for no beneficial exchange? Or does the sea fan glean some hidden benefit as thanks for sustaining its bead-like guest?

The search for additional relationships between coral and other organisms brought me to a second sea fan. This one, a wide-mesh sea fan, lounged off the side of the rock like a pine branch laden with thick needles. Here, too, a flamingo tongue took up residence, interrupting the fuzz of 8 fingered polyps that distinguished this sea fan as an ahermatypic coral.

Next, my attention was drawn to a large, stoic-looking coral, which thrust up from the rock like a cactus. Strong and brittle, this coral twined like an intricate sculpture shaped from driftwood bleached on a beach shore. An absence of polyps made me suspect it to be a hard coral, which usually retracts polyps until night has fallen. A search through a coral field book revealed that this piece of drift wood art may have been a staghorn coral, part of the branching and pillar group.

In visual dialogue with the elegance of the staghorn, several sea plums lent their careless delicacy to the rock face. Drooping like weeping willow trees, the sea plums did not deign to display their polyps even to an inch-close examination. This absence made me wonder if the sea plume is a hermatypic coral, with polyps retracted during the day, or whether the polyps are simply too small or too inconspicuous for viewing.

Other corals, however, were not as shy about displaying their polyps. One particular sea-whip coral, straight and gray-stemmed, hosted a blossoming of white polyps that perfectly resembled dandelion seeds. The polyps dotted the sea-whip so abundantly that it look as though one could pluck the coral, blow on it, and scatter the seeds to make a wish come true.

A careful tour around the face of the rock revealed a continue plethora of biodiversity. Spiraling elegantly, a rose coral appeared a bizarre juxtaposition of the most delicate flower and the specimen of some neurology medical lab. The tenuous folds of a brain coral resembled a labyrinth maze. Plump spheres of great star coral beaded the rock’s surface, and elliptical coral carpeted many areas in a patch work of pink polyps. Clusters of cup corals rose like white popcorn, lush flowers in a landscape of green.

Thanks Emily for this amazing piece of work!

Marine Ecology: In Marine Ecology, the classroom is not a room full of chairs or desks. Instead, the classroom is a small portion of a larger coral head, buzzing with fish of all sizes and coral of all kinds. As students learn about various components of the marine ecosystem, they have the opportunity to explore what they learn in class underwater by taking the time to observe a single section of a reef. Students return to the same spot every class, each day more aware of the complex interactions that make a functional ecosystem. Students also dive into the world of Aldo Leopold and Rachel Carson and participate in discussions about ethics and conservation.

Food Systems: Understanding where our food comes from, how it gets to our table, and where our waste going after we are through are all essential in gaining a sense of place and grasping our term’s theme: living well in that place.  During the Food Systems unit, students will visit farms (both on and off Island School’s campus) to learn about the challenges and techniques to growing food on Eleuthera.  In addition, students will understand both our environmental and social impacts that accompany our production of waste products.  After two and a half days of in and out of classroom learning about food systems and human ecology, students will take part in intensives that highlight important sustainable food systems here on the Cape.  Students will break up into two groups, focusing on either the Aquaponics system at CEI or the Farm on Island School’s campus to further understand how to live well in a place with regards to the food we eat and the waste we produce.

Tourism & Development (Down Island Trip): Students explore the island of Eleuthera on a four day camping road trip. While visiting new settlements, such Governor’s Harbour, Harbour Island and Spanish Wells, student conduct interviews with local Bahamians. On the Down Island Trip, students also visit some of the natural attractions like ocean holes to swim in, or caves to climb through. Throughout the week, students conduct a variety of readings and have discussions about how tourism has shaped the development of Eleuthera. As they see the effects of failed tourism on the island, they began to discuss alternative forms of tourism and how it can be done so in a sustainable way for the island of Eleuthera. The class opens student’s eyes to how we can travel and understand a place we are visiting, as well as getting a chance to see all 100 miles of Eleuthera!

Our first Down Island Trip comes back to campus today and we are looking forward to having our whole community together this afternoon!  Stay tuned for more updates from Summer Term 2013!

Stories are powerful…they inspire, they infuriate, they educate, they enchant, they humor, they teach. Above all, they help us understand; it takes an image and imprints it in our mind.  A wise woman once said that “wherever a story comes from, whether it is a familiar myth or a private memory, the retelling exemplifies the making of a connection from one pattern to another: a potential translation in which narrative becomes parable and the once upon a time comes to stand for some renascent truth”. During class, students are encouraged to embrace this approach, to apply it to all incidents of our blue world: the insistent pecking of a parrotfish upon algae-covered coral, the annoyed pursuit of a territorial damselfish, the trusting shrimp patiently cleaning a Nassau grouper. As a species, we tend to think in metaphor and learn through story. At The Island School, we ask the same, no matter what the class…even Marine Ecology.

We want to dedicate this space to excerpts from students’ stories created beneath the waves.

“The water was murky from the sand and silt that the divers had kicked up. We sat in the sand before a majestic display of color. It was as though nature was putting on a play and we were its humbled audience.”

“The French angelfish swims slowly around the tiny piece of reef like she owns it. Separate from the town that exists beside it, the solitary coral head is her palace and all the fish act as her subjects. The tiny fairy damselfish are her ladies in waiting and the sea fan is there for her entertainment. In this tiny kingdom each fish has a job to do, which they’re hurrying to accomplish.”

“Then like a ghost, the monstrous barracuda glides through the water. He is mean, but lonely. He will never be part of this family. And as he moves on in search of acceptance, his shadow disappears, and his scales become one with the water around him.”

“Nature’s play intensified as a lionfish emerged from its den, as fierce and beautiful as the sun. It made sense for a lionfish to be there. It had an almost endless supply of infant fish to feast upon but if you think one lionfish is intimidating, then how would you feel about two? It was a deadly duo dancing and flaunting their allure.”

Slowing ascending to the surface, the curtain goes down on the first act. Remember, this was merely the first act; there is so much more story to tell, many more characters to introduce. It is far from over.

–The Marine Ecology Team

White-Spotted Octopus by Nick Manning

Oh, I didn’t see you there; I’m a White Spotted Octopus, it’s nice to meet you. If flexibility is what you look for, seek no farther; I’m 100% compressible except for my beak. My white oval spots and my wart-like skin papillae on my mantle complement my brick red skin beautifully. I hope my appearance really reaches out to you like my arms, which are 4 times the size of my body. Speaking of my body, I carry a rounded, bulging head mounted by my 2 protruding eyes that pop out of the front. It’s amazing that my beautiful self grew out of a 1/8^th inch egg.

When you do decide you want to meet me, I’m sure we can meet up in Florida, Bahamas, or the Caribbean, as well as any sub-tropical environment. Don’t get your hopes up, however, I wont appear for just anybody. Try coming down to my home in the sand flats and rubble areas adjacent to reefs. I like to hang out down there so I can forage along the reef edge for shrimp and crabs. I don’t like to come out in the day much, but when I do it’s usually for food. My only real hobbies are sleeping and eating, but I have been known to swim and eloquently change my shape.

I really hate it when I get disturbed. But if you mess with me you will get a flash of my bright red body, and a full flash of my white spots. When things kick in the rubble around reefs, I usually don’t take it so well. I will provide services to my home, however. As an active member of the food chain, I take pride in my role as crab-population-keeper-downer. Without me, crab populations would run amuck, spelling disaster for the creatures who already have enough competition for food, and the coral that works so hard to support the already existing populations.

Mandarin Fish by Nick Manning

Sup, I’m a Mandarin fish, also known as the Coral Reef Kaleidoscope fish. It’s chill I guess. Ya, I kind of have these brilliant colors all over my body. Some people tell me it’s kind of a big deal, but I don’t want to flaunt or anything. I mean, nobody wants to eat me; I’m just to colorful for most people. They think I’m just too cool, or maybe I just taste bad, but I kind of rule. My body is covered by brightly colored stripes and spots, which are complemented by my sweet pectoral fins. They keep me balanced, and most other fish don’t really have them, so I’m just sort of a trendsetter I suppose. My eyes stick out of the front of my head so I can see things in front of me and to the side of me. I can also see in color, but it’s whatever, I don’t even care. Ya, I suppose the coolest part of my body is my long, pointed spine on my dorsal fin. Actually, maybe my thick skin is my best attribute. It’s my skin that allows me to live in my cracks near the bottom of the sea in the reef. If I bump anything, it won’t even matter.

I like to make myself look pretty untouchable; you could say it’s a hobby. I raise the big spike on my back, and nobody has anything on me. I spend most of my time hiding in the cracks of the reef, however, cause I don’t want everybody to be jealous too much of the time. From my cracks I eat pretty much whatever I want. Usually some smaller fish, or whatever floats by my home. One of my favorite meals is algae. Sense I have a hard mouth that is a little over the par of most fish, I can nibble at the algae around my home. This makes me a pretty important member of my reef. By nibbling the algae, I stop it from suffocating the reef. You could say I play a pretty big role in my food web, but I try to be modest. It’s a pretty hard life, being more colorful and important than the other fish, but somebody has to do it. The reef is just lucky to have somebody like me who is willing to take the job. The only thing I ask in return is that nobody annoy me by disrupting my home, or my making me produce too much of the mucus I use to deter predators. It smells pretty bad. Peace.

Schoolmaster Snapper by Sarah Becker:

Welcome to your first day of the rest of your life! You have a lot to learn about! First, take out your notebook and a writing utensil. You’ll want to take some notes. Everyone ready? Okay, allow me to introduce myself. I am the Schoolmaster snapper, and I’m a little shy, especially around divers,  but at the end of the year, I mean, our last date, I’ll know your name. We’ll have to go out at night though because I’m busy hovering in schools all day, plus I’m a noctural feeder. I know a great restaurant though in my neighborhood where they serve all of my favorites, like small fish, crab, shrimp, crustaceans, and mollusks. Though some snappers tend to lurk in the shadows of hard corals or in and on sponges, I’ve saved and invested in some nive real estate in shallower waters near a reef. It’s fairly close to a mangrove swamp, and the perfect place to raise a family. As I mentioned, teaching is my profession, and I take it very seriously. I am an advocate of strict discipline and I keep the reef in line by eating the species that I do so that the food chain and the school stay in working order. I’ve been told I have a distinct profile, so you’ll know me when you see me, but just in case you have trouble picking me out from the other identical fish in my school, I have a triangular shaped head, a long pointed face, notched tail, and bright yellow fins, so my students can always find me. I’d love to meet someone new as it gets boring at school all day. Better be nice to me though-I’ve been known to cause food poisoning- but I’m still one of the most highly sought after fish. They saw there are always more fish in the sea, but in my case, I’m highly prized so don’t dilly-dally. Thank you, that’s all for today. Have a great afternoon and please remember to finish all your homework! See you tomorrow and everyday for the rest of our life together……