At Sea
A warm windy day in the South Atlantic sets me to thinking about the winds and currents that wash over the remote islands of this sea and all the various plants, animals and men they have been carried here over the centuries. Tristan da Cunha was a crossroads for travelers from all over the world in the days when ships rode the wind. Explorers and soldiers, whalers and sealers and sailors all found a welcome respite here from the wide waters surrounding her shores. Now steel ships pass by heedless, hurrying on to the next port without a thought for the winds or island refuges; but the unique community of travelers washed up on Tristan remains, at home here now and offering a special welcome to those whose own currents bring them to visit for a brief while.
Other communities also welcome us to these little flecks of land. For all the thousands of centuries since Tristan first raised her fiery head above the waves, a slow rain of plants and animals has fallen. Some rode the winds, others made the long aimless float over the sea; those that survived slowly changed and grew to be at home, wonderful creatures found nowhere else in the world. Once, before men began to ride the winds and waves around the globe, our planet was rich in endemic species like these. Hawaii, New Zealand, Madagascar and many other remote lands were treasure troves of unique flora and fauna. Now only the hardiest or best hidden remain and Tristan and her sister islands are all the more precious for the isolation which has protected them and their residents. Walking ashore here we are accosted by fearless albatross chicks, and watched as breeding petrels scurry by our feet and laugh at thrushes landing in our laps. Just for a moment we are given a glimpse into the past, a heady taste of the youthful beauty of our world.
Beneath the waves we can discover yet another rare island community, and see the qualities of the shore mirrored and lensed into something peculiar to the sea. Tristan is a crossroads of the submarine world as well; while swimming through one of the northernmost forests of giant kelp in the Southern Hemisphere, we also encounter sea palm from the North Atlantic, stretching the southern limits of its range. Riding currents to distant islands is far easier for marine creatures, many of whom normally drift for hundreds or thousands of miles in their larval forms. Consequently, endemism is rare in the sea. But there are endemic fish here and numerous other marine creatures unique to these current-swept lava walls. This Tristan redfish (Sebastes capensis) is an excellent example. Its relatives, the rockfish, are found from Alaska to Chile to Norway, but this species can be found nowhere else in the world.
What a blessing that Tristan da Cunha lacks the things that most men seek. No gold lies hidden here, there are no tall forests or fertile plains to bring a rush of settlers. Only the winds and the tides and their slow rhythms, building and protecting this precious island world.
A warm windy day in the South Atlantic sets me to thinking about the winds and currents that wash over the remote islands of this sea and all the various plants, animals and men they have been carried here over the centuries. Tristan da Cunha was a crossroads for travelers from all over the world in the days when ships rode the wind. Explorers and soldiers, whalers and sealers and sailors all found a welcome respite here from the wide waters surrounding her shores. Now steel ships pass by heedless, hurrying on to the next port without a thought for the winds or island refuges; but the unique community of travelers washed up on Tristan remains, at home here now and offering a special welcome to those whose own currents bring them to visit for a brief while.
Other communities also welcome us to these little flecks of land. For all the thousands of centuries since Tristan first raised her fiery head above the waves, a slow rain of plants and animals has fallen. Some rode the winds, others made the long aimless float over the sea; those that survived slowly changed and grew to be at home, wonderful creatures found nowhere else in the world. Once, before men began to ride the winds and waves around the globe, our planet was rich in endemic species like these. Hawaii, New Zealand, Madagascar and many other remote lands were treasure troves of unique flora and fauna. Now only the hardiest or best hidden remain and Tristan and her sister islands are all the more precious for the isolation which has protected them and their residents. Walking ashore here we are accosted by fearless albatross chicks, and watched as breeding petrels scurry by our feet and laugh at thrushes landing in our laps. Just for a moment we are given a glimpse into the past, a heady taste of the youthful beauty of our world.
Beneath the waves we can discover yet another rare island community, and see the qualities of the shore mirrored and lensed into something peculiar to the sea. Tristan is a crossroads of the submarine world as well; while swimming through one of the northernmost forests of giant kelp in the Southern Hemisphere, we also encounter sea palm from the North Atlantic, stretching the southern limits of its range. Riding currents to distant islands is far easier for marine creatures, many of whom normally drift for hundreds or thousands of miles in their larval forms. Consequently, endemism is rare in the sea. But there are endemic fish here and numerous other marine creatures unique to these current-swept lava walls. This Tristan redfish (Sebastes capensis) is an excellent example. Its relatives, the rockfish, are found from Alaska to Chile to Norway, but this species can be found nowhere else in the world.
What a blessing that Tristan da Cunha lacks the things that most men seek. No gold lies hidden here, there are no tall forests or fertile plains to bring a rush of settlers. Only the winds and the tides and their slow rhythms, building and protecting this precious island world.
