With their fifth annual Endemic Animal Festival coming up on May 20th, the Les Fruits de Mer association released a new ebook. The Animals of Irma’s Island is full of stories about local wildlife after Hurricane Irma. You can download it for free at the group’s website.

“The aftermath of Hurricane Irma was a special time for both people and nature,” explained author Mark Yokoyama. “There were many hardships, but it was amazing to see nature in action. The chapters in this ebook were written between September and December 2017. They show nature bouncing back during that time.”

The ebook was made for this year’s Endemic Animal Festival. This event celebrates the animals that are found only on St. Martin or only in our region. The 2018 theme is Made Here.

“We’re excited to host this year’s festival at Amuseum Naturalis at The Old House,” said Les Fruits de Mer President Jenn Yerkes. “We’re still working on the museum itself, but this beautiful space is the perfect place to learn about St. Martin’s unique wildlife. We’ll also use the theme Made Here to show how nature connects to other parts of local heritage.”

The Endemic Animal Festival is a free public event for all ages. Activities include an Endemic Animal Discovery Station, birdwatching, and wildlife-themed art activities. Guests will learn about Plantilles, a series of native plant and community garden projects at The Old House. Several local experts will explore the Made Here theme as it relates to local wildlife, heritage and culture.

The 2018 festival will be held Sunday, May 20th from 9am to noon, and is made possible by support from our sponsors: BirdsCaribbean, Delta Petroleum, Happy Wine, Location De Bennes Diligence Express, Lagoonies Bistro and Bar and Tri-Sport. Visit lesfruitsdemer.com for more information about the festival, and to download The Animals of Irma’s Island.

Pont de Durat is an 18th century bridge in Marigot. It is a historical landmark that is not particularly famous, but you’ve surely crossed it. It is the bridge between Super U and the roundabout in Agrément.

Beneath the bridge, a concrete drainage channel running down from Concordia turns into a broader channel of water with some mangroves along the bank. At some point it was a pond, filled in bit by bit from every side. Now it runs in a lazy curve down to Galisbay.

Before Irma, it was one of the island’s least scenic wetlands. Shopping carts and mattresses decayed down to the metal springs stuck up out of the shallow water. After Irma, it was much worse, littered with twisted sheets of zinc.

Given the ongoing neglect of this area, it was a surprise to notice earlier this year that it had been cleaned up. The mangroves are recovering. The surface of the water is broken only by a couple dead branches, instead of countless pieces of manmade debris.

It is a joyful transformation and an entirely positive development. But it also brings to mind questions about how clean-up and recovery efforts are prioritized. Many other ponds are still sprinkled with debris. On the other side of this very bridge, garbage traveling down the drainage ditch is collecting.

On social media, around dinner tables and over happy hour drinks St. Martin residents discuss the relative merits of different relief efforts. It is not simply a question of which natural spaces to clean and restore first. There are countless tasks remaining.

There are also countless questions: Should money be spent on Carnival when many are still roofless? What critical work on utilities needs to be done before the coming hurricane season? Why does progress at the airport seem so slow? When will schools be restored? Should tourism infrastructure be prioritized to generate economic activity or should we focus on the needs of residents?

I don’t envy the politicians and public servants trying to make these decisions. So many things are left to do, and even successes can be criticized as misplaced priorities. Are projects inefficient? Do they rely to much on foreign companies? I certainly don’t have the answers. Clearly we should do as much as possible as soon as possible while providing as much local employment as possible. Figuring out exactly how to do that is a big challenge. In the meantime, we can celebrate successes wherever they happen.

A photo that’s claimed to be a boa constrictor in Grand Case is causing quite a commotion on Facebook this week. The person who posted it said that a man claimed to have released four of them after Hurricane Irma. If true, this could be the start of a serious problem for the island.

Of course, you can’t believe everything you hear. Every hurricane comes with its own stories. After Luis, we heard that monkeys escaped from the zoo and the Spotted Oleander Caterpillar Moth escaped from the butterfly farm. Neither thing was true as far as we know. Giant African Land Snails allegedly came with electrical cable from Guadeloupe or Africa. Green Iguanas were released at the Juliana Airport after Luis or at some other time within a few years. Some of the stories may be at least partially true, but they can never be verified.

Introduction of boas on to St. Martin would be a bad thing. Not because snakes are bad, but because introducing anything non-native usually has bad consequences.

On the plus side, many of the things that boas would eat here are not native. Rats, mice, mongoose, raccoons, monkeys and green iguanas were all introduced to this island by people, and all of them could be boa food. The same could be said for cats and dogs, although most people would not want to see them get eaten.

Native birds would also be prey for boas. This would be bad. They are an important and beautiful part of our local nature. At the same time, we don’t have any birds that are only found here, so boas on St. Martin would not put anything at risk of extinction. The animals that are found here and nowhere else are small lizards and insects that are probably not at risk from boas.

What will happen next? We can try to verify that the release actually happened, and we can try to find and capture the snakes in the wild. Unfortunately, it can be very hard, if not impossible, to find them. Perhaps years will pass before we know if they are breeding in the wild or not. These snakes could become a minor myth in the story of Hurricane Irma, or real-life monsters that disrupt our local ecosystem.

No matter what, we need to teach the public why introducing foreign plants and animals is bad. We need to help people see the beauty and value of our native plants and wildlife, and we need to explain how introduced species can hurt them. It is often too late to take action once animals have been released, but it is never to early to prevent a future incident.

On the frozen Norwegian island of Spitsbergen, the Svalbard Global Seed Vault stores the seeds of almost half a million plants, including about 90,000 food crops. Deliberately remote and frozen, it exists to safeguard the genetic heritage of the world’s plants, particularly those we depend on.

We only eat a few varieties of potato, corn or wheat, but hundreds more exist. Though we might not need them now, we may in the future. If a new disease or fungus destroys a popular crop, we may need to search these other varieties for one that is resistant. This resistance could then be bred or engineered into a popular variety.

The need for seed is not theoretical. There have been devastating events around the world, from the potato blight in Ireland to the loss of wine grape vines in France and the demise of the Gros Michel variety of banana.

On St. Martin, a seed bank could be very valuable for a totally different reason. Hurricane Irma caused widespread habitat destruction. In the aftermath, the island is in need of serious habitat restoration. Native tree replanting is one of the most important parts of that.

Normally, it would be easy to grow native trees. Many species produce great numbers of seeds. A single mature Gaïac tree can produce tens of thousands of seeds each year. It is usually possible to harvest plenty of seeds from key native species. Unfortunately, Irma swept all those seeds away. The devastation also interrupted normal flowering and fruiting cycles. At a time when native trees are most needed, seeds are very hard to find.

Trees can be brought in, but many foreign imports are slightly different than our native varieties. When we import plants, we also risk bringing in unwanted hitchhikers, like non-native lizards, snails and insects.

Ideally, St. Martin should have a seed bank stocked with seeds from local trees. This seed bank could focus on species that are most valuable for habitat restoration. Coastal trees and plants can be raised and planted quickly to keep beaches from disappearing, mangroves can be planted in wetlands, and other species can be planted to prevent hillside erosion.

A seed bank could speed up our restoration activity after a major storm. It could also reduce the cost of purchasing and shipping seedlings. Seeds could be harvested during good years from many different trees to help ensure healthy and diverse plant populations. Is it a good idea? You can bank on it.

A wild explosion of green broadcasted a message of recovery from the hilltops of St. Martin this winter. Hurricane Irma battered and bruised, but the tropical sun and wet season rains were like a green machine. The island was still alive.

Six months later, a closer look reveals a more complicated situation. Not all parts of the island have recovered equally and some remain devastated. Ecosystems are complex, and each type of habitat on St. Martin has its own vulnerabilities.

One thing we do know is that we desperately need a recovery. Mangrove wetlands offer key protection from storm surge and erosion. They can save lives and property in a Hurricane, but they also protect the island from slowly washing into the sea. It’s one ecosystem we literally can’t live without.

Some areas were on the edge of health—or even in the process of collapsing—even before Irma. Mangrove trees around many ponds have been dying for five years, a process that seemed to speed up during the drought a few years ago. Like a house that was already crumbling and termite-ridden, Irma tore up these wetlands and they are not yet recovering.

Étang de la Barrière in French Cul-de-sac was a magical spot for birdwatching just a few years ago. A gorgeous boardwalk was built through the mangroves so people could watch egrets, stilts and whimbrels catch fish and fiddler crabs. Today the boardwalk is damaged, but the ecosystem that it showcased is almost totally destroyed.

What will happen to this spot? What will happen to the many other places where bare, dead trees line the banks of St. Martin’s ponds? I think it is hard to say, especially because we don’t know exactly why they are in such desperate shape.

Human activity probably harmed them: pollution and simply cutting back mangroves until only a thin thread remained. The drought of 2015 seems to have made things worse. Irma’s winds and waves were perhaps just the final push over the cliff. With the possibility of drought forecast for the region this year, who knows when a recovery might begin.

Cactus may make many people think of the desert, but these prickly plants are also key Caribbean species. The things that help them survive in the desert can help them in a place like St. Martin. Their survival strategies can also help them bounce back after a hurricane.

The Doodle Doo Cactus grows in long columns. It’s also known as a columnar cactus, pipe organ cactus or dildo cactus. Although the tall branches are strong, they are often broken by hurricane winds. The trunk of this tree-sized cactus can survive even when its branches are blown off.

The broken branches of the Doodle Doo can regenerate new cacti. This is actually a common way that cacti reproduce and spread. The small Prickly Pear Cactus on St. Martin is even known in French as the Raquette Volante or “flying racket” because the cactus pads seem to jump out and attach them to unlucky people walking by.

Hurricanes may help cacti spread by blowing pieces of cactus to new locations where they can grow. They may also give cacti a head start by clearing leaves. Cacti grow slowly, so they have trouble competing with other plants for light. That’s one reason why we often see cacti in difficult places—like rocky cliffs—where other plants can’t grow.

The ability to live in spaces where almost nothing else can grow may also help cacti survive hurricanes. The Turk’s Head cactus often lives on rocky seaside cliffs. To live there at all requires the strength to cling to bare rock and the ability to withstand wind and waves. These cacti are low to the ground and have roots that wind into cracks in the rock. For them, a hurricane is simply a much worse version of the difficult conditions they already face.

The fact that cacti can survive hurricanes is a big benefit to a hurricane-struck island. When all fruit and leaves have been stripped from trees, pieces of cactus can provide food and water to many animals. In between hurricanes, it is important to protect cacti. Some are stolen to plant in backyards, many are trampled by goats and other livestock. Let’s keep our prickly pals happy so they can help us during times of need.

When bare hillsides exploded into green after Hurricane Irma, it was a welcome inspiration. Today, those same hills are looking very different. As the island shifts into the dry season, the vibrant greens are fading. Will it put nature’s recovery on hold?

For anyone still living under a tarp, the dry season surely comes as a relief. It’s also a natural cycle that happens each year. Plants and birds and lizards and bugs that evolved here are adapted to it.

While our native species will survive the dry season, it may slow the recovery for some. All those green leaves that sprouted during the wet season feed life on the island. During the dry season, many plants lose their leaves to retain water.

Fast growing tan-tan, that covers many hills here, is nothing but brown branches and seed pods right now. Grasses that were quick to grow are yellow and dry, conserving their water in their roots. Other trees and plants fare better, especially native ones that are adapted to the dry season.

When plants retreat in the dry season, the rest of nature changes, too. Fewer leaves mean fewer insects. Fewer insects mean less food for insect-eating birds, bats and lizards. Less food often means fewer babies.

Because it doesn’t get cold here, many animals can breed throughout the year. And many of them do. But because there is less food during the dry season, most reproduce less during this time. In a normal year, animals will build up their population during the wet season and it will decline during the dry season. Overall, the population remains stable.

This year, the dry season arrives when many species are still recovering from the hurricane. Chances are, it will pause their recovery as many species focus on survival rather than reproduction. For nature’s sake, we should hope this year’s dry season isn’t too dry or too long. A drought like the one we experienced a few years ago could be a big problem.

For a tiny island, St. Martin is remarkably diverse. Some say it is home to people from over 100 countries who speak almost that many different languages. Whatever the exact number, St. Martin is undeniably a great melting pot of peoples and cultures. In turn, these people bring a wide variety of skills and traditions to the island.

Diversity is an important part of rebuilding. Construction techniques from the Caribbean and far beyond can be found on St. Martin, from woodworking to rubble stone masonry. Personal connections reaching out from the island in all directions bring the necessary aid and trade. Great diversity harnessed towards a common goal of rebuilding has made St. Martin strong.

Diversity works similarly in the natural world. Bees, butterflies and hummingbirds survive when there are hundreds of different plants flowering throughout the year. Hundreds of different plants survive when there are hundreds of different insects spreading their pollen from one flower to the next so they can fruit.

In nature’s post-hurricane rebuilding, every species has a role. Fruit-eating birds like pigeons and thrashers bring new seeds to areas were trees were felled. Fast growing plants, like the beach morning glory hold the beach together while cocoplums and sea grapes grow back. Flies consume carrion left by the storm and while providing food to hungry lizards and birds.

Much like our human community on St. Martin, a strong and resilient natural community requires diversity. For millions of years, this was not a problem. The Caribbean is considered a biodiversity hotspot because so many unique species have developed here through time. Over the last few hundred years, however, this diversity has come under threat.

St. Martin’s nature remains surprisingly diverse despite widespread deforestation for agriculture in previous centuries and widespread development during the current tourism era. More than 100 kinds of birds can be found here. Probably more than 1,000 different insects live here, as do hundreds of different plants.

After Irma, it was a joy and an inspiration to watch the hillsides explode into green again. We enjoyed the birds as they sang and entertained us. We enjoyed the flowers as they bloomed and the butterflies that swarmed around them.

In addition to enjoying the magic of St. Martin’s biodiversity, we should work to ensure it remains vibrant: protecting wild spaces where they still exist, sharing our backyards and neighborhoods with native plants and animals and managing our own waste in a responsible way. Likewise, we should embrace diversity in all its forms, respecting and nurturing it so it can continue to give us strength.

The aftermath of Hurricane Irma has been a rollercoaster. We have bounced through feelings of fear, relief, uncertainty, hope and joy. We’re not alone. Some parts of nature have also experienced ups and downs on the road back to normal.

Some of these bumpy roads have been easy to notice. The time of many flies arrived a few weeks after Irma and then ended gradually. The explosion of new vegetation began right after the storm, but has started to slow as rainfall becomes less frequent.

Today, you may see trees that recovered from Irma are bare again. Flamboyants, Gaïacs and Jamaican Capers are being devoured by caterpillars. After being inspired by the recovery of the island’s plants, this can be sad for us to see. But it is also part of the recovery process.

Our local natural systems move towards balance. Hundreds of plants and animals each have their place in the landscape. But that balance isn’t constant, only the movement towards it. It happens every year as wet season passes into dry season and in a thousand smaller ways.

After a major event like a hurricane, the balance is disrupted. Suddenly stripped of all their leaves but well watered by the rain, plants grew back like crazy. It is no surprise that an explosion of leaves would be followed by an explosion of caterpillars.

As much as we are trained to see caterpillars as pests, they are important, too. They keep vegetation in check by eating it. They provide food for birds, lizards, insects and spiders. For a moment, it may seem like we have too many, but today’s caterpillar boom is just another bump on the road back to balance.

In the aftermath of a major hurricane like Irma, we all pause to take stock of our own preparedness. Who hasn’t bought an extra flashlight over the last few months? Generators, camp stoves and tarps: we’ve probably bought many things that will hopefully gather dust for many years before they are needed.

Local government and other organizations are also thinking towards the future, even if it is not always as much as we might hope. In Grand Case, power lines are being buried. The safety of coastal areas on the French side is being assessed to determine how and where we rebuild.

Will the island recover stronger than ever? Will we rebuild smarter and safer? Will governments and companies make decisions that will reduce the impact of future hurricanes? History will be the judge of that. In the meantime, there’s at least one important thing we can do.

Native trees benefit both wildlife and humans. They provide food and shelter for birds and other animals. They also protect the island—and those who live on it—from some of the dangers of hurricanes. Planting them now can help us prepare for future storms.

On our hillsides, native trees help retain soil. When a brushfire sweeps across a grassy hill, we can see the state of the land without trees. It is a mosaic of stones with just the slimmest veins of soil between them. Reforesting these areas can help to bring them back to life. It can also reduce the chance of landslides or loose stones causing damage during or after a storm.

On our ponds and coastlines, mangroves and trees like the sea grape can help form a barrier against storm surge. These trees can absorb some of the energy of the waves, protecting homes further inland. They can also help save beaches and coastlines from erosion.

We need to replace many trees that were lost during Irma. If we are being honest with ourselves, we also need to replace many trees that were lost before Irma as we cleared and developed the island. There are few other tasks so simple and so necessary.

With some luck, our next major hurricane will be years away. The emergency radio you just bought will be so old you’ll have trouble finding it, and maybe it won’t even work anymore. But the trees you plant today will be standing tall and protecting us.