Surfing and Corals: Does Coral Bleaching Matter?

Many tourists may know Puerto Rico for its vibrant capital San Juan and the island’s beautiful landscapes and beaches. Aguadilla, quite the opposite of the tourist haven of San Juan, is situated in the northwestern sector of the island. However, its brutal (colloquial term for something that is either outstanding or causes immense adversity) waves are a major attraction for surfers. So much so, that the western region of the island is referred to as the island’s surfing capital. Now, you may be thinking coral and surfing, how do the two connect? Well, the very beaches that surfers frequent underwent great destruction in the face of the deadly category five Hurricane Maria. Beneath the surface of Aguadilla’s “gnarly” waves are precious coral reefs—many of which suffered hurricane damage and have long been subject of coral bleaching.

For many, corals and coral ecosystems are a distant, unseen segment of our oceans. However, for years, corals have been steadily and seriously harmed by our rapidly warming oceans. I must admit, as a native islander from the Dominican Republic and then a resident of many US coastal communities, coral reefs did not cross my mind past the thick and glossy pages of primary science textbooks. It was not until my family moved to Puerto Rico, in the aftermath of Hurricane Maria, that I understood the importance of coral reefs.

After settling in Aguadilla, unaware of the path it would lead me down, I joined a 9^th grade student-led research team on coral restoration who called themselves “Coral Reefsearchers.” Coral reefs would soon become the turning point in my becoming hyper-aware of the environment and global climate change. I began to google terms like climate change and environmental justice. Even then, I knew that coral bleaching and loss of coral habitats did not begin with natural disasters like Hurricane Maria but were part of a much more layered and decades-long process of what we now refer to as the climate crisis.

While I have partly left my coral work in the past, curiosity got the best of me so I recently searched online about coral reefs. What I found was not good news: NOAA confirms 4^th global coral bleaching. Included were coral habitats off the coasts of Florida, Puerto Rico, and the US Virgin Islands. And worse, I found this devastation is the second massive bleaching event in the past decade, taking place from 2014 to 2017 when 56% of the world’s coral experienced heat stress leading to bleaching. As I write, I imagine and dread what is to become of the coral habitats at the very beaches I frequented in my time in Puerto Rico and South Florida. For those who have never seen a coral or do not feel a tangible connection between their local environment and such distant ecosystems, it is critical to truly understand what is at stake for our coasts and oceans, as well as our air and land when we talk about coral bleaching.

Stressing climate change as the major cause, scientists have long predicted the continuance of global bleaching events in the face of warming oceans and fossil fuel dependence. In February 2024 alone, the average sea temperatures surpassed 21°C—”a record high”—according to the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP). And just a few years ago, IPCC scientists concluded that warming above the 1.5°C threshold would cause a further 70-90% decline in coral reefs.

But why does the loss of coral reefs matter and what does coral bleaching even mean? Faced with mounting ocean temperatures, coral, which consists of living organisms (large colonies made up of small coral polyps) bleach, expelling beneficial algae that live on them. This causes corals to lose their vibrant colors and turn white. While it is true that coral bleaching is not immediately fatal, continued bleaching events can certainly lead to the death of these already-vulnerable organisms. In ongoing efforts to rehabilitate these bleached ecosystems, many scientists have turned to coral restoration—like the very projects I participated in during my time in Puerto Rico. Often successful, the process involves propagating healthy coral polyps onto bleached corals. However, Sam Teicher, chief reef office at Coral Vita points towards the limitations of such restoration attempts, stating “As someone who runs a coral restoration company, I’ll be the first person to say the best thing to do for coral reefs is not to hire us…We have [to find solutions] for climate change, for pollution, for destructive fishing practices…those things aren’t happening fast enough.”

We cannot deny that our warming oceans have caused some irreversible damage to coastal ecosystems. While it is a given that not all coral habitats will be resilient enough to survive the warming in the coming years, research has made the root cause of coral bleaching clear: our carbon footprint. The bleaching and death of coral organisms is detrimental not only to the tourism many Americans indulge in as we escape the cold winters of the continental US for the warm, translucent waters of the Caribbean and the Florida Keys, but also to the lives of millions of people and marine animals. Coral reefs are what University of Miami professor Diego Lirman refers to as “The speed bumps of the ocean.” Without coral reefs, our shorelines will not be as protected against the growing ravages of storms and high tides.

Such peril calls out for action as I learned during my time at the Rachel Carson Council, especially when lobbying Congress during Capitol Hill Ocean Week (CHOW). We need to talk to our policy makers about the importance of protecting our oceans. And we must include and explain the critical role of coral reefs in these conversations. All life first emerged from this underwater world, a world that still sustains us and supports our life on land. We must do all we possibly can to protect it.

“It is a curious situation that the sea, from which life first arose should now be threatened by the activities of one form of that life.” – Rachel Carson, The Sea Around Us

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RCC Stanback Fellow – Emely Arredondo

Emely Arredondo is a junior at Duke University with a double major in Environmental Science and Policy and International Comparative Studies. Originally from the Caribbean and having lived in coastal communities in the U.S., Emely is driven by environmental work that focuses on coastal resiliency, post-disaster relief, and urban studies.