Sunday, January 03, 1999 – Golfito

G’day

We arrived late last night in the Osa Peninsula and anchored about ten miles southwest of Golfito close to Puerto Jiminez, as we did not want to enter the shallow bay entrance of Golfito tired and late in the night. After a good sleep and breakfast, STARSHIP weighed anchor and headed for Golfito. We found our anchorage in front of the Banana Bay Marina, which is run by Shane a fellow Pom. Just like in backpacking, when cruising you always seem to bump into the same people or rather boats. In every port STARSHIP has pulled into since San Diego we have bumped into the vessel Tully and Golfito was no different.

Like I mentioned yesterday, we will be staying here for a few days to explore the land a little. Tomorrow we all fly to San Jose and dabble in some river rafting. What awaits us after that we are not so sure about, but I am sure it shall be exciting. We have enquired about this area a little and will probably also spend at least a day exploring around here. So what I am trying to tell you in a round about way is that you shall not be hearing from us until earliest Wednesday! Be ready for a gargantuan journal upon our return along with some mind blowing pictures.

Packing my dive gear and collections, I ask myself, "where did all the time go?" It seems like only yesterday that I was welcomed aboard the Starship in Puntarenas and about to head out to Cocos Island. We arrived before Christmas and DJ, Nikki, Ib and I quickly set about diving and capturing specimens with hand nets, by hook-and-line fishing, using anesthetics, traps, and when all else failed, our hands. Michael, Rich and Nikki took videos and still photos of the specimens that were too large to fit in the bottles. Avi Klapfer, the captain of the Sea Hunter, was also generous with his pictures and his advice. We spent more than 100 hours diving with scuba to depths of more than 50 m. I was not disappointed - but like every fish story, I long for the ones that got away.

In examining my notes and the creatures we collected, I realize that we accomplished a lot during the last two weeks and I would like to share my thoughts as they evolve. This is of course only preliminary - the tedious work will begin at the museum and its ichthyological library where specimens must be compared and examined under the microscope. For me, an evolutionary biologist and zoogeographer (a scientist who studies the distribution of animals), each expedition results in intriguing discoveries of the abundance, presence and absence of species. As I mentioned in a previous journal entry, I have been fortunate to have participated in a dozen expeditions to the nearby Galapagos Archipelago, as well as projects along the mainland of Central America. At Cocos, I was amazed to observe so many individuals of species that are rare or absent along the Pacific coast of Costa Rica and Panama, and also rare at Galapagos. Cigar-shaped, colorful wrasses (family Labridae) unique to Cocos were abundant. Certain surgeonfishes (family Acanthuridae), whose tails possess a pair of modified scales that function defensively and are as sharp as a surgeon’s scalpel, were more abundant here than at any other location I’ve visited. Garden eels, those elongate modified conger eels that pick plankton from the passing water and wave to and fro like wheat stalks in the wind, were found wherever there was a passing current and sand on the bottom. I was told to look out for them by my colleagues before departing for Cocos, but little did I realize that this species, which lacks a scientific name, would be so abundant. (We also collected at least three other small species of fishes that I know to be new species. Perhaps there are more.) And white-tipped reef sharks were as common as fleas. This must be the only place on Earth where one can see 100 white-tipped sharks milling about during a single dive.

The fish that are abundant elsewhere, but absent at Cocos also provide clues as to life underwater at Cocos. Many species just can’t swim that far. Others have been reduced by overfishing and habitat destruction. Because commercial fishing is disallowed and the rangers actively monitor the coastline, Cocos seems to be a safe haven for nearshore shark species. But past shark fishing and the ranger’s inability to effectively patrol any distance from shore probably explains the absence of so many silky sharks and silvertip sharks that we expected to see. I was also surprised to see but a single species of Parrotfish, the bicolor parrotfish (Scarus rubroviolaceus). There are as many as six different species at other eastern Pacific island locations, but here we saw but one. Other common fishes were absent and I will soon be e-mailing a flurry of messages and questions to colleagues at the University of Costa Rica, the Smithsonian, and California museums in Los Angeles and La Jolla.

I was also interested to see how the 1997/1998 El Niņo/Southern Oscillation event had affected Cocos. The elevated water temperatures had dramatically altered the fish and invertebrate life of Galapagos such that many individuals died and some species might have become locally extinct. Apparently, Cocos Island wasn’t noticeably affected . The few coral species seemed alive and well and the attached barnacles and other crustaceans and mollusks had not been "cooked" as happened elsewhere in the eastern Pacific. The ocean is of course a dynamic system, but I only wish that better data concerning the kinds and abundance of creatures during a "normal" year existed, so that comparisons could be made. Our own film and specimen data will provide some assistance to future studies by scientists concerned with the natural and man-caused changes in this environment.

So, with fishes in hand I depart for San Francisco and the California Academy of Sciences where I will spend the winter examining fish under the microscope, sharing specimens and information with colleagues in America, Costa Rica, and beyond. I hope that Michael and the crew of the Starship, somewhere across the sea, aren’t awakened by our shouts of joy and Eureka! with each new discovery.

Ichthyologically yours, and glad to have been aboard Starship,