13 the evidence of degradation is clear. Fishers reminisce about spearfishing in waters where visibility exceeded 120 feet; now, volcanic ash has reduced that clarity to a mere one or two feet after heavy rains. This uncertainty highlights the urgent need for a comprehensive scientific understanding of our marine ecosystems and the ongoing impacts of volcanic activity. Geographically, Montserrat does not have any major estuaries, or lagoons of mangrove habitat, which are critical for fish species to spawn and provide a safe habitat for juvenile fish to grow larger. Yet, like every other Big Ocean State and Territories it faces the uncertainties of today's most existential threat – climate change! Another view of The Ocean’s Breath, Montserrat. Dive Site: Plymouth, an eerie and desolate terrain created by The Soufrière Hills volcano. In the late 1980s and early 90s, the Government of Montserrat constructed an artificial reef at Isles Bay/ Garibaldi. This reef was just beginning to support various fish species and allow them to form schools and populate adjacent fishing grounds when the eruptions began in 1997 and continued until 2010. The devastation was immense, rendering more than two-thirds of the island's landmass uninhabitable and causing further destruction to the surrounding reefs, which became buried under volcanic mud and rock debris. Fishers like Captain Howes expressed their concerns that these eruptions likely killed millions of fish and crustaceans, leading to significant economic losses for Montserrat’s fishing industry. Unfortunately, due to this ongoing disaster, the artificial reef has been neglected and received no maintenance since 1997, stalling any potential recovery. Working alongside the fishers, I started an eco-tour business called AQUA Montserrat, which by 2014 birthed a non-profit — Fish N Fins Inc. — focused on teaching kids to swim, snorkel, and engage in marine science. In this capacity, I have witnessed the gradual recovery of marine life. Each free-dive and each reef patrol became a revelation; I was no longer just an observer but a participant in the story of our underwater world. The vibrant colours of the corals and the playful fish that danced around me filled me with awe and renewed my sense of purpose. New coral colonies are being rebuilt millimetre by millimetre, and I have come to believe that when left alone, nature will heal itself. Engaging with local fishers provided further insights into the delicate balance between human activity and marine ecosystems. They shared their concerns about fish stocks, sedimentation moving with the currents and potentially continuing to smother reefs, and fish noticeably moving to cooler waters. I understood their deep desire to further explore what lies beneath the surface, participate in science, and answer the question of where the fish have gone. They seek out more lucrative fishing grounds or innovations that could reduce • Continues on next page
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