Annabel Cooper explores the hidden wonders of Hungary Bay’s intertidal forest through the eyes of of two dedicated conservationists.
Down on the shores of Hungry Bay, a stone’s throw from the busy south shore and City of Hamilton, is one of Bermuda’s natural last stands – a large mangrove forest which protects the shoreline from the coastal elements and provides a vital habitat for a huge variety of aquatic, insect and bird life.
Guiding me through the Hungry Bay nature reserve are environmentalists Rosalind (Roz) Wingate and Nick Coelho. Passionate about conservation education, Wingate is the science technician at Warwick Academy and spends much of her summer taking excited children on mangrove field trips during her Hungry Goat Summer Camp. Coelho is the Micro Forest officer at the Bermuda Zoological Society (BZS) who has been spearheading the replanting of mangroves at Hungry Bay as part of the Hungry Bay restoration project.
“Part of the micro forest is trying to bring back biodiversity around Bermuda and that includes these mangrove forests. There’s a lot of organisms that use the mangrove forest as a nursery breeding ground. A lot of birds, a lot of crustaceans. Fish are a huge part of the whole ecosystem,” he explains.
The irony about mangrove forests, however, is that their hostile environment makes them botanically “very boring,” laughs Wingate. In Bermuda, there are two species of mangrove, red and black, both of which grow in abundance at Hungry Bay. Together, they play host to a huge assortment of large, small and microscopic life. This includes mangrove periwinkles, coffee bean snails, giant land crabs, land hermit crabs, mangrove crabs, killifish, migratory birds, sea squirts, isopods and numerous insects. The mangrove forests themselves are wondrous structures to behold. The red mangroves typically in front, their numerous prop roots resembling giant interlocking spider legs, and then the black mangroves behind with their relatively straight trunks and pneumatophores resembling dark stalagmites growing out of the peat. These act like snorkels bringing in oxygen and radiating wide distances around the tree.
At Hungry Bay, a canal leads through the mangroves, giving the place a mythical-like feel as you swim into what feels like a thick “forbidden forest” with fish scurrying beneath, kiskadees calling, mourning doves cooing and shards of sunlight reflecting from the water to the leaves above. Every now and then a couple of ducks swim by or a green heron takes flight: “Green herons are interesting because they’re a new native,” explains Wingate. “They would always migrate here and move on. They never nested here, but in the late 90s, somebody found a nest, so it’s a migratory species that’s decided to start nesting here. As it got here without man, it would be considered a native species.” Other birds that use the mangrove ecosystem include the white ibis and yellow-crowned night heron.
Photo by Meredith Andrews
Adding to the mystical feel at the entrance to the mangroves are brightly coloured carpet anemones and parrotfish. Darting about on the surface are what Wingate describes as “little water striders,” which are a previously undocumented mangrove species called Mesovelia. These were one of two undocumented species discovered by a young man called Luke Foster, during Wingate’s summer camp. “The other is a little cricket that lives in the mangroves,” she explains. The cricket is in the species Cycloptilum rigonipalpum. In addition to playing host to all these different species, mangroves benefit the environment by sequestering huge amounts of carbon. “All this layer that we’re standing on is a peat, humic, marsh layer. This is sediment that’s been trapped here over time and slowly rotted down,” explains Coelho. “Mangroves are a huge carbon source. When they drop their leaves, it sinks into this layer and decomposes and refeeds them.” They estimate that the peat layer is “easily six feet down” and could be as deep as three metres in some parts.
Not only do they store carbon, but mangroves also protect the shoreline from the impact of storms, which is increasingly important as hurricanes become stronger and more frequent. The prop roots of the red mangroves “help to disperse all the waves,” he continues. The prop roots are also how the red mangroves spread. “They’ll walk themselves forward”, says Wingate, conjuring up more mystical visions, this time of JRR Tolkein’s Ents—the human-like trees in The Lord of the Rings. As the prop roots hit the water, says Coelho, “they’ll branch off to the side and that sends the energy elsewhere to restart the whole process again.” Once the root plants into the peat, there is no access to oxygen. In order to respire therefore, they have pores called lenticels higher up which supply oxygen to the buried roots.
Photo by Roxy Crockwell-Laurent
Another fascinating way both red and black mangroves have adapted to their coastal environment is their ability to eliminate salt. “They have glands on the tops of their leaves, which can exude salt,” says Wingate. “There’s crystals on the surface of the leaves. If it’s been very dry for a period of time and you lift the tops of the leaves, they’re crusty on top. You can actually lick it,” they laugh. “When it rains, it all washes off.” As we float through, Wingate spots a mangrove periwinkle on one of the prop roots. “These guys are awesome,” she smiles. Her favourite feature is their strong, thick mucus: “This is the only periwinkle that has such thick mucus. If they get dislodged off the branch, the mucus sticks to it and they can dangle off and they can crawl back up it.”
Attached to the roots below the water’s surface are colourful purple and orange sponges. “Hundreds of different species, they come in every colour of the rainbow,” declares Wingate. These roots also provide a shelter in which fish can lay their eggs. Bermuda’s mangroves are “the last relic stand of the land hermit crabs as well,” adds Coelho. “We actually have a giant land hermit crab that not a lot of people know that we have.” These occupy the intertidal zone and use West Indian topshells as their home. West Indian topshells were successfully reintroduced to Bermuda by Wingate’s father, Dr David Wingate, during the 1960s, along with the yellow-crowned night heron and killifish.
“There’s a lot of crabs in the mangroves that are dedicated mangrove species,” adds Wingate, citing the red mangrove crab with its bright red claws, the little spotted mangrove crab and a dark mangrove crab. These graze on the algae that primarily grows on the roots of the red mangroves. Another species that relies on the algae which swim beneath us in abundance are the brown and yellow coco damselfish. “They’re very territorial little fish,” she explains. “The female lays the eggs, the male guards them quite aggressively. They farm little fields of algae. They keep the sediment out of it and allow the algae to grow and they lay their eggs in amongst this little field.”
Photo by Luke Foster
Photo by Roxy Crockwell-Laurent
Photo by Luke Foster
Mangrove Restoration
In spite of their innate ability to withstand the hostile coastal environment, the impact of climate change, such as rising sea levels and stronger storms, has had a devastating effect on the Hungry Bay mangroves, significantly reducing the forest’s size. This was exacerbated in 2003 after Hurricane Fabian destroyed a large part of the rock that had been protecting the area from much of the wave energy, intensifying the erosion. The shores of Hungry Bay are now littered with the stumps of dead mangroves. After a successful fundraising campaign by the Hungry Bay Restoration Committee, however, a concrete seawall was constructed and in June 2024, replanting began under the auspices of the BZS Micro Forest project. First they added a debris line to build up the silt and soil area and then they planted juvenile mangroves, grown in the Trunk Island nursery.
Their first test came in August 2024 with Hurricane Ernesto. Of the 265 juveniles planted, 72 survived. This led to new ideas about how to better protect them. “Conservation is very much a marathon, not a sprint,” says Coelho. “We’re doing work right now to think of different methods.” He estimates it takes around five to ten years for mangroves to grow a strong enough root mass to withstand hurricanes and he is considering moulds, not dissimilar to longtail igloos, or PVC tubes to better protect the young trees. He also plans to plant red mangroves higher up, further away from the shoreline. As they grow, they will “walk themselves forward” to find the water.
Even with the erosion, storm damage and rebuilding, this area of Hungry Bay is still teaming with life. The newly built seawall is littered with huge West Indian topshells. Coelho finds a conch shell and Wingate shows me some tiny tricolour hermit crabs, named after the French flag because of their red, white and blue legs. If you’re lucky, you can spot the larger red and purple endemic Verrill’s hermit crab.
As we walk back from the seawall to the shore, we are watched by a magnificent osprey perched on the highest mangrove branch, no doubt waiting for us to stop disturbing all the fish it wants to hunt.
