Chapter 2~ Samantha
I
should start at the beginning. My name is Samantha. I’m fourteen,
and I live with Mom and my brother Jerry. I was born in 2035, eight
years before the rising sea flooded the Atlantic coastline forcing
mass evacuations. Some cities, like Miami, are now part of the ocean
floor. The flood covered our house on Georgia’s coast, so we lived in our
car for a while until we landed in a temporary tent city outside Savannah.
Back then, all I wanted in life was a dry bed and regular meals. At the
time, that was a lot to ask.
I didn’t get a bed in the camp, but I did get a dry sleeping bag. It was
better than trying to sleep in the car. Jerry was only four, and he shared
a mattress with Mom and Dad. The camp was crowded, loud, and hot. I
spent most nights awake listening to kids crying. Some days we got a
hot meal, but mostly it was peanut butter sandwiches and a milk box. I
missed Mom’s cooking. We didn’t know how long we would be at the
camp or where we would go next.
Then the Reef Restoration project recruited Dad as a biologist and
Mom to record data on tides, currents, water temperature, and pH. They
gave us a modular house on an island five miles off the mainland at a
field station named Georgia Coastal Habitat Ten. It was great to have a
place of our own again. The house was on the highest part of the island
and raised on a platform. You needed to climb the stairs to get to the
place, but you could see the ocean once you did. I had my own bed, and Mom cooked our meals. My school was online, which suited me just fine.
We lived at Coastal Habitat Ten for eighteen months. Long enough for it
to feel like home. Long enough to feel safe.
But the water started rising again. At first, there were just a few high
tides where the ground under the house got wet. Then, it got worse.
Sometimes there was so much water that fish were swimming under the
house. I couldn’t stop crying when they said we had to move. Dad tried
to make me feel better. He said the Institute would take care of the move.
But I started waking up in the middle of the night, thinking we were back
at the tent camp and couldn’t get back to sleep. Mom started taking me
to a doctor for depressed kids on the mainland.
The Institute gave us boxes for our clothes and personal stuff a week
before we were to move. We packed our boxes and had them ready when
they came. They dismantled our house and moved it to another island.
Mom described the houses as “KISS” (Keep It Simple Silly). The house
had waterproof polymer panels for walls, floors, and ceilings. They
unbolted the pieces and took everything to the new location. So our new
house is really our old house, just in a new place.
I wanted to visit our old island and reef, but Dad said no. He said the
island would soon be under water. When I asked about visiting the reef
flat, he said it was already too deep. We would need to use SCUBA. He
looked sad, saying no. I think it hurt him a lot when he lost his reef.
But things were different at Coastal Eleven. I was older, and Mom and
Dad let me pick colors for curtains and make choices about arranging the
furniture. Mom took me around the island, showing me all the places
to explore. Dad started taking me out on the reef with him. We’d walk
off the shore, and soon we were knee-deep in water on the reef flat. In
under an hour, we were in the lagoon, swimming around sea fans, soft
corals, and small coral heads. The lagoon was so shallow that I could
stand with my head above water, at least at low tide. Going out to the
lagoon with Dad and seeing the corals made me remember what it was like to be happy.
Didn’t you know there were coral reefs in Georgia? Well, they haven’t
been here long. Corals reproduce by sending eggs and sperm into the
ocean—the larvae travel with the currents. The Georgia corals moved
here from Florida. With the seas getting warmer, they could settle and
start new reefs here in Georgia.
The bioengineered heat-tolerant corals saved the Florida reefs and
unexpectedly spread northward and deeper. Now Florida and Georgia
both have thriving reef systems. That is the good news. The bad news is
that much of Florida is now under water.
I think Dad loved reefs more than anything else. And after spending
time with him, I came to love them too. The reforestation and reef
restoration projects were part of a push to slow and reverse global warming. The hope was that robust and expanded reefs, with bioengineered
corals, would protect the mainland from storms and flooding. Corals
don’t just protect the mainland from wave action. They remove carbon
dioxide from the air when they build exoskeletons. Coral growth slows
climate change, so they are essential to everyone.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s great that reefs are good for the planet, but I
would love them anyway because they are just so beautiful. The colorful
fish are everywhere, and the soft and hard corals are amazing. I had a
hard time believing Dad when he told me they are animals because they
look more like plants. My favorite coral is purple and takes the shape
of fingers. It’s called Porites furcate, or purple finger coral. The lagoon
floor looks like a garden of flowers with yellow, green, and purple sea
fans (soft corals) waving in the current. Dad taught me not to touch any
corals because touching them can give them diseases. He said I should
never step on them and taught me to stay on the patches of sand. It took
a lot of concentration to learn how to avoid stepping on coral, but I do it
instinctively now.
We were on the reef almost every day back then. But in 2045, there was an outbreak of dengue fever. Dengue is spread by mosquitoes, and
it seemed like everyone was getting sick. We used repellent and tried to
stay inside at dawn and sunset when the mosquitoes were really biting,
but Dad got sick. The hospital was so crowded that his bed was in a
hallway instead of a room. He died five days later.
When Dad died, I lost my teacher and my best friend. Now, what helps
me most is going out on the reef flat. When I’m on the reef, I feel like
I’m with Dad. I can almost hear his voice telling me the names of corals
and tropical fish. Being on the reef makes me feel less alone and less sad.
I promised to stay on the reef flat or in the lagoon, in the section close
to shore (although sometimes I’m not all that close.) I had to work on
Mom, but she gave in, and now she lets me go out on my own.
Dad died two years ago. I still spend most of my time on the reef
studying marine life. I do my online schoolwork, but it doesn’t compare
to what I’m learning on the reef. I’m keeping detailed journals on
everything I see. Everyone calls me a science geek. It’s true. I get busy
with ocean stuff and forget to show up for meals. Mom fusses at me
because I’m too skinny. It’s not that I don’t get hungry. I just sometimes
forget to come in.