I took these photographs this morning, Monday, 8 December 2025. A few warm days of settled weather, little cloud cover and low tides in the hottest part of the day have led to some early bleaching on our reef. Bleaching doesn’t always mean death for our corals, but it is concerning to have this so early in the summer season. Fingers crossed the conditions don’t last and the reef can recover.

This is a thank-you note. Five years after my first Out on a swim post – written with zero marine science quals and a head full of questions – I’m still in the water, now as a PhD candidate, because an extraordinary mix of locals, volunteers, researchers and public servants decided to share what they knew. This is the story of how nature – and a very patient community – became my teachers.

From Miami to Fiji, from Dubai to tiny village harbours on atolls, dredging near coral reefs has left a long trail of scars – even on ‘small’ projects. This follow-up to last week’s Kingston post walks through real examples of what happened elsewhere, and what that should make us think about before we dig up our own reef.

How much risk are we really taking with the planned dredging at Kingston Pier – and how much protection do our corals actually have on paper? This piece walks through what the federal approval does and doesn’t guarantee, explains why sediment and light matter so much to the reef, and asks the hard questions we need answered before we trade a deeper channel for a shallower future.

After the long dry spell, the lagoon was crystal clear and full of life. But with the return of the rains, something else has returned too – the brown, filamentous mats of Lyngbya. It’s not seaweed, it’s a cyanobacterium, and when it takes hold it smothers coral and rubble alike. The reef’s way of showing us that every drop of water, from tank to tide, is connected.

Ever seen a sea urchin that seems to glow blue from the shadows? That’s Diadema savignyi showing off its reef shimmer. Beautiful, a little spiky, and definitely not to be messed with.

If ever a sea slug was channeling the 1970s, it’s Halgerda willeyi. With its groovy orange lines and chocolate-brown bumps, it looks straight out of a vintage lounge suite – the kind with shag pile carpet and bold floral cushions. Proof that nature was nailing retro design long before humans caught on.

This Haddon’s anemone has been quietly living in the middle of Norfolk Island’s Emily Bay for years, bleaching and recovering with the seasons. Like corals, sea anemones host microscopic algae that provide most of their food. When stressed by heat or rainfall changes, they lose colour – and tell a story about seasonal changes to the weather.

September is Biodiversity Month – the perfect time to celebrate the astonishing variety of life on Norfolk Island’s reef. From new fish sightings to coral mosaics, every observation is a reminder of how much there is still to learn and protect.

Read more about why biodiversity matters, globally and right here in our lagoon.