"Wow, it’s really hot" was probably the most repeated phrase on our boat during our trip to Sudan. We used it to bond, reassure each other, and laugh through the extreme conditions. Visiting Sudan in August—without a functioning air-conditioning—was humbling. It was the first time we could truly empathize with corals in our warming seas. Unlike Mamoun and Osman, the local guides, we were unprepared for Sudan's intense heat. While they worked through the day, drinking hot coffee and fruit juice, we struggled: dehydrated, exhausted, and eventually sick.
The state of the corals mirrored our condition. Our first dive nearly brought tears to Cisco’s eyes. As a dive guide in Sudan for almost 15 years, he was heartbroken by the drastic decline in reef health since his last dive here two years ago. According to Dr. Helena Villela, a coral researcher at KAUST in Saudi Arabia, the Red Sea is experiencing its worst mass-bleaching event ever documented, with an estimated 80% of corals already dead. Our underwater observations confirmed her findings extended to Sudan. The corals along the steep walls looked as if they were melting. With water temperatures at 33°C, we were sweating even underwater, trying to escape the 42°C heat above. While we had the ability to seek relief—taking shade, standing in front of a fan, or pouring ice water on our heads—the corals were not so fortunate.
One day, while searching for dugongs with the local fishermen, we stopped in a shallow bay. In knee-high water, we found some of the healthiest brain corals we had ever seen. Screeching with excitement, we explored further and discovered vibrant micro-ecosystems with small fish, anemones, and even a cuttlefish. Despite the high temperatures, little water movement, and harsh sun, these shallow bay corals were thriving. We took water quality and eDNA samples, and though we can’t yet explain this bay’s resilience scientifically, we have a theory.
The deeper corals, most likely accustomed to cooler currents, are like us foreigners in Sudan—unaccustomed to the extreme heat and stressed by prolonged exposure. The longer we stayed in the heat, the more vulnerable we became, with crew members succumbing one by one. In contrast, the thriving corals in the bay reminded us of Mamoun and Osman; acclimated to the heat, they were resilient and seemingly unaffected by the conditions. This raises a question: Should we focus less on quick fixes like ice baths, which only offer temporary relief, and more on understanding how Mamoun, Osman, and these corals thrive in such heat? Maybe these little corals and the generations of communities who have learned to adapt hold the answers for the struggling majority? Sudan has sparked our curiosity and prompted new lines of inquiry that we’ll continue to explore with researchers on our expedition.
Ellen Myers