Thoughts on ZoukOut 2008

I had a splendid time at this year's ZoukOut, partying all night long until well past 7 a.m. today.

But even in the midst of all the hedonistic debauchery, as I danced along to the music in a state of euphoria, I couldn't avoid thinking about the possible environmental impact of massive events like this.

I wonder if the noise has any long-lasting adverse effects on the animals living nearby in the forest and in the sea. Does the loud music cause them any distress? Underwater World is also situated quite close to where ZoukOut was held, and the animals in the aquaria can't really swim away to escape the noise. Or are all of these creatures already acclimated to such nocturnal disturbances, given that this was only the most recent mega-party to take place on this stretch of beach?

Such impacts on the local wildlife are difficult if not impossible to determine, short of going snorkeling during ZoukOut and seeing if all the fish are fleeing for deeper water. But other impacts are more readily observed.

It was impossible not to notice the vast amount of disposable items used during the event. From the plastic bracelet that was snapped onto everyone's wrist once they'd entered, to the promotional flyers advertising Rip Curl discounts for ZoukOut attendees, I wondered just how much resources went into manufacturing items that would be thrown away by the end of the event. The most obvious example would have been the plastic cups that the drinks were served in. Of course, it makes life much easier for the staff, since they don't have to fight through the crowds to retrieve glasses and jugs, and besides, it does make the party safer for everyone (no worries about stepping on broken glasses with your bare feet), but I wonder if anyone out of the 26,000 partygoers reused their cups.

In the morning, as I was preparing to leave, it was easy to see all the litter that was strewn all over the beach. From flattened plastic cups and empty bottles of water, to plastic bags, lightsticks, half-deflated noisemakers, cigarette butts, pieces of tissue paper and even the odd slipper, I couldn't help thinking about the horrific mess, and the backbreaking work that lay ahead for those tasked to do the cleaning up. While the event organisers did install walls of netting that prevented the trash from falling into the sea (and stopped drunk people from drowning themselves), I hope none of the litter was picked up by the wind and blown over the barriers. Considering that I'd just helped out the day before at a walk organised by the Naked Hermit Crabs on a stretch of shore a very short distance away, it was a little upsetting to think about the possible effects that it would have on the marine environment.

I dare not calculate the carbon footprint for ZoukOut; the amount of fossil fuels that went into powering the lights and sound systems for just that one night must have been quite high. And then one must factor in all the fuel and other resources that went into the production and transportation of items used during the event, from the lanyard that everyone received, which came with a basic survival guide and lightstick attached, to all the bottles of soft drinks that were consumed. Take into account the fact that many of the people there at ZoukOut had flown in from overseas, and the carbon footprint increases even more.

A truly ironic moment came when Above & Beyond was spinning, and everyone had their arms and lightsticks in the air, singing along to Miracle by Oceanlab.

The DJs who make up Above & Beyond purchase carbon offsets to reduce the impact of their international tours and releases, and Miracle is probably the first (and only) tune by a trance act that attempts to inspire active effort to combat climate change. Yet at that point in time, seeing people around me flicking used cigarette butts to the ground, or tossing empty plastic cups to be crushed underfoot, I wondered if the lyrics of the song were lost on many of those in the audience:

Are you hoping for a miracle
As the ice caps melt away
No use hoping for a miracle
There's a price we'll have to pay

If there's any consolation, it appeared that the vast majority of people depended on public transport to enter and leave Sentosa. Part of the reason must have been the increased entrance fees for those entering by car and taxi, as well as the increase in parking fees for the public carparks closest to Siloso Beach. Of course, it made the ride on the Sentosa Express a lot squeezier than usual, but at least it was only for a few minutes.

Clouds had been building up for several hours, and there wasn't any sunrise to admire. When I reached VivoCity, it began to pour. I hope the barriers did their job, and that the rain didn't wash any of the trash into the sea.

Regardless of all these worries and concerns, I did enjoy myself tremendously, and it's highly likely that I'll be attending ZoukOut in subsequent years. But at the same time, I can't help but think about the ethical quandary I find myself in. Most of the time, I try my best to advocate sustainable use of the Earth's limited resources. Yet here I am, willingly taking part in an event that abets the consumption of staggering amounts of fossil fuels, leads to the generation of huge quantities of litter, and possibly causes some disturbance to the terrestrial and marine fauna living in nearby habitats. At best, you can call it cognitive dissonance. At worst, you can call it hypocrisy.

Come December 31st, yet another mega-party will be held on Siloso Beach. It probably won't be as massive as ZoukOut, but the problems will be the same. I do wonder if there's a better way to organise and operate these events, so as to reduce the carbon footprint and the amount of trash produced. It's an area that I think is deserving of further exploration. After all, everyone's free to party like there's no tomorrow (anyone recall that rave scene in The Matrix Reloaded?), but there has to be a way to ensure that the environmental costs are minimised as much as possible.

Siloso: seagrass and sea stars

After my first seagrass monitoring session over at Tanjung Rimau, I decided to stay around and explore more of Siloso Beach. The tide was still low enough, and I thought that there more marine life might be out and about after dark. I headed for the bridge that would bring me to one of the islets across the lagoon. And before I had even started to cross the bridge, I found this ghost crab (Ocypode ceratophthalmus). This is the first time I've ever found one on Siloso Beach itself. These crabs are actually quite common on our beaches and sandy shores, but are very shy and come out only at night.

I was hoping that this would be a sign of all the exciting discoveries that lay ahead.

In the shallows, I see shoals of small fish, mostly young Kops' glass perchlet (Ambassis kopsii) and crescent perch (Terapon jarbua). They're too quick for me to even contemplate taking a photograph of them.


Here among the rocks, it looks as if the nerites are out in full force; they're crawling all over the place. I think these are Nerita undata.


Here's a nerite and a sea slater (Ligia sp.) close together.


I've seen reef spiders (Desis sp.) many times on the coral rubble of Tanjung Rimau, but this is the first time I've seen one here in this lagoon. This one seems to have captured some sort of isopod.


I think this snail is Chicoreus torrefactus, a predator that feeds on bivalves by drilling a small hole into the shell of its prey.


There's zoanthids growing beneath this rock.


Young halfbeaks (F. Hemirhamphidae) can be seen near the surface.


It's slightly easier to sneak up on mudskippers at night. This one's probably a dusky-gilled mudskipper (Periophthalmus novemradiatus).


Whelks (Nassarius livescens) are commonly found patrolling the sand, but I wasn't expecting to find a live pearl conch (Laevistrombus canarium).


I've been finding sand collars regularly, but have yet to find any moon snails on this shore. Sand collars are the egg masses of moon snails, and are a mixture of mucus and sand.


Close to the floating bridge, I'm shocked to stumble upon a small patch of spoon seagrass (Halophila ovalis)!

This is the most common species of seagrass found in Singapore, but I'm amazed that it manages to eke out a precarious existence in the murky waters of this lagoon.


The bridge provides plenty of hiding places for young fish. The one on the left should be a young silver moony (Monodactylus argenteus), but I'm not so sure about the one on the right.


Every time I explore this bridge, I manage to spot purple climber crabs (Metopograpsus sp.).


Among the rocks on one end of the islet, I discover not one, but two hard corals!


Here's a gang of tidal hermit crabs (Diogenes sp.), inhabiting an assortment of snail shells. I see creeper snails (Batillaria zonalis), three species of whelks (Nassarius livescens, N. crenoliratus and N. pullus), as well as a few drills (F. Muricidae). One way of finding out what snails live in an area is to check out what the hermit crabs are wearing.


Swimming crabs (Thalamita sp.) and juvenile flower crabs (Portunus pelagicus) are often found in the shallows.


Not often seen though, are moon crabs. I'm not sure if this is the spotted moon crab (Ashtoret lunaris).


Here's another amazing find. A flatworm, swimming away! My expertise in flatworms is lousy, but I guess this could be a species of Pseudobiceros.


I took a short video. Isn't it graceful? These beautiful worms normally crawl around on the seabed, but as you can see, they're also capable of swimming.

Apologies for the video quality; my skills are nowhere close to those of Andy. Almost immediately after I stopped recording, a tiny squid, possibly the same species as the one I found earlier on in the afternoon, swam past. Damn.

But the most exciting discovery of the night overshadows even the flatworm. Last May, I'd found common sea stars (Archaster typicus) in the shallows of this very same islet. You can see my submission of this discovery over on STOMP.

Today, I was hoping to find them again.


The tide is rising, and the water's getting murkier. Just as I'm about to give up, I find one, half-buried in the sand.

Yes!


Here's another look. It's good to know that there's still at least one common sea star surviving on this shore. I hope there's many more in the deeper parts of the lagoon.

And so, after having spent an entire afternoon and evening on Sentosa, I head for home, exhausted, but absolutely thrilled at all the amazing discoveries I've made today. Who knew that one could find seagrasses, hard corals, flatworms, and sea stars in these seemingly barren swimming lagoons? I'm really keen on exploring Siloso Beach during a really low tide, and see what other treasures I might find.

This is part 2 of a 2-part series on a trip to Siloso Beach on 17th October, 2008.

Part 1: Siloso suntan
Part 2: Siloso: seagrass and sea stars (this post)

Siloso suntan

Today, I returned to Siloso Beach, intent on getting properly tanned after the most recent session was ruined due to rain.

It's quite a soothing experience, chilling out by the beach and napping in the afternoon sun, and admiring beautiful girls walking past. But of course, it gets a little dull after a while, so I also spent some time exploring and looking out for marine life.

The beach is patrolled by numerous birds, among them common mynahs (Acridotheres tristis), Javan mynahs (Acridotheres javanicus) and spotted doves (Streptopelia chinensis), looking for tasty tidbits on the sand.


I noticed something odd about this particular spotted dove. Then I realised that it had no feet! The bird was shuffling around on stumps, but appeared to be in good shape. It didn't have any problems flying. I wonder what sort of unfortunate incident led to it losing its feet.

The sargassum (Sargassum sp.) that choked the beach on the previous visit had largely cleared up, although there were still clumps floating here and there. While I was swimming in the shallows, I came upon a juvenile halfbeak (F. Hemirhamphidae). Naturally, I didn't take any photographs, since I didn't have my camera at hand.


I found this pretty nerite shell on the beach. I have no idea which species it is; the common nerite species are highly variable, and I still have problems telling the various species apart.


At the end of Siloso Beach, close to where the Naked Hermit Crabs conduct their shore walks, there are these large rocks which form part of a breakwater. These rocks form a hiding place for plenty of marine creatures.


Such as small mudskippers. These are probably dusky-gilled mudskippers (Periophthalmus novemradiatus).


The beach here is also inhabited by sand bubbler crabs (Scopimera sp.).


They're not present in huge numbers, unlike on the islets across the lagoon, but there's still a pretty sizeaable colony.


There are plenty of drills on the rocks. This should be Thais bitubercularis, which is distinguished from its relatives by the presence of spines on its shell. Unfortunately, this species is highly variable, and there are individuals which lack the tubercles on their shells. In such a situation, according to A Guide to Common Seashells of Singapore, the species can 'be distinguished by the shape of the penes'. Well thanks a lot, that was certainly very helpful for identification in the field.


Tidal hermit crabs (Diogenes sp.) can be found here. The one on the left is wearing the shell of a lightning dove snail (Pictocolumbella ocellata), while the two in the other photo are wearing the shells of a drill (F. Muricidae), and an uncommon member of the top shell family called Euchelus atratus.


Here's a small group of live lightning dove snails.


This snail is a perfect match for the photos of Drupella concatenata in A Guide to Common Seashells of Singapore. The book states that it's a specialised predator of coral polyps, and that it's often found on Acropora or staghorn coral. Is this a sign that we've got corals growing amongst these rocks? Or maybe there's coral on the outside of the breakwater...


A juvenile halfbeak, the same species as the one I saw while swimming. It's easy to see why they're sometimes mistaken for floating rubbish.


Some sort of sea aquirt on the left, and the tube of some sort of worm on the right. Switching on the flash and taking photos inside these dark crevices reveals a lot of hidden life.


A tiny squid, just like the one I saw on the previous visit, swims into view, but proves too alert and too skittish to pose for decent photos.


I realise that the turban snails that I've been finding in these murky swimming lagoons are Turbo intercostalis. This species is also present on the rocky shore and coral rubble at Tanjung Rimau, along with its close relative Turbo bruneus.


I nearly miss this spotted top shell (Trochus maculatus), with its well-camouflaged shell, but I think my skills at finding these snails have been honed by practice on Tanjung Rimau.


Is this a sponge or a sea squirt?


I think this one's a sponge. I need to brush up on my sessile organisms.


Oh look, a small colony of zoanthids.


I find a mudskipper that's larger than the small ones I saw earlier on. I think it's a gold-spotted mudskipper (Periophthalmus chrysospilos).


High up on the rocks, clustered amongst the acorn barnacles (Balanus sp.), are countless tiny periwinkles (F. Littorinidae).

I had to go wash up and prepare for my first monitoring session with TeamSeagrass. But I knew that if the tide was still low enough after that, I would be back to check out more of Siloso Beach after dark.

Coming up: I explore one of the islets off Siloso Beach at night. What will I discover?

This is part 2 of a 2-part series on a trip to Siloso Beach on 17th October, 2008.

Part 1: Siloso suntan (this post)
Part 2: Siloso: seagrass and sea stars