Oil Spill Victim: Diary of a dying hermit crab

Gasping for breath, I tried to crawl out of the sea of dark oil that blanketed the sea around me. I could not decide whether to go to shore or farther out to sea, as I could hardly see anything. The heavy sticky substance clung to my outer shell like a disease.

I looked around and could hardly recognize the environment where I and my playmates – fellow hermit crabs – used to live freely. I thought of the good olds days when we played around the stems of the abundant mangroves in Barangay Lucmayan. Everyday, as we wallowed in the warm waters of the strait between Barangay San Roque and Taklong Islands, I could see the starfishes asserting dominance over their territories and small beautiful fishes dancing around the sea grasses. There were plenty of sea urchins bristling with spines, ready to impale any foot that dared step upon them. I visited these parts to bathe and wet my mouth so I can open it easily.

My name is Hermie. I am a hermit crab, a crustacean that counts up to 500 different species in the world. Most of us live on the ocean floor, but many live on land. I am a land-based female, and every time I breed I must return to the sea. I have 10 jointed legs; the two front legs have grasping claws called pincers or chelipeds and the rear pair of legs are very small. I have a sensory antenna, two years located at the end of stalks, and a soft twisted abdomen hidden inside the shell.

We are harmless creatures but can draw blood out of your skin if ever our safety is endangered. We like dark places because we are a bit shy and we often use hard shells of other dead crustaceans as our protective covering. We have rigid exoskeletons that do not grow as we grow big. Thus, we should shed if off every now and then, as we grow bigger. This is the process known as molting. Any limb lost during the molting will be regenerated in time.

Taklong-Tandog Marine Reserve is the safest place for my family and relatives, who have been in the area for many years. Some of our relatives have died, leaving hundreds of descendants. We live in harmony with human beings in the area because, generally, they take good care of our environment. Sometimes, I even hear them discuss how much they would like a protect us we can survive as a species.

I am a nocturnal creature and would rarely be seen during the day. But sometimes, when friends are around, I sleep at night. I like to live in temperatures ranging from 70 to 80 degrees Fahrenheit. Moisture is important for my survival.

I was born without a backbone and my inner parts are protected by a shell that is sometimes brittle, sometimes hard. But God gave us enough bodily protection to keep off predators. He also gave us colors from red to brown to purple, with strips, dots and other patterns. I have legs that can support me, a flat body, and two powerful grasping claws that help me in my search for food and defend myself from predators. Food includes plants and animals, and when these become scarce, I can also eat dead animals. It’s yucky to hear for humans, but nature gives us the mechanism to feed and cleanse ourselves.

It was one fateful day recently when I heard voices of both humans and crabs all astir about something terrible that happened. I smelled something unusual, like a rotten egg. I saw some of my relatives falling one by one, trying to look for something to hold on to. Some sought the roots of the mangroves, some crept under the stones and dark mess. I saw some people getting nearer to me and I crawled as fast as I can in fright. Somebody picked me up and I heard a lady calling him Director Julian Amador. I heard him say I needed to be cleaned of bunker oil that spilled from a cargo tanker.

His hands were warm, and he tried to soothe my tired body by gradually removing the bunker oil that had attached to my legs and mouth. But then, I felt death fast creeping over me.

Before dying, I want to tell this story because we, hermit crabs, are part of the chain of life that sustains all living things on earth. I may be a victim of an oil spill, but I cannot claim any compensation. I can only hope that the government agencies that are responsible for rehabilitating the environment, especially the terrestrial areas of Taklong-Tandog Marine Reserve, will do their job sincerely to save what is left of my species.

After all, there was an attempt to save me; it should be an assurance that the Department of Environment and Natural Resources will complete the job of restoring to healthy normalcy my place, your place, and our home. With this, I can face death more bravely.