Scientists tracking tiger sharks across the Bahama Banks mapped a seagrass system of up to 92,000 km², larger than any known on Earth and a carbon store of global consequence. Most of it is turtle grass, and it does quiet, unglamorous work. It holds the sediment down, keeps the water clear enough for the reef to photosynthesise, and feeds the green turtles and queen conch that in turn feed the country.

Mangroves guard its edges. Red, black and white mangrove stand between the meadow and the land, take the first hit from every storm, and shelter the young snapper, grouper and spiny lobster that later fill the reef. We map and protect the wetlands and meadows that shelter Bahamian communities, starting with the creeks that have already been cut, filled or dredged.

Turtle grass grows back slowly: a propeller scar cut by a single boat running aground can take a decade or more to heal over, if it heals at all. Marking channels clearly and working with boat operators to keep them off the flats is unglamorous work, but it protects more acreage per dollar than almost anything else we do.

A meadow is also a nursery most people never see under the surface. Spiny lobster spend their first weeks as nearly transparent postlarvae drifting in from the open ocean before settling into the seagrass to grow, and they stay there, hidden, for a year or more before they ever reach the reef most fishers associate them with.