says. "That doesn't mean it's not under threat. Development is rampant here, as is overfishing. One of the largest restricted fishing areas in the world is right off our coast—8,000 square miles (21,000 square kilometers) to protect six rockfish species that were overfished."
Such a concept was unthinkable back in 1969 when Congress appointed the Stratton Commission to prepare the first report on the U.S. coastal zone, which subsequently laid the foundation for current coastal policies. The Stratton commissioners saw the ocean as a source of endless bounty, encouraging the federal government to build up U.S. fishing fleets and drill for oil and gas offshore. Some 40 years later, says Lubchenco, it has become painfully obvious just how finite marine resources are and how great a bite humans have taken out of them: 90 percent of the world's large pelagic fishes, like tuna, marlin, and sharks, gone; three-quarters of the world's major fisheries exploited, overfished, or depleted; and enough oil spilling out of U.S. cars to equal an Exxon Valdez-size spill every eight months. Nearly 150 dead zones now occur around the world, including one off the Oregon coast that first appeared in 2002 and that has recurred twice since. Most ominous of all, Lubchenco says, is that the oceans absorb fully half of all the CO2 released by humans—perhaps one of the greatest services the seas provide. But the vast amount of CO2 entering the oceans today is making them more acidic, which, combined with rising sea temperature, could have devastating consequences for anything with a shell or skeleton, essentially making them slower, thinner, and more susceptible to predation.
The good news is that marine systems can recover to a surprising degree if given the chance. Lubchenco and many of her colleagues are increasingly convinced that a network of marine reserves where sea creatures and habitats are permanently protected would be a powerful tool in restoring fisheries along the U.S. coasts. Studies of reserves in Merritt Island, Florida, and in California's Channel Islands have shown that such havens give female fish time to grow, and big fat females are the key. "The number of young a fish produces is a product of its volume," Lubchenco explains. "A vermilion rockfish this big"—she spreads her hands apart 14 inches (36 centimeters)—"produces 150,000 babies. One this big"—she moves her hands apart 24 inches (61 centimeters)—"produces 1.7 million. Ten of the little girls can't produce what one of the big girls can. It's true for invertebrates as well."
But the time to act, she says, is now. "There are more bizarre things happening in the ocean than we've ever seen before," including the first known failure of the spring northerly winds to blow off the Pacific Northwest coast, in 2005. The normally predictable winds drive a nutrient-rich upwelling just offshore; without the upwelling there was no food for the phytoplankton at the base of the food chain. The result was a mass die-off of cormorants, murres, and auklets, and extremely low fish catches all the way to Point Conception, California.
The alternative no one wants to consider is another fundamental ecological principle learned in the rocky intertidal zone: altered stable states. "That's when you tweak a system to such an extent it may not recover," says Lubchenco, leading to more harmful algal blooms, more dead zones, more fisheries collapse, more invasive species, and, oddly enough, massive blooms of jellyfish.
III. THE BIG DEVELOPER
In which Florida's largest private landholder decides to grow boomer communities instead of pine trees along a vast swath of the Panhandle
The first baby boomers turned 60 last January, the cutting edge of what will soon be the wealthiest, healthiest, and largest group of retirees the nation has ever seen, some 78 million strong. Imagine a tidal wave of fit, tanned, sixtysomethings crashing on the nation's shores every year.
That suits Peter Rummell just fine. The former real estate guru for Disney now calls the shots at the St. Joe Company, Florida's former pape