By Rodney V Salm

Rodney Salm takes us on a 55-year journey that began as a boy in Moçambique through a life of extreme adventure spent in and under the ocean in polar regions and tropical seas, but principally among coral reefs in far-flung places. He chronicles his transition from plundering seas to conserving their precious bounty.

In those early years when there were no rules and the resulting freedom liberating, Rod drew heavily on self-reliance built from camping in the bush and along beaches. He learned to live off the sea, often sharing his speared fishes with sharks that harassed him as he hunted for his next meal.

During the first decades of his career, Rod worked alone under the seas and across deserts in foreign lands, learning his limits, encountering danger, and checking off another of his nine lives. This lifestyle exposed him to adventure and discovery, different people and beliefs systems, and engaging legends. In his own words: “I fell inextricably in love with the underwater world, especially corals, and came to realise that the damage done to them by humans around the world is not necessarily fatal or final. Coral reefs are vital living organisms, well able to recover from most harm humans and the climate can do to them. They just need to be given the chance.” That theme lies at the core of the enthusiasm and messages Rod shares in this book.

Crammed with adventure, pioneering conservation achievements, and field science, Rod chronicles the many challenges that often plagued but never deterred him. Even as heat stress resulting from global warming caused mass coral bleaching and mortality and confounded reef managers and scientists, he led the charge to find ways to address the issue. Again, in his own words: “In 1989 Oman was where the seed of reef resilience was planted in my mind. In 1998 Kenya and Seychelles were where it was watered. And in 1999 it germinated in Palau.” The result was adoption of resilience as an organising principle for coral reef conservation, first in Palau and over time around the world.

The book concludes with a firsthand account of Rod’s development of a groundbreaking method for rapid assessment and enhancement of coral health and resilience to address the challenges of climate change.

Combining vivid storytelling with practical insights, the book aims to inspire scientists, students, and nature enthusiasts—showing that science can be thrilling, adventurous, and impactful. It leaves us optimistic that we can take action to safeguard coral communities and enhance their resilience to global change.

About the Author
Rodney V Salm

Although now officially retired, I continue to pursue practical methods for the application of resilience principles to coral conservation. I am a member of the scientific advisory board of the Coral Triangle Center and emeritus adviser to The Nature Conservancy Micronesia Marine Program. In recent years I led a coral health and resilience assessment for African Parks in the Bazaruto Archipelago Nature Reserve in Mozambique.

On April 4th and 5th, 2025, I visited the Reserva Provincial Cabo Vírgenes (Pinguinera) in Patagonia, which is, to my knowledge, a protected area serving as a breeding colony for Magellanic penguins.

I was shocked to find countless dead penguins around the fenced area and along the beach. The live animals that remained appeared very frightened.

I wonder what could be the reason for such a mass death. There were both old and young penguins—some seemed to have died only recently, while others were already more or less mummified or reduced to skeletons.

It was, in fact, a very sad and shocking sight.

We saw that there were large methane gas extraction plants in the immediate vicinity of the breeding colony, and drilling rigs a little further out to sea.

I read in a publication dated 2007 that there was another incident in this region following an oil spill: https://delfinaustral.com/mar_limpio/publicaciones/EOW07%20VRuoppolo-3%20Cabo%20OK%201.pdf

However, from what I could see, the penguins were not oiled.

I also found a bullet casing on the beach, alarmingly close to the penguin remains. One penguin appeared to have been struck in the head with a rock, lying in a position that suggested trauma. While it’s impossible to draw immediate conclusions, the presence of a bullet casing and signs of injury raise unsettling concerns that some of these deaths may not have been natural.

I have already contacted several organizations, including the Consejo Agrario Provincial de Santa Cruz (CAP), IFAW, and Fundación Vida Silvestre Argentina.

There is an urgent need to understand the reasons for this mass die-off and to find a solution that will not endanger the lives of the remaining Magellanic penguins.

Costa Rica is one of the few countries I’ve returned to repeatedly over the last twenty or so years. Each visit has reinforced why this small Central American nation continues to hold a special place in my heart. As a conservationist, I’ve long admired its bold environmental policies, its ability to restore vast areas of degraded land, and the extraordinary biodiversity that thrives here. But what draws me back just as strongly is the feeling that Costa Rica gives you: the quiet assurance that another world is possible, one where people and nature can coexist with purpose and respect.

I had the chance to experience Costa Rica in a new way, traveling with three generations of my family. My husband, my sister and her family, and our aging parents all came together for what we knew would be a once-in-a-lifetime trip. My sister chose Costa Rica not only because of its beauty, but also because it felt manageable for a multigenerational vacation. It’s safe, accessible, and well set up for travelers of all ages. We also understood it would be expensive, but for the chance to travel together as a full family, the investment was worth it.

We started our journey in San José, where my husband and I stayed in a homestay with a Costa Rican grandmother. She greeted us with warmth, fed us incredible meals, and gave us our first taste, quite literally, of the hospitality this country is known for. From there, we headed to Quepos on the Pacific coast, where my sister had rented an Airbnb home. It was the perfect setup with a space for all of us to gather, cook, relax, and look out over a small deck that faced what appeared to be pure jungle. The view was mesmerizing. We later learned that only a few decades ago, the entire landscape had been logged and used for farmland or extraction. But thanks to Costa Rica’s climate and commitment to restoration, nature had returned with full force. You’d never know it had once been stripped bare.

Every morning, we gathered on that deck before sunrise with coffee in hand to watch the forest awaken. Birds darted through the trees: tanagers, flycatchers, motmots, flickering colors between the leaves. For a family of nature lovers, those quiet hours became some of the most meaningful and memorable moments of the entire trip.

Quepos gave us easy access to both the coast and the rainforest. We hiked in the nearby parks, explored waterfalls, we stumbled on eco-tours of chocolate-making, coffee farming, and sustainable agriculture. The excursions were varied and accessible. Canopy walks, guided nature trails, and small boat rides. Costa Rica’s dynamic geography from the mountains, coasts, volcanoes, and rainforests means you don’t have to travel far to experience completely different ecosystems.

Although my husband and I skipped diving this time to stay together as a family, we did take a longer boat ride to a more remote patch of primary forest. I believe we were on the edge of the Osa Peninsula or near Corcovado National Park, which is known as one of the most biologically intense places on Earth. The experience reminded me again how rare it is to be able to witness truly untouched rainforest.

Every meal we ate was exceptional. With such a strong agricultural foundation, the food was consistently fresh, flavorful, and locally grown. Pineapple, avocado, coffee, papaya, rice, and beans, all vibrant and prepared with pride. Costa Rica’s commitment to sustainable agriculture shows in the taste of what ends up on your plate.

Beyond the beauty and comfort, what continues to impress me most is Costa Rica’s national commitment to conservation. Despite being only about 51,000 square kilometers in size, Costa Rica is home to more than 500,000 species, about 5% of the world’s biodiversity, thanks to its location at the intersection of North and South America. The diversity includes iconic species like the resplendent quetzal (Pharomachrus mocinno), Baird’s tapir (Tapirus bairdii), jaguars (Panthera onca), and endangered sea turtles like the green sea turtle (Chelonia mydas), which nests on the Caribbean coast in places like Tortuguero National Park.

Costa Rica has not only preserved what it has, it has reversed damage from generations of less sustainable development. In the 1980s, deforestation was rampant, with forest cover reduced to about 21%. But thanks to a range of government policies, including the 1997 launch of the Payment for Environmental Services (PES) program, forest cover has increased to over 50% as of the 2010s, and as of 2022 forests covered approximately 60.1% of the country’s land area, according to the World Bank. The PES program rewards landowners for keeping forests intact, recognizing the economic value of ecosystem services such as carbon capture, water filtration, and biodiversity protection. Much of this work is administered through MINAE (the Ministry of Environment and Energy), and its subsidiary agencies like SINAC, FONAFIFO, and CONAGEBIO.

The country has also turned its attention toward marine conservation, with over 30% of its territorial waters now designated as marine protected areas (MPAs). These include coral reefs, mangroves, and marine corridors vital for species like sharks, whales, and sea turtles. Organizations like the MarViva Foundation have been instrumental in managing these MPAs, particularly around the Eastern Tropical Pacific.

Folks from Costa Rica, also called Ticos, have the reputation of being affectionately warm, proud, and deeply connected to the land. You quickly learn the phrase “Pura Vida” is more than a slogan. It’s a mindset, an expression of gratitude, resilience, and appreciation for life’s simple gifts. It’s said as a greeting, a farewell, a thank-you, and always with a smile.

Traveling here, you’ll find that Costa Rica is not only logistically easy, but emotionally and intellectually enriching. Whether you’re a solo traveler, a couple, or a multigenerational family like us, there’s something for everyone. The country is incredibly welcoming to people of all backgrounds, and it’s one of the safest places in Central America to visit.

If you’re planning a trip, the best advice is to decide what kind of experience you’re looking for. Do you want to immerse yourself in the jungle? Lounge on the beach? Explore volcanoes? Stay in a city and do day trips? Or do a bit of everything? There’s no single way to “do” Costa Rica. You can rent a car or rely on shuttle services. Stay in a city hotel, a remote eco-lodge, or a beachside Airbnb. It’s all possible.

Here are a few key regions to consider:

• Central Valley (San José and surroundings): Cultural sites, museums, and access to volcanoes and cloud forests.

• Pacific Coast (including Quepos and Manuel Antonio): National parks, beaches, and adventure tourism.

• Caribbean Coast (like Puerto Viejo and Tortuguero): Afro-Caribbean culture, nesting turtles, and rich biodiversity.

• Northern Plains (Arenal and La Fortuna): Hot springs, waterfalls, and volcanoes.

• Southern Zone (Osa Peninsula and Corcovado): Pristine rainforest, rare species, and incredible biodiversity.

VisitCostaRica.com is the official tourism website and a helpful starting point for researching regions, accommodations, and activities.

For us, this trip was a chance to reconnect, not just with each other, but with the natural world. Costa Rica has a way of doing that. When you’re surrounded by howler monkeys at dawn, or listening to rain fall onto leaves the size of couch cushions, or catching a glimpse of a toucan in flight, you remember what it feels like to be part of something ancient and alive.

And in a world where conservation so often feels like a losing battle, Costa Rica shows what can be achieved when a nation decides to prioritize nature, not just in words, but through action.