By Natalie May Sioco
If you grew up in Dumaguete, the sea is never something you “visit.” It is something you grow up attuned to. You sense its hums in the background of everyday life, in how markets and mornings seem one with the tide, and in how roads bend toward the coast.
Silliman University (SU) is familiar with this kind of proximity. As it dubs itself the “Campus by the Sea,” it recalls a long relationship of togetherness. That familiarity, however, can be deceptive. Even as the water remains glistening—lapping against the shore—what disappears underneath does not announce itself from above.
Coral reefs can erode quietly, until the very system that they support begins to fail. By that very time we notice, the question will no longer be what went wrong, but rather why we waited so long to respond.
That question urged a reframe in efforts for conservation from something we observed at a distance to something we acted upon. According to studies, coral reefs are declining at a fast rate because of coastal erosion, rising ocean temperatures, and human influence. This poses a threat to the ecosystems and communities that the coral reefs sustain.
In response to this ongoing crisis of reef decline, the SU Institute of Environmental & Marine Sciences (SU-IEMS) joined forces with an award-winning, female-founded start-up which aims to rebuild and regenerate degraded corals across the world. Rrreefs, an initiative backed by a Zurich-based Swiss corporation and a German non-government organization, works around the simple resolve to do something tangible while there is still time.
At the heart of this project are individuals who know that the work of restoration is less about recognition and more about responsibility. One such individual is Dr. Aileen Maypa, SU IEMS director and marine conservation advocate of Pew Charitable Trusts, a non-profit organization, who continues this work with a sense of clarity that is rooted in listening to the reefs and the communities that depend on them. Alongside her is Jhon Reimer Fajardo, a graduate student of MS Marine Biology who is learning not only how to research ecosystems but also how to remain with them.
This SU-IEMS and Rrreefs collaboration dates back to over a year ago, from the Milalunan Marine Sanctuary in Maria, Siquijor, where it installed its first artificial reef system. Modules made from 3D-printed clay that are non-toxic, pH-neutral, and designed in pieces that work with natural processes rather than to impose on them.
At first glance, it may seem that this choice is disarming. Considering that the world is trained to equate the progress with steel, choosing clay in these conditions feels almost counterintuitive.
However, clay does not carry an illusion for permanence. It cracks, softens, and erodes. And that is precisely the point. Its material does not impose a strict shape on life; it offers a suggestion. Like the crevices where corals may grip, texture where larvae may settle, and all in all space where life can decide whether to stay. This is then when waiting begins.
Waiting, it turns out, is the hardest part of conservation. It requires self-control in a domain that is frequently driven by outcomes, and also in research participants who are willing to return not once but several times. These are when efforts often go unseen for every six months. As the reefs are continuously revisited by a team that reflects the community it serves.
Rrreefs researchers work alongside local fisherfolk, municipal divers from Maria, Siquijor, members of the Coastal Conservation & Education Foundation, and scientists from SU-IEMS, ensuring that monitoring becomes a shared work rather than a delegated responsibility.
“Collaborations like this are important because many reefs can no longer recover on their own, and understanding how to support that recovery is essential not only for the reefs, but for the communities that depend on them,” Fajardo says.
Today, hundreds of young corals have settled on the clay modules. They are not extravagant in size. They do not announce any revolutionary success. But they persist. And persistence, in these damaged ecosystems, is a powerful start. It tells us that recovery is not impossible, just patiently waiting within arms reach.
What this collaboration leaves behind is not a finished story. It is a posture. One that chooses patience over spectacle, presence over performance.
In a city raised by water and a university shaped beside it, the work that happens beneath the surface is a reminder that care does not always announce itself. Sometimes, it settles gently, returns consistently, and trusts that, given enough time, the sea will answer back.
