In last week’s account of the bright-red crabs of Christmas Island, we considered the distance and difficulties of their annual migration and how some die along the way. Regardless of the tragedies, there are so many that the loss of even a large number is hardly noticeable. It is estimated that about a million of them die each year, but the successful millions upon millions carry on.
Other hazards are waiting for them too, even when they are close to the ocean. A paved road circles that part of the island. There are so many crabs on the road that motorists cannot avoid running over great numbers. This often turns out to be tough on the motorists too, for the sharp, tough claws puncture and flatten many tires. As the tires are being changed, the millions of red crabs click right along as if nothing is going to stop them.
Here and there they come to stairs; they just drop from one step to the next. Tennis courts, golf greens, swimming pools, chain fences -nothing stops these ocean-bound travelers.
Finally they reach the ocean’s sandy beaches. There the males, who arrived first, have dug burrows in the sand and females join them for several days of rest. Soon at high tide the females, each loaded with thousands of tiny eggs, head for the waves where the eggs are released. Then they turn their backs to the ocean and start the long trip overland and back up the cliffs to their forest homes again.
Meanwhile, the eggs hatch out into tiny creatures called megalops. They don’t look at all like crabs until they spend a month in the water. Then they come ashore by the millions and are a terrible nuisance to the people living nearby, as they climb fences and walls and work their way under doors and window sills, getting into carpets, furniture, beds and kitchens.
But eventually the ones not killed by angry people, hungry birds, dogs or other crabs leave for the homes of their parents, by God-given instinct, climbing the immense cliffs and all the other obstacles en route. After this long and grueling trip, they finally reach the homes of the adults where they occupy empty burrows or dig new ones of their own. A year later they join in the annual migration to the ocean and back.
We may not understand why God created such unusual creatures, but we do know that “by Him were all things created . . . and He is before all things, and by Him all things consist” (Colossians 1:1617). The Bible tells the true story of creation. We can put full trust in it and enjoy seeing and learning something of God’s wonderful works.
ML-04/16/2006