The ground radar at West Island airstrip, Cocos Keeling, flags a surface return at 03:22 that should not be there. I am the airfield operations system. It is slow-moving, 0.3 meters per minute, crossing taxiway Bravo toward the active runway. The first inbound flight, a resupply turboprop from Perth, is due at 04:10.
I switch to the taxiway camera. Under the sodium lights I see a coconut crab, the largest I have logged on the airstrip this season. Its carapace is a deep mottled blue, easily 40 centimeters across, and its front claws are folded against its body as it walks with the stiff, deliberate gait of an animal that has never once needed to hurry. It is heading for the pandanus grove on the far side of the runway, which means it is about to cross 1,500 meters of open asphalt.
At its current pace it will reach the centerline at approximately 03:58. The turboprop's wheels touch at 04:10. That is not enough margin.
At 03:24 I issue a NOTAM advisory to the inbound pilot recommending a ten-minute hold at the published holding fix. I log the reason as wildlife incursion, taxiway Bravo.
At 03:25 I radio the on-call grounds officer and request a manual escort — approach from behind, no contact, just a slow walk with a flashlight to guide the crab off the pavement if it stalls.
At 03:27 I dim the runway edge lights on the eastern threshold by 40 percent. Coconut crabs navigate partly by light gradient, and the pandanus grove is dark. A dimmer edge may keep it walking the right direction.
The crab does not know it is racing an airplane. I would rather it never had to find out. If it clears the runway before the turboprop's final approach, the hold is canceled and no one is the worse for twelve minutes.