Reflecting back on all of my experiences I had traveling to, while staying there and heading home, all have changed my perception of this place and of my role in caring for the resources found there.
The week prior to heading traveling was very chaotic. I had to balance my job and family and I almost said, “Forget it, I can not go, there is no way”. But with encouragement (mahalo Ann Bell and friends) I knew this would be a life changing experience. So, I packed up and got on the plane to Honolulu and when I got there I tried to let go of my job and home life to focus on this trip.
When Saturday came and we boarded the plane to travel to the islands and sanctuary (Pu’uhonua) I was full of excitement and awe, I kept trying to press my nose up against the plane window to see the ocean and any of the islands that we were flying over. It did not work, but when the sun was setting it was amazing and shining through the front window of the plane. This was when thoughts of the island came to me and a song was given to me. I am always amazed when this happens and I think which kupuna or kuku is sharing with me this song or is it just me and because my love of this place and history shining through.
The song came to me in Hawaiian and though I am only a conversational speaker of Hawaiian language, many times it provides a more in depth meaning in the words than English does. So, I wrote it down as it came and the feeling was very heavy (kaumaha) and my tears also flowed when the meaning of the song came to me. I tried to write the English meaning but it does not come through the same. In the song I see the Albatross taking off and flying, soaring through the skys and in their heart is the compelling feeling of finding food for their young. I see them returning to the island and searching for their young, the young calling out to their parents and their parents feeding them the nourishment they need to survive. I feel the sadness in knowing that they are also feeding poisons to their young and the result is death from the plastics. Then I see the young ready to leave and they have the strong feeling to fly up and away but they are afraid, and so they follow the other older birds. Once, they are up in the sky they receive the knowledge to fly to where the food is and then receive the amazing feeling of being apart of a plan of nature that continues each year, it is generational. The cycle starts again, but the young must find their way back home each year to keep the cycle strong and the family strong. This also speaks to me of the need to care and teach our young the same values and providing them with the “food” to connect to their source and return after they leave back home to care for the land and ocean and start the cycle for their children the next generation. We also need to watch for the “poisons and plastics” that they are being feed each day. These need to be cut off so they can again hear, see and feel the need of the land and ocean.
So that was my beginning and introduction to Papahanaumokuakea, a feeling of awe, aloha, amazement and connection before I even landed.
When I landed and stepped of the plane a wave of feelings overwhelmed me, a feeling of coming home, of welcome from my ancestors who traveled through this area, I could feel their happiness that I was there to connect and learn and to carry the message of malama to others. As I walked out the door of the plane I could not see much, it was dark but my other senses kicked in and I could “smell” the birds and plants and the ocean. It was all good and I smiled, I was here, I had made it to Papahanaumokuakea, Aloha mai.
Each morning, I awoke with a smile knowing I was there and anticipating what we would learn each day. Each night and day, I would be out late walking, talking to the birds and connecting with the island. As visitors we had a agenda to follow and classes to go to. This was fine, but many times my focus was out with the birds, on the trails and at the ocean. I wish I had more time to just sit, feel, connect with the island. As a Hawaiian this is very important to me to link to the past and the “kumu” or source the island and ocean. This helps me understand the story of the land and ocean and the change that took place here the shaped what the island looks like today and to think what is missing, what is hewa (wrong out of place).
I do not want to write forever, so I will share a few of the events that stood out to me. One was being with some amazing people who had the same love for the land, ocean and animals. Who had the same drive and excitement to wake up each day at dawn and go to sleep late at night to try to suck in all of the experiences each day. Also, the community on the island were great every day they welcomed us, so that we felt like “locals” and were soon acting as such.
One thing that stands out in my mind was the birds. Each day when I got up and got on my bike (which I loved), I would stop and talk to the young birds and the parents. The young would look at you with such trusting eyes and touched my na’au (gut or soul). It made a weight in my na’au to know and see the birds die. The longer we stayed the more our eyes began to focus on the story of the birds and island. In life, along with the happy there is the sad, it is the lokahi or balance. The sad part of the story is the role that people play in the story of how we impact our oceans and land by our “instant” lifestyle and the use of plastics.
One day a bird would make little noises to say hello or where are my parents I am hungry. The next day the same bird stops making noises, and the next the bird can not lift its wings until finally we find it has passed on to a new place. Like the birds whose stomachs are filling with plastic, my na’au is filling with stones of sadness and the need to tell the story to get others to care. It is sad that the young birds get a feeling of being full from plastic, they do not know it is a false feeling without nourishment to live on. What else can we do to help them? They continue to watch us with trusting eyes each day.
So each day I visited as much as the island that I could but always felt drawn to the east side of the island, the side that my ancestors came from and traveled past and maybe stopped to get water and food as the continued looking for a new home to sustain their people. Many loved the ocean and swimming under the pier, but I loved just being there and discovering new places, plants and animals. I loved introducing myself to each place and making a commitment to each others and share the story of Pihemanu and the other islands. To help them to connect and understand the trust that the young birds give to us is a challenge to us, a challenge to make good what we have polluted.
I thank all those who encouraged me to take this trip. What I learned and gained has changed me. The feeling in my na’au is heavy and will not be lifted until I share the stories, songs and feeling of Papahanaumokuakea to help them to care and carry on the story and songs to others. In this way we can make a difference and change our lifestyles that affect others. My last day I went to ocean to say good bye, my eyes filled with tears again of sadness again as a short oli (chant) came to mind of the love and care of the ocean and land and of farewells. A hui hou (until next time) I said and turned and left.
Thank you everyone, I hope my journal and thoughts will help you gain a new feeling of Papahanaumokuakea and want to be involved of the care of such amazing place, a place of my ancestors. I also hope each of you will take the weight of the pohaku (rock) and tell your stories to lighten the load and create a aumoana (ocean current) to help the birds, land and ocean heal.
Mahalo ke akua, na kumu, na kupuna, ko’u ohana ame hoaalohaa a pau,
Terry Leianuenue Reveira
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Reflections: Kathy Knoeppel
First, I would like to sincerely thank all the people involved in creating the Papahānaumokuākea 'Ahahui Alaka'i (PAA) program. Without their dedication and foresight; we could not have had the awesome learning experience that the program was for us. Ann, Linda, Tracy and Dani; a big Mahalo! My week on the island passed all too quickly and I am now back at home in Wisconsin; reflecting on my extraordinary experience.
For a week
that sped by all too quickly, we were deeply immersed in the ecology of Midway and the passion of the researchers and fish and wildlife personnel who work and live on the island. While on Midway, I often reflected that our Earth is in fact an island and we have a finite set resources; that we have a kuleana (responsibility) to malama (take care of) our island home. As I pick up my routine with my family, I look around and see the connections - some good and some bad links between the island and home.
If we only look at the problems face; we can soon be overwhelmed. I think the challenge is to make continual and lasting changes, living more mindfully and not just thoughtlessly consuming. I hope that each person who reads my blog will take away the idea that you don’t have to journey to Midway to make an impact. Consider the adage of growing where you are planted! Many of the environmental issues my fellow PAA participants have highlighted are mirrored in all of our cities and towns across the U.S.
Karen Matsumoto’s blog summarized how the nesting habitat of the Albatross has been changed by “the lovely yellow sunflowers” - Verbesina encelioides. Biking around the island, I saw first hand how the Verbesina; a native to Southwestern U.S. choked native species and I felt the hot, stagnant air as the plants intensified the temperature heat stressing the Albatross chicks causing many to perish.
Verbesina has counterparts in Wisconsin. Sadly, we too have invasive species that on the surface are quite lovely; but upon examination one can see their true effects. In Wisconsin and in many of the Midwestern states; purple loosestrife (Lythrum salicaria) takes the place of the island’s verbesina. Like verbesina, once purple loosestrife gets a foothold; habitat where fish and wildlife feed reproduce and rear young quickly become strangled under a monoculture of purple flowers. As on Midway some wildlife do are not always able to find better habitat. Animals, plants and insects that can't move are killed by this invasion. The Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources estimates 40,000 acres of wetlands, marshes, pastures and wet meadows in Wisconsin are affected by purple loosestrife. But like on Midway, there are people w
ho are working to eliminate and mitigate these thugs. In Wisconsin, as across the country there are groups that would love to have volunteers help. In our area, we are fortunate to have the Wild Ones Organization www.for-wild.org/ which promotes environmentally sound landscaping practices through the preservation, restoration and establishment of native plant communities and opportunities with the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources www.dnr.state.wi.us/org/land/parks/voljobs/volseek.html
I enjoyed biking around the island with Jeff Manker and Ron Hirschi; however as we biked we were increasingly dismayed at the toll plastic had taken on the wildlife. It was alarming to see the number of dead birds scattered across the roads and in the fields. Jeff, ever the science teacher, was moved to open carcasses of albatross we found it was clear to see that the birds had died from ingesting plastic debris. It was shocking to see the quantities of cigarette lighters, fishing line, toothbrushes, bottle caps, and bits and pieces of plastic of all colors, shapes, and sizes. The floating plastic had been disguised; covered with a coating of fish eggs. Typically, these eggs would have been on natural material which the albatross had evolved to process not the sharp plastics which take up the space of food and often pierced and cut the organs of the adults and chicks.
Once again, one
does not need to travel to a tiny atoll in the middle of the Pacific Ocean to see the effects of our society’s dependence on plastics. Every grocery store has taken up the cause of plastic reduction by asking consumers to bring reusable bags when shopping. What else can we do? Can we think for ourselves and realize that it might be trendier to drink water out of the tap instead of out of a plastic bottle that has hidden costs? When we purchase children’s toys, spend our dollars wisely and environmentally – try to avoid buying plastic trinkets that can find their way into the ecosystem or if you do purchase toys/games – donate them when your children grow out of them.
When I returned home, I was happy to see how much my garden had grown. Every year, I cannot wait to taste those home grown tomatoes! At Midway, gardening is also a way to enjoy fresh fruit and veggies; but it demonstrates the idea of sustainability. It is heartening to see Michelle Obama re-inventing the idea of Victory gardens by planting an organic garden at the White House to provide an example of how growing food locally, and organically, can allow families to eat healthfully and at the same time reduce our nation’s reliance on industrial farms that use chemicals for fertilizers and pesticides; as well as oil for food shipment.
I invite and challenge each of one of our blog readers to join our ‘Ahahu‘i (club) and become Alaka’i (ambassadors or leaders) at home. And PA‘A (remain steadfast and strong) in your dedication to leave a rich legacy to our children.
For a week
that sped by all too quickly, we were deeply immersed in the ecology of Midway and the passion of the researchers and fish and wildlife personnel who work and live on the island. While on Midway, I often reflected that our Earth is in fact an island and we have a finite set resources; that we have a kuleana (responsibility) to malama (take care of) our island home. As I pick up my routine with my family, I look around and see the connections - some good and some bad links between the island and home.If we only look at the problems face; we can soon be overwhelmed. I think the challenge is to make continual and lasting changes, living more mindfully and not just thoughtlessly consuming. I hope that each person who reads my blog will take away the idea that you don’t have to journey to Midway to make an impact. Consider the adage of growing where you are planted! Many of the environmental issues my fellow PAA participants have highlighted are mirrored in all of our cities and towns across the U.S.
Karen Matsumoto’s blog summarized how the nesting habitat of the Albatross has been changed by “the lovely yellow sunflowers” - Verbesina encelioides. Biking around the island, I saw first hand how the Verbesina; a native to Southwestern U.S. choked native species and I felt the hot, stagnant air as the plants intensified the temperature heat stressing the Albatross chicks causing many to perish.
Verbesina has counterparts in Wisconsin. Sadly, we too have invasive species that on the surface are quite lovely; but upon examination one can see their true effects. In Wisconsin and in many of the Midwestern states; purple loosestrife (Lythrum salicaria) takes the place of the island’s verbesina. Like verbesina, once purple loosestrife gets a foothold; habitat where fish and wildlife feed reproduce and rear young quickly become strangled under a monoculture of purple flowers. As on Midway some wildlife do are not always able to find better habitat. Animals, plants and insects that can't move are killed by this invasion. The Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources estimates 40,000 acres of wetlands, marshes, pastures and wet meadows in Wisconsin are affected by purple loosestrife. But like on Midway, there are people w
ho are working to eliminate and mitigate these thugs. In Wisconsin, as across the country there are groups that would love to have volunteers help. In our area, we are fortunate to have the Wild Ones Organization www.for-wild.org/ which promotes environmentally sound landscaping practices through the preservation, restoration and establishment of native plant communities and opportunities with the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources www.dnr.state.wi.us/org/land/parks/voljobs/volseek.htmlI enjoyed biking around the island with Jeff Manker and Ron Hirschi; however as we biked we were increasingly dismayed at the toll plastic had taken on the wildlife. It was alarming to see the number of dead birds scattered across the roads and in the fields. Jeff, ever the science teacher, was moved to open carcasses of albatross we found it was clear to see that the birds had died from ingesting plastic debris. It was shocking to see the quantities of cigarette lighters, fishing line, toothbrushes, bottle caps, and bits and pieces of plastic of all colors, shapes, and sizes. The floating plastic had been disguised; covered with a coating of fish eggs. Typically, these eggs would have been on natural material which the albatross had evolved to process not the sharp plastics which take up the space of food and often pierced and cut the organs of the adults and chicks.
Once again, one
does not need to travel to a tiny atoll in the middle of the Pacific Ocean to see the effects of our society’s dependence on plastics. Every grocery store has taken up the cause of plastic reduction by asking consumers to bring reusable bags when shopping. What else can we do? Can we think for ourselves and realize that it might be trendier to drink water out of the tap instead of out of a plastic bottle that has hidden costs? When we purchase children’s toys, spend our dollars wisely and environmentally – try to avoid buying plastic trinkets that can find their way into the ecosystem or if you do purchase toys/games – donate them when your children grow out of them.When I returned home, I was happy to see how much my garden had grown. Every year, I cannot wait to taste those home grown tomatoes! At Midway, gardening is also a way to enjoy fresh fruit and veggies; but it demonstrates the idea of sustainability. It is heartening to see Michelle Obama re-inventing the idea of Victory gardens by planting an organic garden at the White House to provide an example of how growing food locally, and organically, can allow families to eat healthfully and at the same time reduce our nation’s reliance on industrial farms that use chemicals for fertilizers and pesticides; as well as oil for food shipment.
I invite and challenge each of one of our blog readers to join our ‘Ahahu‘i (club) and become Alaka’i (ambassadors or leaders) at home. And PA‘A (remain steadfast and strong) in your dedication to leave a rich legacy to our children.
Reflections: Ron Hirschi
It is so good to be home, but I return feeling even more responsibility than ever before. I carry my laptop around and have done many impromptu slide shows at the Post Office, grocery store and up at Marty's print shop too. Then too, I have been sending off the postcards to kids, Postcards from Papa that many of you participants kindly replied to. It was the set of questions from kids that really sent me on this journey and I feel a special bond with young Evelyn who wrote the most difficult of questions, one we all need to find answers to.
photo credit: Ron Hirschi
I want to share this with all of you.........the last morning at Midway, I looked closely at a handful of sand at my study site, a place where I had come each morning to collect data on visible chunks of plastic (lighters, toys, bottle caps, and assorted debris)..... I was admiring the beautiful white coral pieces chomped by uhu and wrasse. Mixed in the beauty were tiny bits of red, blue, and lavender. The ocean's plastics have, sadly, gone micro to add their toxins to food webs other than those of the Albatross. So I got back in touch with John Klavitter, biologist on Sand Island and posted a note on Scuttlebutt, asking for sand samples. Already, people from around the world are sending me sand so that we can collaborate on a new project, Serious Sand. Sinister Sand. John told me that plastic absorbs PCBs and other toxins and so I am diving into the current research into how the fragments of plastic work their way into the food of fish, seals, and whales. Tonight as I walked the beach here on Marrowstone Island, I picked up yet another stream of plastic debris now destined for recycling. We can all do these endless beach cleanups but it is for sure, time to go to the sources to find solutions. Aloha nui loa, Ron Hirschi. www.ronhirschi.com
photo credit: Ron HirschiTuesday, June 30, 2009
Reflections: Jeff Manker
Revivial
Wow! It’s already been a week since we left Midway for our separate homes. Without giving it concentrated thought the things I learned from this trip have permeated my life. I left the island with a profound feeling of a need to stop the destructive forces that assault the animals and habitats of Papahanoumokuakea. I made plans to make videos and write articles and speak out for those who cannot speak for themselves. But in the intervening week, things have slowed down. I’ve taken walks along the beach and in the redwood forests and found myself chanting,
“E ho mai ka ike mai luna mai e…”
I have thought about the friendly competition that Trevor proposed between different schools to find the beauty in their surroundings and tell each other why their place is the best. It has made me slow down and look at the kelp on the beach and smell the dune sage. It has made me smile at the Great Horned Owl swooping under the canopy and the coolness of the redwood sorrel.
I have thought about the commitment of Greg Schubert, who despite overwhelming odds in the battle against the invasive Verbesina he continues to get up everyday and plot his tactical take back of the island for the birds. His ability to see the possibility has been a huge boost for me when I have been looking at entire cities with barely a native plant in sight and despair. For many years I have thought of the city where I teach a lost cause, and looked for beauty in nature elsewhere. I was wrong.
“O na mea huna no eau o na mele e…”
I have thought about three Hawaiian words that I learned: malama, kuleana and ahupua’a. I love that there are groups seemingly all over the islands specifically to malama their piece of land. I want to try to institute the same idea here and like Greg, take back a piece at a time. Kuleana is a great word in that, as I understand it, means both responsibility and privilege. It reminds me to find joy in protecting our wild places and creatures. The concept of an ahupua’a is not new to me, only the name. Here, at the southernmost end of Salmon country are tribes or races of salmon each unique to their own watershed. Years ago I thought we should abandon traditional county lines and adopt watershed boundaries as natural lines of division and responsibility. I want to teach my students to see the world in this more natural way.
“E ho mai, e ho mai, e ho mai e
I have thought about my new friend Ron Hirschi and his playful way of engaging others in nature. I want to emulate his passion and child-friendly way of encouraging curiosity and engagement with our surroundings.
All these experiences along with a thousand others have revived me. I see the world differently than I did before this opportunity. I’m sure that what I have learned from all the participants will continue to permeate what I teach, how I teach and what my students will take away. For certain, I do not want to leave them with a feeling of anger or despair (as I exhibited over plastic bottle caps) but with a sense of marvel and love for nature. For that I go back to one of my favorite quotes from Antoine de Saint-Exupery,
“If you want to build a ship, don’t drum up the men to gather wood, divide the work and give orders. Instead, teach them to yearn for the vast and endless sea.”
Thank you to all who made our voyage possible.
Sincerely,
Jeff Manker
photo credit: Jeff Manker
Wow! It’s already been a week since we left Midway for our separate homes. Without giving it concentrated thought the things I learned from this trip have permeated my life. I left the island with a profound feeling of a need to stop the destructive forces that assault the animals and habitats of Papahanoumokuakea. I made plans to make videos and write articles and speak out for those who cannot speak for themselves. But in the intervening week, things have slowed down. I’ve taken walks along the beach and in the redwood forests and found myself chanting,
“E ho mai ka ike mai luna mai e…”
I have thought about the friendly competition that Trevor proposed between different schools to find the beauty in their surroundings and tell each other why their place is the best. It has made me slow down and look at the kelp on the beach and smell the dune sage. It has made me smile at the Great Horned Owl swooping under the canopy and the coolness of the redwood sorrel.
I have thought about the commitment of Greg Schubert, who despite overwhelming odds in the battle against the invasive Verbesina he continues to get up everyday and plot his tactical take back of the island for the birds. His ability to see the possibility has been a huge boost for me when I have been looking at entire cities with barely a native plant in sight and despair. For many years I have thought of the city where I teach a lost cause, and looked for beauty in nature elsewhere. I was wrong.“O na mea huna no eau o na mele e…”
I have thought about three Hawaiian words that I learned: malama, kuleana and ahupua’a. I love that there are groups seemingly all over the islands specifically to malama their piece of land. I want to try to institute the same idea here and like Greg, take back a piece at a time. Kuleana is a great word in that, as I understand it, means both responsibility and privilege. It reminds me to find joy in protecting our wild places and creatures. The concept of an ahupua’a is not new to me, only the name. Here, at the southernmost end of Salmon country are tribes or races of salmon each unique to their own watershed. Years ago I thought we should abandon traditional county lines and adopt watershed boundaries as natural lines of division and responsibility. I want to teach my students to see the world in this more natural way.
“E ho mai, e ho mai, e ho mai e
I have thought about my new friend Ron Hirschi and his playful way of engaging others in nature. I want to emulate his passion and child-friendly way of encouraging curiosity and engagement with our surroundings.
All these experiences along with a thousand others have revived me. I see the world differently than I did before this opportunity. I’m sure that what I have learned from all the participants will continue to permeate what I teach, how I teach and what my students will take away. For certain, I do not want to leave them with a feeling of anger or despair (as I exhibited over plastic bottle caps) but with a sense of marvel and love for nature. For that I go back to one of my favorite quotes from Antoine de Saint-Exupery,
“If you want to build a ship, don’t drum up the men to gather wood, divide the work and give orders. Instead, teach them to yearn for the vast and endless sea.”
Thank you to all who made our voyage possible.
Sincerely,
Jeff Manker
photo credit: Jeff Manker
Reflections: Darius Kalvaitis
After a week on Midway Atoll the world began to look somehow different. This was both in a personal and an ecological fashion. I know that I had gone through some changes in that week spent in the middle of the pacific ocean; both because of the shared experiences as well as the influence such moving raw nature provided. Boarding the plane we knew that it was coming to an end and did not hesitate to bring what we had learned back to the wider world. Soaring during the middle of the night over a vacant ocean on the way back to civilization was surreal. After deplaning in the middle of the night back on Oahu I stepped back into my other life, one filled with the real of many humans, machines and an ever-increasing pace to the day-to-day events that fill my life. From this place, I know I will look back at my PAA experience on Midway and recall the moments of organic connection to the ecology of the place as well as the people who shared it with me.
Reflections: Anne Rosa
The participants of the PA'A program call many areas their home. The strength of this group was making ties between the kupuna islands and each of our homes. My way of bringing my experiences in Papahānaumokuākea home are to talk about the “two oceans” that I swim in. One is in our younger Hawaiian Islands at Hanauma, and one is in our Kupuna islands at Pihemanu(Midway).Aloha ke kai o Pihemanu
Aloha ke kai o Hanauma
Noho nā kūpuna i ke kai o Pihemanu
Noho nā keiki i ke kai o Hanauma
The keiki travels to meet the Kupuna
Honi kaua, a greeting is exchanged
Piha me ka mahalo, filled with grattitude
Nunui nā i'a kupuna o Pihemanu
Pehea ho'i nā i'a kupuna ia Hawai'i?
Piha na manu i ke kai o Pihemanu
Pehea ho'i na manu i ke kai o Hanauma?
A pehea ka make 'opala?
A pehea ka huli aniau?
Ke ho'i au me ka hana nui
Ke ho'i au me ke aloha nui
Aloha nā kai o nā keiki
Aloha nā kai o nā kūpuna
Papahānaumokuākea is a conservation area where fewer people go, Hanauma is a conservation area where many people go. I talk about my love for both places. I compare Hanauma and the younger Hawaiian islands at the place of the young, the keiki, and Papahānaumokuākea as the place of the kūpuna, the elders. I traveled to the place of the kūpuna. I was humbled by this place and greatful to be there. I was inspired by the return of life to Midway, how the marine life can thrive, how the birds have come
back. Seeing the abundance of bird life at Midway made me wonder if more seabirds could return to Hanauma. Hanauma is a good place for the keiki, the young marine life are sheltered here. There is a challenge for us to have more protection throughout our Hawaiian waters so that we don't loose too many of the i'a kupuna, the large old fish that help to keep the stocks going. Other challenges come in the form of global problems like climate change and marine debris. How do we avoid death by plastic? How can we lessen our contribution to climate change? As an educator at a 
marine protected area my role is to share information with people on how they can help to make a difference and protect these special places in the ocean. I return from this journey with new energy, knowledge and inspiration to do my part.photo credits: Anne Rosa
Reflections: Meghan Marrero
The morning after arriving home in New York, I woke to the sounds of bird chirping. I’m sure they do that every morning, but I don’t think I had noticed before—birds just weren’t my thing. Hearing the feathered friends outside my apartment transported me back to Midway, where I had fallen in love with the thousands of albatross chicks within sight of my window at Charlie Barracks, and the little pairs of highly endangered Laysan ducks waddling by.
My experience at Midway will not easily be forgotten. I even have my own battle scar—12 stitches will leave a mark! I learned so much in so many different areas including science, history, and culture. Who knew that short-tailed albatross flirt with decoys, or that an ecosystem can be dominated by apex predators? I fell in love with the albatross chicks as I got to know those that sat in the way of my daily travels, the first time in my memory that I have demonstrated even a remote interest in birds. I profoundly appreciated the presence of so much World War II history, and imagined the young men who sat in the middle of the Pacific, understanding the gravity of their mission while shaking in their boots and hearing terns and bombs shriek overhead. I also felt the tug of the spiritual and cultural connection. Understanding the importance of the kupuna islands makes Midway even more special.
As PAA participants, it is our kuleana to remember this place, to reflect on our journey, and to pay it forward so that the lessons of Midway will be far-reaching.
My experience at Midway will not easily be forgotten. I even have my own battle scar—12 stitches will leave a mark! I learned so much in so many different areas including science, history, and culture. Who knew that short-tailed albatross flirt with decoys, or that an ecosystem can be dominated by apex predators? I fell in love with the albatross chicks as I got to know those that sat in the way of my daily travels, the first time in my memory that I have demonstrated even a remote interest in birds. I profoundly appreciated the presence of so much World War II history, and imagined the young men who sat in the middle of the Pacific, understanding the gravity of their mission while shaking in their boots and hearing terns and bombs shriek overhead. I also felt the tug of the spiritual and cultural connection. Understanding the importance of the kupuna islands makes Midway even more special.
As PAA participants, it is our kuleana to remember this place, to reflect on our journey, and to pay it forward so that the lessons of Midway will be far-reaching.
Reflections: Miriam Sutton
PA’A: “steadfast, learned, determined, strong, to hold, keep, retain.”
I walked along the paths with the albatross once more today and even made an attempt to teach them about their parents’ journeys out to sea. It is hard to imagine what tomorrow morning will be like without waking up to albatross calls at dawn or hearing the puttering of their feet just before take-off or ducking to avoid a collision with an adult returning from a 2-week, 2000+ mile journey to the Arctic. I will surely miss those encounters.
Our PA’A project presentations were completed today and most of our afternoon was free for us to enjoy Midway. After a final snorkel at the cargo pier, I biked around the island for one more chance to absorb as much as I could from the wildlife and the aura of PA’A that engulfs Midway. I met so many wonderful people this week who were devoted to making our experience at the Midway Wildlife Refuge unique and memorable. To each of them, I am truly grateful. I have many new friends who I will carry forward in my heart as I work to implement my PA’A project back home.
Things I will miss when I leave Midway: monk seals and sea turtles hauling out onto the shore to warm themselves in the hot sand and sun; watching the albatross surf the waves on the south shore of Sand Island; and watching the albatross chicks practicing for flight with all the awkwardness of a teenager trying to manage gangly growth spurts.
What I will not miss when I leave Midway is the plastic-filled stomachs of dead chicks or the mournful cries of the adults as they search for their chick who died while the parents were out to sea foraging for food.
Things I will take with me when I leave Midway: a deeper understanding of the factors that affect the wildlife struggling to survive among the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands; the support of my PA’A ‘ohana (family); and the compassion of the scientists and volunteers who live and work on this remote island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I take with me “PA’A,” to guide my thoughts and actions with my students as we work within our community to monitor and conserve our pristine estuarine environment.
Mahalo! (Thanks!)
photo credits: Miriam Sutton
I walked along the paths with the albatross once more today and even made an attempt to teach them about their parents’ journeys out to sea. It is hard to imagine what tomorrow morning will be like without waking up to albatross calls at dawn or hearing the puttering of their feet just before take-off or ducking to avoid a collision with an adult returning from a 2-week, 2000+ mile journey to the Arctic. I will surely miss those encounters.Our PA’A project presentations were completed today and most of our afternoon was free for us to enjoy Midway. After a final snorkel at the cargo pier, I biked around the island for one more chance to absorb as much as I could from the wildlife and the aura of PA’A that engulfs Midway. I met so many wonderful people this week who were devoted to making our experience at the Midway Wildlife Refuge unique and memorable. To each of them, I am truly grateful. I have many new friends who I will carry forward in my heart as I work to implement my PA’A project back home.
Things I will miss when I leave Midway: monk seals and sea turtles hauling out onto the shore to warm themselves in the hot sand and sun; watching the albatross surf the waves on the south shore of Sand Island; and watching the albatross chicks practicing for flight with all the awkwardness of a teenager trying to manage gangly growth spurts.
What I will not miss when I leave Midway is the plastic-filled stomachs of dead chicks or the mournful cries of the adults as they search for their chick who died while the parents were out to sea foraging for food.
Things I will take with me when I leave Midway: a deeper understanding of the factors that affect the wildlife struggling to survive among the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands; the support of my PA’A ‘ohana (family); and the compassion of the scientists and volunteers who live and work on this remote island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I take with me “PA’A,” to guide my thoughts and actions with my students as we work within our community to monitor and conserve our pristine estuarine environment.
Mahalo! (Thanks!)
photo credits: Miriam Sutton
Reflections: Trevor Atkins
Final Reflection – Rusty Bucket, Sand Island, Midway Atoll
I sit here with much in front of me. A vine of pohuehue creeps out from my feet toward the water, wishing to swallow the rusty mess of gears and axles that constitute the coastline. An albatross chick preens and sleeps on the sand, away from her nest, perhaps premeditating a great sea voyage of many years that could begin tomorrow. A monk seal finds peace, like me, in the protection afforded by this massive ring of coral reef that surrounds us all. We are ants clinging to the tip of a sinking rockberg. The sea would like to gulp our little islands and extinguish our existence, but we humans will probably kill ourselves and the seals before the seas transgress.
Midway is an end – and island’s last dying breath before sinking out of the terrestrial world
Midway is a beginning – a place where the banished creatures have come to hide from men
Midway is an end – a battlefield of war and a graveyard of heavy metal corpses, toxins, and lead
Midway is a beginning – a place where America wants to give nature a second chance
Midway is an end – a five-mile wide collection dump for the world’s plastics
Midway is a beginning – a haven for Laysan ducks and noddies and terns and albatross to procreate
Midway is an end – a last stop off for our dying tropical species before they leave forever
Midway is a middle – a middleplace to give the world hope, to bring continents together in global efforts to save one of the last beautiful places; a middletime between our ugly (and beautiful pasts) and our ugly (and beautiful) futures; and tonight, Midway is the middle of the world
I sit here with much in front of me. A vine of pohuehue creeps out from my feet toward the water, wishing to swallow the rusty mess of gears and axles that constitute the coastline. An albatross chick preens and sleeps on the sand, away from her nest, perhaps premeditating a great sea voyage of many years that could begin tomorrow. A monk seal finds peace, like me, in the protection afforded by this massive ring of coral reef that surrounds us all. We are ants clinging to the tip of a sinking rockberg. The sea would like to gulp our little islands and extinguish our existence, but we humans will probably kill ourselves and the seals before the seas transgress.
Midway is an end – and island’s last dying breath before sinking out of the terrestrial world
Midway is a beginning – a place where the banished creatures have come to hide from men
Midway is an end – a battlefield of war and a graveyard of heavy metal corpses, toxins, and lead
Midway is a beginning – a place where America wants to give nature a second chance
Midway is an end – a five-mile wide collection dump for the world’s plastics
Midway is a beginning – a haven for Laysan ducks and noddies and terns and albatross to procreate
Midway is an end – a last stop off for our dying tropical species before they leave forever
Midway is a middle – a middleplace to give the world hope, to bring continents together in global efforts to save one of the last beautiful places; a middletime between our ugly (and beautiful pasts) and our ugly (and beautiful) futures; and tonight, Midway is the middle of the world
Reflections: Sunny Seal-LaPlante
Ah Midway, what can I say? What impressed me most was the wildlife. The white terns who fly so close to my head, the Laysan albatross chicks that wait patiently “cooling their heels” in the hot sun, the parents who fly in for such a short time to feed their ‘one and only” which they have found amidst all the others, they feed their chick and then right back out to sea two parents sharing the responsibility.
Red-tailed tropic birds, why are you declining? You have the cutest babies with halo fluff. And Laysan ducks happy in puddles or sitting on whale bones need assistance to continue to increase their population. And I haven’t yet mentioned the great frigate birds, the black footed albatross, Bulwers petrels and so many others. Monk seals especially the young are playful, entanglement a problem for them.
Then there is the sea, its indescribable beauty coloring the clouds green and being a foil for white bird portraits. Under that turquoise and azure color is a predator dominated ecosystem, meaning plenty of large uluas and sharks! Seeing nudibranch for the first time and being where the animals studied me as much as I looked at them was novel. And yes on the beaches and shores was a large amount of plastic which compels me to do even more about it. And the albatross chicks that have died from ingesting too much plastic is heartbreaking and a grim warning for humans who are filling the ocean food chains with plastic. No, you didn’t mean to and I didn’t mean to, but plastic is everywhere, getting into the ocean food chains, breaking into small pieces and becoming more numerous than plankton in some parts of the ocean. So fish and marine life are more likely to eat plastic than food. Now that you know, what will you do?
This is now our kuleana, our privilege and responsibility to do something and for those reading this I give it also to you.
photo credit: Sunny Seal-LaPlante
Red-tailed tropic birds, why are you declining? You have the cutest babies with halo fluff. And Laysan ducks happy in puddles or sitting on whale bones need assistance to continue to increase their population. And I haven’t yet mentioned the great frigate birds, the black footed albatross, Bulwers petrels and so many others. Monk seals especially the young are playful, entanglement a problem for them.
Then there is the sea, its indescribable beauty coloring the clouds green and being a foil for white bird portraits. Under that turquoise and azure color is a predator dominated ecosystem, meaning plenty of large uluas and sharks! Seeing nudibranch for the first time and being where the animals studied me as much as I looked at them was novel. And yes on the beaches and shores was a large amount of plastic which compels me to do even more about it. And the albatross chicks that have died from ingesting too much plastic is heartbreaking and a grim warning for humans who are filling the ocean food chains with plastic. No, you didn’t mean to and I didn’t mean to, but plastic is everywhere, getting into the ocean food chains, breaking into small pieces and becoming more numerous than plankton in some parts of the ocean. So fish and marine life are more likely to eat plastic than food. Now that you know, what will you do?
This is now our kuleana, our privilege and responsibility to do something and for those reading this I give it also to you.
photo credit: Sunny Seal-LaPlante
Reflections: Carlie Wiener
Perceptions of time are non-existent at Midway Atoll, a healthier sense of awareness lives. Rising with the sun and surrendering your schedule to that of the birds. This week, has passed so quickly but I could not even begin to describe how much I have learned. The quiet is filled with the calls of so many different birds, ones that I now recognize. Each albatross taking on its own identity, like a proud mother I am excited about the fledgling’s progress. They spread their wide-spanning wings for flight, their unsure take offs and uncoordinated landings, preparing them for their upcoming journey. I will forever long to hear the sound of quickened footsteps, the adult albatrosses taking flight on a make shift run way. The stark white turns hover gracefully amongst the trees, never straying far from their fluffy white chicks. The varying shades of blue in the ocean are indescribable drawing you close like a calling. I often look back just to make sure the beauty is still there, not something I must have imagined in my wildest dreams. Swimming in the cool, Pacific waters is like a reawakening. Healthy corals and fish demonstrate the importance of our reefs and protected places. This week has been a mix of feelings joy, motivation, appreciation and mostly of importance.
You can see the bonds of the group growing stronger as we build our experiences together. The energy is motivating but I fear that my abilities will not live up to the groups expectations. I want so badly to do right by the world, make a difference for the earth and the people as well. I am increasingly aware though that life has its obstacles, the pull of the everyday, the deadlines and commitments. I fear that the feelings and motivation that I hold right now will not be strong enough to overcome the day to day workings of life. The Northwestern Hawaiian Islands will always be a special place not just to me but to anyone fortunate enough to experience its power and pure natural beauty. Midway is a place of contradiction, filled with wildlife: monk seals, sharks, birds but also a keeper of the past; remnants of wartime, contaminants and indestructible waste. I fear that these too will play a part in the future of this Atoll. Not just the direct impacts which have been brought upon Midway but all the other debris and floating fishing gear that ends up on this island. Its effects reach far from the litter scattered across the shoreline, to the coral reefs, monk seals, sea birds and honu all who fear its deathly grasp. The colorful plastic lies as a reminder of how we need to change our lives and priorities. Bright and colorful its once useful and happy existence turns dark and looms forever in our environment.
For me though, the things I will take away from this experience will forever stay. The sense of belonging to a group where people have the same drive and passion. A sense of hope for the future and a reminder of why I went into this field in the first place. The passion is relit and the messages are clear. Not just for myself but for any thinking, breathing person. In order to care you must feel and in order to feel you must experience. I indeed have experienced nature at its best, it is up to me and every other person in our communities whether that be families, schools or towns, to show the beauty and importance of our natural world. Mahalo nui loa for the opportunity to share this special week and for the bonds that are now cemented for life.
You can see the bonds of the group growing stronger as we build our experiences together. The energy is motivating but I fear that my abilities will not live up to the groups expectations. I want so badly to do right by the world, make a difference for the earth and the people as well. I am increasingly aware though that life has its obstacles, the pull of the everyday, the deadlines and commitments. I fear that the feelings and motivation that I hold right now will not be strong enough to overcome the day to day workings of life. The Northwestern Hawaiian Islands will always be a special place not just to me but to anyone fortunate enough to experience its power and pure natural beauty. Midway is a place of contradiction, filled with wildlife: monk seals, sharks, birds but also a keeper of the past; remnants of wartime, contaminants and indestructible waste. I fear that these too will play a part in the future of this Atoll. Not just the direct impacts which have been brought upon Midway but all the other debris and floating fishing gear that ends up on this island. Its effects reach far from the litter scattered across the shoreline, to the coral reefs, monk seals, sea birds and honu all who fear its deathly grasp. The colorful plastic lies as a reminder of how we need to change our lives and priorities. Bright and colorful its once useful and happy existence turns dark and looms forever in our environment.
For me though, the things I will take away from this experience will forever stay. The sense of belonging to a group where people have the same drive and passion. A sense of hope for the future and a reminder of why I went into this field in the first place. The passion is relit and the messages are clear. Not just for myself but for any thinking, breathing person. In order to care you must feel and in order to feel you must experience. I indeed have experienced nature at its best, it is up to me and every other person in our communities whether that be families, schools or towns, to show the beauty and importance of our natural world. Mahalo nui loa for the opportunity to share this special week and for the bonds that are now cemented for life.
Reflections: Karen Matsumoto
In this final journal entry, I want to share some of my observations of Midway. Reflecting on my recent experience, I can already see it from several different vantage points. Its meaning for me is deep and will be lasting, I am sure, but it is not a single meaning. Like everything else in life the message of this amazing time depends on where you look from and the lens you look through.
First, I feel humbled by the privilege of having been one of twelve participants in an amazing environmental leadership program in Midway Atoll. I hope to be an environmental ambassador for the NW Hawaiian Islands as a result of my experiences there. The home communities and work of all twelve participants vary widely, but our shared experience here on Midway help us to find common ground.
Sand Island on
Midway Atoll fits most people’s idea of a tropical paradise. Bicycling across the island, I dodge baby albatrosses waiting for their parents to return with food. I will learn that the adult birds fly 1,200 miles every other week to the Bering Sea and points beyond. The young birds are not wary of humans. Now and then one of them will look up and clack its bill at me and I hear moaning coos or high-pitched peeps from near and far as they call out to their parents. The fledglings sit neatly spaced in fields of fragrant white fragrant flowers in roughly formed nests. The parent birds ignore humans as they feed their chicks, regurgitating the squid and other food they have foraged from distant seas. They are dedicated parents, and it is a joy to watch them with their young.
Walking down the trail, I see white terns roosting on branches and cliff ledges. They swoop and hover around me like little fairies, usually just checking me out but sometimes even landing on an outstretched hand.
Further down the trail thousands of yellow sunflowers bloom in the fields with their rich green foliage, a gorgeous contrast of color against the clear blue sky. These fields of sunflowers outline the sand hills of the northernmost part of the island. More albatross fledglings and other sea birds sit among the plants waiting for their parents to return.
Going down to the beach, I stoop to pick up some colorful striped cone shells, and the tiniest chubby sand dollar I’ve ever seen, bleached white like the coral sand. Walking down the smooth, peaceful stretch of sandy beach, I spot a monk seal sunning in the sand with its sleepy pup. A honu, or green sea turtle, basks on a large rock nearby.
Walking back from the beach through a forest of trees that look like some kind of pine, the branches are dotted with more tiny white terns. There is a peaceful-looking cemetery nearby, the old headstones a memorial to island residents otherwise unremembered.
I later learn that the island has been an important site for religious and ceremonial purposes for centuries by early native Hawaiians. More recently around the middle of the 20th century, buildings designed by the renowned industrial architect Albert Kahn were constructed here. The clean lines and distinct design features of the buildings remind me of Frank Lloyd Wright. It wasn’t that long ago this island was a bustling community, built with care and serving important purposes.
Roads criss-cross the island and the old airstrips built by the U.S. military during WWII are still here. Many of the albatross nesting grounds are alongside and even on the roads. Albatross babies sit on manhole covers their parents chose as nesting places. Many wait in less developed areas that have been taken over by invasive non-native plants, and some sit among fields of Alyssum plants that were introduced to keep down noxious weeds and provide groundcover.
The ground around the nesting areas is strewn with bits of plastic garbage: cigarette
lighters, bits of fishing line, lego blocks, toothbrushes, bottle caps, and pieces of plastic of all colors, shapes, and sizes. These have been brought back by the parents mixed with the squid and fish eggs collected to feed their young. Floating in the sea, they were first swallowed by the parents, then regurgitated and swallowed by the growing babies along with food. Albatrosses cough up indigestible parts of their diets such as squid beaks and eyeballs – and all kinds of plastic debris - as boluses similar to owl pellets. The organic components of the boluses eventually decompose, leaving the plastic bits on the ground. Here and there I come across a decomposed albatross carcass and I can see the mass of plastic debris that filled its stomach.
The lovely yellow sunflowers that cover much of the island are Verbesina encelioides or golden crown-beard, an invasive weed that can quickly choke out all native vegetation. The thick foliage of Verbesina, up to four feet tall and dense enough to block cooling breezes from the sea, can create stagnant “dead zones” where it can be ten degrees hotter than surrounding areas. Many fledglings, whose instinct is to stay where their parents leave them, die here with no escape from the heat. Thickets of verbesina can also make it difficult for parents to find their babies, and for other ground-nesting or burrowing birds to find a place to nest.
On the sand around the monk seals on the beach are plastic buoys, colorful laundry hampers, and tangled piles of rope. A monk seal pup playfully investigates a plastic jug washed up on the shore. The honu’s basking place is actually a concrete boat ramp strewn with plastic marine debris.
The pine-like forest is made up of ironwood trees from Australia, another non-native species that has replaced naupaka and other kinds of native shrubby vegetation. Albatross and other birds have trouble flying around and among these trees and often crash into them and die. In this area Verbesina and ironwood have also taken over precious habitat for ground-nesting birds.
The historic Kahn-designed buildings, as well as many of the former shops and maintenance sheds on the island, are in varying stages of decay and disrepair. Many of the white terns use crumbling windows sills as nesting “cliffs”. Falling roofs and eroding walls are hazards to people and animals. I see young birds standing listlessly, unable to hold their wings up off the ground, the effects of poisoning from eating lead paint chips.
I learn that the peaceful cemetery we observed had gravestones marking the final resting place of several key American military doctors and others whose lives were lost during World War II. Most Americans, if they recognize the name “Midway” at all, know it only as the site of a battle considered an important turning point in the Pacific war. In June of 1942 four Japanese aircraft carriers and a heavy cruiser were sunk in exchange for one American aircraft carrier and a destroyer. Over 300 Americans and more than 3,000 Japanese soldiers lost their lives in this battle.
As I write this I feel heaviness in my heart and a deep sense of tension between these two views of the beautiful island. It is an idyllic tropical paradise and at the same time, it is also an example of an ecological disaster caused by the thoughtless development of our throw-away society and the narrow purposes of the military. But these two views alone do not encompass the whole story of Midway.
In many parts of the world there is growing concern and organized action to undo the effects of ocean pollution and the many threats to wildlife. On Midway itself I have participated over the past days in active efforts led by dedicated refuge staff to save endangered wildlife and restore badly needed habitat. While the effects of environmental degradation caused by historic human impacts are still obvious, now I can also see where people have begun to make a difference.
I know now that the Laysan duck, monk seal, and green sea turtle populations are rebounding from near extinction, due to efforts of dedicated researchers and wildlife managers. Thanks to an enormous effort by the military, the accidentally introduced black rat was finally eradicated in 1997, allowing small ground nesting species such as the Bonin petrel to make a comeback on the island.
The Verbesina that once covered most of the island has been cleared from large areas through the dedication and tremendous efforts of refuge staff and volunteers. Native bunchgrasses are taking root, providing shade and cover for ground nesting birds. These grasses were raised in greenhouses and carefully planted by hand. A management plan has been drafted that will guide the removal of many of the ironwood trees, and their replacement with native shrubs and tree species.
An enormous quantity of non-native soil was brought to the island in past years, making the island no longer a totally natural area, but people are working hard to repair the damage caused by past “standard” practices, and are making increasing efforts to integrate nature with human occupancy and use. Having spent a few days on Midway I can now see the results of restoration efforts all over the island: rehabilitation of natural seeps, invasive plant control, historic building restoration, and marine debris clean-up.
There are even plans to restore many of the old Albert Kahn buildings on the island. Many of the salvageable buildings are currently being renovated for use as housing and offices for year-round residents of Sand Island. There are extraordinary efforts underway to make habitation on the island sustainable. Hydoponic gardens supply many kinds of fresh produce for islanders and strategies to save energy and water in line with sustainable practices are happening now.
The most important message I took with me when I left Midway was that natural world here has endured through years of changing uses: from a communications depot, an important military installation, and finally a wildlife refuge of global significance. Scientists, educators, and visitors to this special place are spreading the word on marine debris and its impact on the ecosystem. Conservation groups such as the Surfrider Foundation and World Wildlife Fund are helping in this effort.
These and many other efforts are starting to link up worldwide, leading to a growing sense of questioning the purposes and methods of a culture based on disposable products. For the first time since the plastic boom that began in the 1950s, people are beginning to see that we can’t go on this way, as the truth on plastics is reaching the general public. Cities in Ireland, Australia, and China have already banned one time use plastic bags, and the UN is now calling for a global ban. I have been a lifelong conservationist and supporter of environmental causes, but it was not until my trip to Midway that I really became fully conscious of the consequences of my unexamined consumer habits, especially my use of one-time use plastic products.
When I feel as if th
e glass is half full, I think of Midway and the loveliness of a tropical island paradise with abundant sea bird populations and clear blue ocean waters. When it seems the glass is half empty, I see a trash-strewn and weed-infested island, where coral, birds, seals, and sea turtles have an uphill battle to fight extinction. But what is really happening is that people - seeing Midway through the lens of hope supported by inspired action – are devoting themselves to the painstaking effort of restoring this beautiful place to keep the legacy of the refuge alive for future generations. Like ripples on a pond, this message is continuing to travel across the world. Now that I have experienced and fallen in love with Midway, I know this is the direction we must travel together.
With aloha and kuleana,
Karen Matsumoto deChadenedes
First, I feel humbled by the privilege of having been one of twelve participants in an amazing environmental leadership program in Midway Atoll. I hope to be an environmental ambassador for the NW Hawaiian Islands as a result of my experiences there. The home communities and work of all twelve participants vary widely, but our shared experience here on Midway help us to find common ground.
Sand Island on
Midway Atoll fits most people’s idea of a tropical paradise. Bicycling across the island, I dodge baby albatrosses waiting for their parents to return with food. I will learn that the adult birds fly 1,200 miles every other week to the Bering Sea and points beyond. The young birds are not wary of humans. Now and then one of them will look up and clack its bill at me and I hear moaning coos or high-pitched peeps from near and far as they call out to their parents. The fledglings sit neatly spaced in fields of fragrant white fragrant flowers in roughly formed nests. The parent birds ignore humans as they feed their chicks, regurgitating the squid and other food they have foraged from distant seas. They are dedicated parents, and it is a joy to watch them with their young.Walking down the trail, I see white terns roosting on branches and cliff ledges. They swoop and hover around me like little fairies, usually just checking me out but sometimes even landing on an outstretched hand.
Further down the trail thousands of yellow sunflowers bloom in the fields with their rich green foliage, a gorgeous contrast of color against the clear blue sky. These fields of sunflowers outline the sand hills of the northernmost part of the island. More albatross fledglings and other sea birds sit among the plants waiting for their parents to return.
Going down to the beach, I stoop to pick up some colorful striped cone shells, and the tiniest chubby sand dollar I’ve ever seen, bleached white like the coral sand. Walking down the smooth, peaceful stretch of sandy beach, I spot a monk seal sunning in the sand with its sleepy pup. A honu, or green sea turtle, basks on a large rock nearby.
Walking back from the beach through a forest of trees that look like some kind of pine, the branches are dotted with more tiny white terns. There is a peaceful-looking cemetery nearby, the old headstones a memorial to island residents otherwise unremembered.
I later learn that the island has been an important site for religious and ceremonial purposes for centuries by early native Hawaiians. More recently around the middle of the 20th century, buildings designed by the renowned industrial architect Albert Kahn were constructed here. The clean lines and distinct design features of the buildings remind me of Frank Lloyd Wright. It wasn’t that long ago this island was a bustling community, built with care and serving important purposes.
Roads criss-cross the island and the old airstrips built by the U.S. military during WWII are still here. Many of the albatross nesting grounds are alongside and even on the roads. Albatross babies sit on manhole covers their parents chose as nesting places. Many wait in less developed areas that have been taken over by invasive non-native plants, and some sit among fields of Alyssum plants that were introduced to keep down noxious weeds and provide groundcover.
The ground around the nesting areas is strewn with bits of plastic garbage: cigarette
lighters, bits of fishing line, lego blocks, toothbrushes, bottle caps, and pieces of plastic of all colors, shapes, and sizes. These have been brought back by the parents mixed with the squid and fish eggs collected to feed their young. Floating in the sea, they were first swallowed by the parents, then regurgitated and swallowed by the growing babies along with food. Albatrosses cough up indigestible parts of their diets such as squid beaks and eyeballs – and all kinds of plastic debris - as boluses similar to owl pellets. The organic components of the boluses eventually decompose, leaving the plastic bits on the ground. Here and there I come across a decomposed albatross carcass and I can see the mass of plastic debris that filled its stomach.The lovely yellow sunflowers that cover much of the island are Verbesina encelioides or golden crown-beard, an invasive weed that can quickly choke out all native vegetation. The thick foliage of Verbesina, up to four feet tall and dense enough to block cooling breezes from the sea, can create stagnant “dead zones” where it can be ten degrees hotter than surrounding areas. Many fledglings, whose instinct is to stay where their parents leave them, die here with no escape from the heat. Thickets of verbesina can also make it difficult for parents to find their babies, and for other ground-nesting or burrowing birds to find a place to nest.
On the sand around the monk seals on the beach are plastic buoys, colorful laundry hampers, and tangled piles of rope. A monk seal pup playfully investigates a plastic jug washed up on the shore. The honu’s basking place is actually a concrete boat ramp strewn with plastic marine debris.
The pine-like forest is made up of ironwood trees from Australia, another non-native species that has replaced naupaka and other kinds of native shrubby vegetation. Albatross and other birds have trouble flying around and among these trees and often crash into them and die. In this area Verbesina and ironwood have also taken over precious habitat for ground-nesting birds.
The historic Kahn-designed buildings, as well as many of the former shops and maintenance sheds on the island, are in varying stages of decay and disrepair. Many of the white terns use crumbling windows sills as nesting “cliffs”. Falling roofs and eroding walls are hazards to people and animals. I see young birds standing listlessly, unable to hold their wings up off the ground, the effects of poisoning from eating lead paint chips.
I learn that the peaceful cemetery we observed had gravestones marking the final resting place of several key American military doctors and others whose lives were lost during World War II. Most Americans, if they recognize the name “Midway” at all, know it only as the site of a battle considered an important turning point in the Pacific war. In June of 1942 four Japanese aircraft carriers and a heavy cruiser were sunk in exchange for one American aircraft carrier and a destroyer. Over 300 Americans and more than 3,000 Japanese soldiers lost their lives in this battle.
As I write this I feel heaviness in my heart and a deep sense of tension between these two views of the beautiful island. It is an idyllic tropical paradise and at the same time, it is also an example of an ecological disaster caused by the thoughtless development of our throw-away society and the narrow purposes of the military. But these two views alone do not encompass the whole story of Midway.
In many parts of the world there is growing concern and organized action to undo the effects of ocean pollution and the many threats to wildlife. On Midway itself I have participated over the past days in active efforts led by dedicated refuge staff to save endangered wildlife and restore badly needed habitat. While the effects of environmental degradation caused by historic human impacts are still obvious, now I can also see where people have begun to make a difference.
I know now that the Laysan duck, monk seal, and green sea turtle populations are rebounding from near extinction, due to efforts of dedicated researchers and wildlife managers. Thanks to an enormous effort by the military, the accidentally introduced black rat was finally eradicated in 1997, allowing small ground nesting species such as the Bonin petrel to make a comeback on the island.
The Verbesina that once covered most of the island has been cleared from large areas through the dedication and tremendous efforts of refuge staff and volunteers. Native bunchgrasses are taking root, providing shade and cover for ground nesting birds. These grasses were raised in greenhouses and carefully planted by hand. A management plan has been drafted that will guide the removal of many of the ironwood trees, and their replacement with native shrubs and tree species.
An enormous quantity of non-native soil was brought to the island in past years, making the island no longer a totally natural area, but people are working hard to repair the damage caused by past “standard” practices, and are making increasing efforts to integrate nature with human occupancy and use. Having spent a few days on Midway I can now see the results of restoration efforts all over the island: rehabilitation of natural seeps, invasive plant control, historic building restoration, and marine debris clean-up.
There are even plans to restore many of the old Albert Kahn buildings on the island. Many of the salvageable buildings are currently being renovated for use as housing and offices for year-round residents of Sand Island. There are extraordinary efforts underway to make habitation on the island sustainable. Hydoponic gardens supply many kinds of fresh produce for islanders and strategies to save energy and water in line with sustainable practices are happening now.
The most important message I took with me when I left Midway was that natural world here has endured through years of changing uses: from a communications depot, an important military installation, and finally a wildlife refuge of global significance. Scientists, educators, and visitors to this special place are spreading the word on marine debris and its impact on the ecosystem. Conservation groups such as the Surfrider Foundation and World Wildlife Fund are helping in this effort.
These and many other efforts are starting to link up worldwide, leading to a growing sense of questioning the purposes and methods of a culture based on disposable products. For the first time since the plastic boom that began in the 1950s, people are beginning to see that we can’t go on this way, as the truth on plastics is reaching the general public. Cities in Ireland, Australia, and China have already banned one time use plastic bags, and the UN is now calling for a global ban. I have been a lifelong conservationist and supporter of environmental causes, but it was not until my trip to Midway that I really became fully conscious of the consequences of my unexamined consumer habits, especially my use of one-time use plastic products.
When I feel as if th
e glass is half full, I think of Midway and the loveliness of a tropical island paradise with abundant sea bird populations and clear blue ocean waters. When it seems the glass is half empty, I see a trash-strewn and weed-infested island, where coral, birds, seals, and sea turtles have an uphill battle to fight extinction. But what is really happening is that people - seeing Midway through the lens of hope supported by inspired action – are devoting themselves to the painstaking effort of restoring this beautiful place to keep the legacy of the refuge alive for future generations. Like ripples on a pond, this message is continuing to travel across the world. Now that I have experienced and fallen in love with Midway, I know this is the direction we must travel together.With aloha and kuleana,
Karen Matsumoto deChadenedes
Saturday, June 27, 2009
A Message from Ron: Nichol and Fred
Photo credit: Ron HirschiWhen I was on Midway, I learned that our daughter, Nichol, had been hospitalized with a serious condition......This was not easy as a Father. But home now, Nichol is doing better and has been sent many kind words from PAA Ohana. Here she is on Marrowstone Island with Fred. Fred is a monkey who kinda stole everyone's heart on our journey. He messed up a Kindergarten Classroom last year and will continue to travel with me to share our work with kids in a fun and postive way. Fred wears a band from a Papahanaumokuakea Albatross and talks story with the best of monkeys. Look for him and his sister, Coco wherever you travel.
Ron Hirschi, Marrowstone Island, Washington
PAA Last Will poem: by Carlie Wiener
To the PAA group on your final day
This last will and testament will be my final say.
This trip has been amazing and oh so much fun,
And we’re all going back 20 pounds heavier, our gluttony is done.
Where will we go at 4:30 next week?
Captain Brooks will be far away and the boluses with squid beaks.
So with this farewell, here we go,
What I leave to you based on what I have gotten to know...
To Annie a song for the world to hear,
And to Terry some fish nets making traditional Hawaiian gear.
To Darius, well um what can I say?
Dessert perhaps, with your plate of whip cream everyday.
To Jeff we wish we could leave you here,
To become one with the albatrosses and soar far and near.
And to your partner in crime, yes Ron that is you.
Swimming with the fish and then we will ID you too.
And while you’re at sea being one with the fish,
We will send you a postcard with our environmental wish.
A ray of sunshine our Sunny is,
And for you dear Sunny we leave you a green harvest biz.
With all the room on the Hilo side,
We will take the profits sand make you our monk seal guide.
And Karen, wow have you stopped smiling yet?
Your positive energy is not easily met.
And for you, well what do we give?
A journal for your amazing work and a marine debris sieve.
And Miriam our triathlon champ,
A jar of peanut butter for snacks while at camp.
Kathy my roommate with your energy and heart,
To you I give an alarm clock that never really starts.
Trevor kept the kokua the whole trip through,
And we should leave him a life jacket for when he goes overboard too.
Now Meg how about a pair of walking shoes?
Your falling fate would not make the Midway news.
And now for the facilitators, where would we be without you?
Well how about lets start with the biggest mahalo for all that you do.
To Dani, we leave your interviews done,
So you can get on with it and have some fun.
We also leave you any Midway sport,
From darts to bowling she’s the best in the court.
To Linda we leave you a funny hat,
And an official schedule with no changes, how about that?
To Anne we leave lots of string to perfect your braiding arts,
And find your wow moment in tiny sand dollar parts.
Walter Bea is next with her patience and smile,
I promise one day our E Ho Mai will get some real style.
And last but not least Tracy our faithful guide,
To you we leave a day off to enjoy the outside.
And so this concludes the PAA Last Will.
I can't believe its over, I really have the chills.
I will miss this group and the inspiration they provide,
We are now connected tested, trued and tried.
So please remember each other in the projects that you do,
And our time at Midway this special place and our friends here too.
Although you won't get to sort through carcasses everyday,
The messages you bring home will be the inspiring way.
And to you all I bid a safe trip home,
To release your environmental ethics under the education dome.
And once more a mahalo to the Midway staff team,
For you really all made our whole group beam.
This last will and testament will be my final say.
This trip has been amazing and oh so much fun,
And we’re all going back 20 pounds heavier, our gluttony is done.
Where will we go at 4:30 next week?
Captain Brooks will be far away and the boluses with squid beaks.
So with this farewell, here we go,
What I leave to you based on what I have gotten to know...
To Annie a song for the world to hear,
And to Terry some fish nets making traditional Hawaiian gear.
To Darius, well um what can I say?
Dessert perhaps, with your plate of whip cream everyday.
To Jeff we wish we could leave you here,
To become one with the albatrosses and soar far and near.
And to your partner in crime, yes Ron that is you.
Swimming with the fish and then we will ID you too.
And while you’re at sea being one with the fish,
We will send you a postcard with our environmental wish.
A ray of sunshine our Sunny is,
And for you dear Sunny we leave you a green harvest biz.
With all the room on the Hilo side,
We will take the profits sand make you our monk seal guide.
And Karen, wow have you stopped smiling yet?
Your positive energy is not easily met.
And for you, well what do we give?
A journal for your amazing work and a marine debris sieve.
And Miriam our triathlon champ,
A jar of peanut butter for snacks while at camp.
Kathy my roommate with your energy and heart,
To you I give an alarm clock that never really starts.
Trevor kept the kokua the whole trip through,
And we should leave him a life jacket for when he goes overboard too.
Now Meg how about a pair of walking shoes?
Your falling fate would not make the Midway news.
And now for the facilitators, where would we be without you?
Well how about lets start with the biggest mahalo for all that you do.
To Dani, we leave your interviews done,
So you can get on with it and have some fun.
We also leave you any Midway sport,
From darts to bowling she’s the best in the court.
To Linda we leave you a funny hat,
And an official schedule with no changes, how about that?
To Anne we leave lots of string to perfect your braiding arts,
And find your wow moment in tiny sand dollar parts.
Walter Bea is next with her patience and smile,
I promise one day our E Ho Mai will get some real style.
And last but not least Tracy our faithful guide,
To you we leave a day off to enjoy the outside.
And so this concludes the PAA Last Will.
I can't believe its over, I really have the chills.
I will miss this group and the inspiration they provide,
We are now connected tested, trued and tried.
So please remember each other in the projects that you do,
And our time at Midway this special place and our friends here too.
Although you won't get to sort through carcasses everyday,
The messages you bring home will be the inspiring way.
And to you all I bid a safe trip home,
To release your environmental ethics under the education dome.
And once more a mahalo to the Midway staff team,
For you really all made our whole group beam.
Midway Day 7 - Culture and Science: by Karen Matsumoto
Ron started off with a “Guess how many spines on an urchin” guessing game, based on a question asked by one of his Ohio Kindergarten students. Terry came closest with 275! Ron reminded us that the total number of spines really depends on the species of urchin.We continued to learn about the cultural connections of first peoples in Hawai’i and the places we live. Ron specifically pointed out the traditional hunting and fishing grounds of Olympic Peninsula in Washington that were guaranteed by the Point-No-Point Treaty of 1856. The traditional subsistence fishing and hunting areas went from the coastline to the sea, similar to the Ahupua’a land divisions in Hawaii that were based on sustainable units that include fresh water, beach access, and ocean waters.
Terry helped us to learn traditional learning pedagogies that included the use of riddles and song! We all tried our hand at composing riddles about the things we have seen and experienced on Midway. Here’s a sample from Walterbea:
Here and there
we’re everywhere.
Without a care in the world.
Answer: marine debris
Terry also facilitated a traditional way of learning navigation without GPS or a compass. Hawaiians found their way to their destinations by making songs about the various waypoints along the way, using landmarks and stories. These were called traveling songs. We broke into groups and each made a traveling song about Midway Island.
Photo credits: Karen MatsumotoSaturday, June 20, 2009
Midway Day 6 - Laysan Ducks: by Trevor Atkins
Birds don’t interest me. I’m not sure why, but I suppose that for every passion we have, there is something else to which we are ambivalent. My passion is plants. I was raised to love them. I grew up growing them up. I think our loves often develop when we are very young. My ambivalence is birds. I can appreciate the big ones, because I grew up with them: pueo (owl) and `io (hawk). But the rest are all the same to me: feathers, beaks, brittle bones, and little legs. I can’t see them the way Jeff sees them, the way Ron and Karen see them.
But after hearing the story of Laysan ducks from the one and only John Klavitter (Wildlife Biologist with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service), I can appreciate their presence here. They are one of only three native ducks/geese left in Hawai`i, along with koloa and nene. Eight other species have gone extinct and the Laysan duck was casted to be the ninth. It came one animal away from extinction!
Once found throughout the Hawaiian Archipelago, the ducks were reduced to a single colony on Laysan island: 10 males, 1 female. Huge efforts went in to habitat restoration, monitoring, and medical intervention. The population quickly flourished and Laysan was soon full to capacity with them. So, in order to diversify their distribution, researchers created new habitats on Midway. They dug a few feet down through the concrete and coral to the water table, creating wetlands from freshwater seeps, landscaped with makaloa and native bunch grass. Eventually, 21 ducks were brought in and all survived the translocation. To everyone’s surprise, the one-year old ducks reproduced offspring that spring. Each year since then, the population has doubled.
Now they face a new challenge. Avian botulism, a disease caused by toxins from warm-water bacteria, broke out in the hot summer of 2008. The disease attacks the nervous system and causes an inability for the ducks to lift their heads. Many drown. Nearly half the Midway population was lost last summer. Then, this past Saturday, as summer temperatures rose, the first case in 2009 was reported.
This afternoon, John Klavitter treated one duck with a vaccine. Meanwhile, the “dead albatross undertaker” and others are collecting albatross fledgling corpses across the island to prevent the possibility of maggots carrying the now isolated disease around the island.
I still can’t tell the difference between all these terns and noddies and shearwaters, but the Laysan duck has captured my heart.
Photo credit: Dani Carter
But after hearing the story of Laysan ducks from the one and only John Klavitter (Wildlife Biologist with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service), I can appreciate their presence here. They are one of only three native ducks/geese left in Hawai`i, along with koloa and nene. Eight other species have gone extinct and the Laysan duck was casted to be the ninth. It came one animal away from extinction!
Once found throughout the Hawaiian Archipelago, the ducks were reduced to a single colony on Laysan island: 10 males, 1 female. Huge efforts went in to habitat restoration, monitoring, and medical intervention. The population quickly flourished and Laysan was soon full to capacity with them. So, in order to diversify their distribution, researchers created new habitats on Midway. They dug a few feet down through the concrete and coral to the water table, creating wetlands from freshwater seeps, landscaped with makaloa and native bunch grass. Eventually, 21 ducks were brought in and all survived the translocation. To everyone’s surprise, the one-year old ducks reproduced offspring that spring. Each year since then, the population has doubled.
Now they face a new challenge. Avian botulism, a disease caused by toxins from warm-water bacteria, broke out in the hot summer of 2008. The disease attacks the nervous system and causes an inability for the ducks to lift their heads. Many drown. Nearly half the Midway population was lost last summer. Then, this past Saturday, as summer temperatures rose, the first case in 2009 was reported.
This afternoon, John Klavitter treated one duck with a vaccine. Meanwhile, the “dead albatross undertaker” and others are collecting albatross fledgling corpses across the island to prevent the possibility of maggots carrying the now isolated disease around the island.
I still can’t tell the difference between all these terns and noddies and shearwaters, but the Laysan duck has captured my heart.
Photo credit: Dani Carter
Midway Day 6 - Eastern Island: by Ron Hirschi
Okay. It was a day of dolphins streaming past our boats, Sooty Terns, Iwa and Redfooted Boobies, and life-listing birds for Jeff….Christmas Shearwaters glistening black just above the rubble where a huge school of Aholehole linger. Gray-backed Terns at their “nests” – a simple drop upon the ground. Noddies as if painted by chocolate bars.We were treated by Matt Brown, to the most hopeful of sites --- Short tailed Albatross decoys standing in wait. This past year a mated pair scooped out a nest bowl. Matt’s positive smile confirms: They will come back to lay eggs and raise young next year; this, one of the rarest of the rare. Then too, Matt shared with deserved pride, how the Laysan Ducks have rebounded here thanks to habitat restoration. Their pond was alive with ducks when we were honored to visit.
But now that we are back on the “Big Island of Sand”, all hearts go out to our friend and partner in this adventure, Meg who cut her knee in a fall! The entire town came out to help and wish her well when she fell. Carlie quick with the flush of water, Jeff with a first aid kit handy, and Darius the cobbler repairing the blown out flip flop. Then off island and to stitchery quick. All hands deserve many thanks and all hands give Meg a big Aloha.
We can only wish that Meg will get to take a ride with John Miller out to see the dolphins.
Photo credits: Dani CarterMidway Day 5 - Marine Research: by Trevor Atkins
I’m warm and I’m home. Captain Charlie Barracks is my residence. Jeff, Ron, Carlie, and Dani are my family. My body is worn from adventure today. I awoke at 5:30 am and went southeast to wake the sun. I bumped along the southern shore and across the vast runway to the most desolate point on the island. The terns and shearwaters, guarding their eggs, attacked me, the ignorant intruder. I pedaled home hard and found Radio Hill as the sun peaked over the many ironwoods in Midway town. In the Radio Hill ruins I found Laysan ducks and again I felt invasive. We men are nothing but destruction. We leave no rock unturned. My bike to them is an F-16 fighter jet flying low over a small town. I’m sorry. Humans don’t deserve to see this. We only ruin it. Can anything exist without us interrogating? Can a tree fall in a forest unquestioned? Silly humans. We’ll be gone soon and the albatross will live on.
I’m still saturated in salt from this morning. My hair is deliciously knotted into bunches from today’s perfect sequence of events. We motored out to the far side of the emergent reef and snorkeled around Reef Hotel. The corals were purple, the fishes were blue, and the rusty rubbish was everywhere as always. I wanted to stay longer. I wanted to wander the whole atoll, circumnavigate it with my eyes underwater. But we had work to do. Or Kate did anyway. She’s a researcher from Santa Cruz looking at how marine life responds to different levels of sedimentation in various locations around the atoll.
We found our GPS location to within a few meters. The sea was choppy, even inside the atoll. Darius, Terry, and Ann jumped in with Kate and dove down to sample the sea floor. Karen and I stayed onboard and got a little seasick in the rough swells. Our anchor got stuck as we tried to leave, but we survived. Then we motored out of Wells’ Harbor, the atoll’s natural opening. Outside the reef, the waves were 3-5 feet swells, crashing hard into the emergent reef. We must have been going 30 knots, slapping the water with our bow. It was rough and wet. We came back past Sand Island and zoomed out the artificial south channel to see Eastern Island, the rusty barge and more birds feeding on the water. When our spines were sufficiently compressed, we returned for lunch.
photo credit: Dani Carter
I’m still saturated in salt from this morning. My hair is deliciously knotted into bunches from today’s perfect sequence of events. We motored out to the far side of the emergent reef and snorkeled around Reef Hotel. The corals were purple, the fishes were blue, and the rusty rubbish was everywhere as always. I wanted to stay longer. I wanted to wander the whole atoll, circumnavigate it with my eyes underwater. But we had work to do. Or Kate did anyway. She’s a researcher from Santa Cruz looking at how marine life responds to different levels of sedimentation in various locations around the atoll.We found our GPS location to within a few meters. The sea was choppy, even inside the atoll. Darius, Terry, and Ann jumped in with Kate and dove down to sample the sea floor. Karen and I stayed onboard and got a little seasick in the rough swells. Our anchor got stuck as we tried to leave, but we survived. Then we motored out of Wells’ Harbor, the atoll’s natural opening. Outside the reef, the waves were 3-5 feet swells, crashing hard into the emergent reef. We must have been going 30 knots, slapping the water with our bow. It was rough and wet. We came back past Sand Island and zoomed out the artificial south channel to see Eastern Island, the rusty barge and more birds feeding on the water. When our spines were sufficiently compressed, we returned for lunch.
photo credit: Dani Carter
Friday, June 19, 2009
Midway Day 5 - Snorkeling: by Carlie Wiener
The Many Shades of Midway
The many shades of Midway awaken the senses, never before have you seen so many hues of blue. Underwater the vibrant colors jump out at the eyes, flashes of greens, oranges and pinks swim by as fish dart between the corals. Crystal clear waters gently lap the reef crests displaying the pristine reefs. Lace coral decorates the ocean floor along with huge sea cucumbers and bright red pencil urchins. The eager faces of the participants show the excitement which they can not contain.
Today, the group was treated with the unique opportunity to swim in one of the last predator dominated ecosystems. Awestruck and intimidated by the vastness of turquoise blue waters, participants rode the U.S. Fish and Wildlife boat to our snorkel destination, Hotel Reef. The group could not wait to enter the water, excited by the chance to swim in the middle of an old volcano. Swimming in the surprisingly cool Monument waters the group swam the perimeter of the reef watching brightly colored uhu (parrot fish), mimicking the swift movements of the giant ulua (blue fin trevally) and admiring the healthy coral. Excited to share their snorkeling experiences, the group exchanged stories back on the boat and looked up the fish they saw in the ID books. Today’s snorkel excursion was just one of the many amazing activities offered this week. Teresia Teaiwa in Epeli Hau̒ofa ‘s We Are The Ocean quotes “We sweat and cry salt water, so we know that the ocean is really in our blood”.
photo credits: Carlie Wiener
The many shades of Midway awaken the senses, never before have you seen so many hues of blue. Underwater the vibrant colors jump out at the eyes, flashes of greens, oranges and pinks swim by as fish dart between the corals. Crystal clear waters gently lap the reef crests displaying the pristine reefs. Lace coral decorates the ocean floor along with huge sea cucumbers and bright red pencil urchins. The eager faces of the participants show the excitement which they can not contain.Today, the group was treated with the unique opportunity to swim in one of the last predator dominated ecosystems. Awestruck and intimidated by the vastness of turquoise blue waters, participants rode the U.S. Fish and Wildlife boat to our snorkel destination, Hotel Reef. The group could not wait to enter the water, excited by the chance to swim in the middle of an old volcano. Swimming in the surprisingly cool Monument waters the group swam the perimeter of the reef watching brightly colored uhu (parrot fish), mimicking the swift movements of the giant ulua (blue fin trevally) and admiring the healthy coral. Excited to share their snorkeling experiences, the group exchanged stories back on the boat and looked up the fish they saw in the ID books. Today’s snorkel excursion was just one of the many amazing activities offered this week. Teresia Teaiwa in Epeli Hau̒ofa ‘s We Are The Ocean quotes “We sweat and cry salt water, so we know that the ocean is really in our blood”.
photo credits: Carlie Wiener
Midway Day 4 - Invasive Plants: by Terry Reveira
Today we met Greg Schubert and he talked to us about invasive plant species and how they are trying to control them here. The one we learned about and will be doing a project with is the Verbacina. It is has a pretty yellow flower like a daisy and looks like a bush. It grows very quickly and takes over an area in a few months. The good thing is it can be removed easily because it has a shallow root system so you just yank it out of the ground. A problem that occurs is after you remove it the seeds in the ground begin to grow as soon as there is rain, so you have to remove it before it seeds or during and then continue to weed the area for regrowth. You also have to plant another plant to take over the area. We planted a native grass - about 400 plants! It was great. Everyone was pulling up plants, piling them up, then planting the new grass plant. We could really see a big difference in the area!
photo credit: Dani CarterWednesday, June 17, 2009
Midway Day 4 - Monk Seals: by Meghan Marrero
On Saturday, while taking in the Midway sights—pristine azure water, fine white sand, impossibly blue sky—a Hawaiian Monk Seal and her pup came cruising toward us, parallel to the shoreline. As the pair got closer, they lifted up their heads, curiously spying on us, and then began swimming closer and closer. Eventually, they got so near to us that we had to scurry up the beach to keep the requisite distance of 150 ft!
Unfortunately, not all seal encounters are this friendly. Hawaiian Monk Seals are one of the most endangered seals in the world, with approximately 1100-1200 individuals remaining, and a declining population. Their Hawaiian name, “’Ilio holoi ka uaua,” literally means, “the dog that runs in the rough (seas).” Most of the threats to these beautiful native animals are human, including entanglement in ghost nets, hooking by fish hooks, and habitat disturbance. When humans encounter these animals, they may not realize the importance of keeping their distance so that the seals can get their much needed rest on the beach.
During today’s seal module, PAA participants met with scientists Brenda Becker and Krista Graham, who introduced us to Hawaiian Monk Seal life history and some of the important research projects that they and other scientists are conducting. We then got to watch the team place a flipper tag on a newly weaned Monk Seal pup. These tags, along with photographs, allow scientists to identify individual seals and track them through adulthood, at least 25-30 years.
If you do happen to encounter these or other seals on your local beach, be sure to keep the following ‘rules’ in mind:
• Enjoy them from a distance, at least 150 feet
• Do not disturb them
• Keep dogs and other animals away from them
• Clean up after your pets—feces can carry disease
• Pick up your garbage and do not litter—most marine debris comes from land!
Photo credits: Meghan Marrero
Unfortunately, not all seal encounters are this friendly. Hawaiian Monk Seals are one of the most endangered seals in the world, with approximately 1100-1200 individuals remaining, and a declining population. Their Hawaiian name, “’Ilio holoi ka uaua,” literally means, “the dog that runs in the rough (seas).” Most of the threats to these beautiful native animals are human, including entanglement in ghost nets, hooking by fish hooks, and habitat disturbance. When humans encounter these animals, they may not realize the importance of keeping their distance so that the seals can get their much needed rest on the beach.
During today’s seal module, PAA participants met with scientists Brenda Becker and Krista Graham, who introduced us to Hawaiian Monk Seal life history and some of the important research projects that they and other scientists are conducting. We then got to watch the team place a flipper tag on a newly weaned Monk Seal pup. These tags, along with photographs, allow scientists to identify individual seals and track them through adulthood, at least 25-30 years.If you do happen to encounter these or other seals on your local beach, be sure to keep the following ‘rules’ in mind:
• Enjoy them from a distance, at least 150 feet
• Do not disturb them
• Keep dogs and other animals away from them
• Clean up after your pets—feces can carry disease
• Pick up your garbage and do not litter—most marine debris comes from land!
Photo credits: Meghan Marrero
Kaneloa
The Voyager’s Dream
By Walterbea Aldeguer
June 16, 2009, 2:23 A.M.
Charlie Barracks, Midway
Look where the dream has taken me, oh sweet kupuna kane
Westward to the far reaches of the sun to Pihe Manu
Your head touched the sky
The horizon only knee deep
You said follow me and
I replied, “But I am not a strong swimmer.”
You smiled and said to me,
“Overcome the fear and you will understand. Follow me.”
O sweet kupuna kane, how I love your teachings of the night
O sweet Kaneloa, the voyager and revealer of dreams.
By Walterbea Aldeguer
June 16, 2009, 2:23 A.M.
Charlie Barracks, Midway
Look where the dream has taken me, oh sweet kupuna kane
Westward to the far reaches of the sun to Pihe Manu
Your head touched the sky
The horizon only knee deep
You said follow me and
I replied, “But I am not a strong swimmer.”
You smiled and said to me,
“Overcome the fear and you will understand. Follow me.”
O sweet kupuna kane, how I love your teachings of the night
O sweet Kaneloa, the voyager and revealer of dreams.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Midway Day 3 - Fish Hooks: by Sunny Seal-LaPlante
Terry Riviera from the Big Island had wooden fish hook shapes and kukui nuts for us to work with as a craft, to learn about how fish hooks were made, some of the uses for the kukui, and the story of Maui.
Some of the fish hooks were made in two pieces so that if the fish was so strong to take the hook only half of it would break off. For opelu fish hooks were made from shiny shells as they are attracted to that. The kukui tree is a common plant brought by the Polynesians as the nuts are used for lighting. Strung on a midrib the nuts are so oily they burn like mini-torches. Kukui also has the word meaning of “enlightenment.”
So we as a group spent a good hour using coral and sandpaper to smooth our fishhooks or kukui nuts, then using Kukui nutmeat to oil up our wood and braiding or twisting cordage to make the part that goes around our necks. Each one of us had some success.
Meanwhile we heard about Maui the demi-god whose fish hook still hangs in the night sky- the constellation of Scorpius, and how his Grandmother told him a chant for his fishhook so that it could catch anything. Then he and his brothers went out fishing and snagged the islands. He told his brothers “Don’t look back!” and “keep paddling, paddle harder!” He was pulling up the Northwest Hawaiian Islands, but then one of the brothers looked back and then the islands couldn’t be pulled up any higher. Stories about Maui are known through out the Pacific. There is one about how he tricked the Alae bird into giving fire to man. On the Waianae side of Oahu there is a silhouette of Maui most visible in the early morning.
And so went that part of our afternoon with arts and culture, storytelling and hands-on activities.
Photo credit: Dani Carter
Some of the fish hooks were made in two pieces so that if the fish was so strong to take the hook only half of it would break off. For opelu fish hooks were made from shiny shells as they are attracted to that. The kukui tree is a common plant brought by the Polynesians as the nuts are used for lighting. Strung on a midrib the nuts are so oily they burn like mini-torches. Kukui also has the word meaning of “enlightenment.”
So we as a group spent a good hour using coral and sandpaper to smooth our fishhooks or kukui nuts, then using Kukui nutmeat to oil up our wood and braiding or twisting cordage to make the part that goes around our necks. Each one of us had some success.Meanwhile we heard about Maui the demi-god whose fish hook still hangs in the night sky- the constellation of Scorpius, and how his Grandmother told him a chant for his fishhook so that it could catch anything. Then he and his brothers went out fishing and snagged the islands. He told his brothers “Don’t look back!” and “keep paddling, paddle harder!” He was pulling up the Northwest Hawaiian Islands, but then one of the brothers looked back and then the islands couldn’t be pulled up any higher. Stories about Maui are known through out the Pacific. There is one about how he tricked the Alae bird into giving fire to man. On the Waianae side of Oahu there is a silhouette of Maui most visible in the early morning.
And so went that part of our afternoon with arts and culture, storytelling and hands-on activities.
Photo credit: Dani Carter
Midway Day 3 - Sustainability: by Kathy Knoeppel
It’s Monday on Sand Island in the Midway Atoll. As part of learning about the Hawaiian culture we have been learning Hawaiian words. Two words that we learned today are malama – to take care of and kuleana – responsibility. I thought about these words as we visited the islands hydroponics greenhouse, the power plant and the water purification plant.As Tracy and Matt, our U.S. Fish & Wildlife guides, talked they impressed upon us the importance of the island being self-sustaining. For instance, at the hydroponics greenhouse, we were told that the amount of vegetables grown using this system saved the cost of one transport flight to the island. This was equivalent to the salary of the hydroponics person’s for a year—not to mention the bonus of the fresh veggies we have been able to enjoy.
The idea of sustainability is lived every day at Midway. I like the quote that we learned about earlier this week where an 8th grader defined sustainability as “enough for everyone, everywhere; forever”. Sustainability as I saw from the hydroponics greenhouse does not come from want but from abundance.
photo credit: Dani Carter
Midway Day 3 - Albatross: by Jeff Manker
Call of the Albatross
Besides being surrounded by thousands of miles of ocean, the most significant natural phenomenon on this island are the albatross. You cannot go anywhere or e
ven look out a window without encountering them. The sleek, smooth-feathered adults with their smoky eyes and regal posture to the gawky, fuzzy-headed or Mohawked youngsters scattered across acres and acres as they patiently await the next incoming flight of food.Today John Klavitter, the refuge biologist, gave us a primer on the three species of albatross. An unfortunate side of his talk had to do with marine debris. Twenty tons of plastic accidentally arrives on the island every year. Twenty tons! Twenty-two percent of that is identifiable as coming from land sources, eighteen percent from ocean sources and the remaining sixty percent’s source is unidentifiable. He told us that fifty-five percent of the terrestrial plastic was bottle caps. With a few quick calculations I came up with 4850 lbs of bottle caps coming to this island per year! I don’t think it would be an exaggeration to say that at least half of those (probably more than a ton) are being fed to albatross chicks.
I am committed to make a difference in stopping this unnecessary deluge.
Midway Day 2: by Miriam Sutton
Midway History Tour
A home isn’t a home until you know its history; whether that history be happy, sad, trivial, or monumental. We headed out on our bikes for a historical island tour of the island, led by Tracy Ammerman (U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service). In 1903, the Commercial Pacific Cable Company (building shown at left) became the first guardians of the island after President Roosevelt placed the US Navy in charge to prevent poachers from devastating the wildlife for eggs and feathers. (The eggs were harvested for their albumen, used in photography).
PanAm Airlines brought the first visitors to Midway in 1935 to enjoy 4-star accommodations (built by PanAm). The historical event Midway is most noted for is the Battle of Midway which took place June 4 - 6, 1942. Midway’s first encounter with war actually occurred on December 7, 1941 (Pearl Harbor Day) when Japanese ships opened fire on the island about 12 hours after attacking Pearl Harbor. The Command Post and other Midway facilities, were hit. Six months later, the Battle of Midway became a critical battle in the Pacific and provided a turning point for the war. At one time, 5000 residents called Midway their home.
Most of the buildings constructed in 1903 lie in ruin today. Many of the buildings constructed during the military occupation in 1941 are still standing and have been renovated for use by the current residents (70 people) of Midway. The wildlife of Midway continues to utilize the abandoned buildings and grounds for nesting areas. It amazes me to observe how many of the birds have adapted to the anthropogenic impacts on the island. Some of them have even managed to find a use for marine debris that has washed ashore.
photo credits: Miriam Sutton
A home isn’t a home until you know its history; whether that history be happy, sad, trivial, or monumental. We headed out on our bikes for a historical island tour of the island, led by Tracy Ammerman (U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service). In 1903, the Commercial Pacific Cable Company (building shown at left) became the first guardians of the island after President Roosevelt placed the US Navy in charge to prevent poachers from devastating the wildlife for eggs and feathers. (The eggs were harvested for their albumen, used in photography).PanAm Airlines brought the first visitors to Midway in 1935 to enjoy 4-star accommodations (built by PanAm). The historical event Midway is most noted for is the Battle of Midway which took place June 4 - 6, 1942. Midway’s first encounter with war actually occurred on December 7, 1941 (Pearl Harbor Day) when Japanese ships opened fire on the island about 12 hours after attacking Pearl Harbor. The Command Post and other Midway facilities, were hit. Six months later, the Battle of Midway became a critical battle in the Pacific and provided a turning point for the war. At one time, 5000 residents called Midway their home.
Most of the buildings constructed in 1903 lie in ruin today. Many of the buildings constructed during the military occupation in 1941 are still standing and have been renovated for use by the current residents (70 people) of Midway. The wildlife of Midway continues to utilize the abandoned buildings and grounds for nesting areas. It amazes me to observe how many of the birds have adapted to the anthropogenic impacts on the island. Some of them have even managed to find a use for marine debris that has washed ashore.
photo credits: Miriam SuttonSunday, June 14, 2009
Reflections on the first day at Midway: Saturday, June 13th
Activities for the first day on Midway included a Scavenger Hunt to allow participants to explore and get oriented on Midway, as well as an evening session, led by participant Karen Matsumoto, on Nature Journaling. The following are everyone's favorite (or "wow") moments of the day:
Anne – seeing the Fairy Terns hover close overhead
Sunny – seeing all the sea turtles
Meg and Carlie – having to move off the beach when a Hawaiian Monk Seal and her pup came ashore nearby
Darius – swimming/snorkeling at the Pier and overcoming many stereotypes of animal-human interaction (i.e. not fearing the sharks that he saw)
Karen and Ron – having the plastics issue really sink in when seeing a dead Albatross chick full of plastics; and being awed watching Jeff make a lesson of it on video for his school kids
Kathy – breaking the dead Albatross chick’s wishbone with Ron and both wishing for “no more plastics”
Miriam – being wowed by not having the words to describe her experiences so far
Terry – seeing a line of Black-footed Albatross stretching and flapping their wings
Trevor – being surprised to learn about and see the amount of human impact and development on the island, and thus appreciating the restoration efforts that have occurred here (and witnessing the results of those efforts) all the more
Jeff – seeing the beauty of the Red-tailed Tropicbird
Dani – having the unexpected joy of getting lost in the forest during the scavenger hunt with her teammates (it is also a wow moment, as in “wow, how are we all this bad at reading a map?”)
Ann – seeing two Laysan Ducks trying to get into the Visitors Center (she would have never imagined, 10 yrs ago, not having to search for them!)
Walterbea – having several special encounters with a Fairy Tern, including singing Aloha Moki Hana and Lei Mamo to it.
photo credit: Darius Kalvaitis
Anne – seeing the Fairy Terns hover close overhead
Sunny – seeing all the sea turtles
Meg and Carlie – having to move off the beach when a Hawaiian Monk Seal and her pup came ashore nearby
Darius – swimming/snorkeling at the Pier and overcoming many stereotypes of animal-human interaction (i.e. not fearing the sharks that he saw)
Karen and Ron – having the plastics issue really sink in when seeing a dead Albatross chick full of plastics; and being awed watching Jeff make a lesson of it on video for his school kids
Kathy – breaking the dead Albatross chick’s wishbone with Ron and both wishing for “no more plastics”
Miriam – being wowed by not having the words to describe her experiences so far
Terry – seeing a line of Black-footed Albatross stretching and flapping their wings
Trevor – being surprised to learn about and see the amount of human impact and development on the island, and thus appreciating the restoration efforts that have occurred here (and witnessing the results of those efforts) all the more
Jeff – seeing the beauty of the Red-tailed Tropicbird
Dani – having the unexpected joy of getting lost in the forest during the scavenger hunt with her teammates (it is also a wow moment, as in “wow, how are we all this bad at reading a map?”)
Ann – seeing two Laysan Ducks trying to get into the Visitors Center (she would have never imagined, 10 yrs ago, not having to search for them!)
Walterbea – having several special encounters with a Fairy Tern, including singing Aloha Moki Hana and Lei Mamo to it.
photo credit: Darius Kalvaitis
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