Our Ocean, Our Choice

Post for Saturday June 19, 2010

Our Ocean, Our Choice
By: Sarah Wilson

Every day on Midway we open our day with a special oli (Hawaiian chant) to prepare our group for learning and openness. One morning this week Nai'a mentioned how amazing it is we are here together by choice. We chose to apply for PA'A last winter, they chose to accept us out of their copious stacks of impressive people, and we all chose to fly to this remote island archipelago in the middle (and I mean MIDDLE) of the Pacific Ocean. So here we are on our last day together on Midway and we continue to reflect on our choices....our choice in how to carry this unique experience with us in our daily life and how we will educate others. Our sessions help provide us with the content knowledge we need, while our "free" time is our personal exploration and adventures around the island that definitely fosters knowledge and inspiration. One of our sessions was exploring change in our oceans health. Robin Kundis Craig is a fellow PA'A member, environmental lawyer and professor at Florida State University College of Law in Tallahassee. She spoke to us about climate change, Marine Protected Areas (MPA's), and how the law and governance is involved in the conservation of species and ecosystems. The ocean is facing a variety of stressors from overfishing to marine debris and these combined impacts can take their toll. Add to the mix a steady change over time in climate and the combined resource use stressors and this can cause serious damage to ocean ecosystems.

Environmental law does not regulate the environment, it regulates humans. The law has to be tied to direct and indirect effects of what humans do to the environment. It is easier to prohibit a particular behavior in advance, such as oil extraction in a certain area, than it is to mandate later on in the form of habitat restoration after an oil spill. When measuring ocean use, money value is placed on ecosystem services, or the resources that ecosystems provide. Across the globe $33 trillion is provided from ecosystems and 2/3 of that value is from ocean ecosystems. With this numerical value now placed on the value of a healthy ocean….it would make sense that we want and need a healthy and productive ocean. What are the management steps Robin recommends to have this?

1.Pollution prevention….all types of pollution such as large plastics, derelict fishing gear and large scale chemical discharge and every day runoff from land.

2.Fishing regulations that are more conservative than those found now.

3.Create global Marine Protected Areas (MPA’s) which are similar to underwater national parks.

4.She advises most important is to admit that the old ideas of what is sustainability don’t work anymore and it is time for new ideas and new choices.

These regulations can contribute to a productive ocean…..but what about climate change? One major threat is the increase of carbon dioxide (CO2) in the atmosphere, and the ocean absorbs this CO2. This increase in CO2 in the ocean rises carbonic acid, making the oceans more acidic. Just like too much acid in the human body can cause issues it does in the ocean as well. From ocean animals forming week shells to coral skeletons growing at an extremely low rate ocean acidification has far reaching impacts.

So what are the top 2 things to practice to help reduce the combined harmful impacts the ocean is facing?

1.Use less…less plastic, less power, less driving.
2.Recycle plastics and papers and reuse items whenever possible.

Every day is a series of choices. What will yours be to help protect and restore the ocean?

Mahalo for joining us,
Sarah

Links to learn more:
Avoiding Jellyfish Seas, or, What Do We Mean by ‘Sustainable Oceans,’ Anyway? Article by PA’A member Robin Kundis Craig Professor with the Florida State University College of Law. Visit the Social Science Research Network to read abstract and download complete article.

http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1658109


The Ocean Takes Care of Us, Let’s Return the Favor …The ocean is a vital resource that provides food, water, commerce, recreation, medicine and even the air we breathe. Today, our ocean faces unprecedented threats from pollution, trash, declining fisheries and multiple impacts from climate change.
http://www.thankyouocean.org/


National Geographic Ocean Portal
Visit our new ocean site to dive into all things blue! Explore the sea through our rich media collection, learn about ocean issues, news and how you can get involved in conservation efforts.

http://ocean.nationalgeographic.com/ocean/

Reflections from the PAA Group

REFLECTIONS 3

Reflections on PA'A
by Robin Craig
from Waikiki, July 2, 2010

Before I was selected to participate in PA'A, I had devoted a large percentage of my law writing career to the issues of marine protection and to adaptation to climate change. Quite frankly, focusing on these two areas is often depressing--but they share the feature of being two legal areas desperately in need of more attention, and more hope. I found that hope at the Midway Atoll, located toward the far end of the Papahanaumokuakea Marine National Monument.

Three images of Midway remain iconic for me (only two of which I could adequately capture by camera). First and second were the abundance of life. While moli (albatross) chicks shared almost every aspect of our outdoor existence, the memory of birds that stays with me the most is that of the multitude of birds in flight over the islands that make up the Atoll, both Sand Island and Eastern Island. Terns, albatross, tropicbirds, and frigate birds played in the sky in unbelievable numbers, with terns and tropicbirds in particular often descending to near-earth to examine the humans walking and biking in what was clearly their domain.

A number of scientists, such as Jeremy B.C. Jackson, have tried to re-create a sense of the historic baseline of species concentrations in various ecosystems. They describe thick beds of oysters in New England and the Chesapeake Bay, turtles so numerous in the Caribbean that sailors could walk on their backs, clouds of birds so large that they could darken the skies. Only on Midway, however, have I personally experienced a true sense of what those kinds of concentration of life truly could be.

Equally important, however, was the relative ease with which those of us on the island could live with that life. Of course, there weren't many of us there (around 80, I believe), and our transportation was limited to feet and bikes most of the time, suggesting the potential value of population reductions and a less oil-dependent lifestyle elsewhere. It was amazing to me how quickly I got used to dodging moli chicks on my bike, and how much I welcomed the examination by the white terns, even though I understood that such examination generally meant that I was too near their nest or egg for their comfort.

The second image of this abundance came in the water, when we snorkeled the Atoll reef. The picture I've included conveys just a small sense of the amount and variety of life on that reef. With over 50% apex predators, these waters again convey a sense of how biodiversity-rich these ecosystems are "supposed" to be.


At the same time, however, Midway did not allow me to romanticize the struggle for survival that typifies most marine ecosystems, or to ignore the damaging legacy of human development and consumption. Plastic littered all beaches on Midway, in an amazing variety, from all over the Pacific. In 15 minutes one morning I gathered 18 fishing floats that appeared (from the writing on them) to be from at least four countries. Moreover, I was ignoring all the other plastic and glass trash I encountered, ranging from an assortment of cigarette lighters to whiskey and sake bottles.

In addition, dead and dying moli chicks were a regular encounter. Saddest for me were the living chicks with "droop wing," a deterioration of the flight muscles resulting from lead poisoning, the enduring legacy of the lead paint used on many of Midway's buildings during the war years. To watch these chicks struggle to move their wings, knowing that they had no hope of survival, was heart-wrenching, especially when I allowed myself to wonder how many would have made it but for the paint chips. Lead remediation efforts are in progress, and hopefully they will remove this toxic invasion from this living landscape.

Nevertheless, evidence of life's resiliency was also everywhere. For me, the most iconic image of Midway--and the one that is coming to stand in my mind for the whole worldwide struggle to preserve and enhance ocean biodiversity and overall health--is the lone endangered monk seal sleeping on the beach among the rusting metal hulks discarded by the military at Rusty Bucket. If these endangered marine mammals can make some kind of peace with Rusty Bucket, then perhaps there really IS hope for the oceans--and for the humans who depend on them--after all.

Reflections from the PAA Group

REFLECTION 2
by Marion Ano

My Return: A First Reflection

I have to admit returning home gave me a strange feeling. We touched down on O‘ahu at about 3:45am in the morning and in the pre-dawn hours I yearned to be back on Pihemanu. After saying our goodbyes to each other in the parking lot, I thought most about how I would share my experience with others. It didn’t take long for reality to set in that I was home and in the dark I already saw it in a whole new way. As soon as I arrived to my house I turned on my computer and looked at my pictures. I could not stay away.

A week ago today, marks my first day on Pihemanu and I miss her smell, the birds, their young voices, the incredible presence of life, the mana (life force), and the ancient spirit of that place. To be honest, I have not fully digested the experience. The space and time to do so is not as readily available here, but I’m glad to have the opportunity to reflect upon it now.

The one thing that strikes me the most upon my return is how much we have destroyed our home and how amplified our presence is here. When I compare the dormant town of Midway to Honolulu, I notice the noise. I’m just so grateful for the quiet moments I had on Pihemanu where for the first time I heard the heartbeat of Mother Nature. I’m trying to be as cognizant as I can to stay with this feeling and remain a catalyst for my own change and to inspire others to do so as well.

The lack of wildlife here is piercing and the baseline has shifted so far. I think about that a lot more than I used to. I view Papahānaumokuākea as part of us, the pae ‘āina (archipelago), and I yearn for those mea ola (living things) that connected the entire chain. If we begin to seriously consider what’s missing here and why, we would work together to repair our connection to the pae ‘āina (archipelago) as nature had worked so hard to do way before our time. Maybe, these young islands can once again be as enchanting and powerful as they were millions of years ago. Could we live in a world where more would be respected and left alone? I hope to keep this conviction close to my heart as time begins to divide my attention. I’m trying hard to remain hopeful, for our children, grandchildren, and the honua that I love so dearly.

I’m anxiously awaiting my weekend trip to Ka‘ena point to see some of the seabirds and other wildlife. I wonder what they look like here and hope to share what I know about them with my ku‘u mau hoa makamaka (my dear friends) that join me.

I had a conversation with a good friend yesterday who has also had the privilege to journey to Papahānaumokuākea and we agreed that parts of the experience could not be captured in words or in a photograph. The only way I know how to hold on to the spirit of this journey is to humbly channel aloha ‘aina (love of the land) and remain steadfast to do all that I can to protect this pae ‘aina. There is no price, there is no cost, there is only love.

Special mahalo to the pae ‘āina, the PAA ‘ohana and facilitators, my family (especially Mom and Dad), my ku‘u mau hoa makamaka (my dear friends), my mentors, and my colleagues.

Me ke aloha no,
Marion Ano

Reflections from the PAA Group

Participants from the PAA group have been asked to sit, back, relax, and reflect on their journey at Midway Atoll. The first reflection to come in is by Al Braun.

REFLECTION 1
by Al Braun

Flying a cardiac patient to Queen's Medical Center, I look out the window westward at the painted sky at sunset. My mind drifts back to our time on Midway Atoll. It's been a week since we returned, but it seems much longer.

Everywhere I looked over the last seven days there have been reminders of that special place: spinner dolphins in the water off Honokohau harbor, pictures of ulua in the doctor's office, coral on a show on the Discovery channel, and honu grazing on seaweed near the shore in Keaukaha. Each image evokes feelings and emotions that overwhelm me.

Not all of the feelings are positive. I see a myna bird carrying a piece of rubbish and think of moli chicks with their stomachs full of plastic debris accidentally fed to them by their parents. I walk through a store and see a plethora of plastic products. I wonder how many of them will eventually find their way to Pihemanu's shores.

My efforts to conserve resources, recycle, and be a more conscientious consumer have been exponentially increased. Sometimes I feel like I'm proselytizing when I tell anyone who will listen about the things I learned during this experience. When I talk about Hawaiian values, it's no longer some ethereal subject, but a practical way of life.

My life has been changed in ways that I never thought possible. I have embraced my past and look toward the future with hope and determination. I know I'll never be the same.

Cultural Component

E hō mai ka ʻike mai luna mai ē,
ʻO nā mea huna noʻeau o nā mele ē
E hō mai, e hō mai, e hō mai ē

Give forth knowledge from above
Every little bit of wisdom contained in song
Give forth, give forth, give forth

Cultural Component for PAA Program
by Al Braun

This oli (chant) by Aunty Edith Kanakaole was a fitting beginning to the cultural component of PAA 2010. It is impossible to separate the cultural roots of Pihemanu (Midway Atoll) from its story. Unlike other modules during PAA, the cultural component was woven throughout the entire experience, giving additional insight and perspective to the study of Pihemanu’s history, as well as, it's expected future.

In preparation for our journey to Pihemanu, we spent three days on Oahu learning, growing, and giving to the ‘aina (land) that would ready us for this life changing experience. We learned of the Hawaiian values that are essential for survival on a wa’a (canoe) or a moku (island). These values I was taught as a child resonated with new meaning in this paradigm. Mālama (caring), laulima (working together), kuleana (responsibility), ‘imi’ike (seeking knowledge), aloha (love), na’au pono (doing right), and loko maika’i (sharing) are all needed for a successful voyage, whether that journey is navigating across the Pacific, or navigating a course toward a sustainable future.

We also spent time in Bishop Museum's Hawaiian Hall, where we learned of the culture of a people who crossed the ocean to the world's most isolated archipelago. In the Bishop Museum's archives rooms, we viewed archeological evidence of Hawaiians found on the Northwest Hawaiian Islands of Nihoa and Mokumanamana (Necker Island). We were also able to see examples of kapa, cloth made from wauke (paper mulberry) bark, the scent of which awakened memories of seeing kupuna (elders) making it when I was a young boy.

From Oahu, we travelled on to Pihemanu. When I stepped off the airplane, I was overwhelmed by a sense of awe that I had arrived where the spirits of ancient Hawaiians travelled after leaving this world. The Northwestern Hawaiian Islands were known as Po, the region of primordial darkness where the spirits return after death. This has been a sacred place for generations, and the mana (spiritual power) of this island resonated through and around us.

Throughout our time on Midway, as we absorbed the mana (power) and beauty of Pihemanu, I received many hō’ailona (signs of nature) that spoke to me to pay attention. It was not surprising that in such a sacred place, the messages of the spirit world can transcend the boundaries of the physical world. Ancient Hawaiians knew this to be true, and with each passing day, I became more attuned to the messages being delivered.

Much too quickly, our time in this special place came to an end. The connections I made with myself, my friends, the ‘aina, the creatures, and my ancestors were life-changing. Before departing, I knew that I needed to make a ho’okupu (offering) of thanks to the island in the tradition of my ancestors. My prayer for Pihemanu is one of healing for her and our world.

Monk Seals

Monk Seals
By Doug Schmid

Many of us feel a special connection with our marine mammal cousins and here at Midway we have been privileged to see the endangered Hawaiian Monk Seal (Monachus schauinslandi) daily. Starting on our first day here we have seen monk seals cruising along North Beach, hauled out on beaches, swimming by our kayaks, and under the pier at Eastern Island. One mother and pup have been frequently resting and rolling in the water among the metal debris the Navy left behind at a point called Rusty Bucket.

Wherever we have seen them, their liquid grace and smoothness of movement have stopped us in our tracks. Yesterday, some of us observed a mother and pup hauled out near the cargo pier when another adult attempted to approach. The mother's immediate sharp response, with a loud vocalization and lunge at the newcomer, seemed to us a strong example of a mother protecting her baby, something that touches us all.

This morning Brenda Becker, a NOAA researcher, and Mimi Olry, from the State of Hawaii Department of Natural Resources, shared their knowledge about these unique and charismatic animals with PAA. There are only an estimated 1,100 Hawaiian monk seals left in the world, with most of them living in the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands (Papahanaumokuakea Marine National Monument) and they are in trouble.

Brenda has been studying these animals since 1985, often at remote camps on French Frigate Shoals and other atolls. Between 1958 and 1976 their numbers decreased by 50 to 66%. They were listed under the Endangered Species Act and with that protection here at Papahanaumokuakea their numbers expanded. Unfortunately there has been asignificant decline since about 1998. The population is now declining at 4.5% a year and overall they have lost 70% of their population in the last 50 years. The problem seems to be one of lack of nutrition for the juvenile seals. They are underweight, not as robust and many starve and die before adulthood. Females are giving birth and are able to nurse their offspring, but after they are weaned, many of the young seals are not able to find enough food to survive to be the next generation's adults.

It is now believed that changing ocean currents are causing a decrease in productivity in this area and so there is less food for the monk seals. The adults may be skilled enough, experienced enough, to catch food with reduced prey populations. The juveniles on the other hand, just starting life on their own, without an abundant food supply to support their mistakes and early trials at catching their food, are in trouble. Emmaciated juveniles are increasing dying in the NWHI. French Frigate Shoals is also experiencing Galapagos shark attacks on monk seal pups. Since it may be only a few sharks killing pups, in this limited area, it may be possible to control the situation by carefully removing the individual sharks who have learned to "key in" on the vunerable young pups.

It is the ongoing research by NOAA, which looks to tag every individual seal, that has allowed this picture to emerge. The efforts of people like Brenda, living for months at a time in tents on the atolls of the NWHI, have allowed them to understand the lives of the seals. These are amazing animals, with the ability to hold oxygen in their muscles, to dive deep and see in the dark depths. They can move along the entire archipeligo, crossing the distances between the atolls and islands.

Our guest speakers also shared a video from the "crittercam" that was temporarily afixed to the back of one adult seal. This instrument recorded depth and showed the seal diving and filmed its foraging behavior. It was a real surprize to the researchers to see the seal passing by the shallow reef environment and spending its time deep- over 60 meters. Here it actually "rooted" around in the seabed, through sand and rubble, turning over rocks with its head and catching octopus, groundfish and eels. The large predator fish kept it company, perhaps looking to snatch up a meal from the seal's work.

Mimi handles coordianting monitoring efforts on the main Hawaiian Islands and shared some of the issues they face there. In an encouraging sign, the monk seal population is increasing in the main Hawaiian Islands. Over 20 pups were born last year. Although the good news is that seals are reproducing in ever greater numbers there, they are coming into contact with people, often with deadly results for the animals. Drowning in nets, getting hooked, being entangled in our garbage, lines or fish traps and being disturbed on beaches as they try to rest are problems. A pregnant female was recent shot. When a species is as endangered as the monk seals, every individual becomes even more precious and important to the chance the species has to continue to exist. After 15 million years of living on this earth, swimming these waters before the main islands were created, long before we came, they now are trying to hold on. I think we all were touched by Brenda and Mimi's knowledge, strong commitment and passion.

So the monk seals are coming to the main islands. Brenda called the islands the new "baskets of hope" for the species. We'll have to coexist, to make room for them on our beaches, and make changes to our behavior, like using new hooks. It's been said that in the end people will only save what they care about. Will we care and make room for these ancient animals?

Mimi's DNR group is always on the lookout for seals showing up on the main islands. They encourage anyone spotting a seal to call 220-7802 to share that information.

Kanu nei au, aia ʻiā ʻoe ka ulu

Kanu nei au, aia ʻiā ʻoe ka ulu.
“I plant and the growth is yours.”
[ʻolelo noʻeau]

Plant Module 6/18/10
By Norbert Larsen

One of the things that surprises me about Midway is the vegetation. Here there are vast stretches of ironwood trees, as well as plumeria, bougainvillea, coconut, shower trees, banyan, Norfolk pine, octopus trees, sea grape, banana, ti leaf plants and lots and lots of Verbesina (golden crownbeard) a noxious weed from the sunflower family. Prior to this visit, I had a completely different picture in my mind of what the atoll would look like. I imagined naupaka, pohuehue, native grasses and sedges, and other native ground-hugging vines and shrubs that perhaps I had never seen. I envisioned stretches of sand from one end of the atoll to other. I did not expect to see trees of any kind. I learned that tons and tons of soil were placed on the island since the early 1900s, and that thousands of people have lived here and brought with them their gardens and plants. I suppose if I had properly done my historical research prior to arriving, I would have been better prepared to meet the landscape that one finds today. The human footprint is everywhere here.

On this morning, we met Greg Schubert, Bio-Tech for Invasive Species with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. He was a volunteer up here with the U.S.F.W.S. for four years before he was hired. He is going on his 8th year in his current position as Invasive Species Bio-Tech for the refuge, and his institutional knowledge is vast. He tells us that there are 259 species of plants on Midway, and that 19 of these are native. The rest are non-native, and the U.S.F.W.S. is combating 22 invasive species. One of the worst of the invasive weeds is Verbesina, and you can see it everywhere. The U.S.F.W.S. is working at restoring 300 acres on Midway—130 acres has been successfully restored. The success story is motivational. What seems like a daunting and almost impossible goal (native habitat restoration on Midway) is reachable in the optimistic and capable hands of the many people caring for Midway today.

After touring Midway’s native plant greenhouse, the PAA gang participated in our small way by planting native bunchgrass (Eragrostis sp.) on a sandy hillside once covered with Verbesina. On the same hillside, we could see an area planted by the PAA group last year, and the native bunchgrass is becoming firmly established. Greg tells us that the roadway next to the hillside becomes a vector for seeds because the wind blows down the roadway carrying seeds. Instead of carrying Verbesina seeds, the roadway now becomes a vector for carrying the seeds of the native bunchgrass. What an ingenious and efficient way to populate the nearby fields with native bunchgrass! Greg pointed out fields once covered with Verbesina, and now thriving with the native bunchgrass.

Verbesina was at one time removed with tractors, but this disturbs the soil, distributes seeds and actually encourages the growth of more Verbesina. Today, the U.S.F.W.W. uses a mild herbicide to kill off invasive weeds, or it removes the weeds manually in areas where the herbicide might threaten native plants. Our PAA gang worked near a couple of “duck seeps”—places where the ground has been dug out to reach the water table in order to make habitat for Laysan ducks. We manually removed Verbesina along with several other invasive weeds growing around the “duck seeps” where we could see Laysan ducks and ducklings waddling and paddling around. It was amazing to witness how quickly an area can be cleared when everyone works together!

The camaraderie in our new PAA family is growing, it is heartening, it is making me strong. Activities like this help to bring people together, and I am feeling the “shot in the arm” to make opportunities like this available to students at Waiʻalae Public Charter School where I work. It is clear that our islands are in need of more helping hands, of strong healthy communities, and it is clear that working to heal the environment can be a win-win for the ʻāina and for people.

Mahalo to PAA member Karen Matsumoto with the PAA group that visited Midway Atoll last year for gifting the gloves we used to do our work. The gloves stay here with the U.S.F.W.S. for others to use.

Coral Snorkel Expedition

The Inner Side of the Outer Reef

Robin Craig
Tallahassee, Florida


On Friday, June 18, 2010, I celebrated my 46th birthday on Midway. While there were many wonderful aspects of that day (a hand-made birthday card and a beach plastic lei from the PA’A group, efforts to restore the island, the Thai kitchen crew singing “Happy Birthday” with a huge carrot birthday cake), the highlight of the day for me was our PA’A snorkel at the outer reef of the atoll.

Snorkeling the inside reef at Midway Atoll requires a few mental adjustments, at least for this haole from the mainland. For example, we headed northeast from the Inner Harbor on Sand Island, into the prevailing wind. As a result, the waters on the inner side of the reef were calm, while waves were energetically breaking on the outer side. From the water, it took a bit of mental adjustment to realize that the waves coming at us couldn’t reach us, despite their energy.

The water was crystal clear and a beautiful light blue green. As we approached our snorkel spot, both the boat speed and the water color revealed the alternating pattern of white sand and coral formations, some coming very near the surface. We anchored about 100-150 yards from the inner wall of the atoll ring, near one of the largest coral heads I’ve ever seen. (Of course, most of us didn’t discover it until our return to the boat, because it was at the opposite end from our entry point.)

As we left the boat, we encountered an expanse of a beautiful curled and lacey Padina (thank you, Jen, for the identification) all along the bottom. This plant was structured like decoratively rolled pieces of thin parchment, making three-dimensional scrolled patterns over the bottom.

Swimming toward the inner wall of the reef, the coral became denser and more varied, with brilliant patches of purple, orange, electric blue, and lime green. Spotting the fish inhabiting this psychedelic wonderland took a moment, but once my eyes adjusted, the variety of fish was astonishing. The big parrot fish, unicorn fish, and jack were impressive, but my favorites were the much smaller squirrelfish that hung out in the shadows of coral formations in small groups. Unlike most of the other fish, these did not swim away when my dive partner, Marion, and I tried to photograph them. Instead, they often swam closer, as if to investigate what we were up to, staring at us with their wide, round, dark eyes. Their Christmas red bodies stood out brightly against the blue water, white sand, and cream-colored coral.

After most of us were back on the boat, a huge ulua swam between the boat and the coral head. The fish and the coral, both far larger than anything I had seen during previous trips to Hawai’i, attested to the health of this system and its ability to support a wealth of life.

On the way back to Sand Island, we headed out into the main channel to see the sunken water barge, some of which still juts above water. As we looked at the rusting hulk above water and caught glimpses of the even greater structure below, I found myself wondering what creatures had made the structure their own. Coral and sea cucumbers, almost certainly. Several varieties of fish, as well, I had to assume. Do sharks and honu (green sea turtles) cruise through the hulk, like they do Cargo Pier on Sand Island? What else might be there? Part of the magic of Midway, I think, is its ability to transform some of the remnants of human use (and abuse) of the Atoll into useful habitat and new life.