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.

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.

Cargo Pier Photo Shoot