Hope, Heartbreak, and Hope – My latest article for The Scuttlefish

Showing budding Cabo Pulmo conservationists a sea cucumber.

Showing budding Cabo Pulmo conservationists a sea cucumber.

This is just a quick post to give you the link to my most recent Scuttlefish piece titled Hope, Heartbreak and Hope. What I Learned from Directing an NGO in Mexico’s Cabo Pulmo National Marine Park. A Scuttlefish Feature. Please click on over and check it out. The videos and photos are pretty amazing thanks to editor, Chris Dixon’s input.

Fear and Kiting in Los Cabos

DSCN0401Parental Advisory: Dear Mom and Dad, please don’t read this. I know how you feel about me kiting and this isn’t going to help. Love, Dawn

I don’t kitesurf in the summer heat. I consciously decided that kiting is a fall and winter sport for me because it’s hell getting the gear rigged on the hot sand. I’ve come close to heat stroke a couple of times. But on my first foray out this autumn, I came close having a stroke for a very different reason.

It’s always difficult to motivate to go out the first time after my summer break; I know from experience that half my equipment is going to fail because it’s been sitting around for months in the summer heat. The glue that they use to seal the valves in particular is degraded by high temps so when you try to blow the kite up, one or more valves go “pop!” and you’re S.O.L unless you know how to do repairs, which apparently I don’t. I tried to replace a valve last year, followed the instructions carefully, watched YouTube videos on how to do it, but failed terribly. I can’t even tell you where I went wrong.

My neighbor Walker, who’s a kiter, was here this week and convinced me it was time to get the kites out. The wind was blowing a good 25 to 30 miles an hour, the water was crystal clear, and it seemed as good a time as any to get out there. And I was glad to have some company for the first foray in many months.

Walker is an enthusiastic kiter. He’s been doing it since the sport was in its infancy and went through the hell of using kites that didn’t have all the built-in safety features that those of us starting up much later benefit from. He’s got some great tales of harrowing near-death experiences that I’m glad I got to miss out on. His enthusiasm means he was down on the beach at the first sign of whitecaps. I dragged my feet, experiencing the resistance borne of the knowledge that it was probably going to be a bit of a nightmare figuring out which of my well-used kites was flight worthy. Sure enough, after I got down there and helped Walker launch his brand new 7M Sling Shot, I tried three different kites, including one of Walkers that he’d offered up, and none of them were operable. Walker had forgotten to bring the bar (essentially the “steering wheel”) down for his 6M that I was hoping to use and before launching he suggested I jerry-rig it with my own bar. I knew this was a bad idea and did it anyway. The kite is different than any of mine and sure enough, when I launched it, it immediately dove to the beach and crashed, flew back up and dove, over and over again as the lines twisted on themselves. Frustrating!! Not to mention not so good for the kite. Before I could get it under control, it nose dived into a sundried porcupine fish, which penetrated the heavy nylon of the leading edge, but thankfully not the bladder and a foot long hole tore through the canopy. That kite was out of commission until it could be repaired.

Meanwhile, as I struggled to get the next kite (any kite!) rigged, Walker was out there flying back and forth across the water, intermittently crashing the kite into the water’s hard surface and then struggling to relaunch because he was under-powered. It was apparent from the tangled mess of the lines on the bar I was trying to rig that I didn’t deal with that issue before putting them away for the season. My bad. Untangling lines requires the patience of Job and after trying to get two other setups rigged, mine was waning. Walker came in while I was deep in the tangles.

When I explained what the hold up was, he offered me his brand new kite. Although he’d been underpowered, we reasoned it would be perfect for me because I weigh considerably less than he does. After a half-hearted protest that the kite was new! I thanked him profusely and got out there.  Employing what patience remained, I timed it right to get out through the heavy shorebreak without mishap and was up and whizzing out to sea trying to remember the subtleties of the sport.

Fifteen minutes into my session, I’d just tacked, heading back out to sea, when I leaned back and took a look down to marvel at the crystal clarity of the water backed by the white sand bottom and contrasting black and mottled brown rocks. The water was so clear it looked like it was only a few feet deep. I’d begun to turn my attention back to the surface and the kite, when I sailed over the outline of something that resembled a shark.

BigMouthWait…WHAT?!

At first I didn’t believe my eyes, and started looking around at the white caps, hoping one would resemble a shark and I could laugh at my paranoia, but that was denial at work. I considered further what I’d seen: it’s shape was distinct–a wide body, tapering to a long tail with an upright caudal fin that only one type of fish in the sea possesses, light grey on top and white underneath at the tips of its fins and a as I passed overhead, it flicked that tail once to impel itself forward, an unmistakable motion. As the reality that I had indeed seen a shark, a rather large shark, slowly sank in, I felt the vice grip of anxiety rise and take hold of my chest. I began debating what to do. I was still on a course that took me out to sea, to deeper darker waters, but away from where I’d seen the shark. I needed to give him time to continue on his way North. Unfortunately, my mind then had him pulling a U-turn and coming to see what that “thing” was that flew overhead. I wondered Are sharks curious? The darkness of the deeper water was frightening because of all that it could conceal. I decided it was time to tack and head back to shore, but with all that anxious thinking I was distracted and blew my turn. I sank into that deep, dark blue water up to my neck, and anxiety turned to panic.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!” I said as much at myself as to myself. Get up and get going! I silently commanded.

And so I did, saying a little “Thank you God,” as I got up to speed without the kite crashing and exploding on impact (not an uncommon occurrence where I am concerned). I was headed to shore.

This is where the way my brain works frightens me a little; on my way back to shore, it occurred to me that I’d only been out kiting a short time and I began rationalizing that the shark was long gone. He’d obviously just been cruising, there was no evidence of him being in hunter mode. When the time came, I did not go to shore, I turned that kite and me strapped to my board and headed back out to sea. True or not, I’d convinced myself I was safe above water and blocked out the possibility of kite failure, major wipe outs, the wind dying, and several other instances where I’d be back in the water up to my neck only minutes after seeing what I estimated to be an eight-foot shark.

It’s amazing what the human mind is capable of blocking out when it wants to ignore the facts. I’d almost forgotten all about that shark, when on my next tack, I lost control of the kite and it shot right to left, yanking me out of my board straps and flinging me a good ten feet downwind, before crashing into the water with a resounding WHUMP! Suddenly, I remembered Mr. Shark. Pushing the question of where my board was aside, I concentrated all my attention on the kite and after a few nail-biting failed attempts got it relaunched. I looked back hoping to see my board bobbing on the surface nearby. It was nowhere to be seen. Shit! Where is it? I could feel the anxiety putting its stranglehold on me again. Desperation wrapping its suffocating arms about me, I began to body drag upwind in search of my board. I recalled thankfully that it has red footstraps, unlike the two boards I’d previously lost in scenarios similar to this one – white, I’d concluded, is a STUPID color for a kiteboard; they just disappear among the white caps. The recollection of losing those two boards at sea taunted me now. Would I find the board or have to body drag all the way back in? Please God, no. A couple of drags of about 30 feet, first one way and then the other and I could see the board bobbing in the wind chop. I relaxed a tiny bit. Quickly, I regained the board, slipped my feet into the straps, and power-stroked myself up and out of the water. I could breathe again.

A few more tacks and I wiped out again, this time though I didn’t crash the kite and remained close enough to the board that it was visible. I decided I’d tempted fate enough and it was time to go in. I couldn’t relax out there except when within easy reach of the beach. But there was a big swell in the water that day, so every time I got close to the beach, a huge wall of water would loom up behind me threatening to send me into shore ass over tea-kettle like a big piece of flotsam wrapped up in my lines. I imagined myself riding those waves and pulling out gracefully by launching myself like a bird, as I’d seen advanced riders do on Maui. As I approached the shore, I got my opportunity as a wave began to grow behind me. I rode it partway in before pulling the kite up to stop my forward momentum and skidding to a remarkably graceful halt before I crashed on the sand. Using the kite’s pull, I exited the water in a series of small hops. The sand never felt so solid, so secure under my feet.

Walker was no longer on the beach, so I did a controlled crash to land the kite. When I ran over to deflate it, what I saw made my breath catch in my throat. The plug for main intake valve was open, probably popping under the pressure of one of Walker’s more dramatic crashes. The only thing keeping the kite from deflating was the stopper, a little plastic ball that plugs the hole under back pressure. I was reminded of one of the earliest lessons we were taught by the instructor at Action Sports Maui: Always rig your own kite and if you don’t for some reason, double check the rigging before launch. I’d been in such a rush to get out there, I’d forgotten an essential lesson. I was lucky the kite hadn’t deflated when I crashed it way out at sea.

The next day when I related this experience to my buddy Meisy, he laughed and pointed out that when I body drag using the kite to move upwind to retrieve my board, I essentially turn myself into big fishing lure. Thanks Meisy, the image of a shark clamping down on me like a baited line will haunt me every time I lose my board from this day forward.

Screwing the Planet with Plastic

Whether you take her out for dinner and a movie beforehand or not, there is no excuse for your continued screwing of the planet. This is to you, the people who continue to use disposable plastic bags like there is no tomorrow (kind of a self-fulfilling prophesy, isn’t it?). You know who you are…you keep meaning to get a reusable bag or two, but keep putting it off. Or you think, by golly, it’s got to break down eventually, so what’s the big deal? Well, you lazy SOB,  I’m not going to ask you again, just STOP IT!! In case the ALL CAPS didn’t tell you already, I’m pissed off, so angry my chest is tight and my fists would be clenched if I wasn’t typing this. I’ll tell you why.  I recently visited the Maui Central Landfill to drop off some building materials left behind by the previous owner of our new property here. It was a windy day, as it often is in central Maui and as we approached the landfill entrance we were greeted by a spectacle that sickened me and made me question where I was. Hundreds, no THOUSANDS of plastic bags and pieces of light-weight plastic were flying through the air, out of the landfill and into the fields and trees nearby. I expect this kind of thing in Mexico, but on MAUI? It was like a snowstorm, but much more sinister. A shitstorm really. Several bags drifted high in the air like kites, tumbling around and up and over and, I imagine, ultimately make their way into the ocean. If not with the wind, then the next heavy rainfall will certainly help them make it to the sea. It made me my stomach tighten and my throat constrict.

So you out there, ya you, the one still using plastic bags instead of reusable bags, just STOP. There is no good reason for your continued blatant fucking of the environment. (yeah, I’m that mad)By order of all that is right and good in the world, by order of the marine environment, the turtles, whales, dolphins, fish, seals, countless sea birds, and all other life in the ocean, we hereby do order all the world’s human beings to stop using disposable plastic bags. Stop making excuses and think about the consequences of your actions. If you don’t have several reusable bags already, then BUY SOME! Quit making excuses and think about what this single, stupid act is doing to the planet. Think about all the ocean animals choking to death on your plastic bags!!

Some statistics in case you’re still not convinced plastic bags are evil:

500 billion: Number of plastic bags consumed worldwide every year (1 million per minute)

92 billion: Number of plastic bags distributed yearly in the US

500: Years it takes a plastic bag to decay in a landfill (much longer in the ocean)

4.175 million: “Average” person’s plastic-bag legacy, in years

Still not convinced? Here are some more facts:

Unlike organic debris, which biodegrades, plastic that enters the ocean disintegrates into ever smaller pieces without changing its chemical structure. This process continues down to the molecular level. As the plastic flotsam degrades into smaller and smaller pieces, it concentrates in the upper water column. The plastic ultimately becomes small enough to be ingested by aquatic organisms living near the ocean’s surface (fish fry, algae, zooplankton, barnacles floating on larger pieces of plastic). This is how plastic waste and the chemicals associated with it gets into the food chain (yours, mine and the ocean’s).

Some plastics decompose within a year of entering the water, leaching potentially toxic chemicals such as bisphenol A, PCBs and derivatives of polystyrene into the water. These chemicals then bioaccumulate and biomagnify up the food chain.

The Great Pacific Garbage Patch is an area of exceptionally high concentrations of floating plastics, chemical sludge, and other debris that have been trapped by ocean currents. Plastics outweigh plankton biomass in this area 45:1 (note: only 10 years ago this ratio was 6:1). This floating mass of industrial and domestic waste is estimated to be somewhere between the size of Texas and the continent of North America.  Yes, it’s MASSIVE. Located in the open ocean, in an area so isolated researchers have only recently begun to study it, the Patch is having untold impacts on marine organisms. Below is a YouTube video that summarizes how the Patch formed and the research recently conducted by Scripps Institute.  

 

Doesn’t this disgust you? ENRAGE you? How have we allowed this to happen? If that doesn’t get you to act, then let’s try some direct evidence of the impacts of plastics on marine animals.In this photo, an endangered sea turtle is seen trying to eat a plastic bag that it mistook for a jelly fish or seaweed. 

Thousands of marine animals and birds, many in danger of extinction, die each year when they suffocate trying to ingest plastic bags. Thousands more die from intestinal blockages from eating plastic.
In this heartrending photograph taken by Terry McCormac off the California coast, a sea otter mother is frantically trying to get a plastic bag off the head of her suffocating pup. 

 

Look at this closely…Are you sick yet?
This video contains graphic images of the impact of plastics on the ocean environment produced by the Algalita Marine Research Foundation.  

Okay, after all that we need some good news. 
Thankfully, plastic bags are going to be banned on Maui and Kauai starting January 11, 2011. (In my opinion, the delay in instituting the ban is unforgivable.) San Francisco, Denmark, Taiwan, Ireland, Hong Kong, the town of Modbury, England, and India have all either banned the use of plastic bags or imposed taxes on their use that have resulted in significant declines in use (up to 95% in Ireland). Bangladesh slapped an outright ban on all polythene bags in 2002 after they were found to have been the main culprit during the 1988 and 1998 floods that submerged two-thirds of the country. Discarded bags choked the country’s drainage systems. California is trying to pass a bill to ban the use of disposable plastic bags throughout the state. Mexico City is trying to institute a ban on plastic bags. The plastics industry has responded by initiating a audacious PR campaign to convince the public that “plastics are an important part of the Mexican economy.”
 
The National Tree of Mexico – Palo Bolsa Plastica  

There is also hope that even the laziest, most selfish and planet-hating among you will have no choice in the near future. In light of the United Nations Environment Programme’s latest report on marine litter, UNEP’s Executive Director Achim Steiner is advocating for a global ban on single-use plastics. “Single use plastic bags which choke marine life, should be banned or phased out rapidly everywhere. There is simply zero justification for manufacturing them anymore, anywhere.” Amen to that.

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Please check out these impressive video links
More on the impact of plastics on the ocean environment from the Algalita Marine Research Foundation.

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