Lessons From Critical Mass?

Since today is the last Friday of the month, it's not just payday but it's also Critical Mass in San Francisco. On my way home I got to stroll through Justin Herman Plaza and past one of the biggest assemblages of Massers (or if you're not a fan, Massholes) in quite a while. Things have been heating up in SF since the last couple of Critical Mass rides when tensions flared with police and motorists. Preparing for a story, no less than four news helicopters were hovering over the gathering riders and news teams were already conducting interviews on the ground.

Essentially a mass display of civil disobedience on wheels, the term "critical mass" was adopted from an observation of traffic flow in China. Both motorists and bicyclists had an understood method of negotiating intersections without signals. Traffic would "bunch up" at these intersections until the backlog reached a "critical mass" at which point that mass would move through the intersection. Critical Mass events have no leader, and have no officially-stated message, though it is largely understood to promote alternative (non-motorized) modes of transport and to raise awareness of safety issues facing commuters using non-motorized forms of transport alongside motor vehicles.

The term "critical mass" is also used by social theorists who posit that a social revolution is achievable after a certain critical mass of popular support is demonstrated. I couldn't help but think that the ocean conservation community needs a similar mechanism as Critical Mass to surge through our own "intersections" and backlogs. It's too easy to think individuals or small communities of conservation-minded citizens are powerless or invisible. But Critical Mass is a powerful reminder that we are as silent or invisible as we choose to be.

Is Critical Mass an inconvenience and a royal pain to motorists? Of course! But that's the point. It's designed to offer observers and participants an opportunity to reflect and, perhaps, bring about something positive. And maybe it can even inspire groups of people with very different causes to reach their own critical mass. And with all apologies to Margaret Mead, while I don't doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world, perhaps a not-so-small group of loud committed people can help wake that world up to the fact that change is needed.

Averting a Complete Catastrophe

It just doesn't get much better than this! Spinal Tap, my favorite mock-rock band is reforming at Al Gore's Save Our Selves (SOS) Live Earth concert to engage people on a mass scale to combat the global climate crisis. What marine biologist doesn't remember their classic album Shark Sandwich? Perhaps Spinal Tap can help put some much needed perspective on the issue. Maybe too much fucking perspective. (You need to see the movie 82 times to understand.) I want tickets!

Fishing For Solutions

The current issue of National Geographic has a special focus on the disturbing state of marine fisheries. Yes, yes... I know, there's a lot of grim news and prognoses coming from this environment I love so much. There certainly is no dearth of ocean threats, and part of the problem is that unlike terrestrial ecosystem destruction, ocean ecosystems are hidden. It all seems benign and problem-free from the surface. And it's hard to drive policy towards change when the public can't sense the dire need to turn up the heat on policy makers.

But what if you could visualize the situation by analogy? I can't recall who originally proposed this thought experiment, but imagine stringing a vast net on metallic wheels between two Land Rovers and sweeping across the African grassy plains in search of gazelle. The vehicles pursue herds of gazelle, sweeping hundreds into the rolling net. But in addition to gazelle, the nets indiscriminately catch and kill everything else in its path. Lions, giraffes, cheetahs, and African wild dogs fall victim to the nets. Rhinos, elephants, baboons, zebra, wildebeest, ground birds, geckos, lizards, snakes, and insects... anything in the path of the nets gets swept up.

In addition to collecting the gazelle and other life unlucky enough to get in the way, the net's metallic wheels crush and scrape away small trees, shrubs, and grass cover from the lush African plain leaving behind a torn and scarred landscape. After gathering the net, workers separate gazelle from the rest of the catch and haul them away to markets. The massive volume of non-target catch–elephants, zebra, lions, lizards and more–are discarded on massive mounds to rot under the African sun.

Hyperbole? Think again. I just described a terrestrial equivalent for bottom trawl fishing. Bottom trawls have steel doors designed to drag along the seafloor, keeping the mouth of the net open. The doors are connected to the fishing vessel by long bridles. The spread between trawl doors can range from 330–650 feet. A foot-rope forms the base of the net opening and it is often fixed with rolling disks of metal or rubber that enable the gear to roll or bounce over the seafloor. An average groundfish bottom trawl vessel can catch approximately 15 tons of fish in a single haul.

But trawling gear doesn't just capture the target fish species. Millions of baby fish and fish with no commercial value are also being accidentally caught ... and then discarded, usually dead, back into the ocean - along with dolphins, marine turtles, seabirds, sharks, corals, starfish, and many other marine species. This incidental capture of so-called "non-target species" is called bycatch. Bycatch is a major fisheries management problem and causing dramatic declines in populations of many marine animals.

The rolling wheels at the base of the net damage or destroy bottom habitat features such as deep-sea coral gardens, sponges, rocky ledges and pinnacles. These features comprise the living seafloor and provide critical refuge for juvenile fish and crab. Fish, especially juveniles, find shelter from deep-sea currents and predators in complex habitats. Bottom trawls are known to damage and destroy these habitats, removing refuges and food, and threatening fish populations and other marine life.

Contrast this devastating commercial fishing practice with that of the traditional fishers living in Newfoundland. That is, until the traditional fishers and their communities disappear. The National Geographic issue includes a stark report on the human casualties of unsustainable fishing. Fishing families in Newfoundland villages who have used hand lines to gather their bountiful catch for generations now struggle to survive the collapse of the cod populations that once sustained their communities. It's a story playing out in traditional US fishing families and communities throughout New England, the Mid-Atlantic, Gulf of Mexico, Pacific Northwest, and California coasts as well.

In the early '90's, I was fortunate enough to visit Newfoundland and travel north along the Gulf of St. Lawrence coast on a trek up to Gros Morne National Park and beyond. I recall seeing more moose than people on the entire journey. But I also recall, even then, the shuttered and deserted homes in the small, picturesque fishing village of Rocky Harbor and further north in Fleur de Lys. The death of offshore fish stocks as a result of exploitive and destructive fishing also means the death of a way of life that has an entirely different and as yet unclear impact on human history and cultural conservation. You would think that since this impact is visible, it might have been a call to action. You would think, huh?

Yet despite the bleak outlook, I have hope. Hope in the collective brain power and ingenuity of Daniel Pauly, Rod Fujita, and others looking for solutions. Hope in the outreach and awareness efforts by Mark Powell over at blogfish and the folks at Shifting Baselines. And honestly, given the alternative, hope seems the only viable option.

Earth Day Kona Style

Reason 362 of why I love Liz Foote, CORAL Hawaii Field Manager. Not only is she all about coral reef education, outreach, and conservation on her home island of Maui, but she's happy to share the love with the Big Island too. Above is a snap of Liz at the Coral Reef Awareness and Earth Day Fair at Kahalu‘u Beach Park along the beautiful Kailua-Kona coast of Hawaii. Liz has the sweetest conservation gig as she gets to wear shorts, sunglasses, and flip flops to work--I made her wear the garish green T-shirt... sorry, Liz. The Outrigger Keauhou Beach Resort also teamed up to make it a day of music, food, and Hawaiian arts and crafts.


Liz joined a whole bunch of environmental organizations and agencies that showcased Hawaii Island's fragile ecosystems and helped educate Earth Fair visitors about some of the rarest plants and animals on earth. Tourists and locals learned about native plants and birds, corals, whales, turtles, and monk seals and even got to meet "Humu," the talking and walking fish. In case you're wondering, Humu is not the one in the green T-shirt.

Kahalu‘u Beach Park is a very heavily used recreational area. Despite signage warning visitors to not touch the coral, on any day you can see behavior just like in this picture captured by underwater photographer Ziggy Livnat in the waters off Kahalu‘u Beach. Education and enforcement is vitally needed and the Coral Reef Awareness and Earth Day Fair was an opportunity to provide keiki and adults with an opportunity to make learning fun.

I'd be lying if I said that these sorts of environmental fairs are all work. They are also a chance for friends in the environmental and conservation world to see each other and have a great time. Liz and I both had a blast at last year's Earth Day Fair at Kahalu‘u Beach and I was so jealous that she got to attend again (particularly considering my previous post.) But looks like Liz had a great time with CORAL friends Donna Brown of the University of Hawaii-Maui Community College Marine Option Program (pictured with Liz and the walking Humu), Teri and Jeff Leicher of Jack's Diving Locker, and Jill Komoto, Executive Director of the Malama Kai Foundation (hint, Jill is not wearing the green shirt with the "Liz" nametag.) Hope I get to celebrate Earth Day with you all next year... and some Hawaiian shaved ice would be nice too.

Too Little Coffee, Too Much Lipps, and Not Enough Nancy

What do work-focused and occasionally weary coral conservationists do on a Saturday? Why, attend coral workshops of course! The California Academy of Sciences, which is temporarily housed in downtown San Francisco until their new digs are completed in Golden Gate Park, hosted a BioForum today titled Coral Reefs: How They Survive--Will They Survive? Despite the ominously somber title, the line up of speakers seemed interesting. Since it was marketed towards local Bay Area teachers and Academy members, we were invited to attend and also set-up a resource table to provide info on our conservation projects–that's our tireless Program Associate Anja Mondragon, above, working the crowd. Oh, and did I mention the free lunch?

Anyway, I dragged myself out of bed at 7am on a rainy morning to make it in time (barely) for registration. Since Cal Academy has limited space in its temporary home, the event was hosted at Zeum. The official Zeum PR claims they are a multimedia arts and technology museum dedicated to fostering creativity and innovation in young people and their families. Us locals know it as the downtown place with the merry-go-round and the bowling alley. Already crabby since I had yet to jump-start my day with coffee, I noticed this strange art installation in the courtyard. Its a big bronze globe with a big bronze man standing on top of it and reaching out with big bronze arms and looking all Terminator-like with big, empty bronze eyes. The whole juxtaposition of a seminar with a gloomy subtitle of "Will Reefs Survive?" while staring at art depicting a mechanical human standing triumphantly atop the planet on Earth Day weekend–while being seriously un-caffeinated–convinced me that this would be a strange day.

The proceedings kicked-off with a welcome and overview by moderator, Monica Medina, a coral scientist at UC Merced who immediately launched into a 45 minute primer on gene sequencing zooxanthellae, the photo-endosymbionts that live inside the tissue of their coral hosts. The juicy stuff mostly concerned the relatively recent findings that zooxanthellae, contrary to previous notions, are not a single species of algae but now appear to be many genetically distinct species. If it had ended there, it would have been a great set-up for the rest of the day and panel of speakers. But no, there were many cladograms to explain, slides of protein sequences, talk of restriction enzymes used after performing polymerase chain reactions. This for an audience mostly of K-12 teachers, students, and Cal Academy members. As god is my witness, I could feel the caffeine-deprived centers of my brain screaming. I started dwelling on the half-empty cup of coffee I saw someone discard outside the auditorium, but before I could fully calculate the personal and professional tradeoffs of getting caught reaching into the garbage can, it was time for the moderator to turn things over to the first speaker.

Jere Lipps, Professor of Integrative Biology and Curator of Paleontology at UC Berkeley looked good on paper. I've attended a few presentations he's previously delivered at the University of California Museum of Paleontology and AAAS conferences and he's an articulate and talented orator. Lipps' area of specialty, foraminiferans (pictured here), single-celled marine organisms with a fossil record stretching back to the Cambrian, gives him a unique perspective on changes to oceanic ecosystems. His slated presentation, Three Billion Years of Reefs, portended a peek at reef systems as seen through the eyes of a world-class paleontologist with a feel for deep time.

We certainly got the hyper-verbal Lipps at his best, shifting from self effacing to self assured as easily as he shifts in and out of technical jargon. It can be entertaining when you're down for that whole cantankerous yet brilliant scientist shtick. He described some of the weird and wonderful ways reef systems (coral and otherwise) have evolved, thrived, and gone extinct. But it becomes apparent that he's crafting a story of peaks and valleys of coral diversity through geologic time leading-up to his rather alarming dénouement: Coral reefs have faced adversity in the past and have come back from the brink. So while we should try to limit the damage we contribute, reefs will rebound in a few hundred or thousand years.

I had to blink a few times and scratch my uncaffeinated skull. Did I just hear a UC Berkeley scientist tell a room full of teachers, students, and Cal Academy docents to remain sanguine in the face of global and local assaults currently diminishing coral reefs? So what are the next generations supposed to think of us when all we have to show of once vibrant, diverse reefs are photos and the sage assurance of a retired Professor that "They'll be back"? He even takes a swipe at polar bears, reminding us to relax since they survived the last interglacial without drowning due to ice loss. Sure, climate change, storms, ecological competition, and shifting geologic real estate have impacted reef diversity and even polar bears through time. But is this paleontologist with a "feel" for deep time really forgetting that humans, having only appeared on the scene (geologically speaking) a mere blink-of-an eye ago, are now contributing stressors and direct attacks on coral reef and marine biodiversity that reefs have never faced in 3 billion years of reef history? And did the last interglacial also toss PCBs and other organic chemical pollutants at polar bears as well?

My colleagues and I exchange incredulous glances, and during Q&A my hand shoots up: Prof. Lipps, you certainly lay out a compelling argument for coral's ability to recover from adversity through geologic time. But surely you would agree that humans, a recent addition in the history of life, are likely catching coral reefs by surprise through coastal development, commercial fishing, offshore mining and oil drilling, blast fishing, coral harvesting in developing nations for building material, increased CO2 loading, and a variety of other assaults, all in addition to the non-human induced stressors they have to deal with. Wouldn't you say that deserves added caution and attention on our part?

I get "the glare" for a portion of my "question" mixed with an occasional grin and nod. When I finish, Lipps quickly dispatches me with: Of course, of course. Human pressures from population growth are a real problem. And as far as blast fishing is concerned, coral reefs recover from hurricanes, so they can recover from blast fishing too. Now while I don't know a thing about foraminiferans, I have some experience in the impacts of blast fishing.

Dynamite fishing, or blast fishing, is a profound and widespread threat to coral reefs. Though generally illegal, it is practiced in more than thirty countries. Unlike hurricanes, blast fishing kills fish indiscriminately and pulverizes living coral to particle or grain-sized fragments. Repeated blasting creates vast deserts of loose coral rubble that shifts easily in current flow creating unsuitable settling surface for coral larvae. Lacking suitable habitat, reef fish quickly abandon a demolished reef and local fisheries collapse.

Large blasted areas are slow to recover because coral planula larvae have difficulty establishing on loose or sandy substrate. Young corals that successfully settle easily topple-over on the unstable substrate or quickly become smothered by sand or algae. Recent studies by Helen Fox and Roy Caldwell (who just so happen to hail from Lipps own UC Berkeley Dept. of Integrative Bio.) have referred to frequently blasted areas as “killing fields” for new coral recruits and indicate that if recovery is even possible it can take more than a century for a reef to rebound by natural means once the live coral cover has been destroyed. So again, Lipps' confidence in reef recovery is misinformed and measured in centuries, not that he will be around to answer for his disturbingly laissez-faire attitude should his predictions prove wrong.

Man, that was cathartic writing!

After a group stretch and still no coffee (but a boost of theobromine from a bar of Scharffen Berger chocolate) my day was salvaged by the BioForum's final speaker, Professor Nancy Knowlton, Director of the Center for Marine Biodiversity and Conservation (CMBC) and a Professor of marine biology at the Scripps Institution of Oceanography. Nancy is a living legend in coral reef biology and conservation, an accomplished scientist who is gifted in effectively communicating science to the public, and looks absolutely fabulous in the recent Green Issue of Vanity Fair! Nancy earns the "Know" in Knowlton, and I'd obligingly endure a lecture by Jere Lipps just to hear her thoughts... in fact, I just had!

Knowlton concisely explained why coral reefs matter to everyone, how much coral has already been lost globally, and the connections between global and local threats. Of particular interest was her discussion of recent efforts to quantify reef resilience by monitoring the health of reef food webs and the volume of successful coral larval recruits. It was the sort of edge-of-your-seat science presentation that made the early wake-up, caffeine deprivation and Lipps overload headache worth the Saturday effort.

Recognizing that while talk of reef recovery in terms of centuries or millennia may be useful to geologists, it resonates very little to a public accustomed to more human time scales, Knowlton stressed that we need to frame the coral crisis issue in more compelling terms,

I'm frequently asked by developers or contractors hoping to build near coral reefs how much sediment, pollution, or effluent offshore reefs can tolerate. This is the wrong approach. Would we build bridges based on questions such as 'To save costs, how weak can we make the metal before it fails or how thin the cables before they snap?' Shouldn't we use the same precautionary approach to our planet, the only home we have?

I started this post on Saturday night, and it's now 1am on Sunday, Earth Day. A fitting morning, I think, to share these thoughts.

An Infallible Truth

Another Daily Show classic. The video feed expires May 20, 2007 (or until the Rapture... whichever comes first) so enjoy while you can.

Green Is The The New Black

While scanning the magazine racks at the Bookshop Santa Cruz last weekend, I couldn't help but notice all the green. No less than six different magazines were running a "Green Issue" to capitalize on Earth Day. Outside Magazine had our Governator: the 10-16 miles to the gallon-loving, $59.62 cost of a fill-up oblivious, Hummer-driving California governor as poster boy for their green issue. To be fair, Schwarzenegger recently retrofitted his fleet of Hummers to run on biofuel. A gas-to-biofuel conversion–allowing the engine to run on ethanol, hydrogen, biodiesel or natural gas–gets the equivalent of up to 40 miles per gallon.

The conversion, which takes about seven days, costs roughly $24,000 (that's on top of the $50,000 price tag for the 2007 Hummer H2 or $130,000 for the 2006 Hummer H1) just to convert to biodiesel–and significantly more to burn the full gamut of alternative fuels. If diesel fuel sells for $3 a gallon, you'd have to drive around 140,000 miles before breaking even. At these prices, I don't see green California consumers running to the Hummer dealerships.

But what's wrong with the popular, and far more affordable Toyota Prius hybrid? Well, apparently Schwarzenegger is either something of a size queen or has compensation issues,

I wanted to show people that biofuel is not like some wimpy feminine car, like a hybrid. Because the muscle guys, they have this thing, 'I don't want to be seen in the little, feminine car'. You don't have to get rid of sport utility vehicles, you don't have to get rid of Hummers. We need to take the technology and make clean engines. That is the message.

Yup, that's the message... Don't reduce your driving or change your behavior, just cough-up the green needed to be green. Not quite the sustainable and immediate proposition that the current climate crisis demands, but apparently enough rhetoric to get you on the cover of a magazine.

In a much more impressive showing, Vanity Fair magazine ran its 2nd annual Green Issue with the absolutely lovable polar bear cub Knut staring adoringly (or perhaps hoping he's a seal, hungrily) at coverboy, environmentalist, and perennial hottie Leonardo DiCaprio. Notwithstanding its unapologetic devotion to consumerism and conspicuous consumption, this is no fluff green issue. VF takes on both wack-job Rush Limbaugh and Myron Ebell, climate change denier and Bush administration policy analyst, sound-bite artist, and oil-industry mouthpiece. Vanity Fair gets special points for their inclusion of the Minds Aquatic: a feature on ocean scientists and conservationists working to keep the ocean green... I mean blue, as well. East Coast/West Coast rivalries are set aside as Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution eco-stars share pages with Scripps Institution of Oceanography aqua-heroes. I suspect Vanity Fair readers are usually accustomed to putting their considerable money, well, wherever they want to. At least this issue gives them a chance to put their money where it can do some environmental good.

Seeing Monsters

Like most of the world, my heart aches over the profound horror and tragedy this week at Virginia Tech. While I've refrained from watching a lot of the TV media commentary, it's hard to avoid it. The few news reports that I have seen that have focused on the victims, young and old, have reduced me to tears and physical ache... their stolen lives and potential, and the scarring impact this will have on the V-Tech campus community and beyond.

I've also refrained from blogging on the subject since I don't see relevance to this blogs' ostensible subject: ocean conservation. But while it may be true that I am a conservationist, first and foremost I'm human. And to not hurt from the many tangled aspects of this terrible situation strikes me as profoundly inhuman.

While reading through blogs this morning, I was particularly struck by the thoughts of Dorid over at The Radula. What resonates for me is not only her anguish over the victims, families, and campus, but also her recognition that it's all too tempting and convenient to demonize the gunman and disconnect him from societal responsibility,

I can understand why people want to characterize Cho as a monster... [but] there is, somewhere, a mother mourning for this boy.

This boy, whom society, science, and medicine failed because adequate treatment for his illness was not provided.

Now he's become a symbol of so many things, being used by Christians who want to say that it's the lack of God in the schools that leads to this behavior... people on both sides of the gun control issue... people who hate foreigners and are promoting White American agendas...

But they're missing the point (and many are just plain wrong). Sure, we all want to be angry at Cho and see him as a monster, because when we see him as human, when we understand that he is ill, we have to start addressing the hard questions. We have to challenge our own preconceived notions of the mentally ill. Behind the neuro-biological problems there was a young man struggling to do what every one of us wants to do: better our lot in life, find love, build friendships, and live a normal life.

I'm in no way seeking to explain away or defend an atrocity. But neither should we assume these events are beyond our comprehension. Tossing around the label "monster" makes it too easy to sweep the causations or our responsibility under the carpet.

I Don't Know Where I'm Going, But I know Where You've Been

I love to write. I love to journal and record ideas, thoughts, connections, and opinions and at least for me, the whole blogosphere is just a big electronic and nicely portable journal. I say this only to emphasize that even if not a single person visited this blog, I'd still blog. Having said that, it's cool that people visit (even if by accidental click through). Inspired by Buzztracker, an interesting website and software that visualizes frequencies and relationships between locations appearing in English-speaking global news coverage, I thought it might be fun to take the numbers and locations tallied on my hit counter and "Buzztrack" visitors to this blog from where I write in San Francisco. Well, it officially stopped being "fun" after about 8 minutes.

I may blog, but I am completely illiterate in manipulating graphics software. I originally wanted to make the geographic locations of hits proportional in size to the number of hits, but that turned out to be a big pain in the ass. So I just mapped sites with greater than one visit, and made the top visitation sites–USA, China, Canada, and Australia–approximately proportional to number of hits. What an enormous time sink when I should be relaxing at home with my man. Manuel is already pissed that I come home after anywhere from 8-12 hours at work only to have dinner and then open my laptop and blog. What can I say, I have a passion for writing about what I do. But, there's a fine line between passion and obsession and I may have already performed a half gainer across that line a while ago.

Anyway, hope you enjoy my effort to map you out. Apologies to all you "single hit" nations. And I know that "hits" do not necessarily translate as "readers." My hit counter doesn't even show total visits, just unique hits. For all I know the bulk of hits to my site may be from pre-med students looking for malaria treatments. Then again, the 27 hits from Australia might represent one bloke with a computer fetish (I hope that's not you, Cam). I've included the 48 coterminous United States, but also included connections to Alaska and Hawaii. I have no confidence that I capture Alaskan hits, but know of at least one Hawaiian reader (Mahalo, Liz!). And part of my Canadian hits are a direct result of my Canadian Program Manager Sherry Flumerfelt's Toronto home-court advantage. Great blog, eh?

So while I know from where you "hit" me, I'm curious as to who you are or why you "hit" me. If you actually read this stuff or even subscribe to this blog, I'd love to know why? Other than the stunning prose and clarity of thought, what brings you back? Is it the pictures? I'm not hit trolling here, I'm genuinely curious. Okay... it's your turn to talk.

Mega-Vertebrate Week

If you haven't already checked-in on Deep-Sea News this week, click on over to catch their week-long love letter to all things big, oceanic, and backboney (cartilaginous and otherwise). They've been featuring a lot of images of Elephant Seals, and why not... they certainly are big and, like many of us males of our species, go from adorable and cuddly pups to somewhat adorable, fat, grouchy, and prodigiously-nosed adults all too quickly.

I understand the need for science to occasionally inflict what, at least anthropomorphically, seems like indignities on our study subjects–flipper tags, spray-paint or bleached ID numbers on hides, or in this case satellite or radio trackers mounted on heads. But it got me to thinking of some interesting applications for keeping tabs on certain study subjects whose behavior and aggressive habits deserve considerably greater scrutiny.

Making A Difference... One Reef At A Time

Once upon a time there was a wise man who liked to go to the ocean to write in his journal. He had a habit of walking along the beach before he began his work. One day while walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself to think of someone who would dance to the waves. So he began to walk faster to catch up. As he got closer, he saw that it was a young man and the young man wasn't dancing, but instead he was reaching down to the shore, picking up something and very gently tossing it into the ocean. As he got closer he called out,"Good morning! What are you doing?" The young man paused, looked up and replied, "Tossing seastars back into the ocean." "I guess I should have asked, why are you tossing seastars back into the ocean?" "The sun is up and the tide is going out. And if I don't toss them back in they'll die." "But, young man, don't you realize that there are miles and miles of beach and seastars all along it. You can't possibly make a difference!" The young man listened politely. Then bent down, picked another seastar and gently tossed it back into the sea, past the breaking waves and said, "It made a difference for that one."

I've been looking for a reason to gather my thoughts for a post on Palau, one of my favorite places on the planet and a big reason why I'm doing what I do. And today I had two encouragements to follow through. First, The Saipan Blogger, who has a bunch of blogs, my favorite of which is the aptly named The Saipan Blog, added a comment on my CNMI post last night asking if I had heard of The Micronesian Challenge. The second encouragement was The New York Times story today on how Palau's no-fishing zones are benefiting their reefs. In the story, they also refer to The Micronesian Challenge.

I have so much I can say about Palau–great places, people, culture, language, stories and memories... but I'll save that for another time. For beginners, Palau (locally referred to as Belau and officially recognized as the Republic of Palau) is an island nation in the Pacific Ocean, some 500 miles (800 km) east of the Philippines. Comprised of 607 islands with an estimated 14,000 square kilometers of coral reefs, it's the largest area of shallow marine ecosystem in the Micronesian region. Palau is also one of the world's youngest and smallest nations–having emerged from United Nations trusteeship (administered by the United States) in 1994.

In a situation very similar to the Kubulau District in Fiji, as a result of decreased local fish catches in the 1990's (primarily from fishing pressure and loss of reef from unsustainable fishing by non-Palauan interests) Palau villages began setting aside traditionally fished near-shore waters as no-take (taboo) areas. Interestingly, villages began seeing increased fish catch again in adjacent waters and improved coral health.

So what about that challenge? On November 5, 2005, Palau President Tommy E. Remengesau Jr. (a superb man I've had the honor of meeting twice and who you are just as likely to see in a government meeting as you are in the downtown coffee shop/internet cafe), recognized the urgent needs of his country, its people and its lands and waters, and issued a challenge to neighboring Micronesian nations: set aside for conservation 30% of near-shore coastal waters and 20% of their forest resources by 2020. Palau already has that amount in reserve, though not all of it is enforced. But the rest of the Micronesian region has far less.

The Challenge countries – Palau, Federated States of Micronesia and Marshall Islands, and the U.S. territories of Guam and Northern Mariana Islands – represent nearly 5 percent of the marine area of the Pacific Ocean and 7 percent of its coastlines. Yet the president's challenge could have an even larger impact on conservation around the globe. Not only does the Micronesia Challenge have the potential to accelerate efforts to meet conservation targets for the challenge countries, but it has rippled far beyond Micronesia.

As The NY Times points out,

Five months after Mr. Remengesau issued it, President Susilo Bangbang Yudhoyono of Indonesia pledged to increase marine protected areas to 24.7 million acres from 18 million acres by 2010. In the Antilles, the states of Grenada, the Bahamas, Belize and the Grenadines, which have already protected some reef areas, have committed themselves to a Caribbean Challenge and are trying to persuade the other nations to make similar pledges, according to Bill Raynor, the Nature Conservancy’s director for Micronesia.

And that ripple effect has been felt right here in the United States too, right? Not so much. Marine protected areas amount to less than 1% of near-shore US waters. And in Hawaii, home to America's largest coral holdings, a “right to fish” bill being considered at the state Senate right now would give unparalleled power to commercial fisheries, undermine marine science by making it almost impossible to create any new protected areas, and leave us with an ocean in greater crisis. Chock-up yet another global apology for arrogant, self-serving US policy-making.

But what about that 30% of protected coastal waters by 2020? Will the collective 30 percents of participating nations have a positive effect in building reef resilience, the ability of coral reefs to resist and recover from environmental stressors? While we must, of course, continue to gather evidence, the scientific, resource management, and conservation communities seem to say YES. But that's if conservation activities can be coordinated to also target the reduction of local reef threats. The combination of MPAs, local threat reduction, and community support for MPA effectiveness can add up to resilient coral reefs, better able to cope with the more global onslaughts of coral disease or increased sea surface temperatures associated with climate change. While there are fringe elements of the conservation community who have poo-poo'd resilience, demanding more evidence, their protests amount to a lot of poo-poo. Climate change deniers use the same stalling, agenda-laden tactic, too.

Thankfully, Palau and other tiny Micronesian nations have decided to be less jaded, lead by example, and hopefully make a difference... even if it's just one reef at a time.

CNMI: FYI

Hafa Adai (pronounced HALF A DAY) is "Hello" in Chamorro, the native language of Guam and the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands (CNMI). And no, the language is not Chamorron, as was tactfully yet firmly pointed out to me by colleague John Calvo, Guam Representative to the West Pac Fisheries Management Council, when he remarked:

Rick, there is no "moron" in Chamorro!

Hafa Adai is basically used the same way as the word Aloha in the Hawaiian Islands. CNMI is a member of the US Coral Reef Task Force, an action group established in 1998 by Presidential Executive Order #13089 to lead U.S. efforts to preserve and protect US and territory coral reef ecosystems. While US coral reef states, Hawaii and Florida, face significant threats to their coral ecosystem health, they both possess significant infrastructure and funding to launch coral reef and MPA research, coral conservation awareness campaigns, and even initiate enforcement programs. US territories have all the same coral threats as US states, yet lack the infrastructure and funds necessary for effective conservation and ecosystem management.

On March 1, 2006, Deputy Assistant Secretary of the Interior for Insular Affairs David B. Cohen testified before the Senate Committee on Energy and Natural Resources regarding the state of the economies and fiscal affairs of the Territories of American Samoa, the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands, Guam and the United States Virgin Islands. In his summary, he stressed that while there is room for optimism in the long run, all four territories faced serious fiscal difficulties. Each has very limited land and resources, a small population, and a limited pool of expertise to address the community’s critical needs. Each is located in an area that is highly prone to destructive typhoons, cyclones, or hurricanes, and each is relatively new to self-government.

For the CNMI, the per capita GDP is lower than that of any state. In 2005, the U.S. Census Bureau’s preliminary estimate of the CNMI’s GDP was $1 billion. With a total population of 75,066–concentrated on the three principle islands of Tinian, Rota, and Saipan–the per capita GDP was an estimated $13,350, a figure 50.9 percent of the lowest state per capita GDP, and 33.7 percent of the national per capita GDP.

The CNMI is experiencing declining revenues and government cutbacks. For fiscal year 2006, the outgoing Governor proposed a total budget of $213 million. This figure was revised downward to $198.5 million by the current Governor, with the consent of the Legislature. CNMI's economic challenges should be expected to result in continued fiscal tests as well. Continued downturns translate into reduced capacity for effectively managed marine ecosystems which are critical to CNMI resident livelihoods. Healthy reefs and associated ecosystems provide for increased protection from storms and tsunami, healthy fisheries, and a growing revenue from marine tourism such as diving, snorkeling, and ecotourism.

Like all coral states and territories, CNMI has a Local Action Strategy (LAS) to reduce key threats to coral reefs. But LAS activities do not come cheap. Toting the estimated LAS project implementation costs for reducing land-based sources of pollution and recreational damage to reefs while increasing fisheries management and outreach, awareness, and involvement campaigns leaves a tab of $4.96 million. And this still doesn't include the $2.49 million needed for coral resource management staff, training, and technical assistance.

Despite the seemingly daunting situation, the CNMI Coral Reef Task Force forges ahead, as the beautiful poster at the top of this post demonstrates. I had the pleasure of meeting and working with the CNMI team and other Pacific state and territory Coral Reef Task Force members during a NOAA Coral Reef Conservation Project workshop in Waikiki two years ago. A lot of young, motivated, and talented conservationists from small Pacific islands who, while realistic about their challenges, remain eager to learn, brainstorm, and discuss solutions rather than get mired in the limitations.

Surf City Sunday

With the first weekend in I dunno how long with no pressing work deadlines, Manuel and I spent an amazingly clear, cool, and beautiful Sunday in one of our favorite places: Santa Cruz. In a state where you can't swing a cat without hitting a marine biologist, I'm a bit of an anomaly. I'm born, bred, and schooled in marine bio on the East Coast and something of a Johnny-come-lately to these revered Pacific shores of Ricketts, Light and Smith, Hand, and Telonicher. As a California friend and fellow marine colleague once remarked when I informed him I studied marine bio in Rhode Island, "Oh, you mean there's an ocean there too?"

And I can see his point. When you consider the amazing diversity of Pacific shores, not to mention the absolute, jaw-dropping wonder of the Monterey Submarine Canyon between Santa Cruz and Monterey Peninsula (think Grand Canyon scale, only underwater and just off-shore) I can see why Pacific Coast marine biologists are a bit smug. But don't believe me, check out the fellows over at Deep-Sea News if you need some convincing (of the coolness of Pacific marine bio, not the smugness).

With no real agenda, just a destination, we kickstarted our Santa Cruz day at our favorite coffee shop, Coffeetopia for some kick-ass Santa Cruz Dark Roast and Manuel's favorite chai. Then off for a swing through the University of California, Santa Cruz campus. If I had to do the whole college-thing all over again knowing what I know now, I'd choose UCSC. Not only do they churn out some top rate marine biologists, but that campus! Coast redwoods, environmentally unobtrusive architecture, wildlife galore, and banana slugs. Need I say more?

After a few deer and quintessential UCSC student sightings on campus, we zoomed down Bay Street and made a bee-line to West Cliff Drive for some sea otter spotting. No otters but surprise, surprise, we were in luck as The Western Surfing Association Hobie Championship Tour was wrapping-up its season today at Steamers Lane, the West Coast mecca for surfers. We caught the women's longboard finals and it was AMAZING to watch these small women making fancy foot work across big boards while negotiating some powerful waves and swell. There was an impressive crowd gathered and I have to admit I was in awe. I've had some serious surf envy most of my adult life. As I mentioned, growing up in Pennsylvania wasn't all that conducive an outlet for my surfing jones (maybe if I was a Jersey boy it would be a different story, but wish in one hand... you know the rest of that saying.) Anyway, I've promised myself every year for the past five years that this year would be the year I don my wetsuit, buy a board, and go all cowabunga. Needless to say, I'm still the voyeur but I've got time. I'm a young 43. And once the spinal stenosis eases up, watch out Kelly Slater. Not that I wouldn't mind just being a voyeur with Mr. Slater. Can you say eye candy?

But back to our adventure. With Manuel looking bored and hungry, we headed to downtown Santa Cruz for fantastic burritos at Planet Fresh. While not a traditional taqueria by any means, they still serve-up creative wraps and variations on the classics with a terrific salsa bar and outstanding horchata. After lunch, we strolled over to Pacific Avenue and popped into O'Neill's Surf Shop (more slaking of my surf fetish). While some of the "whos," "hows," and "whens" are still disputed, what is indisputable is that from a tiny shop selling strange new gear called "wetsuits" off of San Francisco's Great Highway in the 1950's, Jack O'Neill built an empire and put the West Coast on the world surfing map. O'Neill's Surf Shop still sells wetsuits, but now also peddles surfboards, board wear, and all the trappings for those looking for the Après-surf lifestyle.

Pacific Avenue is a trip. Lots of tourists and locals, surfers and skaters, panhandlers and eccentrics of all stripes. The vampire-plagued fictional small California town of Santa Carla in the 1987 movie The Lost Boys was loosely based on Santa Cruz. Despite city council efforts to gentrify the downtown to coincide with its rebuilding following the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake, local color still abounds and the "Keep Santa Cruz Weird" posters, t-shirts and bumper stickers are everywhere. Probably my favorite Santa Cruz eccentric, and a perennial sighting on any visit, is Robert "Pinky" Valentino. He even has a myspace page with a little bio:

I used to be an engineer in silicon valley. Now I am on a never-ending search... a VisionQuest if you will. I spend my days walking, it's just what I like to do. Maybe someday I'll find something better. But today, I just like walking. Oh, and my name is Robert, call me Robert please.

Robert is the sweetest, strangest, and bravest "out-there" person I've ever run into. He walks up and down Pacific Avenue every day looking absolutely fabulous. Always with a parasol and walking with baby steps, Robert endures rude remarks, stares, and sometimes physical abuse yet still smiles and gives a friendly wink or shrug as you pass on the street. I finally had my camera on this trip and asked him if I could take a picture. A smile, nod, and a pose and he continued up the block. Classic!

Before heading back to San Francisco on Death Alley, also known as CA Highway 17, I talked Manuel into stopping by UCSC's Long Marine Lab and Seymour Marine Science Discovery Center. I have lots of fond memories of Long Marine Lab from my years teaching at UC Berkeley. Every summer, my department would host a residential program at UC Santa Cruz for teachers interested in learning how to include ocean science in their curriculum. One of my favorite activities was tidepooling at Natural Bridges State Park, just below Long Marine Lab. Being mid summer, low tides were painfully early... just before sunrise. But if the fantastic tidepools weren't enough to get us excited, we always had the honor of being joined by Dr. Todd Newberry, Emeritus Professor of Ecology and Evolutionary Biology at UC Santa Cruz and a living legend in intertidal ecology. Todd knows the tidepools and life of Natural Bridges after 5 decades of study and time spent nose-to-nose with anemones and limpets. When he talks of intertidal life he may as well be referring to friends and family. Todd's the only marine biologist I've ever met who can describe the life cycle of an aggregating anemone one minute then insert a particularly relevant quote from Proust the next and somehow make sense of it all.

I was excited to introduce Manuel to "Ms Blue," Long Marine Lab's resident Blue Whale skeleton. This impressive, complete reconstructed skeleton graces the Seymour Center's front yard and has to be seen to fully appreciate the scale of this mega-mammal. I love the reconstructed phalanges from the pectoral flipper, which just have to piss-off any creationist visitor who bothers to notice. Some cool whale bone fossils from Miocene age fossil beds just north of Santa Cruz in Davenport are strewn on the ground below Ms. Blue and probably appear to most visitors as artfully positioned rocks.

We also visited inside the Seymour Center for a peek at the small but nice aquarium exhibits. While photography was a challenge in the dim light, I managed to capture a relatively sweet shot of an Angelina Joli-esque, pouty-lipped Wolf Eel and a blurry yet amazing shot of a Spanish Shawl Nudibranch (Flabellina iodinea) weaving a ribbon of eggs on some surf grass. This time it was my turn to start looking bored and hungry, and happily Manuel picked-up on the clues and we decided to hit the road for home. What a great, relaxing, memorable and fun day with my man and a complete recharge of batteries. Admittedly, not a particularly conservation, coral, or political post and a departure from my standard blog fare. But it's days like this that keep me jazzed and ready for a new week of challenges.

Elephant Seal Apparently Takes Cue From Australian Kin: Pinnipeds Put on Watch List World-Wide

All I can say is watch your back. First Australia, now Northern California! A Northern Elephant Seal appears to be getting a bit nippy. The best part? The seal is nicknamed "Nibbles."

Surfer Girl "Attacked" By Sea Lion: Pinniped Unavailable For Comment

As much as I love to spin a sweet bit of satire now and then, sometimes this shit just writes itself! I can't do any better than the actual story.

Caution: May Be Habit Forming!

Rebecca, my favorite skepchick blogger and resident skeptic and female foil to an otherwise y chromosome-dominated gang over at the Skeptics' Guide to the Universe podcast tipped me off to an amazing and addictive website that can, among other transmogrifications, give you a face only a chimp could love. In Rebecca's own words:

When creationists shake their little fists, jump up and down, and yell, "My grandpa weren’t no monkey!” I like to imagine what they must think we mean when we explain that humans and apes descended from a common ancestor. I’m pretty sure they’re thinking of some kind of monkey/human hybrid walking around in bibbed overalls. A cool web site that transforms photos with the click of a button now lets you see what your ancestor might have looked like, if the world worked the way creationists seem to think scientists say it does.

Have at it and have fun, but you have been warned! Don't blame me when you get caught at work morphing your boss's pics.

Puukani Uhane a Hawaii Nei

I just heard the sad news that Hawaii legend Don Ho has died. While I never had the chance to hear him live and in person in Waikiki, Tiny Bubbles was a personal favorite of my Mom and we would both dance around the living room to his crooning voice. I remember admiring his album covers as a child and knowing, someday, I'd be feeling Hawaiian sand between my toes. Mahalo for your music and spirit of Aloha, Uncle Don. You leave behind an enormous Ohana who will miss you.

Coral Reefs Are Dying... Quick, We Need A Logo and Slogan!

Color me overly idealistic, but as a member of the nonprofit coral reef biodiversity conservation community whose collective financial resources in no sense match the scale of global coral reef crisis, I tend to have a default position that favors efficiency and action over postures and PR. No big surprise then that I find all the time, human resources, and funds devoted to logo design for the 2008 International Year of the Reef awareness campaign to be a tremendous waste.

A little history helps here. Ten years ago, in response to increasing threats and loss of coral reefs and their associated ecosystems, 1997 was declared the International Year of the Reef (IYOR), a global effort to increase awareness and understanding about the importance of coral reefs and reef threats, and support related conservation, research and management efforts. Through a decentralized process that involved millions of people around the world in local, national, and international events, increased press and web coverage, and advocacy efforts targeting political decision makers, IYOR 1997 resulted in increased coral conservation funding, new governmental agencies dedicated to coral research and awareness building, and a slew of new NGOs to add their efforts to the struggle.

IYOR '97 was a stunningly successful example of organizational outreach power coupled with grassroots organizing: the involvement of ordinary folks to influence people in powerful positions. In the case of IYOR '97, grassroots organizing worked to increase the capacity of the coral conservation community by training new volunteer leaders and by involving new volunteer activists. Since the power of grassroots organizing is in ordinary people, it seeks to mobilize large numbers of people. An activist group of five people may be able to reach 5,000 people in a week by putting up posters, sending e-mails, or making phone calls. Couple that with efforts by larger organizations and you can reach hundreds of thousands or even millions of people.

Ten years after IYOR '07, there continues to be an urgent need to increase awareness and understanding of coral reefs. In an effort to step-up awareness-building and governmental focus on action over rhetoric, the International Coral Reef Initiative (ICRI) designated 2008 as the International Year of the Reef (IYOR 2008).

While the ICRI Secretariat is serving as overall catalyst for IYOR 2008, any and all activities in each country will be decided upon and organized at national and local levels. As the IYOR 2008 website announces:

ICRI and its secretariat encourages a large involvement and welcomes active participation from all. Open to any individual, organization, government agency and non-governmental organization that wishes to be involved.

But something about IYOR this time around is striking me as unproductive. An ad hoc committee was created in order to facilitate preparation for the IYOR 2008 (I myself am part of this committee) yet aside from a website, the most significant flurry of activity has been to select a logo. Now IYOR '07 had a logo which if you ask me seems perfectly adequate for IYOR 2008. Just change the date, right? Apparerently not. IYOR 2008 needed a fresh, new, media savvy logo. As it could be awkward for one organization to step-up and design the new logo, a vote was agreed upon to sponsor the IYOR 2008 Logo Contest. The contest was open to individuals and organizations and the results are all part of the collage at the top of this post. They range from low-tech, hand-drawn logo's by promising young coral conservationists to stunning examples of Adobe software artists at work.

Even though this is a volunteer contest (I have been reminded that no resources were devoted to the logo since all the logos received were "donated" by the artists), am I to believe that time, productivity, and, yes, funds were not devoted to the production of many of the beautiful and professional designs? Approving the submission of final designs–some presumably produced by conservation organizations–involves brainstorming sessions, iterative design approval meetings, and ultimately human-hours that might be better served in mobilizing activities and awareness over image and PR. Oh, and then there are the copious teleconferences and emails by the ad hoc committee to discuss the logo process.

I'm not naive, PR and marketing are critical components to awareness building. And yes, a contest can serve to spread awareness. It's just that the clock is ticking (as of this post, there are 261 days remaining before IYOR 2008 kicks-off.) In the last 50 years alone, about half of all coral reefs have been lost or seriously degraded. Let's enter 2008 confident that we mobilized a planet to recognize their connections to and dependence upon a rapidly vanishing ecosystem, the information and tools necessary to change behaviors, and the will to take action in saving it. I'm not so sure a logo is going to do the trick