The (deputy) director's cut

Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink.

Okay, that's not entirely accurate.  True there's nothing but the blue Pacific Ocean stretching in every direction as far as the eye can see.  But we do have plenty to drink, thanks to the Esperanza's onboard evaporator that's currently converting close to three tons of salt water into fresh water a day.  So a more accurate statement might read "Water, water everywhere, but not a decent coffee shop in sight, and could someone please send me an update on what's happening in the pennant races for Major League Baseball"?

Somehow it just doesn't sound as desperate as Samuel Taylor Coleridge's famous quote at the top.  Maybe I need to work on my delivery.

This is my first transit on the Esperanza (Spanish for Hope).  I've done stints on our other two ships, the Arctic Sunrise and Rainbow Warrior, but the Espy and I hadn't crossed paths until now.  It's a 72-meter "ice class" ship, with a top speed of 15 knots.  Built in 1984 in the Polish shipyards of Gdansk, the birthplace of Lech Walesa's historic Solidarity movement, Greenpeace purchased the ship in 2000 and launched it in 2002 as the newest and largest of our fleet.  It's well suited for our work on the high seas, as it can easily transit long distances and keep up with most commercial vessels we might choose to confront.  It's size, speed and heli-deck were ideal features this past winter during our campaign against the Japanese whaling fleet in the Southern Ocean.

The ship currently is carrying a combined crew and campaign staff of 33 people from over 20 different countries.  It's like a floating U.N., with a bit more hair and without the expensive suits.  The collective maritime experience of those currently onboard is staggering, representing a wealth of knowledge and an endless collection of harrowing tales at sea.  Nothing like the one told by the old sailor in "Rime of the Ancient Mariner", from which Coleridge's (mis)quote comes, (not to mention the expression of an albatross around one's neck) but they're captivating stories nonetheless.

In legion with this collection of sailors and activists from around the world we're trying to save, the "Hope" continues east on the third day of our transit.  If you ain't got hope you got nothing.

I said that.

Every so often someone comes along who is special to everyone he meets.  He brightens up a room, makes people smile and leaves the world a better place in his wake.  And as life would have it, sometimes these people are taken from us before we're ready to lose them.  Hayhow Nanoto was one of these people.

Six years ago, Hayhow died from a heart attack while on the Rainbow Warrior during an action in Equador.  Hayhow was from Pohnpei.  While we were here during our stop with the Esperanza, we wanted to take the opportunity to see his family and let them know we haven't forgotten him.

On Friday, three of us from the ship drove to his mother's house to say hello and invite the family to a reception on board the ship the next evening.  As we drove through the unfamiliar neighborhood looking for the house, we were able to locate it thanks to a large Greenpeace banner featuring a rainbow, which was prominently displayed on the front of their home above the porch.

When we offered the invitation to her and the extended family, Hayhow's mother started to cry.  "I'm not crying tears of sorrow", she explained in her thick island accent.  "I'm crying tears of joy that Hayhow's other family is here".

The reception was a who's who of Pohnpei decisionmakers, highlighted by the country's Attorney General and the Ambassador from Australia.  It also included several of our non-profit allies we work with in the region.  But the guests of honor were undoubtedly Hayhow's family - his mom, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles and cousins.  During the formal presentation on the back deck on a beautiful evening, after Attorney General Marstella Jack had stated her support for our work and thanked us for our collaborative efforts to publicize and stop illegal fishing in the Pacific, Lagi Toribau, our onboard oceans campaigner from Fiji, welcomed the family and spoke movingly about Hayhow and how his memory inspires our work.  Hayhow's uncle Mitchell thanked us for our hospitality on behalf of the family and for having meant so much to his nephew.  At one point, Mitchell said with a laugh the true beauty of Hayhow was the fact that he was so different from the rest of the family.  A laugh went up from the Greenpeace contingency in the crowd.  It's something we can all relate to.

Then last night Hayhow's family invited all of us from the ship to their home for dinner.  They laid out a large spread of food on a long table, cooked in the traditional style of Pohnpei that involves wrapping the food in leaves and cooking it on hot stones.  To see Hayhow's family extending themselves to us in this manner was again a stark moment that was moving to all of us.  The food was delicious, followed by the passing of the Sakau cup.  Sakau is a traditional island brew made from Kava root, which has very relaxing properties - like alcohol to some degree without the impairment, negative physical impacts or hangover.  It is a very thick and viscous drink, with a bitter taste.  Drinking it in such settings is part of the communion in Pohnpei, and was part of them welcoming us into their home.

As I was saying goodnight to Hayhow's mother at the end of the evening, she reached over, pulled me to her with a certain gentle strength and gave me a hug I will not soon forget.  "Thank you", she said, "for keeping his memory alive through your work.  Greenpeace meant so much to him".

 Hayhow was a true Warrior of the Rainbow", I replied.  "Both of his families miss him dearly."

"How do I get to the docks from here", I asked the customs officer at the smail airport in Pohnpei.

 "Walk out that door, take a right at the road, and it's about a one-minute walk to the gate", he replied.

Now there's something you don't hear everyday when asking directions from an airport.  It was a welcome and unusual element of proximity for what had been a long and involved series of flights.  In getting myself from Washington, DC to Pohnpei. Micronesia, I had flown roughly 8400 miles over a period of 36 hours, involving six different flights across nine time zones.  Plus I crossed the International Dateline, so I lost a day as well.  During one of the flight legs I took off at 7:00 a.m. on Wednesday, and when I landed five hours later at the first of four island stops along the way it was 10:00 on Thursday.  I'd go into how readers in the US can now peruse my blog entries the day before I write them, but I'm afraid the wormhole it might cause in the universal fabric could have serious implications for cosmic solvency.

Not that I'm complaining.  I'm here to join our ship the Esperanza, and will transit across the Pacific over the next four weeks as part of our international Defending our Oceans tour.  If there's one thing I've learned in my 18 years with the organization, it's that a lot of Greenpeace's magic is found in our ships.  A bit of jetlag and confusion as to what day it is are small prices to pay for an opportunity to join the front lines on the high seas.

I'm joining the ship on the Pacific leg of the tour, during which we will be focusing on illegal fishing and overfishing in this part of the world.  The Western and Central Pacific Ocean is the world's largest tuna fishery, as roughly 60% of the world's tuna comes from this region.  The sustainability of the Pacific fishery is vital to the well being of the Pacific Island nations, both as a critical economic resource and as a primary source of food.  Scientific authorities within the region have expressed strong concerns that Bigeye and Yellowfin Tuna species are being overfished and that fishing levels of these species must be reduced immediately.

Making the problem all the more difficult to address is the fact that illegal fishing in the Pacific is extensive.  Pirate fleets poach these waters using unsustainable methods, practices and destructive fishing techniques that have a considerable impact on the environment.  Not to mention that Illegal, Unreported and Unregulated (IUU) fishing bypasses revenue streams for the Pacific Island nations that are almost entirely reliant on these fish stocks for income.

These are the issues we plan to address on our transit.  While we're in port, we want to maximize our opportunity to work in this community.  Today we met with several government officials who oversee regulations and licensing for fishing in Micronesia.  They are frustrated with the difficulties they face in policing such a large area for illegal fishing opeations, made all the more difficult by the lack of funds and resources they have for enforcement.  It was encouraging to hear that part of their future management plan includes establishing protected marine reserves - a primary element in Greenpeace's international ocean strategy - in 20% of their waterways.  We also took the opportunity to communicate our feeling that Micronesia doesn't charge foreign fleets enough for licensing fees, as they receive fees equal to only 5% of the total fish value.  In addition to bringing in a more equitable level of revenue for a nation that depends largely on fisheries income for its economy, increased fees could help fund better enforcement of illegal fishing.

Tomorrow we'll hold open boats so the local residents can tour the ship and learn more about our work.

Following our meetings with Micronesian officials, we had about three hours to kill before our campaign planning meeting on board at 8:00 pm.  With some time to spare I hiked to the top of one of Pohnpei's tallest peaks with two of my colleagues, Farah from the Netherlands and Lagi, who is from Fiji.  The summit provided a stunning view of the island at sunset.  It's a beautiful place, with lush rainforest, mountains, monolithic rock formations jutting up from the forest floor and beautiful reefs along the coastline.  The view was a nice reminder of why I do this work.  It's not because places like Pohnpei are strategic nations in a multifaceted game of international politics.  It's because places like this take your breath away, and are stark reminders that this remarkable and delicate planet is a cause worth fighting for.