Posted by pribilof on 08/17/2007 5:07 pm

"...are we there yet?" How many of we parents and grandparents have heard those wonderful and so touching questions when driving? Oh, I know it can be so annoying, especially when stuck in rush hour traffic, or when we are a bit late, but to those of us who are seperated for any length of time from our families, they are words more and more cherished.

So, for me, back on the Esperanza after a brief recharge and wonderful break with my family (we went dipnetting for salmon on the Kenai river, rested in hot springs pool east of Fairbanks, saw the bottom half of Mt. McKinley up close, and basked in being thankful for being married for 34 years now) it is, well, good to be back to my other love in life, the Bering Sea. And so, I ask "...are we there yet?" But, asked not until I saw, heard, looked, listened and wowed the results of our dives into the abyss next to my home on the Pribs. Oh my gosh, what amazing, and at the same time, saddening wonders! Amazing that my doorstep to my life, my childhood, my dreams are and were the Canyons! Saddening, because, someone came, or in our case, lots of someones, came and trashed my threshold to security, peace and a gift which He eventually allowed me to open and peek in. I peeked. I teared up. I smiled. I oh my goshed, and probably for now, will continue to oh my gosh. Our dive team went literelly down and beyond expectations. So much so that I walked the beaches of Dutch Harbor, beaches far from this industralized mess of killing for food, and finally learned, inner knowledge, that the marine cultural heritage zones are happening. We are doing it. A dream, seeminly impossible at its birth in my head, being made real by Greenpeace and our wonderfully dedicated group of people, and being done correctly.

So now, we are getting ready to listen to my question: "...are we there yet?" I am going home. I am coming back to my birthland, birth homes, both the Pribs. Coming back to smell, taste and see my playground, which now is in grave danger of becoming a tomb to dreams, to memories, to wonders. I am going home. And I am nervous, filled with butterflies, wondering if what I am doing is the right thing. And, you know what? Through those nervous, butterfly feelings? Through them, I know it is right. Without the help of all of you, having a chance to keep clean our home, our heritage, none of this would have been possible. I often ask: "Why is Greenpeace doing this, to help my people, our people, why?" And I learned; because its the right thing to do. In all humanity, from time beginning to now, it is the right thing to do.

We will once again, visit, talk, listen and learn. We will discuss where we are going to finalize our marine cultural heritage zone plans, what reports, studies, laws, and all that such, that will ensure parts of this bloodline of Mother Earth is not trampled upon, destroyed and mocked by anyone.

So, the answer to my question: "...are we there yet?" has been given. Yes, we are. We have a few more hurdles to overcome, this first being the most difficult, this research. We have some hurdles, and I know, you are going to help Mother Earth. It is the right thing. And me? I am going to know, yes, when we come together against seemingly insurmountable odds and put our collective hearts and minds into it, we are a force to be reconded with.

As we come closer to the midpoint of our two weeks left in our tour, I will try to put into words our final goals, the directions we need to yet go. However, just being at this point in the Bering Sea, working and growing, gives us all a sense that yes, we are doing the right thing in protecting this planet we call Mother.....Earth.

Until next time

George 

Posted by stoweaway on 08/17/2007 2:40 pm

Greenpeace is known for rocking the boat, but we also have boats that ROCK, and I don't mean just the way the Espy is rocking us right now, gently like babies in a cradle. This ship has five zodiacs on board, a sauna, a heli-pad, and...most important of all...an espresso machine in the lounge, the engine that truly powers this vessel according to certain wags. All this, and I keep flashing back to the Phyllis Cormack, Greenpeace's first boat, that set sail from Vancouver in 1971 for Amchitka Island where the U.S. government was preparing to explode an atomic bomb hundreds of times bigger than the one that leveled Hiroshima.

There wasn't enough room to swing a cat on board let alone ribbon dance, like bosun Penney was doing up on deck the other night. She blushed when she saw Captain Pete and I watching her, stopped, and picked up the cigarette she'd been smoking intermittently. She is slender and tall and pure muscle, like most of the crew. Then there are the rest of us, slouched over our laptops, barely fit to hoist a coffee cup. Another thing not on board in 1971...laptops. Greenpeace has come a long way, baby.

When a friend who lived in Alaska back in the day heard I was going to Amchitka she said: "I thought it was just called "Amka" now...because that last nuke test in '71 blew the "chit" out of it." Yeah. Five megaton nuclear bombs will do that to a wildlife preserve. According to the U.S. Atomic Energy Commission, who couldn't give a "chit" about sea otters, let alone the wisdom of exploding atomic bombs underground in the most volatile earthquake zone in the world, no damage was done and no radiation escaped. But when Greenpeace scientists visited Amchitka in 1996 they found radioactive isotopes such as Tritium and Krypton in groundwater and fish. A spokesman for Arctic-Alaska couldn't understand it. "We've never found any radioactive fish," he said. Later he admitted his company had never tested fish for radioactivity...and had no plans to start. The Phyllis Cormack became the touchstone for a worldwide outrage that erupted against the blast, and although it didn't stop it, afterwards the U.S. government announced it would cancel the rest of the series of tests planned. Seven blasts were originally announced. Only three were ever carried out. So, sometimes the ire of concerned citizens, intelligently directed, can go up against the biggest military industrial complex in the world and win. And there's nothing like rocking the boat with boats that rock! More memories...stories...and tales of life on the Espy soon.

Posted by peterwillcox on 08/17/2007 2:28 pm

We are back in Dutch Harbor now and enjoying the first sunshine since we left here three weeks ago. As I look north out of the harbor, I can see the almost ever present fog bank waiting for us. The last three weeks we used two one person submarines and an ROV (Remotely Operated vehicle) to explore two canyons around the Pribilof Islands. It was tiring work for the ship drivers. Maintaining communication with the submarines meant staying directly (plus or minus 100 meters) over them. Staying on top of the ROV is sort of a given, as it is attached to the ship with a 1000 to 250 meter fiber optic cable.

Esperanza is quite maneuverable. We have thrusters (sideway propellers) in the bow and stern, and twin screws on the main engines. When we were working the subs or ROV, it was our habit to turn off the port main engine. We did this because we were using the port side for launchings, and the ROV cable point. So with the port propeller turned off, it was easier to keep the fiber optic cable to the ROV out of the propeller. That’s something that can spoil your whole day.

Meals are a big part of our day on the ship. It’s about the only time almost all the crew is gathered together. Raymond (Netherlands) and Samantha (New York City) turned out terrific lunches and dinners. Breakfast, except on Sunday, is: get it yourself. The cooks have to do some careful planning to keep the ten vegetarians, ten people who (like myself) eat fish as well as veggies, and the 12 meat eaters happy.

That the Esperanza has been a very happy ship the last few months is in no small part thanks to our cooks. On this point, I have to recommend Linda Greenlaw's excellent book, The Hungry Ocean. I always used tofigure that if the crew was happy, they would like the food. Linda, a sword fishing captain from the East Coast, figured if the food was good, then the crew would be happy. I now subscribe to her theory. And for those who would like a realistic view of what it’s like to be a fisherman, you should read her book.

I used to fish more than I do now, which is not much at all. But I used to spend time with my friend Mark Williams in Key West. Mark was a serious fisherman, and it was always and interesting experience to goout and try to see the ocean through his eyes. Whether it was spear fishing, catching lobster with tickle sticks and nets or rod and reel, I always learned.

But Mark is not fishing anymore. Pollution and run off has killed all the coral reef around Key West. And once the small fish lost a place to live and grow, the bigger fish stopped coming around. You can go a longways out to the west to find healthy coral, but Mark does not want to make the long trips anymore. And that's a pity.

This is one of the reasons we did the research on Zhemchug and Pribilof Canyons this summer. Our research should give the scientists a better understanding of the place the deep sea corals have in the lives of the commercial catch. The Bering Sea is a wonderful resource. And we can not allow our selves to kill it off.