Posted by jhocevar on 01/27/2008 01:19 am

I was in Anchorage last week for the Alaska Marine Science Symposium, presenting some of the findings from our 2007 Bering Sea Canyons Expedition.  I was presenting a poster, which is a common way to feature preliminary findings at scientific conferences, showcasing new coral data. Bob Stone, the NOAA ecologist who was on board the Esperanza with us, was the other author. 

I like poster presentations because you get a chance to interact with a large number of people, as opposed to oral presentations, where aside from a few questions it's largely a one-way lecture.  This way, I got to see people do a double take when they saw the paired NOAA and Greenpeace logos on the poster.  For those that read the conclusion, they saw that we - that's Greenpeace and NOAA - "recommend that canyon coral habitats be prioritized for protection and that additional research is undertaken to fully document the sensitive habitats in the region." 

Our findings also included several coral species that were previously unrecorded in the Bering Sea, as well as others that had never been found so far north.  Five corals were described as "common" or "abundant in one or both of the canyons we visited.  In all, we found at least fourteen species.   

Michelle Ridgway teamed up with legendary geologist David Scholl for a keynote presentation linking the physical structure of the canyons with the ecology of these highly productive features. Of the more than 600 scientists, policy makers, and industry lobbyists who attended the Symposium, I think it's safe to say that nearly all of them have a better understanding of the importance of the canyons than they did a week ago.

Meanwhile, the canyons will continue to face heavy fishing pressure until policy makers act to  protect these vulnerable habitats.  How much more damage will be done in the meantime?

John H
  

Posted by seamonkey on 01/13/2008 11:31 pm

WE GOT'EM!  After two and a half months and over seven thousand miles of sailing, we have found the whaling fleet.  Where did we find them?  In the international whale sanctuary.  What were they doing?  Killing whales.

After going the gauntlet of the roaring forties and furious fifties we finally reached the ice fields of Antarctica.  We began our search of an area that covers more than one million square miles and within just ten days we had located the poachers, without the helicopter mind you, and it was not easy.  With all hands on deck, we busted through sheets of ice so thick they made the entire ship shudder.

The arctic winds were relentless as they buried the ship in snow and ice on the daily.  In every window and port hole you could find someone with a pair of binoculars scanning the horizon. During a crew briefing, Capt. Frank put a hefty bounty out for the first person to spot the fleet, 

This ESPY is equipped with radar of course, but in ice fields where icebergs the size of cities are in perpetual motion, and pack ice oozes like a lava lamp, a radar screen looks more like a kaleidescope than anything. A cup of coffee and a pair of binoculars proved just as effective as any of our high tech tools. Plus, in looking for the whalers you would almost certainly find a whale or twelve. I actually got to kiss a humpback whale in the wild last Monday.

You have to watch this video;  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p0gwI_BI29c

It was around midnight when there came a knock on my cabin door followed by a whisper that said, "There is something on the radar, we think it is the fleet, you and your bear should come to the bridge and check it out."  We did and sure enough, there was a ship coming through on the radar and it was only two miles off the bow. However, the visibility was horrible and a dense snow storm prevented us from seeing more than a hundred yards in any direction.  Then almost instantly the red curtain was drawn to reveal a Japanese whaling ship, and the show began. By the time we could establish a visual, we were so close I could see into the bridge of the whaling ship with binoculars. We quickly identified her as one of two spotting ships. Bitter sweet was this discovery. It was great that we found the fleet but this was the worst ship for us to find. The spotter ships travel well ahead of the rest of the fleet to scout clear passages through the ice and to plot the most direct routes to pods of whales. As long as we could see them, they could see us, and as long as they knew where we were, they would make certain the rest of the fleet would steer a course that we would not intercept. So we "Kicked the tires and lit the fires!" We fired up the two main engines and high tailed it in the exact opposite direction of the one we had been traveling. We ran fast and we ran far, so far, many times I wondered if we could find our way back. After they had finally fallen off our radar screen and hopefully us off their's, we stopped.  We pulled the best u-turn ever and doubled back on a course that we hoped would bring us right behind the rest of the fleet.  A complete game of ocean chess. I felt like Sean Connery was going to walk into the bridge any second and start screaming orders like, "right full rudder, steer course two seven zero, flood the tubes, man your battle stations", but of course he did not.  I did watch Hunt for Red October that night though So, for two days we back tracked. We had fled on our two main engines but were now running on our electric efficiency engine so covering the same distance took twice as long. Lots of time for chewing on finger nails and pacing around in small circles. Then again, I was awoke by a knock on my cabin door, this time it was more like pounding than a knock and it was no gentle whisper, only frantic screaming. "We got them! We got them!" When I got to the bridge I found almost the entire crew crowded around the radar. The captain had already identified three ships in close proximity and it didn't appear as if any of them had noticed us. Then at 0230 we all stood in awe, drowning in elation and adrenaline, as one by one, the ships of the fleet rudely awoke to find they had company. It was like a barking dog had disturbed the neighborhood as each ship turned on their lights to see what the commotion was. I would have given anything to be onboard as the loud speakers ordered the Japanese sailors out of their bunks and to their positions, the gig is up. 

Then came a futile attempt at the trickery they are so infamous for.  The fleet scattered in all directions at full speed, but in doing so they allowed us to locate our target, the Nissa Maru (a.k.a. mother ship, factory ship, death star.)  Over the past eight expeditions, the Capt. had determined each ships range and speed capabilities.  So, when the ships fled the scene he was able to deduce by their speed which vessel was which.  We set a course to intercept the factory ship and put the petal to the metal.  In an attempt to create a diversion, one of the hunting ships turned and headed straight at us.  This is the same tactic they used two months ago as they were leaving Japan.  They thought we would take the bait and follow them while the Nissa Maru escaped.  Wrong!  In moments we were passing port to port with the decoy.  This was the sweetest moment for me of the entire trip thus far.  I stood on the bridge wing and with the biggest smile you could imagine I casually waved to the whalers, thinking to myself, "GOTCHA SUCKERS, GAME ON!!!"  As soon as they realized we weren't falling for it, they turned and took up a position just off our stern.  But their bag of tricks was not empty just yet.  Another hunting ship came along side the Nissa Maru so close that their radar trails merged as one making them appear to be only one ship on the screen.  Then at the last second they spit in opposite directions forcing us to choose one.  This is exactly what they pulled when sneaking out of port in Japan, and the Capt. laughed as said, "That won't work twice gentlemen." 

The Esperanza's top speed is just slightly more than that of the Nisshan Maru, so it took several hours for us to close the gap between us.  It was about six a.m. when she came into sight on the horizon and we could confirm that she was indeed the ship we had traveled so far to find.  There was cheering and I think I even caught a high five or two, but the celebration was short lived as it was now time to get down to business.

That was three days ago. Since then, we have been chasing the Nissa Maru at top speed. A caravan of the Nissa Maru followed by the Esperanza followed by the hunting ship.

The so called research vessel is fleeing the scene of the crime as fast as it can.  The whaling fleet is burning hundreds of thousands of dollars in fuel daily at the expense of the Japanese tax payers in order to not be exposed for commercial whaling yet again.  The bottom line is very simple and it is this, they are on the run, and as long as they are running they are not whaling.  For the last three days, zero whales have been murdered in the Southern Ocean International Whale Sanctuary. No whales were harpooned and I did not have to get hosed with icy sea water or drive an inflatable in front of a gun.  My focus now turns to my job in the engine room.  The Espy is running flat out and she is gulping down the fuel as well.  Lots of moving parts and right now they are moving real fast.

Since I began writing this a few minutes ago, the hunter ship on our tail has stopped and turned around in the direction we were steaming. Now it is just us and the "research ship" full of already packaged whale meat fresh out of the sanctuary.  It is clear by the way, that she sits in the water that the holds are flooded with dead whales. We are not sure what they are up to, but it is certainly no good.  In the meantime, they are putting more and more distance between themselves and the rest of the fleet. The hunting ships cannot hunt without the factory ship. Every hour they are apart is another hour no whales are dying. I have no doubt that they will indeed resume their hunting and when they do we will be there and we will use non-violent direct action to stop them. But for the time being, we have managed to run them completely out of the whale sanctuary.  This is more than we could have ever hoped for.

It is in many ways a surreal feeling to be in world’s slowest high-speed-chase. Two huge ships running full bore through fields of icebergs. But the best part of all, is that I just watched three whales surface right off the bow of the ship sent to kill them.  That ship had to sail right past them and those whales lived to tell all their friends about it.  They are on the run, but for how long? It is off to a good start but it is far from over. 

p.s.  every high speed chase needs spectators, here are a few of the locals cheering us on as they make sure they are well out of the way.

peace, heath

Posted by pribilof on 01/03/2008 3:24 pm

As we look to our trusty dictionary put together in Webster’s name, Third College Edition, to find the word “confidence” we find a part of the definition: belief in ones own abilities; the fact of being or feeling certain. Very cool words. Words that as young people we have been taught to believe in, to accept and to cherish because they, the meanings of these words, will carry us a long way to success in our lives.

In Alaska today, as in many other places throughout our shrinking planet, we are experiencing something so ominous that never before in the history of humanity we have ever experienced anything like it. We debate; question; lay out facts; make movies; win Nobel Peace Prizes, and yes, write opinions about global warming, or climate change as some choose to call it. Global warming. Interesting group of words. As in the globe is warming. The Earth is warming. Very interesting choice of words. And the facts are indisputable. It is happening.

Now, I can list the many examples and scientific facts of how we know for certain that global warming is happening, tell you who is saying what, where, and why. I can use the models that say this part of the globe is warming a degree here, a degree there. We can assemble a whole bunch of lists of examples of weather changes all examples of how temperature changes impact our weather, and ultimately our people, humanity. But, you can read that elsewhere. This is not one of those articles. This is a simple paper, thoughts, words about what I see and how I understand what is happening to my people here in Alaska, the Last Frontier.   

We, Alaska’s Native Peoples, indigenous peoples, have a long and proud history in our home. We settled here, in a place some call a frozen wasteland, birthplace of the winds, to raise families, develop cultures and a lifestyle from a rich but often unforgiving environment. And today, we take much pride, a healthy pride in what we have accomplished. We still speak a language handed down to us over hundreds and thousands of years. We still-hunt and gather our foods, as did our ancestors. We still call this place our home. We are still here. Now, as never before, we wonder in our homes, beside our wood fires, gathered around our dinner places, speaking to our children, wondering how much longer we are going to be here. Where are we going to be? In our villages or moving to the larger and more unforgiving cities, places where crime is rampant and food is scarce. Food, that is, that we know and have confidence in that is healthy for our diets. We just don’t know.

Local and national newspapers are filling with news about the plight of our home. Erosion from ocean storms is cutting into the security, the places on land where we live and have lived. Land is washing away, giving way to angry water. Winter is settling in, in ways never before experienced. And we are hunting for foods growing more and more scarce. Our animals, once respectful of our ways, are moving away and not coming back to offer themselves to us. They don’t respect us any longer. And we grow hungry. And we only drive motor bikes, bikes that leave such a small footprint of carbon that it is not we who have brought this plight, but someone else, someone far from our shores. But we are suffering. And the animals don’t respect us any longer.

We at Greenpeace have gone, on two consecutive seasons, to the Bering Sea to bear witness, to learn first hand the plight of our people. We have traveled hundreds and thousands of miles in our boats; a leased MV Pacific Storm and our own MY Esperanza to seek insights from our people about what is happening and how we can help to make a change. We came to the Bering Sea and the Gulf of Alaska to find answers, only to find more questions. We listened, interviewed, filmed, talked, and planned. We are here. And we are still seeking answers.

Food is becoming scarce. Not only is the food we depend upon harder and more difficult to capture, but the food we use as economy to buy food from our shrinking shops, imported to supplement our diets. Fuel to drive our motor bikes, power our skiffs our boats, is expensive, in some places a gallon well over seven dollars. Oil to heat our homes comes from Venezuela, a foreign government. And we are here.

From our works, our interviews, our films, and our talks, we think we might have found a way to help insure longevity for our people in our villages, for all of us actually. To ensure food, health and a return to a vibrant culture, perhaps we can etch out zones in the water, in the Bering Sea, the Gulf of Alaska, where we can begin to rebuild a home for our animals and plants. We call these zones, cultural heritage zones to emphasize the best of what we are. (I speak of “we” in both the sense of being Alaska Native and a member of humanity) Zones in the water protected from the destructive practices of the way western man harvests fish and now think is normal.  Ways that destroy, perhaps forever, in one’s lifetime, that is forever, habitat critical to the needs of our foods and our homes. Ways that, unless we put a stop to their insidious creeping crawling scraping of the oceans floors, are insuring our end to survival as Alaska’s first peoples, not to mention the creation of another George’s Banks. Large commercialized factories on the water called trawlers are doing this and the animals are blaming us. They don’t know we respect them. They, our foods think, it is we, collectively, destroying their homes, and perhaps they are right. For if we do not speak up to put an end to this practice of sweeping up the floors of our waters, yes, it is a collective destructive force no matter who is doing it. Cultural heritage zones! What an idea. What an answer to our needs, to our questions. Protective areas where we can ensure the health of our foods, where they, our foods can regain their respect for us, where once again, we can have confidence in who we are and what we do.

The water changes color, temperature and viscosity. We wonder about its health, leading to our way of life. The globe, the Earth, the planet is warming and our hearts have become colder, facing questions too difficult to answer. But, we are here, working and seeking. Join us in our quest to regain confidence, to regain the trust of our foods, our animals and plants. Join us as we move to continue our cultural heritage place on this planet we call Mother Earth.