Watermelon, baseball, cookouts, beach trips and fireworks: Does it get any better than summer? Summer is my favorite season for many reasons, but sitting in the sand with a warm summer breeze while watching fireworks takes me back to being a kid and the sheer joy summer entails.
The Fourth of July is also a day that unites all Americans. No matter where you live, it’s the perfect day to gather with family and friends, spend time outside and end the evening gazing upward at colorful explosions in sky.
But amid the excitement of finding the perfect perch to watch the fireworks display and the rush to beat the traffic after the show concludes, it’s easy to forget all the small pieces of cardboard and plastic that float back down to the ground after the amazing spectacle in the sky. Unfortunately, this debris can end up in our ocean, affecting the health of people, wildlife and economies.
One of the most amazing experiences from my time with the GYRE Expedition occurred in Wonder Bay—a name that each locale in Alaska is rightly deserving of as the beauty and tranquility of the landscape here never ceases. Although Wonder Bay is aptly named, the debris problem here was much bigger than we expected considering its relatively small wrack line roughly 100 meters from the tide line, much higher than the other beaches we’ve surveyed.
My morning objective was to search for bottle caps along the wrack lines of each of the three pocket beaches lining Wonder Bay. I plucked 227 caps from the three beaches, some requiring far greater effort than others to collect.
A red bottle cap sticking out of a dense area of sedge grass quickly revealed another eight PET bottles, each with a colorful cap. With only a quick glance none of these items were visible, causing me to ponder how many other bottles and caps were hidden among the grasses or tucked into the various crevices among the rocks.
Motivating oneself to work on minimal sleep is not difficult after spending an hour watching humpback and fin whales surface-feed. Graced yet again with sunny skies and calm seas, we deployed Jubatus after fueling up on coffee and assembling our gear. We skimmed across the water’s glassy surface and landed on a small pocket beach at Perevalnie Point on Shuyak Island just after 9 a.m.
This is the second update from Ocean Conservancy Conservation Biologist and Marine Debris Specialist Nicholas Mallos, writing from the GYRE Expedition in Alaska. Read his first update here.
Surveying ocean trash in Alaska is not easy. Accessing pocket beaches poses serious risks as sea state, wind and extreme tidal flux make landing our 23-foot skiff, the Jubatus, extremely challenging. Our team cruised out of Tosina Bay’s placid waters and made for Gore Point six miles southwest. Once exiting the protected cove, 5-foot swell on the east side of Gore Point meant our approach would have to come from the west, where a lobtailing humpback and horned puffins welcomed us.
From a distance, Gore Point’s pocket beaches look just like any other beach, rocky with driftwood and kelp at the wrack line, the collection of seaweed and debris left by the last high tide. It’s not until you realize the driftwood is actually 50-foot fallen trees that the scale of the debris materializes; and even then it’s difficult to grasp. As we ferried to shore, what I thought was a small beached boat turned out to be a 100-foot fishing vessel, Ranger, whose cabin, wheelhouse and aft deck now lie stranded as three sections torn apart by Alaska’s elements. Looking at the massive steel hull was a humbling reminder of where we sit in the ocean hierarchy.
Most people visit the small town of Seward, Alaska, to take a half-day glacier and wildlife cruise through Kenai Fjords National Park. I arrived in Seward to board the R/V Norseman to depart for Expedition GYRE.
Organized by the Alaska Sea Life Center and the Anchorage Museum, our 14-member team comprised of scientists, artists and filmmakers has a shared vision: We want to establish a new dialogue on marine debris from the nexus of science, art and education and devise strategies for disseminating information to broad audiences, globally.
The scale and magnitude of Alaska’s marine debris problem is unlike any other I’ve experienced. The state’s 45,000-mile coastline has myriad coves and pocket beaches that capture massive quantities of debris, underscoring the fact that even the most isolated areas of our planet are not immune to the problems of ocean trash.
The U.N. partnered with Dr. Seuss Enterprises to develop the stamps, which showcase the timeless characters of Dr. Seuss’ book, “One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish.” Celebrating our connection with the ocean, the stamps remind us of how important it is to protect it.
The stamps—issued in three different currencies: U.S. dollars, Swiss francs and euros—are a further representation of the central role the ocean plays in our lives, regardless of what city, state or country we call home. “From near to far, from here to there,” as the stamps say, our ocean is everywhere.
While most middle and high school students across the country were sleeping in and enjoying a break from the rigors of school, 55 students representing many of the D.C. area’s schools dedicated their spring break to service.
Ocean Conservancy was honored to be one of the organizations to partner with City Year for their inaugural Signature Service week as part of the environmental sustainability day.
With a background in environmental and conservation education, I was thrilled to have the chance to spend all day working with local students, both in the classroom and out in the field. Yet I was a little apprehensive as well. When compared to the other issues discussed over the week, is trash really that big of a deal? Do middle school and high school students even care about trash?