The perlemoen poacher

I met an abalone poacher some time ago – just after I first came to Cape Town. He’d brought his regulator in for repairs to a dive shop that I happened to be visiting. When the technician opened it up, it was packed solid with particles of rust from his dive cylinders. Confronted with the information that it will cause him to drown one day if he doesn’t bring his cylinders for a visual inspection and hydrostatic cleaning, the poacher explained that his dive cylinders wouldn’t pass a visual, because they’re painted black (instead of South Africa’s regulation grey and canary yellow).

His cylinder isn’t the only thing that is painted black. ALL his dive gear – wetsuit, booties, hood, gloves, regulator, hoses, first stage, pillar valves, BCD, mask, fins, torches, dive computer – is black. There’s not a single reflective surface anywhere. According to the poacher, if he was standing by the side of the road in his dive gear at night, fully kitted up, and you drove past, you wouldn’t see him. At all.

What does he do with all this stealth gear? He dives, alone, at night, to fetch abalone (perlemoen) from the sea. His dives are often to 50 metres, on air, and he has no redundancy in his setup. No alternate air source on his cylinder (“For whom?” he asked), and no buddy. He sometimes does four such dives a night, and can make R40,000 for a single night’s work.

His view of what he does is that the abalone lives in the sea, and if he goes and fetches it, it’s his. “The ocean is free,” he said. Hardly anyone else is prepared to do four night dives in a row to depths of 50 metres with no support except for a boat on the surface (with no lights showing), and to look for abalone and pry them off the rocks with a crowbar. Why shouldn’t he reap the rewards? He told me that he’s not taking money from poor people – he’s only taking from the ocean, and it’s a big place.

It’s dangerous work, too (and not just because of the way he dives). There are rival poaching groups on the south/east and west coasts, and a police crackdown on the west coast has brought “boatloads” of their poachers across to this side of the world. Shots have been fired, cylinders have been filled with water (hence at least some of the rust), and a simmering atmosphere of impending violent conflict has arisen.

This was the first time that I’d talked to a poacher, and it gave me a lot to think about. This is a world that we don’t necessarily have any insight into as recreational scuba divers, even though we know that what the poachers do is wrong.

Clare and I have seen poachers once or twice before, filling cylinders or buying gear (lots of it, expensive stuff) from dive shops all over. I’ve also seen more than one at Miller’s Point, early in the morning. One tried to sell me his dive gear for money to get home, because his friends had left him alone at the slipway wearing nothing but a wetsuit and his trenchcoat.

You may wonder why I am mentioning this. No one talks about it in the dive industry because it’s awkward and poachers have a lot of cash to spend on gear and air fills. But there is value in looking at hard issues. Tomorrow there is some more reading about abalone poaching, and it’s very thought provoking!

Abalone farm tour in Hermanus

Abagold abalone farm in Hermanus
Abagold abalone farm in Hermanus

Abalone (or perlemoen, Haliotis midae) is a highly exploited marine resource in South Africa, to the extent that it is currently illegal for individuals to harvest abalone from the ocean. All fishing was suspended in early 2008. Formerly it was possible to get a permit to do so. Limited commercial fishing has been allowed since 2010.  The government acknowledged that this would cause further depletion of the wild stock of abalone, but framed the decision as one to protect the livelihood of approximately 1,000 abalone fishermen. When there is no abalone left to fish, I wonder what those fishermen will do?

Ten, twenty and forty year old abalone
Ten, twenty and forty year old abalone

The demand for this unprepossessing grey mollusc is almost limitless, primarily from the east, where it is viewed as a status symbol and is highly sought after at banquets and to prove the host’s prestige. Given the huge demand and the fact that South African waters are the natural habitat of this species, abalone farming has flourished in South Africa, with eleven farms in operation. The largest is Abagold, with four farms located in Hermanus. Abagold employs over 350 local people (it is the largest employer after the municipality). Farm tours are offered every week day at 11am (they cost R50), and Tony and I did one on our way back from De Kelders.

The Abagold farming operation is extensive, actually consisting of several separate farms all located close to the (new) harbour in Hermanus. The tanks are supplied with fresh water directly out of the ocean – the temperature (generally 15-18 degrees) and water quality is not adjusted at all, since this is the optimum natural habitat for the creatures. The animals are fed on kelp, sea lettuce, and specially manufactured abfeed, and no chemicals are added to the water. As a result, the farm can pump the water straight back out into the ocean without causing any contamination. There is a constant circulation of millions of litres of water through the farm, keeping the abalone oxygenated.

The holding pens have a beautiful sea view
The holding pens have a beautiful sea view

Breeding stock are kept separately, and range in age from three to 30 years. Pairs are retrieved from the ocean periodically, and returned after a time. Abalone are distinctively male or female, distinguishable by the colour of their gonads, which are nestled under their shell above their large fleshy foot. Abalone spawn between August and November in nature, prompted by increased oxygen levels in the water. To stimulate spawning in captivity, hydrogen peroxide (H2O2) is added to the water containing broodstock, which causes their muscles to contract and release eggs and sperm.

Three to six month old abalone
Three to six month old abalone

Eggs and sperm are mixed in the correct proportions, and fertilised eggs sink to the bottom of the tanks where they are sucked out and placed in tanks where they hatch after several hours. Algae is specially cultivated on large plastic sheets, to which the free swimming larvae attach when they are ready (after about a week). They spend about three months feeding on these algae-covered sheets of plastic. The baby abalone (spat) are beautiful, with blue and turquoise, perfectly formed little shells 3-5 millimetres in size.

In order to remove the fragile abalone from the plastic sheets, they are anaesthetised with an infusion of magnesium sulphate into their water, which enables them to be gently rubbed off the sheets. It is around the age of three months that they develop light-sensitive eyes, which prompts them to seek out darker hiding places. Black plastic cones are supplied under which the young abalone live for another three to four months.

The blue-grey colour of the gonads visible here shows this is a female
The blue-grey colour of the gonads visible here shows this is a female

At about six months of age the abalone are sorted by size and moved into simple tanks with fittings that are constructed largely of standard irrigation piping and hard plastic sheets. The abalone are quite sensitive to their environment and water has to be kept very clean. They spent the next 3-5 years growing in their tanks.

Kelp is collected to feed the abalone at various farms in the Hermanus area
Kelp is collected to feed the abalone at various farms in the Hermanus area

When the abalone are large enough (about 250 grams, I think – a bit bigger than my palm), they are removed from their shells. The gonads, mouth, eyes and other organs are discarded, and the foot is either canned in fresh water and pressure cooked in the tin, or dried, in about a 50-50 split. All the production is exported to Hong Kong, China, Malaysia, and Singapore, with a 440 gram tin of abalone in brine fetching R200 to R450 for Abagold (it obviously costs more to buy it in the shops). The farm produces nearly 500 tons of abalone per year. This is big, big business.

We were very excited to see how sustainable this aquaculture model is. Fish farming isn’t a wonderfully clean or sustainable business, but this seems to be an effective way to reduce demand for wild abalone without harming the environment. There is a long way to go, however, before supply of abalone outstrips (or even comes close to matching) demand – according to our tour guide, there are buyers for whatever quantity of abalone the farms can produce. Legally harvested and farmed abalone comprised one ton out of the seven tons of abalone that left South African shores last year. The scale of the poaching problem is massive.

A Day on the Bay: Winter Perfection

Date: 18 July 2012

A very early morning wake up to head over the mountain to do a launch for one of the local dive centres whose boat was in for repairs allowed me to see this amazing sunrise.

Sunrise at Long Beach
Sunrise at Long Beach

The ocean conditions were just as good. Flat calm conditions in Smitswinkel Bay and at the SAS Pietermaritzburg, with beautiful visibility. I enjoyed sitting in the sun on the boat in short sleeves, even though it was winter!

A boat full of divers
A boat full of divers

I was highly amused when one side of the boat rolled over before the other – maybe they could hear my count better, or all the people with slow reflexes were sitting together!

Two stage backward roll
Two stage backward roll

As an indication of just how out of control abalone or perlemoen poaching is in our waters, here’s a boat loaded with abalone right out on deck, hoses for surface supply of air wrapped around at the back of the boat, landing in broad daylight – in front of a boatload of divers – on the slipway at Miller’s Point. We were stunned.

Abalone on the slipway at Miller's Point
Abalone on the slipway at Miller’s Point

Fortunately one of the other divers knew the number for law enforcement and called them immediately. They came down from where they were sitting on top of the hill (I’m not sure why) and (I hope) dealt out some justice. Unfortunately I don’t think the abalone got put back.

Law enforcement confiscates the abalone
Law enforcement confiscates the abalone

On my way home I saw the fishing boats returning to Kalk Bay harbour across this beautiful, flat calm sea. What a day!

Fishing boats returning to Kalk Bay
Fishing boats returning to Kalk Bay

Bookshelf: Shoreline

Shoreline
Shoreline

Shoreline: Discovering South Africa’s Coast by Jeannie Hayward, Jaco Loubser, Claudio Velásquez Rojas

Sometimes I do things in the wrong order, and reading this book (I think) is an example of that. It’s the companion volume to locally-produced series Shoreline, of which I have only watched one episode while having a raucous conversation with my sister about whether her former junior school rival had aged well.

Like the television series, Shoreline the book is divided into chapters by location, traversing South Africa’s 2,800 kilometres of shoreline from the Orange river to Kosi Bay. Much of the text is taken directly from the television program, for which the script was written by the brilliant Tom Eaton. Magnificent photographs by Claudio Velásquez Rojas, who worked with Thomas Peschak on Currents of Contrast. The aerial photos in particular are incredible – much of South Africa’s coast is dramatically rocky with gorges, cliffs and free-standing formations such as Hole in the Wall at Coffee Bay, and seeing it from an unusual angle is very special.

The book is not solely focused on the marine and coastal wildlife and plants found along our shores, although many species are singled out. There is evidence of extremely early human settlement and family groups along the South African coastline, where the poly-unsaturated fatty acids available from marine species such as limpets would allow large-brained humanoid inhabitants of the sea caves along the southern Cape coast to thrive. There is thus a strong archaeological focus to the volume, and the marriage between natural history and anthropology, geology, oceanography, zoology, botany and archaeology is beautifully achieved. The communities that currently inhabit the shoreline and utilise its resources also feature, and I enjoyed learning of the fish kraals at Kosi Bay, the fish traps built by 19th century farmers along the Wild Coast, and the Thembe-Tonga people, who harvest red bait and other invertebrates from rock pools at full and new moon. The book also touches on subjects such as the KwaZulu Natal shark nets, Knysna seahorses, the diamond industry on the West Coast, and a number of other special interest subjects that apply to different sections of our coast.

As soon as I finished reading this book I made plans for a midweek break at De Kelders for me and Tony later this year (during whale season) and I have been plotting how we can explore some of the Wild Coast without going missing or getting stuck in the mud. The South African coast is compelling and varied, and it seems that one could travel it for a lifetime without getting bored. This beautiful book showcases the beauty, variety and history of our coast in spectacular fashion.

There are some representative photos here. A short review can be found here. I’d recommend it for locals as well as for tourists who want a coffee table volume to take home as a souvenir – this one has substance, as well as the requisite pretty pictures.

You can purchase a copy of the book here.

Make a SEA Pledge tomorrow

Dr Ribbink at OMSAC
Dr Ribbink at OMSAC

A couple of weeks back Tony and I took our weary selves off to OMSAC to listen to a talk by Dr Anthony Ribbink of the Sustainable Seas Trust (SST). He and his team have spent a good couple of months on the road, travelling the length of South Africa’s coastline from Sodwana to Saldanha. They have been visiting yacht, boating, angling and diving clubs, and any other organisations related to use and enjoyment of the oceans.

Their aim is to encourage water users and coastal dwellers to make a SEA Pledge: a promise to take concrete, measurable steps to live in a more sustainable manner, decreasing their negative impact on the planet and increasing their positive impact. These pledges don’t have to involve massive steps – in fact, promising to do something that’s actually attainable will probably make it easier for you to keep your pledge! Examples of pledges could include:

  • Walking, cycling, taking public transport or sharing transport to work at least one day per week
  • Recycling the water from washing dishes to use on the garden (and using a biodegradable detergent, of course!)
  • Turning off lights as you exit rooms in your home
  • Using energy efficient lightbulbs
  • Eating sustainably fished seafood (from the SASSI green list)
  • Recycling glass, paper, and plastic
  • Safely disposing of expired medications and broken electronic equipment
  • Starting a worm farm in your garden for wet waste, to create compost
  • Purchasing a reusable water bottle and using it instead of buying bottled water
  • Showering rather than taking baths
  • Buying fruit and vegetables that are in season, and grown locally

The possiblities are only limited by your imagination. The best pledges are specific and list actions to be taken. Saying something like “I pledge to live sustainably and respect all living creatures,” while charming, will make it difficult for you to evaluate objectively in a year or a decade’s time whether you actually made a difference and kept your pledge.

This Saturday, 3 December, is the day chosen for individuals to make their SEA Pledges, co-inciding with the United Nations climate change talks (COP 17) that are taking place in Durban at the moment. If you’d like to make a pledge, you can visit the SST website to make one. Visit the Sea Pledge page on facebook for more. You can also participate in an event that is aimed at raising funds for SST. Indigo Scuba in Gordon’s Bay are doing boat dives and holding a braai on 3 December to raise funds for SST.

SST will also be delivering a petition to the United Nations asking the body to protect oceans and coasts. Everything I know about the UN makes me think it’s mostly fairly toothless, but one HAS to engage with governments and international bodies as well as taking action (i.e. a SEA Pledge!) on one’s own.

The Sustainable Seas Trust is a remarkable organisation that I am very glad to have heard about. Their work is far ranging and what I liked about their projects is that they recognise the complexity of the conservation issues related to the oceans. They work with coastal communities who would otherwise be forced to harvest (often illegally) ocean produce to survive, and through their SEAS Centres they provide education, skills training, healthcare services, and dignity to local residents. By uplifting the individuals who live close to the coast, the SEAS Centres will have a positive effect on the coastal environments that were formerly stressed by having to provide subsistence livelihoods to coastal dwellers. If you’re looking for a charity organisation to donate time or money to, or an organisation to support by means of your company’s social responsibility programs, SST is an excellent candidate. Go and browse their website to find out the full scope of their activities.

Bookshelf: Voyage of the Turtle

Green turtle on the move
Green turtle on the move

The first time I got to observe turtles up close was on our recent (April 2011) trip to Sodwana. We probably encountered ten individual Green turtles on the dives we did. I was amazed by how relaxed and calm they are underwater, and how languid their swimming style is (using the front flippers for propulsion and the rear ones as rudders). They munch at the coral, and allow you to pass by quite close without paying you the slightest bit of attention. When they swim away they look as though they’re hardly exerting themselves, but just try and keep up and you’ll see how fast they are actually moving! Five different species of turtle visit the waters of Kwazulu Natal, and Leatherbacks and Loggerheads actually nest in Sodwana, and during the summer you can go on a Turtle Tour to see the females digging nests and laying eggs on the beach.

So I’ve had turtles on the brain since earlier this year. This book was timely!

Voyage of the Turtle: In Pursuit of the Earth’s Last Dinosaur – Carl Safina

Voyage of the Turtle
Voyage of the Turtle

This is the second of Carl Safina’s books that I’ve read. The first, Song for the Blue Ocean, was a revelation to me – he writes beautifully, and covers so much ground that it was quite overwhelming. It was also incredibly depressing and left me feeling that, save for a few brave individuals, humanity was headed to hell in a handbasket.

This book is also beautifully written, with massive scope, mainly dealing with the massive Leatherback turtle but touching on the other six species as well (Hawksbill, Loggerhead, Green, Kemp’s Ridley, Olive Ridley and Flatback). These creatures are reptiles, but amazingly adapted to function in a range of water temperatures. Leatherbacks can swim in water so cold that it would freeze other sea creatures, thanks to special lipids in their blood. They are long distance swimmers of note, spending vast periods of time in the middle of the ocean, moving between feeding and breeding grounds. Seeing their migratory paths plotted on a world map amazed me – they cross entire oceans without a break. At some stages of their life cycle, they spend 97% of their time underwater.

Safina visits most of the primary turtle nesting sites around the world (from Florida to Papua New Guinea), and spends time in spotting planes counting turtles and nests with biologists and conservationists, and on fishing boats looking for these elusive giants out at sea. One section is particularly disturbing – he travels out with some swordfish fishermen, and describes the process of catching and killing these majestic creatures in some detail. Even though Safina is an ardent conservationist and founder of the Blue Ocean Institute, his self-confessed and very obvious enjoyment of recreational fishing – even (or specially) for big game fish – and the relish with which he describes it, is very, very disturbing to me and tends to make his other credentials ring somewhat hollow.

Turtles seem like prolific breeders to us parsimonious (well, some of us) humans. Each female makes several (five or six usually) nests during a breeding season, containing over 100 eggs. The reason for each female laying of the order of 1,000 eggs each time she breeds is because the eggs and tiny hatchlings are incredibly vulnerable to predation from crabs, birds, jackals, fish and other creatures who appreciate a concentrated dose of protein in bite-sized form. Adding to these natural threats are a multitude of dangers posed by humans, who have been on earth for a fraction of the time that these living dinosaurs have.

Human-created threats faced by turtles include entanglement in fishing line or nets, and capture on long lines. In all these instances they drown, as accidental bycatch. The lucky ones lose a flipper, or escape with a hook in their bodies and line entangling their flippers or tangled around their insides. Long lining will hopefully be completely illegal all over the world one day (it’s a brutal and wasteful way to fish), round hooks will become more prevalent, and turtle escape hatches – which are easy to fit and use on most kinds of fishing net – will become more widespread. Safina reports than locations where these hatches are law are reporting a much lower bycatch of turtles. Typically fishermen are fiercely resistant to any kind of change or advice about how to do their jobs, but there are some very persistent people working in this area.

Turtles are also eaten for food in some parts of the world, used for virility potions (can we all say it together… pathetic!) and their eggs are widely used for food as well. Their shells (this doesn’t apply to Leatherbacks, as they have tough skin stretched over bone instead of a hard carapace) are used for jewellery, dishes, and other purposes. It’s easy for poachers to observe the giant female turtles laying in full view on the beach, dig up the nests and remove all the eggs. Other man-made threats include artificial lighting that disorients hatchlings and sends them scurrying inland instead of towards the bright horizon of the ocean when they emerge from the eggs, and interference with beach contours by adding or removing sand. Turtles are particular about what kind of beach they like to nest on, and hatchlings usually return to where they were born in order to breed when their turn comes.

Their presence in the ecosystem keeps certain types of sponges, corals, sea grass and jellyfish (some of their dietary preferences) in check. There is, as Safina points out, a domino effect when the turtle numbers are dimished so much. And we can’t even see all the dominoes.

This is a more hopeful book than Song for the Blue Ocean. It’s made me want to visit Sodwana in summer to see some Leatherback turtles. These creatures have wisdom in their bones – nothing survives on earth for so long by accident. We’ll have to organise a trip there in January.

You can purchase the book here if you’re in South Africa, otherwise click here. If you want to read it on your Kindle, go here.

Documentary: Sharkwater

Sharkwater DVD
Sharkwater DVD

Rob Stewart is an underwater still photographer who decided to make this film at the tender age of 22. The original plan was to produce a documentary of “pretty pictures of sharks.” He spent the next four years on the road, filming sharks and getting mixed up with Captain Paul Watson and the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society (like Greenpeace but with weapons, they attempt to enforce international conservation laws in international waters – using tactics which range from throwing acid, ramming and sinking other ships, to damaging fishing gear, and direct confrontation).

The documentary is thus a blend of beautiful images of sharks in their natural habitat, and drama on land and on board the Sea Shepherd vessel that Stewart hitches a ride on. In Costa Rica they uncover a massive shark finning operation to which the government is turning a blind eye, and are arrested thanks to corrupt officials paid off by the long line fishermen they encounter and harrass offshore. Stewart travels to the Galapagos Islands – thought at one stage to be a safe haven for sharks – too, and the images of the wildlife there are astonishing.

This is an upsetting film. Unlike Disney’s Oceans, the footage of shark finning is real and horrifying. There are several scenes of seals and turtles being killed, and one image in particular, of the beak being removed from a living turtle, kept me from sleeping the night after I watched this. The murderous extravagance of fishing tactics such as long lining are shown here in some detail, and at times I could understand wanting to go out and sink a Norwegian whaling ship (Sea Shepherd sank a whole fleet of them, once!) or ramming a poacher’s boat to put a stop to this kind of activity.

Stewart doesn’t offer any concrete solutions – his film is more a call to action than a manifesto for change. Solving the issues of poaching, shark finning and long lining require changes not just in individual behaviour, but – in several cases – cultural mores and preferences. A brief interview with a young Asian bride – clearly educated – who says that she refuses to serve shark fin soup at her wedding (despite the prestige attached to this dish), is hopeful. Conservation is only possible after addressing the issues of poverty that force (or seem to force) coastal populations into plundering the ocean without regard to conservation status and the livelihood of future generations.

This is a beautifully filmed and heartfelt documentary effort that juxtaposes the beauty of the underwater environment with the ugliness of many of those who benefit from its wealth. Stewart loves sharks, he loves to photograph them, and for those who do not share his love, he repeatedly emphasises their role in the ecosystem as top predators. Their presence throughout the existence of complex life on earth has shaped behaviours present in creatures lower down the food web, such as schooling and camouflage.

The DVD is available here for South Africans, otherwise from here. There is also a book of photos from the documentary available. The official website for the documentary is here.

Sea life: Alikreukel

Alikreukel (Turbo sarmaticus) or giant periwinkles are also called ollycrocks, cockles or turban shells. Unfortunately if you google them you will mostly come up with recipes on how to cook them rather than their natural history! Like abalone, alikreukel are a slow-growing, heavily exploited food source and very large specimens are rare outside of marine reserves.

Alikreukel at A Frame showing operculum
Alikreukel at A Frame showing operculum

These large underwater snails can close their shells using a trapdoor called an operculum. One side is smooth, brown and spiralled, and the other (seen above) is covered in little white knobs. Their shells are unassuming when they are alive, but can be polished to show off the beautiful mother of pearl underneath the outer layers when empty. The snails’ bodies have a dark black or brown lip, with the rest being orange (as can be seen in the photo below).

Fleshy alikreukel on the Clan Stuart
Fleshy alikreukel on the Clan Stuart

Alikreukel are broadcast spawners, which means that males and females release their gametes and sperm into the water column in a synchronised effort. The fertilised eggs go through a larval stage, free floating until they start to develop a shell. Alikreukel are found to a depth of only about eight metres and use their rasping tongue, called a radula to feed on seaweed and algae.

Documentary: The End of the Line

The End of the Line
The End of the Line

It’s been almost a year since I finished reading journalist Charles Clover’s book The End of the Line, and the DVD of the documentary based on his book has been lying in our living room for I don’t know how long, waiting to be watched. Tony and I finally got around to viewing it recently – we were spurred on somewhat by the knowledge that some of the documentary was filmed in Malta. While we were in Malta in August we met a beautiful bluefin tuna on a dive, and also saw lots of tuna farms along the Maltese coast.

The End of the Line is about fishing, and how we’ve reduced the ocean’s fish stocks by something like 90% during the last half century. Where have all those fish gone, you ask? Well, we ate them. Incredible improvements in fishing technology – massive, factory-sized vessels that flash-freeze the fish while still at sea, huge nets, bottom trawlers – and insatiable demand for fish have conspired to produce what is literally an extinction event for many fish species. Having exhausted the stocks of continental shelf-dwelling fish such as codfish (do yourself a favour and read about the Grand Banks cod fishery in Canada and weep), fishing pressure has moved to deep water species. These species live in oxygen and light-poor environments, so they grow very slowly, live for up to 100 years, and only start reproducing in middle age. They simply cannot withstand the fishing pressure that we are able to exert on their populations, and soon they will be gone too.

The film’s director, Rupert Murray, had this to say on the DVD sleeve (an environmentally friendly cardboard folder):

Many natural history films about the oceans contain incredible footage and inspire passion for the natural world but we felt angry that more often than not they perpetuate a myth about the seas, that they exist in a perfect pristine bubble untouched by humankind. Now man’s destructive influence extends to every previously hidden canyon and crevice. Fishing has even induced evolutionary changes in fish. We are consuming every level of the food chain and the future looks deeply uncertain. We wanted to tell the true story of what is happening to our oceans by focusing on the most efficient predator operating in the system, man. It’s a fascinating and intriguing story that many people haven’t heard before and we felt it needed to be told because ocean issues are not on the agenda as much as they need to be. This problem affects 70% of our planet and the livelihoods of a billion people but The End of the Line is ultimately a story of hope because there is light at the end of the tunnel. Thankfully the solutions to such a seemingly massive and universal problem are stunningly simple. All we have to do now is make them happen.

There is more here than destruction of species and alteration of ocean ecosystems. One of the things that has struck me and Tony as we’ve watched several seasons of Deadliest Catch, about crab fishermen in Alaska, is that in many communities fishing is a family business that has been passed from father to son for generations. These “artisanal” fishermen (even though in the first world many of them use big boats now) are standing to lose their livelihood, but also a part of their identity. That loss of a heritage can’t be quantified. The End of the Line highlighted foreign fishing boats stripping the coast of Senegal while local fishermen using traditional methods struggle to find any more fish, but this problem is not unique to Senegal, or even to Africa. (As an aside, our suspicions about how well-regulated the Alaskan crab fishery is – it’s a shining example of attempts at sustainability – and the role of the US Coastguard in policing the fishing grounds and chasing out illegal fishing vessels, were confirmed. Nice job, Alaska!)

Dietary recommendations are that we consume fish at least one to three times per week. It’s important to balance the health benefits of a seafood-rich diet with an approach that preserves ocean resources so that we can still eat fish in the future. I firmly believe that by moving responsibility for making good seafood choices up the supply chain, to retailers and restauranteurs, a very significant difference can be made to the future of fishing.

Some restaurants are already ensuring that the only options they offer to consumers are environmentally friendly ones, but Charles Clover (author of The End of the Line and featured in this documentary) found in an informal survey of the world’s most influential seafood chefs that the industry is divided, with many restaurants continuing to serve juvenile fish or endangered species (and sometimes both). The fact remains that, until we can be sure that the seafood on offer in restaurants isn’t from a species that we wouldn’t, in good conscience, want to eat, the responsibility for making right choices lies with us, as final consumers of seafood.

The solutions that you can apply are these:

  • only buy seafood that is not from an endangered species, that is caught in a responsible manner, and that is sustainably fished. A list of retailers stocking only seafood from the SASSI green and orange list can be found here. Boycott the rest.
  • only eat at restaurants that serve food from the SASSI green and orange list, and choose to eat from the green list (I know, it means forgoing sole and prawns… very hard to say no!) Boycott the rest. In Europe there is a campaign called Fish2Fork which rates restaurants that serve sustainable seafood.
  • get hold of a SASSI information card, keep it in your wallet, and evangelise on its use to your dining companions. Read and understand the charter that seafood retailers who affiliate with SASSI must adhere to. There’s also a smartphone app from the Monterey Bay Aquarium called Seafood Watch but my concern with it is that regional names for fish and availability of species can differ between the US and South Africa, so take care.
  • be educated about the issues and take responsiblity for the future health of our oceans – as an inhabitant of planet earth, they belong to you, and you shouldn’t be cool with governments allowing them to be plundered in the name of short-term financial gain. Don’t pretend it’s not your problem. It is. Do some googling – this article and this article are a good start. Watch this documentary – local foodie Dax was appalled by how empty the cinema was when he watched it on circuit, but rent or buy the DVD (or just watch all the videos on this page) and expand your mind.
  • eat smaller fish: herring, sardines, mackerel. These fish are used in fish farming – they are fed to the tuna and salmon at the farms. Estimates are that it takes 5 kilograms of wild fish to raise 1 kilogram of farmed fish. This doesn’t make sense, and it’s wasteful. Besides, the omega 3’s and 6’s are abundant in those little chaps, and they are low on the food chain meaning there’s no danger of mercury poisoning as there is with tuna, which has absorbed the mercury from the entire food pyramid below it.
  • come diving, see fish in the wild, and appreciate that they are not just food… They are beautiful living creatures in their own right, and deserve our respect and protection.

The DVD release of The End of the Line contains several short films as bonus features. You can see some of that material here. You can get the DVD here if you’re in South Africa, and here if you’re not.

Here’s the trailer to whet your appetite…

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bedirwk95Oc&w=540]

OMSAC Cleanup Dive in Hout Bay Harbour

The divers with the garbage that was collected
The divers with the garbage that was collected

The third Saturday in September is International Coastal Cleanup Day. Millions of people head out en masse to pick up litter on beaches, in estuaries, and at other coastal sites. Divers around the world venture into locations that are heavily trafficked by humans, and pick up litter in the underwater environment. Last year we attended a cleanup dive in Murray Harbour on Robben Island, arranged by OMSAC. It was so enjoyable and so well organised that we decided to join OMSAC again this year, in cleaning up Hout Bay harbour.

Divers after entering the water at the floating jetty
Divers after entering the water at the floating jetty

We’ve actually been itching to check out what lies beneath the waters of Hout Bay harbour for some time. It’s a popular launch site during the summer months, and has a pleasant paved parking area with marina and mountain views. There are some hole in the wall cafes and restaurants around to provide expensive and unhealthy fare to the desperately hungry diver, and – for the non divers – the nearby Bay Harbour Market (a recently established market with much to recommend it apart from its preponderance of insufferably smug boys in tight, tapered jeans and ridiculous hats, who think that having a tufty beard at age 25 makes them seem moody and introspective – eventually someone will tell them it looks stupid, I hope). I digress.

Waiting on the surface to start the dive
Waiting on the surface to start the dive

Rant about obnoxious Cape Town subcultures aside, upwards (my estimate based on counting heads in the group photo!) of 80 divers converged on the parking area below NSRI Station 8 in Hout Bay harbour. After receiving our goodie bags, with an awesome Electrolux-sponsored golf shirt, a cap, a water bottle, and some sweets (I hardly saw mine except as they disappeard down Tony’s gullet!) we divided into groups of 10-15 and received coloured tags to put on our BCDs. The idea was that the groups would dive together, which reflected either extreme optimisim about the conditions underwater, or was just for show!

A Cape rock crab hides under some sea lettuce
A Cape rock crab hides under some sea lettuce

A short briefing held upstairs in the NSRI building informed us that we would enter the water off the floating jetty in the marina, and then swim under the jetty, across the inner part of the harbour, and exit at the slipway. We were to use green mesh bags to collect the rubbish we found, using judgment when it was already inhabited or encrusted with sea life.

Representative photo of the visibility when other divers were about!
Representative photo of the visibility when other divers were about!

Like all harbours (because there is no water movement, as Tony explained to his ignorant wife), Hout Bay harbour is very silty, and the slightest movement stirred up great white clouds that reduced the visibility to almost nothing. Despite this, and despite a strong fear of receiving a Japanese haircut from a passing boat, Bernita and I had an exhilarating dive after losing the rest of the group almost instantly upon descent. We found all manner of items, but mostly plastic bags and a few bottles. I’ll write about the dive in a separate post.

Mounds of garbage
Mounds of garbage

We surfaced near the slipway, and had to wait while a boat full of poachers (not kidding) got themselves organised and puttered off to plunder the seas around the corner. After reporting to the controllers that we were out of the water, we deposited our (smelly) bags of trash with the rest of the goods that the other divers had retrieved. Some of it was awesome stuff – several pool pumps and boat/car batteries, lots of piping, and even a GPS/fish finder unit that must have made its owner weep bitter tears as it sank expensively beneath the water.

Prizegiving inside NSRI Station 8
Prizegiving inside NSRI Station 8

The prize giving was held in the NSRI common room again, and awards were given to those who had retrieved large items such as batteries and pool pumps, for the coolest piece of junk (an Arabic – I think – alphabet – I think!) and to the guy who found the GPS unit. He won a really cool vacuum cleaner from Electrolux – perhaps it’s a sign of increasing age and domesticity that I can get excited about a household appliance, but I want one of these.  The oldest and youngest divers were rewarded, and there were even prizes for three divers who had to be chased back into the designated diving area by the metro dive boat. No one actually owned up to this, but we later found that Goot – one of our group – had been one of the rogue divers heading south instead of north!

Weirdest piece of garbage: an Arabic A-Z
Weirdest piece of garbage: an Arabic A-Z

Tony and I were given a prize for (excessive?) enthusiasm – but if the OMSAC committee thinks they’ll dissuade us from further events by embarrassing us, they’ve got another thing coming! It was a wonderful morning, well organised, with admirable safety provisions. We couldn’t believe how punctually things ran – co-ordinating such a large group of divers without incident is no mean feat.

Electrolux provided sponsorship
Electrolux provided sponsorship

Primary sponsorship was from Electrolux, as part of their Vac from the Sea program, and the Plastics Federation of SA. It was good to see heavy plastic users and manufacturers getting involved in efforts to reduce plastic pollution. Proceeds of the event were donated to the NSRI.

We found this anchor, but raising it was not an option
We found this anchor, but raising it was not an option

We completed the day doing two dives on the Underwater Explorers boat, both to the MV Aster. The second dive was a boat night dive, a new experience for me since all the other night dives I’ve participated in have been off the shore! More on that another time.