Bowermaster’s Adventures: Protecting the Maldives

by Jon Bowermaster on

Laamu, Maldives— The recent four-day, ocean-focused conference — dubbed WaterWoMen by its sponsors, Six Senses Resortsand +H2O— was a first-of-a-kind blend of water sport activities and intellectual athleticism.

Equal part coming out party for the resort on this remote Maldivian atoll just a100 miles north of the equator included were not just some of the world’s top water athletes (surfers, windsurfers, free divers, kite boarders) but some of the planet’s more thoughtful thinkers on ocean issues as well.

On the athlete side were surfers Layne Beachley and Buzzy Kerbox , windsurfers Levi Silver and Keith Teboul, kite surfers Mark Shinn and Alex Caizergues and extreme wake boarder Duncan Zuur.

The slightly less active contingent included biologist and oceanographer Dr. Callum Roberts; aquatic filmmaker and 3rdgeneration ocean lover Fabien Cousteau; Carl Gustaf Lundin, director of the IUCN’s Global Marine Program; Bollywood producer/director Shekhar Kapur; Chris Gorell Barnes, executive producer of the film “End of the Line;” and Water Charity co-founders Dr. Jacqueline Chan and Averill Strasser.

The Maldives is a perhaps the perfect place for such a meeting since warming sea temperatures have put its coral reefs at risk, thus endangering both its local population and the tourism industry that is its economic base. The event was prudently also a fundraiser for a trio of ocean non-profits:

The Blue Marine Foundation(www.bluemarinefoundation.com), created by Barnes, a recent initiative pushing for ten percent of the world’s ocean to be placed into marine reserves by 2020 (today less than one percent is thus protected);

Plant A Fish(www.plantafish.org), Fabien Cousteau’s hands-on marine education and restoration effort to engage local communities around the globe through schools, businesses and government agencies to “re-plant” aquatic plants and animals in environmentally stressed areas;

Water Charity(www.watercharity.org), focused on providing safe drinking water, effective sanitation and health education to those most in need via the most cost-effective and efficient means.

One the most important subjects whenever marine folk gather is that of how to better protect the ocean at the edges of our coastlines. The statistics are simple and seemingly ridiculous: More than 12 percent of the earth’s land is protected, whether as park, reserve, preserve or sanctuary. Of the ocean, which covers nearly 72 percent of the planet, far less than 1 percent is formally protected.

The Maldives is proudly home to the new, 1,200 kilometer square Baa Atoll World Biosphere Reserve.
One frank discussion during the Maldives gathering included some of the more experienced players in that arena: Callum Roberts, whose “Unnatural History of the Sea” is perhaps the best book out there about how man has so badly treated the ocean over the past 500 years; Chris Gorrell Barnes, a London-based advertising executive who used his promotional skills to help “The End of the Line” move from book to internationally seen film about man’s grave impact on the planet’s fisheries and Carl Gustaf Lundin, who oversees marine and polar programs for the International Union for Conservation of Nature, which is responsible for helping create MPAs around the globe.

Roberts led off and was most direct: “So-called paper MPAs won’t work,” he said, referring to all the talking about, thinking about and hoping to protect parts of the ocean that goes on without actually doing it. “Establishing them, then enforcing the boundaries is key.”

“And only local protection works,” he continued. “Bringing in environmental groups or government agencies from outside won’t work. Local people have to protect their own waters.”

Calling MPAs “barometers” of the ocean, he said he was thankful for the newly announced set aside of the Baa Atoll — one of 26 big atolls that make up the Maldives, which include more than 800 individual islands or smaller atolls — because the Indian Ocean that surrounds the island state has been badly impacted by development stress, overfishing, pollution and, particularly, the impacts of climate change.

Barnes, whose Blue Marine Foundation — created as a follow up to the success of the “End of the Line” — was among several instrumental in getting the Baa Atoll approved as an official UNESCO Biosphere Reserve. The goal of Blue Marine is to see 10 percent of the world’s ocean formally protected in the next decade.
“What we need now is not more science. It’s money. The biggest challenge is how to fund marine reserves, especially in bad economic times,” said Barnes.

Working with the IUCN, an MPA five times the size of the one in the Maldives has been set up in the Chagos Islands. “But in order to get that accomplished,” said Barnes, “we had to raise outside money to help the U.K. government, which is a prosperous First World nation. Imagine how difficult it is for countries in the developing world to find money to protect the ocean.”

Roberts chimed in that the money needed to protect even 30 percent of the ocean was not that much, in the big picture. “That would cost just over $14 billion,” he said, “or about the amount spent on beauty care products each year.”

The IUCN’s Lundin suggested that $14 billion was paltry compared to the $70 billion spent by countries around the world to subsidize fishermen. “The big question for MPAs, including here in the Maldives, is how do you subsidize people notto fish?”

He had dived off Laamu earlier in the morning and had seen just five big fish in a stretcher where “I should have seen 50.”

“We have to do better at teaching people that a live manta ray, which helps bring millions of tourist dollars to the Maldives, is a far better deal than killing and selling its gills in China for a few hundred dollars.
“But the time to act is now,” he said,” since we’ve only got 10 percent of the fish left.”

He agreed with Roberts that enforcement was key to making MPAs work.

“We have helped many areas in India gain protection, but enforcement then becomes a low priority. The reality is that you have to hang a few people high from time to time, as example, to help with enforcement,” he said.
The IUCN keeps a list of scofflaw vessels around the globe, including the names of ships and their captains, but Lundin liked the example of Malaysians who when they catch a boat poaching in its waters sink it within 24 hours.

” ‘Warm and fuzzy’ doesn’t always work,” he said. “For MPAs to work, enforcement has to be swift and effective.”

Bowermaster’s Adventures: Learning how to breathe in the Maldives

by Jon Bowermaster on

LAAMU, Maldives — A fast-moving rainstorm blew over the small atoll late in the afternoon, briefly cooling a humid day just 100 miles north of the equator. But within twenty minutes the sun was back hot and bright, the air even thicker with dampness. Aaaaaah paradise!

I was desperate for some cooling off, having spent the morning learning something I thought I’d mastered long ago: How to breathe.

The lessons had taken place in a pool behind one of the guesthouses at the new Six Senses Laamu resort where I’d joined a dozen superstar water athletes from around the world — surfers, kite boarders and wind surfers — learning not so much how to breathe, but how not to. My skimpy personal best for holding it while hanging onto the edge of the pool was about two-and-a-half-minutes; a couple guys went to five minutes and nearly blacked out.

Our task-master, standing waist-deep in the pool as we dunked our heads, stop-watch in hand, was German free diver extraordinaire Anna von Boetticher, one of the world’s best at holding her breath. While we were experimenting in the relative safety of a four-foot-deep, suburban variety chlorinated pool she has dived to record depths wearing just a pair of oversized swim fins and mask to more than 270 feet.

She was most enlightening when debunking the “Baywatch” notion of saving near-drowning victims by pumping violently on their chests and blowing spittle into their mouths. She demonstrated the preferred method, which she said most are actually “saved” by, which involves light blowing on the cheeks and a little slap. Of course if that doesn’t work, she admitted, then move quickly to the chest pumping and spit swapping.
A one-of-a-kind inaugural crowd — the event was dubbed WaterWoMen, co-sponsored by Six Senses and +H2O — had gathered at the newly opened resort, equal parts coming out party for the remote resort and a conference that included a bunch of world-class athletes as well as some of the planet’s more thoughtful thinkers on ocean issues.
On the athlete side were surfers Layne Beachley, Buzzy Kerbox and 20-year-old Bethany Hamilton (the subject of “Soul Surfer,” the recent feature film about her being bitten by a shark and losing her arm when she was 13), windsurfers Levi Silver and Keith Teboul, kite surfers Mark Shinn and Alex Caizergues and extreme wake boarder Duncan Zuur

The less-active-yet-super-committed contingent included biologist and oceanographer Dr. Callum Roberts; aquatic filmmaker and 3rd generation ocean lover Fabien Cousteau; Carl Gustaf Lundin, director of the IUCN’s Global Marine Program; Bollywood producer/director Shekhar Kapur; Chris Gorell Barnes, executive producer of the film “End of the Line;” and Water Charity co-founders Dr. Jacqueline Chan and Averill Strasser.

The Maldives is a perhaps the perfect place for such a meeting since warming sea temperatures have put its coral reefs at risk, thus endangering both its local population, its reputation as a diving paradise and the very tourism industry that supports it economically. It was prudently also a fundraiser for a trio of ocean non-profits: The Blue Marine Foundation, created by Chris Gorell Barnes, a recent initiative that is pushing for ten percent of the world’s ocean be placed into marine reserves by 2020 (today less than one percent is thus protected); Plant A Fish, Fabien Cousteau’s hands-on marine education and restoration effort to engage local communities around the globe through schools, businesses and government agencies to “re-plant” aquatic plants and animals in environmentally stressed areas; and Water Charity, focused on providing safe drinking water, effective sanitation and health education to those most in need via the most cost-effective and efficient means.

After learning to breathe, I had lunch with Callum Roberts and Carl Gustav Lundin and the main subject was what to eat. Not just this day, but everyday, a common subject among ocean lovers. “To eat fish, or not to eat fish?” is the unending question.

Lundin, whose IUCN has been instrumental in helping set aside the world’s largest marine reserve in the Chagos Islands, suggests that in the Maldives tourism has actually been good for local fish because like most island nations local fishermen see the impacts of overfishing first hand. And here all tuna must be caught by pole, thus it’s a safer bet for consumers than most places.

The agreement we make is that if you know what you’re eating — where it’s from, when it was caught, what the impact of taking it may have had on its ecosystem — then a grilled fish is the perfect choice. The challenge — even for the fish savvy joined at a conference focused on how best to protect the ocean — is that it often requires a boatload of detailed information in order to make a wise choice.

[Flickr image via notsogoodphotography]

Maldives in Peril: Exploring the island of Maalhos

by Jon Bowermaster on

Late on a Sunday afternoon, hardly a day of rest in this part of the world, the small island of Maalhos is quiet. The men, most of who go to sea each day to fish or work at one of six nearby tourist resorts, are absent. School is out for a week’s holiday so kids of various ages scamper up and down the short, dusty streets. The women of the island of 600 are mostly in doorways or small backyards or sitting in laid-back sling chairs made of strong twine strung from metal frames lining the streets.

On the beach, the late afternoon sun in the shade, a gaggle of boys swordfight with palm fronds. A woman in brown headscarf sits cross legged playing a sophisticated game of jacks with small round stones. Three women sit together knitting palm fronds into roofing material. A trio of girls in their early 20s follow us as we walk the streets, painfully shy, peeking out from beneath headscarves, smiling.

Like all Maldivian towns this is laid out in squares. From the start of any street you can stare down it and see blue ocean at the other end. As I walk the streets, obviously an outsider, accompanied by a translator — one of the many islanders who works at one of the six tourist resorts in the Baa Atoll — I stop to chat people up and the responses are friendly, smiling. Everyone I meet – man, woman, child – gives me a good, hard handshake as a hello. Though poor, this is not an impoverished place.

Despite the booming tourist business that exists on islands all around, most of these people have little contact with outsiders. Tourists in the Maldives are confined largely by geography to the resort islands. Water surrounds and there aren’t shuttles or ferries or water taxis to take people easily from island to island. During the recently ended thirty-year dictatorship, locals were strongly discouraged from mingling with visitors, concerned that negative influences from the west might rub off. Tourists drink alcohol, run around mostly naked and come to party, after all. By comparison, the local populace does not imbibe and is called to prayer several times a day (though there is reportedly a sizable heroin habit and growing drinking problem among many of the Maldive’s young people).

Concrete-block-and-cement walls lining the streets are painted in bright orange and purple and faded blue; older walls are made from pieces of coral, a construction now forbidden due to efforts to preserve the fragile reefs. Many of the walls bear stenciled black-and-red “Vote for Saleem” signs, which rather than feel defacing are actually a reminder of a positive thing that’s come to the Maldives in the last few years: Democracy.

I visit with a woman dressed in purple from head to toe; she is bundling reeds for roofs, explaining she is the breadwinner since her husband is sick. Fifty-two, she came here thirty years ago from a nearby, smaller island. In that time, she says, everything has gotten better. The economy. Politics. The way of life, including fifty channels of satellite television. And yes, she worries about rising sea levels, but primarily for her kids. “The seas are climbing … but what can I do?” is the plaint I hear from most here.

While the impacts of global warming are being hotly debated at the SLOWLIFE Symposium at the nearby Soneva Fushi resort, the reality of it and the inevitable impact on local life seems very far off. Talk to locals and they will admit they have to go further to sea to find the fish that used to swim just offshore. They will tell you that there seem to be more storms these days, more powerful storms. They admit that erosion is eating away at the beaches they have played on all their lives. But to ask them to connect those changes to carbon emissions and international laws of the sea is a stretch.

Yet they remain the best “reporters” of how a changing climate is — slowly — having a real impact on their daily lives.

On the far side of the island a Woman’s Collective has turned out for a late-afternoon communal sweeping of a corner of the island. Bent at the waist, wearing headscarves and long dresses, they whisk brooms over the sand/dirt ground along the edge of the sea. Paid a small salary by the local government, the clean up is a good thing. But a bad side of island life here is evident just behind where they sweep: Piles of plastic garbage bags, which apparently did not make the once-a-month barge that carries garbage away to a nationwide rubbish-island near Male.

“You ask where the tsunami hit,” responds a 70-year-old man in green polo shirt, faded madras skirt and red Nike flip-flops. “Everywhere. That wave came from every direction at once.” He lucked out when the wave hit, since he was twenty feet up a coconut tree knocking off cocos.

Deeply tanned, his shaved head boasting a thin veneer of graying stubble, he tells me he still fishes when there’s a bit of wind, necessary because his boat has only a sail, no motor. A jack of all island trades, he’s fished, collected coconuts, worked construction and, not so long ago, was paralyzed over half his body due to some unexplained (to him) malady. Today he shows off his good health with the strongest handshake yet.

Volvo Ocean Race begins with a bang

by Grant Martin on

A few weeks back, Gadling Labs took a wander around Team Abu Dhabi’s VO70 ocean racer and one thing was apparent: weight is key. Non essential components are stripped from the ship, appointments are minimal and everything that can be made out of lightweight composite is incorporated — even the steering wheel.

Four hours into the race, the team learned a drawback to composite materials: when they fail, it’s usually catastrophic. Luckily, nobody on the boat was injured and there was a backup mast in Valencia. After a few days in port, the team briefly set out for Cape Town, but decided to withdraw in order to prepare for the next leg.

In the meantime, the four remaining teams are still headed towards the Cape of Good Hope. You can follow the race around the world for the next nine months at VolvoOceanRace.com.

Gear Tip: Store your hydration bladder in the freezer

by Mike Barish on

If you love hiking, cycling, mountain biking or any other outdoor activities, you need a good hydration pack. Carrying your water in a bladder stored in your pack keeps your hands free and you hydrated. The problem with hydration packs, however, is keeping the bladders clean. Try as you might, you won’t be able to get all of the water out of them when you get home. Stagnant water is a breeding ground for bacteria, which will make water stored in your bladder taste funky and potentially unsafe to drink. Bladders aren’t cheap, so you don’t want to replace them the minute they start to smell poorly. So, how do you keep your water bladder clean and safe? Here’s a simple trick to avoid bad smells and worse bacteria.

Store your hydration pack’s bladder in the freezer. The bladders aren’t that big when they’re empty (even a three liter bladder, like the one in the Osprey Raptor 14 that we reviewed), so you’re bound to be able to find some space in your ice box for one. Go ahead and put the hose in there, too. Any part of the bladder that might have water left in it should get put in cold storage.The frigid temperatures will kill any bacteria and prevent odor from forming. The next time you need your hydration pack, simply take the bladder out of the freezer, fill it up as you normally would and enjoy how cold your water stays because of the temperature of the bladder. Your water will taste fresh and smell pure. Assuming, of course, that you’re filling your bladder with good water.

Sure, you can spend the money on a cleaning kit, but even those aren’t perfect for killing bacteria and don’t ensure that you get all of the water out of the bladder once you’re finished. Plus, they cost money.

You already have a freezer. Storing your bladder in there is free, easy and a way to keep your gear fresh.

You’ll thank us the next time you hit the trail.