Tag: sea turtles

Standing Up to a Big Blow–Lesson in Life from My SUP Board

Standing Up to a Big Blow–Lesson in Life from My SUP Board

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Yesterday morning started with a visit to Gulf State Park before the sun peeked above the horizon. I arrived early for my first sea turtle volunteer patrol walk because I wanted to take a few photographs before meeting my walking partners. It was serene and lovely and the Gulf of Mexico was gently rolling like it sometimes does. No shore birds were out yet so the only sound I heard was the shuuusshing of sand and water and shells tumbling together.

I met my walking partners and we headed out for our walk to the Gulf Shores Public Beach. We immediately met a group of giggly young folks drinking beer and smoking….yes….before sunrise. We had been warned that we might see left-over partiers from the pre-Hangout Music Festival day. And it only got worse as we neared the music festival staging area. Never mind sea turtle crawls…we were busy dodging condoms floating in the tidal pools, beer cans, liquor bottles, articles of clothing, half-burned cigarettes…not the usual sight on these white sand beaches.

The once ‘public beach’ was fenced off so as to not allow the public inside. Or sea turtles that might not have received the press package about the festival and thus altered their egg-laying plans. We carefully watched for sea turtle tracks as we tiptoed through all manner of human nastiness. Almost two years ago I was tiptoeing through volatile crude oil on the beach but today I felt volatile. A few days earlier the City of Gulf Shores bulldozed sand dunes with sea oats growing on them to make way for this parade of the worst of humanity. If you or I had picked a sea oat on our own property we’d be ticketed. If we had bulldozed a dune full of sea oats we might be in jail. I guess it just depends on who you are and who you know and how much you pay the right people. I don’t know what to think after witnessing this and hearing loud diesel generators and buses running non-stop. Talk about your green festivals!

After completing the turtle nest patrol I walked in the opposite direction, into Gulf State Park. Shores mostly untouched by development called to me as I walked in the soft, cool sand. I reflected back to when I worked in the park as naturalist–over 30 years ago–and the frustration I felt by the encroaching development and the political demands placed on the resources within the park. I remembered something I wrote in my first book, Sharks On My Fin Tips: “I left the Gulf Coast many years ago feeling hopeless in my efforts to help the land amid hungry developers yet on that day (a visit after Hurricane Ivan) I felt a renewed sense of commitment. I could use a tool that might truly make a difference–my words.” (p. 11).

Another quote from the book also haunted me as I walked back to my car, “Did I abandon this land when I left it many years ago? Had I left home, in the truest sense of the word?”

This morning I needed to be on salt water, away from the crowds and connected with the elements to ponder the questions that were raised within me yesterday. I am not a grouchy, un-musical person. I love music and play piano, guitar, flute, drums….it’s part of me. But profit at any cost? Had I left 21 years ago and returned to find that profit and money–greed–were still the determining factors along the coast? The dune is in the way….just bulldoze it. Never mind that it’s against the law! And fence off the public beach and don’t allow people to visit it unless they pay the $150+ to attend the festival. Does anyone else feel frustrated at this kind of behavior? These double-standards? This profit-at-any-cost mentality?

So…..I drove to Johnson Beach, part of the Gulf Islands National Seashore. After showing my annual pass and I.D. I drove to a boardwalk and couldn’t help noticing that both the Gulf and Sound were very much affected by the strong and steady ESE winds. Oops…so much for a calm, contemplative morning.

After unloading my board and gear, I walked to the Sound and was nearly knocked off my SUP board as soon as I stood up. The wind was really kicking. Rather than paddle against it with no warm-up, I decided to just do a downwind paddle and then deal with the paddle back after my body was ready for the assault of wind against woman.

The downwind run was screaming. I was flying and my thoughts were far from the anger and frustration of the previous day. Concentrating on staying balanced with a wicked back and cross-wind was my only focus. In 15 minutes I covered an amazing distance. How awesome that I’d get to paddle against that crazy blow to get back to my take-out point. Honestly, that’s not what I was thinking.

As soon as I came out of the calm canal I had drifted into and faced the wind, it caught my body and tried to push me back into the serene water. Who wouldn’t like that? But I really wanted to get back to my car. The breeze (ha…breeze) was so strong that I dropped to my knees. That helped but I was still making little progress. Finally, I sat back on my heels and finally my blade starting generating forward motion.

Being in this prayer position, I decided to say a prayer to gain understanding about the struggles I was having emotionally from yesterday’s experiences. I started thinking about the land and water and wildlife still being exploited for human greed. I felt weary of the entire human-dumb-ass behaviors which was exacerbated by the weariness I began to feel as I paddled into the wind. As I struggled to paddle, I thought how 30 years ago I struggled to make a difference along the coast. How I’d given up and let the ‘human wind of development’ push me away and relinquish my dream to help people appreciate and care for this beautiful place. It was relatively easy to just let go and forget the developers and others who always put wildlife and the Earth last–dead last. I let myself go into ecological numbness. I didn’t know how to deal with the grief about the planet so I just shut down.

But that oil spill…remember THAT oil spill? It’s what called me home.

It’s not easy standing up against strong forces that want to push over everything in their path to make a buck. It’s sometimes almost impossible to stand and fight greedy humans. So maybe I can alter my approach and drop lower and catch less ‘wind’ but still keep going, keep going forward. Or maybe I might have to crawl a while and make seemingly little progress like I did at Johnson Beach when I sat on the back of my board in shallow water and used my toes to crawl along the bottom as I rested my arms and shoulders. The key is to keep moving and keep working to spread the beauty of this place and speak up against those who truly do not care for anything but money and power. They will fall…eventually. Nature is more powerful. Ask Hurricane Ivan. Or Katrina. Humans have no power compared to the power of nature. Okay….I understand, I thought.

I got back to my take-out point and sat on my board for a long time contemplating life….watching the endangered Least Tern feeding just a few feet from my board, wondering if they knew they were endangered (no…of course not) and thinking how they go on regardless and continue to live and enjoy life. I watched families playing along the water’s edge and Great Blue Herons waiting for fishermen and women to reel in their breakfast. I realized, in those long, blissful moments spent bobbing up and down on my board, that I don’t have to stand up to power and money-hungry humans alone. Many of us feel the same way. We can proceed little by little to speak out, write, work…whatever we have to do…to save this amazing place from annihilation at the hands of those who fail to understand and appreciate the treasure it is…just for the beauty and life it contains. Not because it can generate a profit.

Stand Up 4 The Gulf…something you might find interesting and might like to help build!

The Right Place

The Right Place

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As a lover of the ocean and all wildlife therein and especially a lover of sea turtles, you might imagine how excited I was to complete the volunteer training to become a Share the Beach sea turtle volunteer. I had fantasies of walking the undeveloped beach at Gulf State Park and finding turtle tracks that would lead to a nests full of beautiful baby sea turtles as the sun rose each morning I worked.

But at the training I made this heart-felt commitment: Please use me wherever you need me. Any beach is fine. I am willing to go where I am most needed.

Still maintaining my pristine beach dream of sunrise bliss and later watching hatchlings crawl from the safety of the nest, down the trench I helped dig to the Gulf where they would swim into the moonlit ocean, I anxiously awaited the call to find out when I could begin. I was already giddy at the thought of all of this ‘nature’ filling my mornings and evenings.

My team leader contacted me this past weekend and I found out I was assigned to the stretch of beach from the city beaches to the state park. Condos, hotels, left-over trash from parties that isn’t cleaned up until sunrise…. I was bummed at first but my team leader was excited. “Nobody ever wants to work this beach.” So I knew that this beach was exactly where I need to be.

I supposed we all want the volunteer assignments that are beautiful and inspire us and thrill us with natural wonder. But the places that are most wounded, most trashed by drunk tourists, and the most over-developed places….those places need us. Specifically the mother loggerheads who come back to their home shore to lay their nests–not knowing it is now covered with beer cans or that concrete has become the new dune line since she was born there–need the help of people willing to walk among the garbage to save her tiny, precious eggs–some of the most endangered animals in the Gulf.

I now understand that sometimes the path put before me isn’t always one of easily-perceived beauty. My task is to find beauty where others don’t want to look and share it.

Where are you willing to serve–to help people, wildlife, wild places, domestic animals? How can you add your energy to making a positive difference in your community? If our world is going to change for the better it is going to take every one of us to make it happen.

Passion to Proceed

Passion to Proceed

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I am sitting at the counter at my mom’s kitchen gazing out at Mobile Bay. Just a pause before writing.

I’m presenting a program at Gulf Shores Library tomorrow morning and was reviewing my A/V presentations to see which one I’ll use. In reviewing my library of programs one I put together showing the worst part of the oil spill at the Gulf Shores, Alabama area caught my attention. Tears poured down my face as I watched and recalled vividly the heartbreak experienced by so many of us that love this area. And then I felt a surge of passion and love for the Gulf Coast that caused a transcendent moment to spontaneously occur within me. It provided an amazing moment of clarity that sealed the deal, so to speak, for my move back to the Gulf Coast.

Over a decade ago I felt called to return to the Gulf Coast to work but as I stood on the shore with warm, salty waters lapping over my toes, I heard in my mind…’Not yet…but you will know when to return.’

When the oil spill first happened and very often for 18 months, I made the trip from Asheville, NC to coastal Alabama to document…to WITNESS what what happening here. I felt the call to return but I didn’t expect to move back. Little-by-little, however, I felt that this was the big leap needed to fulfill a promise I made to the Gulf those many years ago.

A few months ago I put my mountain home ‘on the market’ and waited. Within these past two weeks everything has begun to come together. Two incredible people have connected with “The Cathedral of Trees” and immediately understood the power of the home and land I have been blessed to call home for over five years. They decided to become the new owners of this special place. And just yesterday, I finalized a contract on a nice cottage home near the Magnolia River that will nurture me and my work as I leap back to the headwaters of my life. The place of my birth.

With every major change in life there comes anxiety and fear and those emotions were doing their best to rattle me. But when I reconnected with the immense love and passion I have for the earth, specifically this area of amazing beauty…my coastal Alabama home…all doubt was erased and the anxiety and fear begin to diminish.

I have dedicated my life to help our beautiful water planet. How thrilled I am to feel doors opening so that I can continue my work here, in this sacred place. There’s a song that has been my theme for this next stage of my life as it unfolds…Homeward Bound….”Set me free to find my calling and I’ll return to you somehow.” My heart is very, very full and I am so grateful.

Salt Report–Gulf Coast August 2011

Salt Report–Gulf Coast August 2011

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As I was driving back from paddling the Gulf of Mexico and the Sound at Johnson Beach this morning, I noticed I felt out of place off the water. This visit to the Gulf Coast has included many hours on the water. The 100 feet of land between me and Bon Secour Bay seems far too big as I sit and compose this report.

First, to those of you inquiring about specific areas and concerns. Fort Morgan beaches have small tar balls washing in with the surf. The sand on the Gulf side has built-up considerably this summer so I am not sure if the small tar balls covering the beach in April were picked up by clean-up workers or covered by the natural migration of the sand. The point at Ft. Morgan, where Mobile Bay and the Gulf of Mexico come together, has eroded significantly. The old fuel tank that was far up on the big dune (deposited most likely by a hurricane or other wave-producing storm) is now almost to the water line. It appears ready to launch its rusty-self back into the saltwater.

I wish I had better news to report from Bon Secour National Wildlife Refuge. The beaches there are littered with hundreds of dead blue crabs. They are in various stages of decay from newly dead to bleached white from sun exposure. There were small tar balls rolling in the surf and tractors doing a surface cleaning of the sand on the mid-beach. The sand is stained there from oil, far up on the beach. The huge oily shelf was not visible. It could have been removed or covered by sand. Summer season is the time sand builds up on the beaches. We’ll know more when winter arrives and the sand shifts or a hurricane or tropical storm attacks the beach with large waves.

From the beginning of the oil spill, when they sprayed dispersant to sink the oil, we knew that bottom dwellers were going to suffer the most. Crabs, sting rays and other marine life that made a home on the bottom, would tell the real story. Seeing one or two crabs is not unusual. Seeing hundreds of dead crabs washing in where the beaches were so heavily oiled and where a large mat of oil sank just offshore, causes grave concern for this microcosm in the Gulf. I saw more than one dead sting ray on this visit.

And even though carcasses of crabs were everywhere at the beach, Great Blue Herons were enjoying the opportunity to find easy food sources. Unfortunately, if the crabs died of toxins associated with the spill, the herons will eventually be negatively affected as well. And that’s part of the frustration when I read in the local newspaper that ‘sea life is thriving.’ Nobody fished, shrimped or oystered last summer due to the spill. There was far fewer taken than usual. The harvests are big this year. But it takes at least three years for a species to tell their story of exposure and recovery to toxins such as crude oil.

Before the Exxon Valdese oil spill in Alaska, Pacific Herring populations were increasing in record numbers. In the year of the spill, egg mortalities and larval deformities were documented but the population effects of the spill were not established. Four years after the spill a dramatic collapse in the Pacific Herring population occurred and it has never rebounded.

How can ANYBODY hazard a guess as to how marine life in the Gulf will respond to oil and dispersants? To say that ‘all is well’ is absolutely irresponsible. We really don’t know what the long-term effects will be and we won’t know for at least three more years.

All areas I visited did not show such troubling signs. Ft. Pickens and Johnson Beach, both part of the Gulf Islands National Seashore in Florida, look really good. Although there are still small tar balls washing up, there was not dead marine creatures washed up like at BSNWR.

My early-morning SUP trips on Bon Secour Bay and Weeks Bay showed seemingly abundant marine life: shrimp jumped in front of my board, mullet leapt toward waiting mouths of brown pelicans, sea gulls and terns flew behind shrimp boats, waiting to eat their fill of discarded fish that would be thrown back into the water. It was encouraging and wonderful to experience.

My visit to the grass beds at Johnson Beach was also encouraging. I saw large schools of small fish, blue crabs, sting rays and large fish hunting in these nursery beds of the Gulf. And even the paddle in the Gulf was encouraging. I saw six bottlenose dolphin, large schools of sting rays and other small fish. I did, however, also see what appeared to be patches of sunken oil just offshore (probably the source of the tar balls). So yes, it does look better and unfortunately, we have to look deeper than appearances to begin to understand the impact of such an event.

For me or anyone to form a conclusion that everything is okay would be naive. I understand BP wants the world to know that there are fish and shrimp and dolphins still here. The Gulf Shores area had the best tourist season EVER this summer (according to many sources down here) and I understand that merchants don’t want a ‘gloom and doom’ prognosis about the Gulf waters or marine life. I get all that. But to ‘wish away’ the snapper covered in curious lesions and ‘cancers,’ ignore the hundreds of dead crabs washing up, or forget that dolphins found dead this spring have now been linked to the crude oil from MC252…..

Here’s a fact I’ll bet you haven’t read in the papers or seen on the news: Dauphin Island Sea Lab tests have shown a higher level of dispersant chemical than oil chemical in recent tests of salt marsh near Dauphin Island (reported to me by a worker there). Go back and read that sentence again. I really want you to take that in. And now….the questions begin.

Who do you think needs to answer questions about the high levels of dispersant? What about the new oil surfacing on MC252 now? Who can we trust to find out the real truth? These are questions we need to answer….and soon. I’d like to hear from you.

Salt Water and Blue Sky–Balance

Salt Water and Blue Sky–Balance

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This past week I set an intention of reconnecting with the Gulf Coast by seeking the positive, the good, the beauty here. For over a year I regularly visited seven beaches that had been affected by the BP Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill. I needed to turn a corner in my work and embrace the beauty of the coast and the amazing ability of nature to recover from such a devastating environmental disaster.

I needed to shift my perspective and look for the positive signs of recovery while being mindful of the ongoing struggle some areas, animals and people still face on a daily basis. Last year I had little hope any marine animals, sea creatures or birdlife around the area would survive. To date, 22 sea turtle nests have been documented on Alabama beaches. Today I witnessed many osprey with young on their nests and other shorebirds that successfully raised chicks this year. In fact, I saw a baby tern hopping on the sand with his parents at Gulf Islands National Seashore and the sight of it brought back powerful memories for me.

Last year at this time I was sitting on the beach taking a break from photographing oiled beaches and saw this baby tern and baby. It gave me hope amidst much destruction. Today I was reminded, by another baby tern, that life indeed is making a tremendous effort to survive the toxic environment created by last year’s oil spill.

Over the past week I have spent hours on the water–paddling, drifting, offering prayers of gratitude for the magnificent beauty of the water, its creatures, the clear sky, the white sand. Last year I was afraid to touch the water, much less paddle out and allow it to wash over me. This shift in perspective has helped me balance grief and sadness and embrace the elements that make this area so special, so amazing.

It’s easy to get stuck in the negative spin and only see the bad. Or sometimes turn our attention away from ‘bad’ things happening to the planet and pretend they are not occurring. We must, however, find a way to be aware of what is happening environmentally, and keep a balanced perspective by looking at both the triumphs and challenges our Earth faces, that we face.

One way we can achieve this balance is by connecting with nature on a regular basis and allowing it to share the wisdom it has to impart.