Planet Once Blog

Yep folks, dolphins are still being hunted and slaughtered at an alarming rate.  And if that’s not bad enough news already, the manner in which they are killed is nothing short of barbaric.  All this is exposed in a documentary film titled “The Cove“, which I viewed this afternoon at the Melbourne International Film Festival.

I have viewed a considerable amount of documentaries, and many with some sort of socio-econo-ecological agenda, but this is the most powerful film I have ever seen.  Hands down.  It is also, in my opinion, a must see for all people inhabiting this earth.

Why?  Because cetaceans (dolphins and whales) are nearly as socially and logically intelligent, possibly more intelligent, than human beings.  And they are mammals, similar in many respects to homo-sapiens.  They do not deserve a vicious death at the hands of ignorant, uncompassionate fishermen.  Not that any animals deserve inhumane treatment, but I will save the “eating domesticated animals” topic for another discussion.

I am hopeful that this film will draw attention far and wide and spawn a new conservation movement.  It is projects such as this that can effectively communicate ideas in the same forum that is responsible for so much misinformation and disconnection in the world.  Anyone who views the film should do everything in their power to research, discuss, and disseminate the information in the documentary by all means possible, and to all the people in their social and professional networks.

Remember, this is not simply a “save the dolphins” campaign.  The vital health of the entire ocean is being threatened.  Everything we pull from the sea is part of a larger ecological chain.  Consider it to be an environmental Jenga of sorts; pull one or two pieces and everything is ok, pull enough pieces out and eventually the entire structure collapses — game over.  Now imagine if pieces were being replaced as they were being pulled out, this would represent sustainable fishing practices.  And as you could predict, the game could last indefinitely.

This time, after careful email correspondence and coordination, I was able to meet with the volunteer coordinator at the Sea Sheperd Conservation Society office on Brunswick Street.  As I ventured deeper into the inner-workings of the “Kindness House”, I passed small office after office, churning with animal welfare activities.  Pets, especially of the canine order, are welcome and abundant in this building as can be expected in a place where there is a higher concentration of animal rights groups than, arguably, all of the greater Melbourne area.  So, small haphazard work-spaces, motivated and kind-hearted human-beings, high levels of interactive energy, and animals abound, this was my sort of establishment.

I met with Gillian in the Sea Shepherd office about volunteering for what I would consider one of the most proactive environmental groups on the planet.  No kidding.  The T-shirt you receive for signing up lists all of the illegal whaling ships that they have sunk or rammed over the years.  Diplomacy has its bounds for this group of activists — but also note that no one has ever been killed or even seriously injured for the past 30+ years.  Very impressive.

Gillian asked me a series of questions about interests, experience, and my current relocation to Melbourne.  I asked her about upcoming activities, her time with the Sea Shepherd, and if the T-shirts came in a small.  Yes, don’t laugh, I like my shirts form-fitted.  There were some rudimentary forms to be filled out, a membership fee (which I doubled — this is a non-profit), and the aforementioned Q&A.  Simple.

As we chatted, I mentioned my volunteer experience with the “Marine Mammal Center” in California as one of the key factors in my decision to focus on rehabilitating our dying oceans.  Also, that I was looking for a similar opportunity in the greater Melbourne region.  It turned out that the answer was just across the hall… literally.

Gillian introduced me to a member of the organisation “Wildlife Victoria” which is a not for profit and volunteer based organisation that provides a 24 hour, 7 day a week wildlife rescue and information service in the state of Victoria.  It maintains an impressive network of wildlife shelters across Victoria and is the premier wildlife organization in the territory; recognized by the Department of Sustainability and Environment.

I received most of my information from the Manager of Emergency Phone Services, Aisha Reynolds, who was extremely helpful.  She was kind enough to record my information and experience and forward it to many of the local shelters, including the statewide shelter operations director.  Hopefully, I will be able to provide some assistance at one of these locations.  My distance from The Marine Mammal Center has left a small void and I am anxious to fill it with some additional volunteering in wildlife rehabilitation.

I cannot stress the importance of volunteering enough.  We all have some sort of excuse about time, money, or circumstances and the motivation threshold can be difficult to break through; however, I promise the payoff is worth it.  For many years, society has been conditioned to think that money and material items are the key to a good life.  What has been eclipsed in this aggressive media campaign is the simple, pure sense of accomplishment and self-actualization resulting from a good act.  Whether it be with the environment, animals, the elderly, children, developing societies, the disabled, local community politics, or the economically disadvantaged, there is much that can be done in a world so vastly complex.  And everyone has something to contribute.

We are only as good as our experiences and these are the fabric of human intention, spanning generation to generation, and connected at all points.  A valuable experience of mine occurred about 15+ years ago; my recollection goes something like this:

6:53 am.  I make my way to the kitchen down a dimly lit hallway, brushing each wall as I try to wipe the fog out of my eyes.  No one in the kitchen, let alone conscious — it is nearly 7 am — and the only other early-riser in the family is my father; of whom the only remnants of are a half-finished cup of coffee atop a Sunday paper.  I pour a cup of coffee for myself, the pot seemed to be fairly new, and shuffle back to the counter.  Curious about the contents of the paper, I carefully slide the stack my direction, leaving the abandoned cup of joe in its rightful place — sans the newspaper coaster.

As I am about to flip through the stack, I take notice of the top page.  It is an article in the local section about a ninety-year-old woman who has had her front yard ripped up and destroyed by the city for road repairs.  Her sprinkler system is non longer functioning and her garden is withering away.  To add insult to injury, the city will not repair, or cover any repair costs, for the damages.  I continued reading the article, my anger and frustration developing with each sentence.  Internally vowing to raise children that understood the concept of honor and integrity, the extent of my resolve, I finish my coffee to retreat to the garage to complete one of my “technical contraptions”, as my family so lovingly deems them.

About an hour goes by before it dawns on me and my father returns five minutes post acknowledgement.  He has just returned from completely repairing, and improving, the sprinkler system and garden of the elderly woman mentioning in the morning paper.  I look down at my improvements to a small gasoline engine carburetor and suddenly my endeavors seem a bit diluted and, well, meaningless.

Yesterday it all seemed to fall in place.  All of my prior experiences, interests, and contacts seemed relevant and useful and my path became more clear.  For once in my life, it all felt right; not contrived, not scripted, simply natural.  It was the day of my orientation into the Master of Environment program at the University of Melbourne in Australia.

University of Melbourne

The morning began with a roomful of cheerful new postgraduate students and several guest speakers from the Office for Environmental Programs (OEP).  As I approached the room I noticed a small box containing a dish towel and some naturally biodegradable dish soap just outside the door.  I was greeted and handed a reusable cloth bag; contents — introductory paperwork and a small white box (in it was a new OEP commuter mug!).  As I took the bag I asked what the box just outside the door was for and was told it was for washing out commuter mugs — damn, their good…and, damn, I had left my mug at home.  Just inside the door was a small table with a vat of hot water and various teas and, boy, do I love “tea time” in this country.

I proceeded to one of the several tables of four with an open seat — I wasn’t about to pull the antisocial thing and choose an empty table — and introduced myself to the group.  Wow.  The backgrounds and nationalities were so diverse that I felt that I was at a UN Summit.  Finance, Sociology, Education, Biology; Writers, Laborers, Lawyers, Activists, Engineers — this place was full of interdisciplinary talent.  And best of all, we all shared a common passion, to better the world that we live in.

The speakers were top notch.  If all of my professors are of similar character, attending lectures will be something like watching a Planet Earth narrated by Bill Maher.  Everyone was intelligent, lively, and brief — an outstanding model for the American Congress, which, by contrast, is dull and monotonous.  But I won’t digress, another blog post, perhaps.

Each speaker delivered useful information about the department, activities and clubs, and support services.  The most notable was the Postgraduate Environment Network (PEN), which although someone hacked the website and added some profane, yet comical, postings to, seems to be a committed and worthy organization.  So I signed up.

The OEP provided a lunch for us and it was interesting to hear more about the backgrounds and experiences of the other postgrads in the program.  As the director pointed out in his opening address, some were here to become activists, some to become consultants, and others to just learn more about environmental issues.  There were sixty-six of us, representing over thirty countries, joining this semester.

At two o’clock I reported to the OEP office for my advisor meeting.  Everyone was overwhelmed with student advising and so my appointment was delayed about 30 minutes or so.  I decided to hang around the office and get to know the staff.  They were wonderfully social and inviting.  In fact, I had sensed this over two years ago whilst visiting the University on my academic search and it had been one of the deciding factors in my final selection.  So, the time flew past and I was sitting in front of the program director in what seemed like a matter of minutes.

His name was Dr. Simon Batterbury and what an interesting fellow the director was; not to mention highly educated and well experienced in environmental matters.  His work took him all over the world where he was involved in all sorts of sustainable development projects with indigenous people.  We exchanged a few stories, then it was down to business; locking in my subjects for the semester.

Now, the greatest thing about this graduate program, is that it a cross-disciplinary program that allows one to tailor the subjects.  In other words, one may design their own program by selecting classes across many different faculties in the University.  Incredible flexibility; and, anyone that knows me will attest to my distaste for rigidity and absolute structure.

So here is the medley of environmental subjects I chose for the semester:

I explained to Dr. Batterbury what my ultimate goals were for the program (this will soon be released in an abstract of my proposed research topic) — start a non-profit organization, retrofit a ship, begin to clean up the plastic waste in the Pacific Ocean, also know as the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, and publish the work to help inform efforts on a global scale.  Not only will this program allow me to gain specific knowledge applicable to my ultimate goals, but  Dr. Batterbury provided several contacts and links to published work related to my intended course.

Subjects begin next week.  Some I am confident about, others may be a bit of a struggle considering my lack of background.  In any case, I will work hard and strive to gain as much knowledge as possible — for a mind is a terrible thing to waste…

Melbourne is a fine city.  Great people, great parks, and great public transport abound.  But the jewel of the city is an open-air market just north of the CBD (central business district) called Queen Victoria’s Market, or Queen Vic’s for short.

I had received numerous recommendations for this spot, however, never ventured into it on any of my past trips to Melbourne.  Among the screaming vendors, scrambling children, and densely packed rolling carts, I couldn’t help but smile at the greatness of this locale.  Although there were designated food and non-food areas, one could always stumble upon an occasional out-of-place vendor such as a a poultry farmer selling eggs and live chickens amidst racks of chic clothing and shelves of exotic perfumes.

Expect to spend at least half a day here, for the selection of merchandise is quite overwhelming.  I spent perhaps two hours navigating the large open-air aisles merely pricing socks.  Yes, the prices vary and yes, you can bargain with the vendors, which, for better or worse, is one of the attractive features of a public market.

So here is a list of what I received for $20 AUD; please note all produce is organic and locally grown:

Of all these items the wine was the most interesting.  I strolled by a vendor called “Re Wine” and was intrigued by the stacks of large wine barrels and pallets of empty bottles.  Placed at the front of the counter was an information board detailing the operation.  It stated that ReWine sells wine from barrels on site and refills their original containers.  This provides return customers with wine at half the normal price.  Ranging from $4 to $12 AUD, it is quite a bargain, well, at least for wine lovers…I am a beer man myself.  But it gets even better; buy half a dozen or more refills and get an additional 15% discount or buy in bulk containers of 20 litres or more, for home bottling, and get an additional 30% discount.

Above all, the best part is the environmental benefit.  This operation not only cuts down on original packaging and the waste and carbon associated with it, but also reduces the amount of recycled product which also uses carbon.  In fact, every dozen bottles of wine that are refilled will save five kilograms (11 lbs) of carbon emissions.  So, if even one-quarter of the Mebournian population refilled one bottle of wine every other week, rather that buying a new one, it would reduce annual carbon emissions by 10,000,000 kilos or 10,000 metric tonnes.

Re Wine at QVM

So, needless to say, I picked up a bottle as a gift for my sister and her fiancee.  Now if they only had a similar stand for beer…

It turns out my meager living accommodations are just a few blocks from the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society operations office in Melbourne.  If you aren’t familiar with the “Sea Shepherd” I highly recommend reading the book “The Whale Warriors” by Peter Heller.  In fact, just saw a few copies on sale for $6.95 AUD at the local Barnes and Noble — otherwise, picked up my copy in the US for about $15 — well worth it.

Anyways, I decided to check out the office yesterday, get some info and maybe sign up for some work.  After all, as a devout gearhead and labour enthusiast, I couldn’t resist an opportunity to further a good cause with a welding torch, or at least an enthusiastic smile.

The office was located in the suburb of Fitzroy, just to the east of Carlton.  Fitzroy was a lively and eclectic place; from an ex-San Franciscan’s point-of-view, the neighborhood felt like a combination of the Mission District and Haight-Ashbury.  As I strolled along, I witnessed an uncanny sense of collective conscience for the betterment of our known world…that and a putrid smell of incense and cannabis.

Just as I arrived to the multi-storied “Kindness House“, a building housing mainly animal welfare and animal rights groups, I was greeted by a Greenpeace fundraiser — lovingly named Greenpea for sake of anonymity thus forward.  Now for those that don’t know, Greenpeace is the meek, affluent, distant cousin of the Sea Shepherd.  You see, the founder of the Sea Shepherd, Captain Paul Watson, also co-founded Greenpeace back in the 70’s.  And although the two organizations are fighting for the same cause, they have different approaches to furthering their environmental missions.  Aside from hanging banners, ship tagging, and verbal banter from a maritime loudspeaker, Greenpeace does little to engage illegal whaling activities in the Antarctic Region outside of the political realm.  Diplomacy, diplomacy, diplomacy.

Greenpea was only able to muster the words “Hey, are you interested in…” before I made it clear that I was, yes, interested in protecting the environment, but on my way to volunteer with the Sea Shepherd.  We continued a brief, but very informative discussion about the two organizations –which, by the way, are co-located in the same building on the same floor.  Greenpea was half-American and had family in Texas, just outside Austin.  I provided a tip for the upcoming documentary “The Cove” playing this weekend at the Melbourne International Film Festival.  Greenpea wrote it down…that was a good sign of his genuine interest in the planet’s affairs.  We went on to discuss the Sea Shepherd and Greenpeace.  Greenpea was partly for the ramming of illegal ships, just didn’t want to be on the ship personally; and I gave way, only a small bit, to the IWC (International Whaling Commission) discussion of policy as a reasonable strategy.  Hey, don’t get me wrong, Greenpeace is an alright organization, just not my cup of tea.

So we parted company; Greenpea needed to make some money for the cause, and I needed to satisfy my anticipation of signing up for the Sea Shepherd.

Ok, so there I was at the building entry and a bit overwhelmed at the number of organizations residing there; several of which I was anticipating volunteering with over the next year or so.  A one-stop-shop of environmental activism, so to speak.

I entered the building and climbed the stairs to the first level where I was greeted by a locked door and a very informal intercom system — these are not-for-profits, remember.  Fortunately, the lock was about as lax as the intercom system and the door pushed open.  I was standing in a very awkward reception room with several doors to suites on all sides — some open, some shut — and a table with several flyers about environmental matters.  I could hear distant chatter all around me, but in this room I was alone.  Scanning the walls, I noticed a magnetic in-out board with several organizations listed, all with yellow happy-face markers sans Sea Shepherd, which donned its notable black flag emblem which has invoked fear and frustration in Japanese whalers for years.  The other thing setting the marker aside from the rest was its position in the “out” column.  Damn.

I considered it a mistake and exited to the intercom system to ring the Sea Shepherd office.  Once, twice, three times…no answer.  Ok, I’ll try back next week.  On the way out, I noticed a menacing, twisted piece of steel displayed just outside the main doors.  This was the infamous “can opener”, a device used to open up the hull of an illegal whaling ship upon sideswipe, and from the look of it, it had been used a few times.

In route back to Carlton, I passed Greenpea working hard to convince a young girl to contribute to the cause.  We exchanged nods, acknowledging our agreement in principal, but not in action.  I often wonder if individuals work for these organizations because they really strongly believe in the cause or it was the first opportunity for a paycheck out of college.  Oh well, at least people are out there doing it, I suppose.

Here’s the moral of the post — get out there and volunteer, it’s good for the soul.  I promise.