While I was at the Pacific Garbage Patch this summer, the crew found a plastic umbrella handle in one of the nets they were dragging behind the ship. Apparently, umbrella handles are a common type of plastic pollution in the ocean. Captain Moore has a whole collection of umbrella handles he’d collected from various beaches over the years. He said you find so many types of plastic trash on beaches that you have to decide what you’re going to collect. He chose umbrella handles. Still, it baffled me. How did umbrella handles appear out here? Water bottles I understood, but umbrella handles?
Today I got my answer. While on a jog through Brooklyn I saw umbrellas strewn across the wet pavement now that the rain had passed. I saw at least ten broken umbrellas lying on the sidewalks and in the streets. And then I saw a lone umbrella handle less than a foot from a garbage can. The photos above are the two umbrellas. I realize that the wooden handle probably won’t end up in the Pacific Garbage Patch, thus the arrow isn’t intended to be misleading but rather to show a general trend, trash on land = trash in the ocean. The handle may end up in the mass of trash forming in the Sargasso Sea.
Making these connections, now that I’m back on land, is really quite unsettling.
This week my story about the garbage patch (the reason for which I started this blog) and a photo slideshow were published in The New York Times.
It’s been an incredible few days–my inbox has been flooded and I’ve received a flurry of media requests for interviews to reflect on the process of using Spot.us to publish the Times piece. David Cohn wrote a great reflection here and Bill Mitchell of Poynter also wrote an excellent analysis here about how this project came about, what worked and what this means for crowd-sourced journalism.
My favorite response over the past few days came from my 11th grade English teacher Ms. Denis, who tracked me down, eight years after I graduated, to say she was shocked to see my byline in the Times:
Another surprising Facebook message came from a friend from England whom I met while working as a reporter for The Argentimes in Buenos Aires, Argentina last year:
These messages are so rewarding since I never know who’ll read the story or how people will respond. And I was really interested in Megan Garber’s critique in the Columbia Journalism Review saying the the blog was more compelling than the Times story:
I followed the blog as Hoshaw updated it in, pretty much, real time—she connected to the Web via satellite phone—and found it at once educational and enthralling. And now that Hoshaw has returned from her trip, the blog offers a new focus on contextualizing her on-the-sea reporting (November 3: “The Garbage Patch Starts Here”). It’s good stuff. It’s what the Spot.us funders paid for.
I’ve refrained from commenting on Garber’s post to allow people to praise and criticize without feeling like the subject of the piece is breathing down their necks. Though I retweeted some of the Twitter comments which were awesome to read:
I’ve tremendously enjoyed reading all the comments on Garber’s piece—the good and the bad. It reminds me of when I first put up the Spot.us pitch and when the Times’ public editor Clark Hoyt wrote an article about my project. Some people were enthused, others wondered if I was going to be the next Jayson Blair and one person asked whether I even had any photo skills at all. Far from being offended, I was thrilled that people were taking an interest—this is how journalism should work! Journalists should be vetted, as I was. Especially when people are putting up their own money to support a reporter they’ve never met. The criticism made me think seriously about the potential pitfalls of the project and what I could do to avoid them.
For the Times story, I completely understand readers who felt the article fell short—it definitely didn’t have the detail and the human side that the blog did. I wrote what I believed the Times wanted though they never specified the type of article they expected. I under estimated the extent to which people wanted a more human element to the story. But I’m glad this has been brought to my attention, I had no idea the blog would gain the following or the support it has.
So this is what I took away from the CJR discussion, and what I knew instinctively after this project was over: people want to feel connected to the stories they’re reading and the people who write them. It’s not enough to write a standard news story and say, “here read this.” People want to contribute, they want to be part of the process. As Clay Shirky says, “they’re looking for the mouse.” They want the human side of the story, even if it’s about unwrapping rotten tomatoes or hula hooping on the bow of a 50-foot catamaran. The everyday became meaningful because it was real and unedited and honest. Connecting to the readers this way was seamless.
And the most rewarding part of the Spot.us project was getting to meet some of the donors in person before I left, listening to their ideas, writing to them on my blog from the middle of the ocean and emailing them when the story came out to celebrate our success.
I had images of my readers’ faces in my mind while I was at sea and it kept me accountable. These were real people not some unimaginable group called “the public.” I knew their names and I’d met with some of them in person. They were tangible and I thought, “what would Alex think if he knew I blogged on behalf of the ship or that I wasn’t diligent about taking photos at every opportunity?”
The reason, I believe, people were disappointed with the Times piece is that they’ve come to expect more. The blog gave them that. I put out every piece of information I could—everything from drinking hot chocolate on the ship to swimming alongside a 200lb. tangle of rope and fishing line, and people felt connected. After reading about every facet of life on the boat in the middle of the ocean I see that a standard 800 word explanatory article could seem dry and unoriginal. For me, this project just proved that community journalism is not a fad or an experiment, it’s absolutely the future.
After spending a month at the Pacific Garbage Patch I know the unfortunate answer to this question. But that’s only when things go awry. GOOD magazine, Spot.us and iStanford all have answers to where your recycling should end up. Sometimes it gets turned into new products like carpeting, shoes or counter tops. Other times it gets shipped halfway around the world for sale on the commodities market.
Below you’ll find:
1) a photo slide show
2) An info graphic and
3) An audio slide show that attempt to answer the same question
Earlier this year, photographer Mathieu Young posted a photo slide show on GOOD’s website that went behind the scenes at a Materials Recovery Facility or MRF. That’s just a fancy way of saying this is where the materials are sorted before they’re actually recycled. The recycling often takes place at another center.
And Spot.us recently showcased an infographic that diagrams your recyclables’ journey. The funds for this project by Justine Sharrock were all crowd-sourced just as the funds for my garbage patch story were. It’s a very cool visual.
And while at Stanford I produced an audio slide show that also took a look at an MRF facility here in the Bay Area. I interviewed a Stanford student to see if she knew where her recycling ended up–the results were surprising.
While at sea UNC grad student Bonnie Monteleone started collecting trash from the bow of the ship. In ten minutes she’d gather a handful of plastic–and those were just the pieces she could reach.
I decided to copy this method, albeit on land, during my bike ride to the post office. I live exactly 2.4 miles from the Palo Alto post office so I figured I’d see a few things but not many. Palo Alto has a Truman Show kind of feel with manicured lawns and freshly painted houses.
But it seems no city, no matter how polished is free of trash. Here’s what I saw during my ride:
Eventually I had to stop taking photos because I was afraid the post office would be closed by the time I got there! I noticed that a lot of the garbage was from to-go coffee containers.
Does anyone bring their own these days? I started to wonder whether coffee companies promote the byom (bring your own mug) policy where they’ll give you 10 cents back for supplying a cup. It seems that it’s in everyone’s interest–you save money and the company doesn’t have to buy as many cups. This, I decided was worth investigating…
Over the past few days I’ve been alerted to some amazing movies. From dolphin hunting in Japan to garbage collecting in Egypt, I think these films will shock and inspire. Some of them are difficult to locate in theaters since they are small independent films. I advise emailing the distributor or organizing a screening to increase your chances of seeing these incredible films.
Garbage Dreams
Three teenage boys survive by roaming the streets of Cairo and recycling the city’s garbage. Even without modern recycling facilities these street recyclers are diverting 80% of the city’s trash from landfills. But everything changes as globalization sets in and recycling is outsourced to global companies (who will only recycle about 20% of the waste). The community holds meetings about what to do, some propose starting their own organization while others think the global companies will surely wipe them out. A film that debuted at South by Southwest to critical acclaim, this movie will make you rethink the things you throw away.
The Cove
After working with the dolphins who played Flipper in the popular 1960s TV show, animal trainer Ric O’Barry has decided dolphins should no longer be held in captivity. Along with a team of filmmakers, he ventures to Taji, a small fishing village in Japan where dolphins are forced into a cove, captured and shipped to aquariums or killed for meat. The Japanese authorities are none too happy about Barry’s invasion of the area marked “danger keep out” and his crew must devise ingenious ways to document the atrocities. After much lobbying, O’Barry and his team successfully convinced the Tokyo film festival to screen the movie. The Japanese government is outraged at their film, which used illegal methods to get the footage, and a lawsuit may be pending against O’Barry. This eco-thriller is generating enormous buzz and brings light to a previously invisible industry.
New York Times article about The Cove
No Impact Man 
Somewhat in the style of Julie Powell’s “Julie and Julia Project” or A.J. Jacob’s The Know it All, Colin Beavan tries to go an entire year without having any impact on New York city. He and his family get rid of their TV, stop using electricity, don’t buy new products, eat local and don’t use any form of transportation for an entire year. The result? An inspiring tale of a family that is healthier and more connected than ever before. The movie is based on his blog of the same name and last week the Huffington Post hosted No Impact week to get people to try out the minimalist lifestyle themselves.
Review of the movie from Variety
What happens when you save all of your trash for an entire year? You make the front page of The New York Times. Freelance cameraman Dave Chameides decided to save his trash for an entire year in an effort to see how much waste he produced.
Photo from The New york Times
Why do I bring this up? I had the chance to meet with Chameides on Wednesday while in L.A. I’d written part of my master’s thesis on Chameides’ work as a new media activist* so I was anxious to meet in person. We grabbed lunch at a bar in Hollywood, before heading over to Shalhevet K-12 day school where he asked me to speak to his students about the garbage patch.
I say his students because he is sort of a visiting scholar at the school. He has his own office and even though they don’t pay him he’s heavily involved in getting the kids to be environmentally aware.
He posted a map outside his office that shows where the school gets their energy and how some of those companies are tied to mountain top removal in other states. He’s given lectures on campus and encourages the students to write letters to their representatives to enact change. His students call him Sustainable Chameides, as indicated by a small piece of paper taped to a blank wall outside his office.
So I showed up to the school with a bag full of debris from the Pacific Ocean and a water sample the Algalita crew had graciously given me. Inside the jar were tiny pieces of plastic floating in the water along with rope, a toothbrush and the top of a water bottle. I talked to a 6th and 12th grade class with notably different results. The 6th graders were more wowed by the fact that I’d been on a boat in the middle of the ocean than by the fact that I’d witnessed a floating plastic vortex.
The high schoolers in the ecology class were much more receptive and had great questions like, “if a lot of the trash is coming from Asia why aren’t you speaking to them?” or “why should we care?” In answer to those questions I’d say a) money and b) because it affects what you eat and is killing marine life.
I like to think that the 20-minute presentation I gave had some impact but Dave is doing the real legwork at this school. He works at the school without getting paid and he said he’s there as often as possible when he’s not filming. His effort to get kids to think about their affect on the planet is wonderful and innovative. He’s trying to get the students to use stainless steel water bottles and as he ushered me down the hall he nonchalantly reached into an empty bathroom and switched off the light. It’s these little things that will make all the difference.
* Dave writes articles for Care2.com and maintains his own site 365daysoftrash, which emerged out of his one-year experiment.
As quickly as it started, the garbage patch voyage draws to a close. On Tuesday October 6th we arrived in Long Beach. Bill, Bonnie, Jeff and I stood on the bow as we neared the dock, and what sight greeted our eyes but hundreds of pieces of plastic? We watched plastic water bottles, a Capri Sun container, an empty bag of potato chips and a plastic shopping bag float beneath the ship.
Bill and Jeff stared out quietly at the trash and then agreed that trying to curb the amount of debris going out to the garbage patch seems near impossible if we can’t even keep our own coastlines clean.
As we pulled up to the dock Marieta Francis, Jeanne Gallagher and Holly Gray of Algalita greeted us. As did Jeff Ernst’s parents. We spent the morning cleaning off the ship and displaying all of the debris on long wooden tables on the dock. People were stunned by the sheer amount of garbage—the 100-pound tangle of net and rope was enough to surprise anyone.
Throughout the day I helped Moore make sushi from the fresh yellow fin tuna we’d caught a few days earlier. At 4pm we were ushered off the boat by Marieta so we could take photos and cut the cake.
The enormous welcome home cake was designed to look like the Pacific Ocean with the Alguita sailing across. “And this is the garbage patch!” Moore declared as he took a knife and drew an enormous circle in the middle of the ocean.
During the party I got to meet previous crewmembers aboard the Alguita and we shared stories about life at sea. As the party died down it was time to return to the “real world” and I’ve been here in Los Angeles since then.
So even as this journey draws to a close, there will be others and I’ve decided to use the blog to write about the next adventure. Stay tuned….
Post Script—
Bonnie asked me during our first day back what was most memorable about the trip. It took me awhile to think of an answer. Almost everyone else had an instant response.
But when I think about all the things we did out there—picking up debris, cutting open fish stomachs and catching Mahi Mahi—it has nothing to do with the garbage or the marine life.
At night, during my watches, I’d sit at the helm and look through the open hatch above my head at millions of stars. The sound of the waves against the ship and the sight of the sails above my head were incredible. There was a sense of peace I’ve never experienced before.
One night on the bow Moore said he wished more people would come out here. He talked about how beautiful it is and that people tend to “preserve what they love.” I couldn’t agree more.
Today around 5pm we docked at Catalina Island and we were all, needless to say, ecstatic! The site of dry land brought a smile to my face and after three days of cloudy weather we spent nearly the entire day on the bow in the sun.
After we anchored, we stepped on solid ground for the first time and I nearly fell over from “dock rock.” Apparently there’s a condition that causes you to feel like you’re swaying back and forth after being at sea for a while. Something to do with your inner ear, which controls your sense of equilibrium. All through dinner I had to make sure not to stand up too quickly, and I was told that standing in a small bathroom can be a particularly disorienting experience.
Photos by Bonnie Monteleone
After stumbling onto the island, we grabbed dinner at The Lobster Trap and met two of Captain Moore’s fans! Two blonde girl scouts came up and asked if we wanted to buy Girl Scout nuts. Now first of all, have I been at sea for so long that Girl Scouts no longer sell cookies? In any case, Bill bought some nuts from one of the girls-six-year-old Faith, and she and her friend both asked for Moore’s autograph on a couple of napkins.
They were so excited to hear about the journey and thanked him repeatedly before leaving the restaurant with their parents. It’s amazing that he encounters fans nearly every where he goes.
We’re now back on the ship, Bonnie, Jeff and I holed up in the galley working on our blogs while sorting through photos.
Tonight we’ll sleep on the ship, which is docked outside Catalina and tomorrow we’ll head to Long Beach for the last hurrah. It’s been an unbelievable trip and something that Bonnie recently said struck me.
Photo by Bonnie Monteleone
She said during one day of sampling, the sight of all that plastic make her feel sick to her stomach, like she was nauseous. “It was a sad awakening,” she said. She wanted one sample, just one to come back free of plastic, but that never happened. Each sample had more plastic than the last. The sight of all that plastic made her queasy and the tragedy of it all, she said, made her realize exactly what we’ve done to the ocean.
On Saturday, Captain Moore and Jeff cooked up a feast-a roasted chicken stuffed with garlic and onions, baked purple yams mixed with coconut butter, green beans and acorn squash with honey and butter.
It was cold and gray outside and we’ve all begun to get a bit restless. I used to get “exercise” by walking around the ship a few times, but the seas are so rough, it’s impossible to do without getting soaked.
So the dinner was a perfect end to a long week. After dinner Jeff whipped up a huge pot of Mexican hot chocolate and Moore pulled out his Bedside Book of Sea Stories. With Bill at the helm, Jeff, Bonnie and I gathered around the kitchen table where Moore leafed through the yellowing pages.
With all the lights off and only the sound of the waves crashing against the ship he told us the story of “Three Skeleton Key,” making sure to change voices with each new character. The story revealed the fate of three lighthouse guards after they’d been ambushed by a swarm of hungry rats. Luckily, (spoiler alert) the narrator survives the attack.
After Moore went to bed, Bill, Bonnie, Jeff and I stayed awake savoring our hot chocolate and enjoying the lingering effects of the story. And then, of course, Bonnie and I were back working on our respective blogs.
We only have one full day left on the ship and there’s so much left to do and write about. We’re expecting to dock at Catalina Island tomorrow afternoon before stretching our legs and maybe grabbing our first dinner back on dry land.
On Tuesday morning we’ll make the final trek back to Long Beach and have a welcome back party at Algalita’s headquarters on Tuesday afternoon. If you’re reading this and are in the L.A. area I hope we see you there.
For the past three days we’ve caught Mahi Mahi every morning. And we’ve been graced by the presence of several squid, which have jumped on board, that we’ve conveniently used as bait. It seems they jump on board to escape predators, though they don’t know their fate may be even worse when they hop on this boat.
I’ve never seen a squid up close-I figure battered and fried squid don’t count-but they’re pretty awesome looking. They’re sort of transparent and the ones we catch have purple flecks covering their bodies.
Once they’ve been sacrificed to the Mahi Mahi and the fish has been reeled in, Jeff and Moore take turns trying to coax Mahi toward death (this sounds much more pleasant than it actually is). Killing a Mahi Mahi, at least on this ship, usually means bludgeoning it with a baseball bat or driving a large knife into its head to cut a major artery. I’ve been told this is more humane than simply letting it suffocate. As a native Arizonian who grew up eating quail eggs and cactus, I know little when it comes to killing fish.
Due to the abundance of Mahi Mahi I’ve now eaten this fish more ways than ever imaginable-fried Mahi, raw Mahi, sautéed Mahi for fish tacos, boiled Mahi for Chinese food, fried Mahi wrapped in bacon and smothered with cheese. I feel like Bubba from Forest Gump who talks about “coconut shrimp, bbq shrimp, shrimp gumbo, fried shrimp…”
But as I type this, the smell of chocolate drifts through the air. It seems Jeff has decided to make hot chocolate while Bonnie and I work on our blogs and Bill sits at the helm. I can think of nothing better to take my mind of Mahi than melted chocolate on a cloudy day.
