Before It's Gone Journey
  • home
    • About Us
    • Contact Us
  • Blogs
    • Himalayan Livin'
    • The B.I.G. Cycle Journey
  • Get Involved!
  • Advice and Reviews
    • Apps

Seeking Seahorses on Koh Seh

12/23/2015

1 Comment

 
Picture
It seems like ages ago that Matt was exchanging bottles of his home brew for donations to the Before It's Gone Journey cause. At the same time, it feels like just yesterday that we hosted a farewell party with a "pop-up thrift store" of our stuff, pledging to set aside proceeds to fund environmental action on our travel. It took us over a year to stumble upon the right opportunity at the right time that was worthy of the generosity sourced from our Naturebridge community, but find it we eventually did. So we'll start this blog off with our appreciation of their sponsorship of our time at Marine Conservation Cambodia.

Last November and December, we took yet another pause in our cycling to spend five weeks volunteering for Marine Conservation Cambodia, based out of an up-and-coming beach resort area called Kep. As the name implies, MCC is a grassroots organization primarily focused on protecting a small section of Cambodia's coast from illegal fishing practices. Trawling in areas shallower than twenty meters, electric-shock fishing, and the collection of organisms with breathing-assistance (i.e. tube fishing) are all highly destructive, short-sighted, yet common harvesting methods that have been banned by Cambodian Fisheries Law. 

The catch (pun intended) is a lack of effective enforcement by Marine Police, who are actually paid off by local and Vietnamese fisherfolk to look the other way. When MCC set up shop just down the beach from a Marine Police outpost on the little island of Koh Seh a couple of years ago, they began picking up the enforcement slack. They conducted their own patrols led by local Khmer staff, confiscating illegal fishing apparatus and chasing boats out of areas that still had enough habitat left for a shot at recovery. This was not without some good ol' Wild West-style drama though. Those rascally Marine Police deployed their firearms (probably for the first time ever) with warning shots intended to scare off the MCC crew, claiming that the illegal boats were "under police protection." That does make for an awkward situation for sharing a tiny island, doesn't it?

Fortunately for the endangered seahorses and other incredible marine creatures not yet scooped up in a trawling net, English ex-pat Paul Ferber, the founder of MCC, is not so easily unsettled from his goal. The rationale for quite literally defending this small triangle in the Gulf of Thailand is to demonstrate that the simple act of enforcement of Cambodia's existing fisheries laws actually created relatively healthy marine ecosystems. And once that happens, everyone will want to have one, ideally spurring the government into nationwide action and thereby saving the future of Cambodia's biodiversity and preserving the livelihoods of small-scale lower-impact fisherfolk.

Of course, all of this silly conservation theory has to be proven effective again and again, and that is where MCC's volunteers come in. By conducting coral reef surveys and collecting data on MCC's flagship seahorse species, the citizen scientists have set a baseline for measuring progress, essentially creating dynamic "before and after pictures" of MCC's enforcement campaign. Monitoring the process of recovery also provides insights as to how quickly specific species recolonize their habitat after it's been decimated, and how successfully certain populations of organisms are able to rebound from human-caused catastrophe. Should this whole enforcement thing catch on in the region, this would be quite a valuable resource to inform other localized restoration efforts and management decisions going forward.

We personally did not get involved in wrangling any fish burglars (so sorry to disappoint you), but we heard that things got a lot more exciting on that front a couple of months after we left! Nonetheless, our experience had many positive aspects combined with some influential challenges that ultimately resulted in a memorable chapter of our journey with a complex aftertaste. That is if chapters had aftertastes. Well, you know what I mean...hopefully. Some examples include:

Shallow Water Diving--It was quite an adjustment to jump in to water that we could almost stand in for the duration of our dives. At times it resembled snorkeling with a scuba tank on. Too deep of a breathe could send you to the surface and a full exhale might have you clunking along the bottom. It was kind of claustrophobic! On the upside, a tank could last all afternoon with no need to conserve, or even check your air supply gauge for that matter. And given that our deepest moments were still above the 15-feet (3-meter) safety stop mark, we could surface as needed for a conversation with our dive buddy when underwater sign language got too confusing. Risk of decompression illness was nil, which made for a low-stress return to diving after my encounter with it a few months prior in Thailand.
seSeagrass is cool, really cool--As we had never spent time diving in the shallows before, this was our introduction to sea grass habitat and the surprisingly diverse collection of species it supports. Sea grass beds don't reveal their secrets easily though. At quick glance, it just appears to be a uniform patch of stubby green blades, kind of like a neglected underwater lawn. This feeling was enhanced by the nearly constant murkiness, the result of suspended sediment in the water from the illegal trawlers churning up the ocean floor just outside MCC's reach of protection. But we learned to appreciate the details while cruising slowly a couple of feet above the grass, and almost each dive revealed something new for us, whether it was the truly insect-like sea moth, adorable crocodile pipefish, or a tiny octopus. And it is only appropriate that these pastures of grass are where the horses of the sea like to hang out!

Spotting the Masters of Camouflage--Finding a sea horse is kind of like an underwater Easter egg hunt, a really hard one, or perhaps a Where's Waldo search if he were sporting a camouflage-printed scuba suit. But the rush of excitement is exactly the same when you do finally lock eyes on one. When Matt and I have dived together previously, I was usually the first one to point out the tiny nudibranchs and tricky scorpionfish. However, at MCC I simply could not spot "my own" sea horse. Once my dive partner (usually Matt but sometimes other volunteers) had already located one, I could hone in on it quickly though. At first, I figured I was just unlucky in that my designated search areas were barren of the sparsely populated critters, but as the weeks dragged on, the statistical odds of that actually being the case went down and down. Finally, it happened! "My" cute little juvenile was too small to be tagged with a non-toxic polymer tattoo for further individual study, but it sure posed for photos nicely so it's smug mug could be added to the citizen science driven database called iSeahorse. And after that encounter, the curse was broken and I began spotting seahorses on almost every dive.
100 dives under our weight belts--Through a combination of sea horse surveys, artificial coral reef maintenance (a.k.a. scrubbing over-abundant algae from rocks), and aimless exploration, we hit the milestone of 100 dives logged. It was only after the fact that we learned from the volunteer coordinator and dive master Amick that we tradition dictates the 100th dive is a naked one. Oh well...Maybe next time! I ended up with a few more dives than Matt overall since he struggled with ear infections for about half of the time we were there, a common ailment when spending so much time equalizing the ears in very warm shallow water that naturally harbors more bacteria.

​Island life--On Koh Seh we lived even more simply than our usual lifestyle while cycle touring. Our bungalow had a cement floor but loosely woven bamboo walls and thatched roof. Showers were of the bucket variety, meaning that we dumped a frugal amount of precious rainwater over our heads. We didn't have to make the typical lengthy decisions about when, where, and what to eat as delicious Khmer meals were provided on a general schedule in an open-sided communal bungalow. A noisy generator provided electricity from dusk to dawn and luxuriously powered a ceiling fan that sort of penetrated the mosquito net we slept under. We could technically connect to the Internet through a distant cellular network, but could rarely load any pages. That was usually just fine with us, as hammocks beckoned and a dip in the ocean was never more than a few steps away. We were close to nature and had no option but to be present in the moment. Except for all those nights we "escaped the island" while watching a movie on our laptop, but I digress. It actually felt unfamiliar to stay in a solid-walled, multi-storied building with running and water and wifi after we left. In fact, in five weeks, we only returned to the mainland for one weekend, so we really got the chance to settle in to the slower, relaxed pace that seems to be an inescapable characteristic of tropical islands.
The sunset ritual--One of my favorite things about the ocean is the sunsets in to it. The MCC base is east-facing, so it had fabulous sunrises that I never saw, save for a few times when I opened my eyes to beautiful colors filtering through the little gaps of our bungalow's woven bamboo wall and promptly fell back asleep, but I don't think that really counts. I don't really like sunrises anyway. Fortunately, it was only a three-minute walk over a minor hill to the other side of the island where a calm, quiet rocky shore provided the perfect place to watch the sunset. With cans of warm Black Panther "Foreign Export Stout" (certainly only distributed domestically) in hand, we made it to that spot every day and took a photo of each sunset, each one with its own mood shaped by the unique combination of meteorological forces at play each day. We usually had the west side of the island to ourselves, except for one constant companion: Jill the Jungle Dog. Part of the daily tradition was bracing ourselves for Jill to come tearing out of the forest for perhaps the most enthusiastic greeting we've ever had from a sweetheart of a canine (and that's saying a lot since I'm not really a dog lover). Due to a serious history of dog drama between MCC's multi-generational family of pit bulls and her, Jill lives a solitary life in the forest with occasional forays to the fringes of the MCC property until the pit bulls pick up her scent. She is free to roam, but I think she does get lonely.
Picture
Jill the Jungle Dog
A week with Liger Learning Center--Liger Learning Center is actually named in honor of Napoleon Dynamite's favorite animal, but that is only the first thing that makes it awesome. With the goal of empowering the most brilliant minds of Cambodia's disadvantaged youth to make a difference in their country, the middle school students learn primarily through implementing projects of their own design. Twelve lovely students and three of their wonderful teachers traveled from Phnom Penh to gain firsthand knowledge of the marine environment and the various threats to it. Many were thrilled to swim and snorkel in the ocean for the first time, but were just as enthusiastic to clean 250 pounds of garbage off the beach or examine algae and seagrass under a microscope. Their visit also served as the basis of submitting a proposal for a year-long project to develop alternative sustainable livelihoods for illegal fishers, one possibility being algae aquaculture. As this was our only exposure to the familiar world of environmental education since we began our travel in Asia, we thoroughly enjoyed interacting with the students and bonding with their American teachers. 
Read more about Liger Learning Center's visit at my guest blog post on MCC's website.
The Shoel (rhymes with stool)--Despite having seen a lot of marine debris--and litter on its way to becoming marine debris--at home and in our travels, it was still shocking to see the sheer volume of plastic products washing up on Koh Seh each day. A large garbage bag could be filled with styrofoam in a matter of minutes. Equally depressing was witnessing the black smoke of that garbage pile as it burned. We removed toxins from the sea in one form only to send them to the atmosphere in another, which of course will eventually fall back in to the sea. It was an unsavory and unhealthy catch-22. Sending the rubbish to the mainland would use additional fossil fuels and once there would also be burned, since Cambodia lacks the infrastructure and/or political willpower to deal with waste management in an organized way. (While cycling around Cambodia, we've smelled enough burning plastic to last a lifetime, or at least shorten it.) But without beach clean ups, the island would literally drown in plastic.

The only partial solution was to find a way to burn less plastic, and the only way to do that was to make the debris useful again. MCC diverts a fraction of the styrofoam infestation by shredding it for bean bag stuffing, but I was interested in the creative potential of all the shoes. Yes, shoes. The perimeter of the island was lined with hundreds upon hundreds of flip flops and sandals. The shoes had captivated the imagination of other volunteers too, ranging from a legendary decorative flip flop tree to an uncomfortable hammock. I opted for something basic but solid--a stool. Constructed of about fifty pieces of rejected footwear, "The Shoel" turned out to be a bit of a commitment by the time we collected, washed, drilled holes, and lashed them together with fishing rope also scavenged from the beach. With the (temporary?) success of The Shoel, I was ready to move on to a whole bench, but unfortunately I procrastinated until too close to our departure for that one.

If you can't stand the smoke, get off of the island--Unfortunately, the previously mentioned beach cleanup rubbish was just one source of smoke to fill our nostrils on Koh Seh. Perhaps the least offensive, but still overpowering, was piles of sea grass burned along the beach often filling up our cabin. The beach collected an unnatural amount of sea grass from the illegal trawlers uprooting it as they dragged their nets attached to heavy apparatus along the sea floor. Apparently, if the sea grass wasn't raked off the beach, it would cause a stinky mess of decomposition and its smoke was rumored to keep the mosquitos at bay. More constant was the cigarette smoke. We were in a small minority of non-smokers on the island, so it seemed that there was always someone puffing away upwind of us, which really limited our desire to be social. 

It's the simple things that make a difference--It was also really disappointing to find cigarette butts everywhere on the ground, even intentionally thrown onto the same beach and in to the same ocean that the people doing it were claiming to be protecting! The glaring hypocrisy really boggled our minds. As volunteers, we were actually paying a good chunk of money to pick up litter mostly created by people who were getting paid to be there. When we chose to collect and weigh the litter on a weekly basis, it ranged from three to seven pounds each time!

While it is normal to see butts and litter everywhere in Asia, we had falsely assumed that things would be different in this microcosm of environmental passion. And that's when we realized how our latent expectations had misled us. At least as of yet, MCC is not a broad marine conservation organization consistently concerned about the dispersed but constant threats of climate change, ocean acidification, bioaccumulation of toxins, marine debris, and so on. It is a marine protection organization focused specifically on the most immediate and direct threat of illegal fishing on local habitats and species. We understand it is a relatively young organization; we get that it is resource-strapped from being solely funded by volunteer fees; we know everything is an uphill battle in Cambodia. But none of that is an obstacle to keeping your toxic butt out of the sea or recycling your beer can instead of trying to burn it. As we see it, if you're going to forcefully stop impoverished fisherfolk from destroying the ocean, then you better being doing everything you can to not contribute to its demise either, especially when a starting point would be simply refraining from eating and drinking out of single-use plastic and styrofoam, as one example.

Since the lack of a general environmental ethic was undermining MCC's victories, at least in our eyes, we introduced a "how to walk our talk" initiative as diplomatically as we could. Staff and volunteers brainstormed ideas and got some of them underway. We fashioned lids on garbage cans to see if that helped with the litter problem. I got a compost system up and running that had fallen by the wayside, diverting a portion of the food waste from being dumped and/or burned. Matt nailed makeshift ashtrays to trees near the hammock hangout spots along the beach, where some but not all butts were then deposited. As it turned out, the containers were too big since folks then quickly filled them with empty beer cans and cigarette packaging. We hope we left some idea of accountability for personal actions and perhaps others will continue where we left off.

Perhaps as the strangest moment in our history of environmental activism, we were particularly proud of getting the momentum going on an "incinerator" as slightly better way to burn garbage. While it would not actually reach true incineration temperatures that would eliminate toxins in the burning material, the hope was it would burn faster and more thoroughly, thus reducing the island residents' overall exposure to the fumes and reducing the quantity of toxic ash that then had to be "disposed of." Paul had made the design, rocks for the walls had been hauled to the site, and the foundation had been laid by the time we left. MCC just needed enough money to buy more cement in order for the project to progress. 
We were happy to offer what we could to Marine Conservation Cambodia and we took away new knowledge and gained new skills. We enjoyed getting to know the multicultural and personality-diverse cast of characters on the island, made up of a constantly shifting collection of volunteers, longterm staff, and their kids. We're grateful to have had the opportunity of an experience different from anything else on our journey, even if it wasn't quite the right fit to settle in to for a longer stay. Never totally confident with how our efforts were being received, we were honored to have some people go out of their way to thank us when it was time to move on. Perhaps the best thank you came from the ocean. On the boat ride back to the mainland, we had our first and only sighting of some of the few dolphins still hanging on in these trouble waters.
1 Comment

May-hem and the Multi-staged Departure

7/6/2014

1 Comment

 
“Sigh...Why can’t we ever do anything simple?” was a sentiment we frequently expressed to each other as we survived the month of May and looked ahead to June. We fully anticipated that the end of our time at NatureBridge in the Marin Headlands would bring on an inevitable flood of transition-related tasks. But we also knew from previous experience that there was not much else we could do except swim hard in order to keep our heads above water.

We kicked off May with a lovely week and a half in Colorado. The first part was attending a Global Explorers staff training in Fort Collins to prepare us for leading expeditions to the Grand Canyon and China this summer. While Casey has led trips for the organization since 2006, Matt now gets to experience firsthand the inspiration of being part of it all as well.

We finished our Colorado trip by renting a house in Winter Park for Matt to celebrate his 40th birthday with some family and friends. Yes, May is “mud season” there, but it was an intentional getaway to somewhere with nothing to do except eat, drink, and be merry in the hot tub even as a late season snowstorm rolled in.

Mid-month, and back in California, we threw a farewell-to-us-while-we-say-goodbye-to-our-stuff party. After some late nights of detailed possession sorting, we set up an indoor yard sale with curated thematic displays and a silent auction for the major pieces of furniture. Matt’s last batch of homebrew, a porter with a hint of chocolate, was on tap and proved as effective as serving complimentary cocktails in a high-end department store in promoting a shopping frenzy. It was a bit bizarre to see people claiming our stuff, dragging furniture out the door, and trying on our clothes, all while simultaneously socializing, but ultimately the event was very successful.  While the profits from our friends' generous shopping spree at our pop-up thrift store have been set aside specifically for the humanitarian and environmental aspects of our travel, we were even more touched by the surprise of a departing gift from our community of an essential modern day adventure storytelling tool: a GoPro camera!

Our last weekends at home were spent wrapped up in a three-day long Wilderness First Responder recertification course, then leading an all-day preparatory retreat in Oakland with the awesome students we will be traveling with in China. The packing was forced in to every spare moment in between our commitments and somehow it all got into the Uhaul trailer by our last day of work on June 10th.

Saying goodbye to our house, work, and community felt very surreal, and difficult to comprehend how six years had flown by since we arrived intending to stay just two. We were both ready and not ready for this moment, but there was really no option to turn back from the multi-staged departure that lay ahead:

Stage One—We drove almost non-stop from California to Colorado, where our dear friends Eric and Julie have generously shared a corner of their basement for our remaining belongings.

Stage Two—We flew to Wisconsin for a wonderful celebration of Grandpa Ivan’s 90th birthday and a fun and festive reunion of the widely-dispersed Fagre clan.

Stage Three—After returning to Colorado briefly, Matt flew to New York to spend time with family and friends while Casey flew to Arizona for an incredible experience rafting in the Grand Canyon with a unique and hilarious bunch of teens. The hike out from Phantom Ranch on the Bright Angel trail made for an epic day on so many levels—the beauty, the challenge, and the compassionate teamwork of the group will never be forgotten!

Stage Four—We reunited in the Marin Headlands once again for a few days of recovery and final preparation based out of our friends Pete and Lauryn’s house. More sorting, final packing, and the real goodbyes. Then, somehow, we were boarding a plane to Beijing and beyond…    
1 Comment

(Sort of) Introducing our C.S.Ale!

4/5/2014

1 Comment

 
Picture
Word-of-mouth is a powerful force. I had visions of a grand unveiling, follow by organized promotion of course, of an idea that had been brewing (pun intended) in our household for quite a while. Once we decided to go for it, I couldn't even type up an email or hand out a flyer in our community before we had neighbors knocking on our door and co-workers approaching us at work, saying "Hey, I heard you were selling your beer?" Turns out my husband has a big mouth. But at least in this case, it has certainly been to our advantage.

Since I never got to do a formal announcement of this aspect of our project before it took on a life of its own, I'll take a moment to explain it now. Since last fall, "MK Brewery" (ie. Matt in our kitchen) has been brewing up a storm for our C.S.Ale, as in Community Supported Ale. With the motto "Be Ale-truistic!", we're setting aside the proceeds of this endeavor to specifically go towards environmental and humanitarian efforts during our journey, whether paying for our volunteer expenses, supplies, or direct donation to an organization. 

While we've invested a good chunk of change in the beer's ingredients (and perhaps enjoyed just a few bottles ourselves...), we're happy to say that we have grossed $618 in "beer-rewarded donations" between November and March thanks to the many thirsty friends in our close-knit community. We're also proud to say we even have a few regular customers--er--donators that come knocking on our door late weekend (and weekday) nights. Our neighbor Kalila commented, "Why didn't you start this years ago? It is so much more convenient that driving to the store!"

Of course we would never dream of doing something so illegal as actually selling beer without a proper license, but we do have plenty left to share with Bay Area folks interested in making a suggested donation. While the oatmeal stout and amber bock are going fast, our favorite is the unique coffee kolsch, inspired by Fate Brewing in Colorado. Stop by and get some, before it's gone. You can feel genuinely ale-truistic about it.

And if beer just isn't your thing, don't worry, there will be other ways to show your support for Before It's Gone Journey down the road! Who knows, maybe I will even get to do a grand unveiling of them...

1 Comment

    Casey and Matt 

    In search of threatened places, cultures, and species…before they're gone.


    Check out our interactive route maps of our journeys in Asia!

    Archives

    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    April 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014

    Categories

    All
    Before It's Gone
    Beijing
    Bhutan
    Cambodia
    China
    Craft Beer
    Culture
    Cycle Tour
    Diving And Snorkeling
    Environment
    Fun
    Fundraising
    Kathmandu
    Kohncation
    Nepal
    Planning
    Random Acts Of Kindness
    Shanghai
    Thailand
    Tibet
    Trekking And Hiking
    Vietnam
    Yunnan Province

    RSS Feed

    Enter your email to be notified of new blog entries:

    Delivered by FeedBurner

    Tweets by @BIGcyclejourney


Instagram
Back to Top
You pass through places and places pass through you, but you carry 'em with you on the souls of your travellin' shoes. --The Be Good Tanyas