The Garbage Patch: Oceans and Marine Debris

I was born in midwest but have lived less than 200 yards from the ocean for the last 30 years. I have made a few excursions away.... the cloud forest of Costa Rica, the asphalt desert of Arizona, the Cascades of southern Oregon, but seldom for long and usually not by choice. Here in Southeast Alaska, salt water becomes infused in your blood. Tide books litter the glove box of your truck. Rubber boots are the footwear of choice. Understanding the local cycles of the sea are the key to understanding the impending weather, the flow of the tides, the success of a fishing trip, the amount of fuel needed to reach a destination, where and how to anchor your boat... crucial knowledge that might mean the difference between having fish for dinner or just being thankful to make it home. One of the more engaging pastimes on our rocky coast is beach combing. In my younger days I was thrilled to find chunks long line, crab buoys, and the grand prize, floating glass ball from Japan. But over the last decade, I have come to view these abandoned treasures in a completely different light. That was when I first learned the word “Ocean Gyre”. This was to change my perspective on beach combing forever.



Ocean gyres are large, powerful, circular currents of water formed primarily by atmospheric wind patterns. Combined with the corialis effect, they form great, slow moving whirlpools in the middle of the ocean. In Alaska, the prevailing wind pattern blows in a southwesterly direction. The major currents of the Gulf of Alaska flow counter clockwise, forming a small gyre of its own. But as it makes it’s loop on the southern edge, it interacts with a much larger gyre, the North Pacific Gyre. Here is where most of the flotsam and jetsam of our civilization end up. Billions of pieces of plastic waste from bottles, bags, fishing gear, and other “disposable” items break down into small floating chunks and circulate slowly around to the gyre’s center. Exposed to sunlight and the action of waves, much of this plastic breaks down into small chunks and microscopic pieces. These pieces are then ingested by marine organism and then bioaccumulate through the food chain. Some forms of plastic do break down completely in a short time but this is not actually good news because they release toxins that are be quite harmful to the ocean ecosystem.



This floating plastic “raft” of is toxins is invisible to satellite imagery as it lays just under the surface of the ocean. Scientist have no idea how long it will take these plastic to completely break down. The article here from National Geographic explains more. Studies indicate that clean up is nearly impossible given the location and size of the junk gyres. Even if some form of a surface trawl could be devised to skim the plastic up, the amount of zooplankton by-catch would be devastating to the marine ecosystem. It is a problem that most people are completely unaware of, a problem with severe consequences, and a problem with no solution.

http://www.good.is/post/transparency-the-great-pacific-garbage-patch


In the introduction to this unit we revisited the importance of the connections on our planet and the lack of knowledge we have relating to our environment. To use a somewhat cliched metaphor, the ocean is the the blood of the planet. It is an intricate and amazing arrangement designed to nurture all of the systems that provide, directly and indirectly for our sustenance. In May of each year, when the days are long, the tides are big, and the weather might be nice, we take a full week in each and every grade in our school to do nothing but study the sea. Our hope is that we make sure these connections to the ocean remain strong, both spiritually and intellectually. in the end, they will be the ones who to solve the dilemma of the "Garbage Patch”.

A Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin On

The Christmas Day tsunami that destroyed parts of Thailand and Banda Aceh were landmark events in that they were the first major wave disasters of the digital age. Near instant footage of the devastation and even of the actual events were viewed by millions of people. The word tsunami, once just in the vocabulary of ocean dwellers, was now understood by many. This is in contrast to a summer day in 1985 when there was a minor earth quake off the coast near Sitka. It happened around mid-day and our town leaders here in Petersburg decided to evacuate to high ground as a precaution. I remember walking as a group with my coworkers to the high school, which is located on a bit of a hill. One of them, new to Alaska and swept up in the excitement of the moment, finally mustered up the courage to quietly ask me “What’s a tsunami?”

The story of Lituya Bay is one almost every fisherman knows. Anyone who has been in a boat, large or small, on the ocean knows the unforgivingness of waves. We’ve all had that apocalyptic vision of somehow riding out the big one. Petersburg has it’s own version of the Lituya Bay story. Tlingit people tell the story of a village being destroyed by a killer wave prior to European exploration in Alaska. I have not seen his story in print, however, Sealaska (the Native corporation) just selected this area, Bock Bight as one of historical significance. From the Google photo you can see remnants of recent slides coming of the mainland mountains.

Close to home, we have another scenario that reminds us of the past. It is about 5 miles across from Horn Cliffs to Petersburg. There, the steep cliff face of the mountains rise up to an elevation of over 2500 feet while plummeting nearly straight down another thousand feet below the water surface.






Tsunamis can reach up to 400 miles per hour in the open ocean. That means a tsunami generated from a large landslide associated with an earthquake event would could reach Petersburg in under a minute. Historically, these lands are not as prone to landslide as further north in Thomas Bay. Also of significance is the fact that the closest plate boundary is about 100 mile away, offshore. However, the steep face, deep water, and short distance to town still make one take pause. (check out www.scribblemaps.com for tools to write on maps and photos)

Alaska Earthquake Information Center has a great site located here. They also have very detailed tsunami info/videos, including this great poster, located here (excellent tsunami videos).

This was a particularly fun module explore. Humans are in awe of natural cataclysmic events and the richness of resources available on the internet allow any teacher to make earth science fascinating to students. The ability to see detailed landscape on Google Earth and track real-time data increase the understanding and relevancy to the learner. The TD video “Living on the Coast” is a great model for students comparing and contrasting the natural history of two or more “coastal communities” with the end result of having a better understanding of both their own "home" and our "home", Earth.

Water and Ice

Petersburg is in the middle of the Alexander Achipelago. It is best experienced from the water but it’s origins are best observed from the air. The interconnected events of plate tectonics, volcanic activity, and glaciation are working in tandem with the weather cycle to create a water generating machine. The most prominent aspect of the landscape is the the Coast Range Mountains. The steep mountains pushed up from the collision of plates form a barrier to air currents as they move in from the west. Clouds laden with moisture from the warm Pacific currents hit the coast range and dump huge amounts of snow. The result is the Stikine Icefields and numerous advancing and retreating glaciers. Harold Stowell has written and excellent and easy follow text on local geology.
Water is the unifying theme of this area. In Petersburg, we recieve some 150 inches of precipitation a year. This Pacific rainforest biome nurtures a multitude of creeks, streams, and rivers that provide habitat to 5 species of salmon. The rain and conversely, lack of fire, allow for a jungle of coniferous forest made up primarily of spruce and hemlock and a dense undergrowth. These rich forests have some of the highest biomass per acre in the world. For more information on the biological richness of Southeast, Rita O'Clair's Nature of Southeast Alaska is by far the best guide available.

The early inhabitant of this area used the abundant resources to establish a lifestyle of relative ease, although in times of cyclical scarcity, famine was not unheard of. Tlingit clans usually travelled to prize streams in the summer to harvest fish and then spent the winters in permanent villages in plank houses made from the sturdy timbers. They designed large, high browed canoes that were especially seaworthy in the choppy waters of the Inside Passage. Plentiful wildlife and year round access to foods from the sea and tidal zones rounded out their diet.

In the late 1800's, SE Alaska was providing the rich seafood bounty to the Seattle cannery industry. Petersburg provided an ideal spot to build a cannery not just because of good fishing but also because of its location the the LeConte Glacier, a tidewater glacier about 10 mile from town that provided an unending supply of ice to the cold storage facility. Petersburg is still a community (like most in Alaska) that is still very connected to its environment. Our primary industry is still based on the harveting of seafood. Connections to the land and water are still strong by native and non-native alike. Traditonal knowledge extends through the Norwegian, Philipino, and Tlingit cultures/communities. This year, Petersburg celebrates it’s 100th year as an incorparated city. While Scandanavians built the first permanent settlement on the tip of this island, the Petersburg Indian Association works hard to keep it’s cultural heritage alive. They provide a native studies course in the elementary school that introduces all students to the stories and traditions of their culture. Although considered part of the "landless" native groups their connection to the natural landscape that is now Petersburg, is still vibrant.

Land Bridge Animation

Check out this animation for another resource for you classroom. It is short and easy to stop and start. Very effcetive for using in the classroom.

Landscape of My Youth

The yellow pin is where I grew up, about 20 miles due south of Chicago. When I was growing up, my house was at the edge of the first wave of suburban sprawl. Outside my door were miles and miles of cornfields, prairie, and creeks. Growing to my teens, I watched it all disappear. The green pin is my guess of where the sprawl currently ends in the southern direction. That disappearance had a profound influence on me as I moved west and north in my late teens, never to return for more than just a visit.

Spirit and Science

In the video “The Spirit of Subsistence Living”, the indigenous ways of understanding nature are founded on the ‘interdependent relationships’ Native Alaskans had/or have with their environment. The value of this understanding of nature is in essence an element of survival. When you are required to use almost every resource available in your environment for survival, a thorough understanding of how it functions becomes crucial. The spirit embedded in all nature, sila, the “nurturing spirit” as it is referred to in the video, is aptly named, for nature is intimately responsible for all of your sustenance. Indigenous people, especially hunter/gatherers are especially linked to understanding connection- they are all, by their nature, scientists. Likewise, this understanding of connections is evident in any culture that still acquires it’s essential commodities directly from nature. Agricultural communities recognize connections. In the town I live in, Petersburg, commercial and subsistence fishermen recognize connections.

Western science doe not have the urgency of survival as an element to it’s understanding of nature. While some of the goals of scientific inquiry may be to save lives or improve man’s well-being, they are typically far removed from our immediate needs. Ironically, this luxury of time maybe waning as ocean acidification and climate change become better understood. By design, spirit has been taken out of nature in a western scientific view point as a function of objectivity. A western perspective is mechanistic, usually theoretical, with an emphasis on the “how and why” . The advantages of this, shown on the venn diagram from module 1 are that it frequently offers a bigger picture or global perspective as well as a micropersective. These are two important shortcoming of a native perspective in an increasing interconnected planet where pollution from coal fire power plants in China drifts over Alaska or toxins from ocean borne plastics bio accumulate in sea life. Thus, native science without a global view is shortsighted and dangerous as is western science with out a holistic outlook and an acknowledgement of the connected spirituality of nature.

The value of combining the strengths of each of these views is obvious. It would make for not only a more complete understanding of nature, but also of an enhanced respect for nature. As an educator, I strive to get my students to make local connections to the things we study in the classroom. Stealing an article in an old Whole Earth Catalog, we developed a series of lesson called the Home Repair Project based on essential questions like “When you turn on the tap, where does your water come from? When you flush the toilet, where does your waste go? When you flip a switch, where does the power come to turn on the light? These and other similar questions are then addressed in both science and social studies content areas. In a small town in Alaska, it is easy to trace the links that keep our communities working, that allow us to survive and prosper. Teaching about the spirit of nature is less direct and more challenging. Literature and writing work well as we read, write about, and discuss books on nature by Jean Craighead George, Gary Paulsen, excerpts from Richard Nelson, Tlingit myths and legends, and others. It’s my belief that understanding, like empathy, fosters respect and that any scientific undertaking should begin with respect for nature. A similar challenge of respect faces many Native Alaskans and their communities. They, too, are grappling with spirit in nature in their own ways. With the economic realities of our times, how does “sila” apply to native corporations that are involved in clearcut logging, hardrock mining, or factory trawling? Dustin Madden's story of becoming a teacher in Anchorage shows how a vision of a strong education is critical in keeping native communities healthy in a rapidly changing environment. In many cases, their future is dependent on wisdom and traditional knowledge of the elders combined with the technological skills and global awareness of their young people.

Teaching an old dog

First, let me get this out in the open. I am 52 years old and have been a school teacher for 15 years. Next, I know from experience that teachers can be the worst students imaginable (remember your teacher ed classes?). So I post the following observation not as whining, but as a way of understanding.
I am finding that navigating the links to the required content for this class is like reading a fascinating but complex book while the television is turned to the history channel at the same time that NPR is featuring a "driveway moment" story on the radio. It gets just down right hard to focus! Too much interesting stuff. Our high school has a 1-1 laptop program and it is easy to see how kids are beginning to learn in a radically different way than I did. Participating in this class is an excellent opportunity to reframe not only my teaching (which I strive to do continually) but also how I learn. Hopefully, you can teach an old dog.

Once in a ...

Here in Southeast, we're not generally known for our stargazing weather. But it has been quite a treat for us to get to actually see a blue moon and a wolf moon back to back. If this keeps up, I might just need to get that telescope I've always dreamed of.