Sea Save Foundation - Cocos Island News

Carlos Hiller - Production of a Cocos Island Masterpiece

2011-11-21T21:01:00.000-08:00

Carlos Hiller, famed marine artist and dedicated conservationist

created a special painting for the Sea Save Foundation fundraising

auction.

This video shows the work in progress. The scene captures the

excitement and beauty of a cleaning station. The Cocos adrenaline

rush is a product of a 360 degree awareness of everything happening.

Large schools, cleaning stations, macro, pelagics, currents... Carlos

has captured both the beauty and excitement that is Cocos Island.

Fillmore - A Special Grean Sea Turtle Visiting Cocos Island

2011-11-20T20:37:00.000-08:00


Jim Toomey Creation, Fillmore, Draws Attention to Tagging Program

Fillmore is a green sea turtle quipped with a Mark 10 satellite tag that shows his global position. These tags are extremely high tech: costing $5,000, they can last for over a year of continuous submersion!

Fillmore is adventuring at Cocos Island National Park and his tag will show his swimpath around the island!

Jim Toomey, the author of Sherman's Lagoon cartoon, is working closely with the Sea Turtle Restoration Project using his popular character Fillmore to illustrate the sea turtle's Cocos Island travels.

Currently, Filmore is swimming south and is nearing the 12 mile border of the Cocos Island protected area. There he will encounter a deadly danger zone full of longline fishing hooks.

Carlos Hiller - Profile of an Artist and Conservationist

2011-11-19T12:52:00.000-08:00

Carlos Hiller, at Cocos Island

Carlos Hiller is a man of restless energy, and an unrelenting drive to get things done. It is apparent in the undertones of his soft voice, the steady of his piercing blue eyes, but most of all it can be seen in his art.

"I have two passions: art and the ocean. The majority of my art - all but three pieces, I think - are depictions, interpretations of the sea. It wasn´t one that came before the other, either. My love for the ocean has always manifested itself in my artwork, and my love for creating, for painting and sculpting, has always found a subject in the ocean.

I do a lot of education work, too. I take my two passions to schools in coastal communities, and try to generate an interest in the ocean, try to create a passion for the marine world. I go to these schools, and paint a mural of a marine scene. To get the kids involved, what I usually do is paint the background, the marine landscape, and a shark, or a whale, something big. And then I paint the outlines of a school of fish, and all of the kids get to paint these fish. And to accompany the mural painting event, we do educational workshops. We teach the kids marine biology, and the importance of marine conservation.

Carlos Hiller explains the relationship between the species portrayed in his mural

The students fill in the blank fish with their own artwork

We focus our energy on coastal communities, fishing communities, where fishing is as much a way of life as it is a source of income, where the same fishing methods have been used for decades. I focus my education and outreach efforts on these communities to create a genuine love for marine life in the next generation, in the youth of these towns. If we can reach the next generation, we can break the cycle of harmful fishing practices handed down from generation to generation. We can turn these communities into part of the solution, not part of the problem."

"Apart from my education efforts, I also donate a mural to a poor, coastal community in Costa Rica every year. I´m just trying to get the ocean in the eyes of the people, trying to show them that it is so much more than a flat horizon line, waves against the beach, a source of food. I´m trying to show the world just how beautiful and complex the underwater ecosystems are, trying to raise awareness, generate interest. At the very least, I feel like I´m doing something to better the poor communities in Costa Rica, making the spaces within those communities beautiful. But I think it has a larger impact than that. I hope it does.

Last year, I also donated the murals at Wafer Bay, the one of the whale shark and the cloud forest up in the main complex, and the underwater scene along the north and west walls of the Casa de Voluntarios.

That was one trip to Cocos Island. Counting this last one, there have been two others. This most recent one was primarily a diving trip. I took a lot of pictures, soaked up the experience. I plan on using the material from this trip for future paintings.

President Chinchilla sends official proposal to create a Marine Commission.

2011-11-18T09:54:00.000-08:00

From left to right: Rene Castro, Leonora Jiménez, Laura chinchilla, David Chacón, Randall Arauz Y Andrés Jiménez.

On November first the group of conservationist held a meeting with President Chinchilla and the Minister Castro to ask for the immediate intervention and refurnishing of the Costa Rican Institute for Fisheries and Aquiculture (Incopesca). The group mention that Incopesca constantly fails to apply marine environmental regulations and that there is a serious conflict of interest, as the members of the executive board of the institute are owners at the same time, of the fishing vessels.

Delivering on it's commitment, the President Chinchilla officially responded to the campaign by the team of Leonora Jimenez, David Chacon, Andres Jimenez and Randall Arauz, on the official letter she presented a plan to form a committee to review the marine agencies of the country with the purpose of recommending actions to improve marine management. The plan was officially launched by the President on November 14, together with the Environment Minister Rene Castro. In the letter, the officials make clear that this government's commitment to marine resources is reflected in the National Development Plan 2011-2014, among whose goals is the management and promotion of fisheries and the development of a national plan for coastal and marine management, this Commission is thought to be very useful in reaching their goals.

In the executive summary the approach aims to create a Presidential Council, with a limit of three months to assess marine institutions. The same must diagnose, assess and recommend the necessary adjustments to the marine governance. "We consider is necessary to appoint a group of leaders and intellectuals to analyze marine institutions, hoping that from the results and the recommendations of this commission we can strengthen the institutions responsible for marine management and control of the country," Proclaim the proposal.

The document appoints the envioronmental lawyer Maria Virginia Cajiao Jimenez as the coordinator of the group, currently she is an advisor and coordinator of the National Environmental Council (presidential environmental council). Due to this position she will serve as the bridge to ensure communication and coordination with the Presidency of the Republic, the MINAET and other public institutions involved. The group is going to be integrated by an expert in oceanography or marine biology, a representative of government institutions, one of the artisanal fisheries sector and other industrial fishing sector, all of which have yet to be appointed.

"We consider of vital importance for the expert in biology or oceanography to be a leading academic from national universities. Alsofor the inclusion of a representative of high credibility among national NGOs, seeking greater equity among sectors represented in the commission as experience in different topics," said Andres Jimenez. "In addition in desire to avoid bias we expect for the represent of government institutions not to be from the Incopesca (from its name in Spanish translated to National Institute for fisheries and agriculture) otherwise we could unbalance the commission to the side of fisheries."

"We will be vigilant in the process, and report promptly to the civil society on the progress," said Randall Arauz.. "We are proposing to the Minister Castro to take us into account as a tool to link with the public."

"We are optimistic, as the President Chinchilla has shown great openness to the call of Costa Rican citizens who want better management of its precious marine resources," said Leo Jimenez. "We are killing the sea, and it is our responsibility and nobody else’s, to do something about it, and fight to demand reforms in the country's marine institutions we need."

Written by: Andres Jimenez

Costa Rica’s Chinchilla agrees to form commission to review maritime agencies

2011-11-08T09:06:00.000-08:00

Reprinted from TicoTimes.net / Clayton Norman

Among the agencies under presidential review is the Costa Rican Fisheries Institute, often criticized by environmental groups.


Noted international model Leo Jimenez and Cocos Island activist, takes case to President Laura Chinchilla

President Laura Chinchilla announced Friday that she will form a commission of experts to analyze and review the government agencies in charge of regulating Costa Rica’s marine resources. Included among those agencies is the Costa Rican Fisheries Institute (Incopesca), which has long been criticized by environmentalists for failing to curb practices like shark finning, a multibillion-dollar industry that is depleting shark populations.

The announcement came after the president met with various marine conservation leaders and activists who presented to Chinchilla the case that despite some recent major strides in protecting marine resources, powerful interests in the commercial fishing industry have stymied deeper institutional reforms.

Andrés Jiménez, a biologist and environmental journalist who attended the meeting, said the problem lies in the fact that Incopesca’s board of directors, who are charged with managing the country’s fisheries, have significant personal interests in commercial fishing that don’t always line up with conservation.

“In the end they are judge and jury,” Jiménez said. “They have never made a decision regarding public resources that didn’t affect their personal interests or those of their partners in foreign fishing fleets, and that, without a doubt, is something unconstitutional.”

Shark finning in and around Costa Rican waters by foreign and sometimes Costa Rican boats continues to be a central issue in the conflict between Costa Rican activists and Incopesca. Costa Rica has made milquetoast overtures to cut down on the practice by making it illegal to unload shark fins at private docks in the country, but the practice itself, which involves slicing off the fins and throwing sharks back into the water to bleed to death, remains technically legal.

Shark fins are worth big bucks in Asian markets, where they may fetch upward of $40 per kilo before being made into soup with supposed aphrodisiacal qualities.

Last month, the government of Colombia detained two Costa Rican ships under suspicion of finning and killing more than 2,000 sharks in a marine sanctuary off that country’s coast.

Shark finning is a powerful impetus behind the desire for change in Costa Rica’s fisheries landscape, but not the only one. David Chacón, president of the the Tárcoles Fishermen’s Cooperative, also attended the meeting with Chinchilla to represent the interests of small-scale fishermen who don’t have the advantages of heavily industrialized fleets.

“The small-scale fishing sector is very interested in the development of responsible and sustainable fishing programs,” Chacón said. “Unfortunately, the politics of Incopesca never benefit us, even though there are many more of us than those represented on the board of directors of Incopesca.”

Chinchilla promised to present, within a week of next Monday, a plan for the formation of the commission and its duties.

Thank you, Cocos Island Intern, William Henriques! We look forward to reading more of your blogs when you return in December!

2011-11-03T11:15:00.000-07:00

Sea Save Foundation would like to say thank you and good luck to blog writer extraordinaire and intern, William Henriques. We have all enjoyed reading your wonderful blogs during your volunteer stay at Cocos Island. We look forward to your return in mid December!

‎"I've also gained a new outlook on conservation while here. Or, to more accurately describe it, a nagging suspicion that I've had about conservation philosophy has solidified into a conviction, a belief. And as much as it is a conservation... belief, it's more of a lifestyle belief: Each individual has a niche in the ecosystem surrounding them, each individual has role to fulfill in that ecological niche." - William Henriques - From his first blog entry. Read more here

Goodbye for Now - William Henriques

2011-10-31T08:48:00.000-07:00

Goodbye to Cocos Island...for now.

Snapshot: Driving south of Jaco down the Pacific coast of Costa Rica along Rte. 143/34, driving south to Quepos in Guillermo’s battered Suzuki in which the windows only work half the time, driving south down the arrow-straight highway through miles and miles of palm-oil tree orchards, lining both sides of the road. We come upon the palm oil processing plant on the right. Greasy brown smoke billows out of the stacks, and Guillermo slows to show me the palm fruit piled in the back of old, beaten, tractor-draw carts.

Snapshot: Sitting in the shade of the trees lining the beach in Manuel Antonio National Park, surveying the several hundred tourists milling about under the Costa Rican sun. The group from France to the left is packing up, they were caught drinking liquor and were asked to leave. Further down the beach there’s a boy doing back hand springs down to the water. A troupe of three white-faced monkeys appears in the trees overhead, on the hunt for open food containers near low-hanging branches and then moments later the inevitable pack of camera-toting tourists arrives, some dozen strong.

Snapshot: Riding the bus from Jaco to San Jose, the bus is filled to capacity and then some. Can smell something fried – chicken, I think – and I’m listening to the soft murmur of voices and to the music blaring out of the ear buds of the larger women asleep in the seat next to me as I gaze out the window. Rain pounds down as the bus enters San Jose on Route 1, the Trans American Highway. Used car lots, industrial complexes, the San Jose International Airport, and billboards advertising McDonald’s Tica Burgers, Coca Cola’s 125 Anniversary, Kolbi, and EPA flash by.

No, I’m not on Cocos Island anymore; I’m in that other world now, that world outside of the island. I long to go back, I yearn to return to the Wafer Bay Station. I miss the routine, miss the bleary-eyed walk up to the Big House under the overloaded coconut palms in early morning light for breakfast, Filander’s cheerful “Buenos Dias”, the heaping plate of pinto, the morning meeting. I miss Golfin’s 5:30 am whoops of delight that rouse me long before my alarm , and chess games with Roberto in the evening and the Cocos finches fluttering and twittering around the big house in an eternal quest for crumbs. I miss those clear nights, when I would walk out onto the beach and look up at the myriad stars and at the broad band of the Milky Way, a view unmarred by light pollution and the noise of traffic, only the occasional cloud passing overhead. I miss the steady rhythm of the waves rocking Cocos Patrol, the chirping crickets that would lull me to sleep, and the sound of crabs scurrying across the sand when I stood still for a moment on the beach. I miss the remoteness, the feeling of disconnected -ness and peace it was possible to attain. I miss living and working in, around, and with virgin wilderness.

But thanks to the incredible generosity of Avi Klapfer, Alan Steenstrup, The Undersea Hunter Group and Sea Save Foundation, it’s only goodbye for now. I’ll be returning to the island aboard the Sea Hunter in mid-December, this time not in the capacity of a volunteer but as a diver. I will don my fins, mask, wetsuit , and tank to explore the submarine world that the park guards are working so hard to protect.

Reflections From Cocos Island National Park Director - Geiner Golfin

2011-10-28T11:56:00.000-07:00

Cocos Island, Pacific Ocean - Here we do not hear cars, it is not necessary to go to the store, a restaurant or a mall, I do not have to carry cash and I live in total harmony with Cocos Island.

I first arrived in October, the worst season for making the crossing, but even the strength of the waves could not dampen my desire to know this natural beauty. I remember that when I saw it for the first time, it felt like a dream come true.

I had spent much time immersed in marine biology textbooks at the National University, and now I was staring at a living textbook, it moved it shouted and it transformed me. Last Tuesday, over the Internet, we learned that the island could possibly become one of the "Modern Seven Wonders of the World." But, we know that it already is.

At night when we finish the days work, we only here the rain falling, or the blades of a fan. Silence is absolute. This is a quiet place. There is no fear. We can walk the trails without fear of assault or murder. This is another Costa Rica. Here 300 miles from Puntarenas, the sunrises resemble the sunsets. The sun rises as we patrol the island. The spectacle is unique and beautiful. The island remains black as the sun begins to illuminate the sea. This month we wait for the arrival of the fishermen. We watch cautiously, they hide between the islets and cast their nets to try to poach the rich marine life found here.

It is incredible to think that below us are hammerhead sharks, whale sharks, manta rays and moray eels. It is a quiet day. The sun is shining, but there are also pockets of rain, this is because the island is located at an intertropical convergence. Being here is the dream of every nature lover. However, it is also hard work.

No one can get sick. The nearest hospital is a 20 hour boat journey. Best thing is to be in very good condition. The evening is falling and the sun illuminates the mountains...

Being here, is my dream turned reality.

Isla del Coco, Océano Pacífico. - Aquí no se escuchan carros, no hay necesidad de ir a la pulpería, a un restaurante o centro comercial, no tengo que andar dinero, vivo en total armonía con la Isla del Coco.

Llegué en octubre, época de mal tiempo para navegar, pero ni la fuerza de las olas del mar, amainaron mi deseo de conocer esta belleza natural. Recuerdo que cuando la vi, por primera vez, sentí que un sueño se había hecho realidad.

Tanto tiempo metido en textos de biología marina en la Universidad Nacional y ahora estaba frente a un libro vivo, que se mueve, que grita y se transforma. El martes pasado, por Internet, nos dimos cuenta que la isla está postulada para ser una de las siete maravillas del mundo. Pero, saben una cosa, ya lo es. Lluvia y abanico Aquí, en las noches, cuando terminan las labores del día, solo se escucha la lluvia al caer o las aspas del abanico. El silencio es absoluto. Es un sitio tranquilo. El miedo no existe. Se puede salir a caminar por los senderos sin el temor de un asalto o asesinato, ésta, es otra Costa Rica.
Aquí, a 555 kilómetros de Puntarenas, los amaneceres parecen atardeceres. El sol sale mientras patrullamos los alrededores de la isla. El espectáculo es único, hermoso. La isla se ve negra, mientras el sol ilumina el mar. En este mes, esperamos a los pescadores. Hay que tener cuidado. Algunos se esconden en islotes y tiran sus redes para llevarse otra de las riquezas que tiene, su vida marina.
Amor a la naturaleza

Es increíble pensar, que debajo de nosotros hay tiburones martillo, tiburones ballena, mantarayas, morenas cebra y ranisapos de Commerson. Hoy (ayer), llegó un barco llamado Fénix, con varios estudiantes ingleses. Es un día tranquilo. Hace sol, pero, a veces, llueve, esto se debe a que la isla está ubicada en un sitio de convergencia intertropical. Estar aquí es el sueño de cualquier persona amante de la naturaleza. Sin embargo, también es un trabajo sacrificado.

Nadie se puede enfermar. Salir de aquí representan más de 20 horas viaje en barco. Lo mejor es estar en muy buena condición. La tarde está cayendo y el sol ilumina las montañas... Vivir aquí, es mi sueño hecho realidad

Cocos Island: Law #8436 - William Henriques

2011-10-27T10:16:00.000-07:00

Tonight's sunset - Day Seven Without Rain

Seven straight absolutely gorgeous days here on Cocos Island. Seven days without a drop of rain; “It’s not normal,” says Manuel. The small stream that runs onto the beach has dried up, and the water is so low in River Genio that it barely spills over the top of the dam just below the Genio Casade. For an island that receives an average of 275 inches of rain, seven straight days feels downright drought-like.

But I’m not complaining. I’m sitting in the beachside pavilion after the day’s work is done, with Israel Kamakawiwo’ole’s rendition of Somewhere Over the Rainbow playing softly, and a gentle breeze is rustling the coconut palms and wafting the scent of cut grass into my face (the doing of Manuel’s weed whacker), and that golden, low-angle light reminiscent of a late 1980’s western film illuminates the early evening. Life is good.

I’m leafing through my borrowed copy of Costa Rican Law 8436, the Law of Fishing and Aquaculture (a robust 140 page affair), and comparing it to the English translation I found on Google, trying to make sense of the situation here in the park. The key piece, Golfin tells me, is Article 9.

Here’s Article 9, copied exactly :
Artículo 9. Sobre la pesca y vigilancia en areas protegidas. Prohíbense el ejercicio de la actividad pesquera con fines comerciales y la pesca deportiva en parques nacionales, monumentos naturales, y reservas biológicas. El ejercicio de la actividad pesquera en la parte continental e insular, en las reservas forestales, zonas protectoras, refugios nacionales de vida silvestre y humedales, estará restringido de conformidad con los planes de manejo, que determin para cada zona el Ministerio de Ambiente y Energía (MINAE), en el ámbito de sus atribuciones. Para crear o ampliar zonas protegidas que cubran áreas marinas, salvo las que apruebe la Asamblea Legislativa de conformidad con las leyes vigentes, el Ministerio deberá consultar el criterio del INCOPESCA, acerca del uso sostenible de los recursos biologicos en estas zonas. La opinión que el INCOPESCA externe deberá estar fundamentada en criterios técnicos, sociales y económicos, científicos y ecológicos, y ser emitida dentro del plazo de treinta días naturales, contados a partir de la fecha de recibida la consulta. La vigilancia de la pesca en las áreas silvestres protegidas indicadas en este artículo, le corresponderá al MINAE, que podrá coordinar los operativos con el Servicio Nacional de Guardacostas. Se permitirá a las embarcaciones permanecer en las áreas protegidas con porción marina o sin ella, en los supuestos de caso fortuito y fuerza mayor, mientras duren tales situaciones.

And in English:
Fishing with commercial purposes and sport fishing activity in national parks, natural monuments and biological reserves is prohibited. Fishing activity in continental and insular areas, in forest reserves, protective zones, wild life and wetlands national refuges, will be restricted according to the management plans that The Ministry of Environment and Energy (MINAE) (by its initials in Spanish) determines for each zone. In order to create or extend protected zones that cover marine areas, except for which it approves the Legislative Assembly according the current laws, the Ministry will have to consult INCOPESCA criterion about the sustainable use of the biological resources in these zones The opinion of INCOPESCA will be based on technical, social and economic, scientific and ecological criteria, and should be emitted within a thirty days term, starting from consultation’s reception date. The fishing activity in the indicated protected wild areas will be monitored by MINAE and coordinated with the National Service of Coastguard. The vessels will be allowed to remain in protected areas due to Force Majure cases, while such situations last. MINAE and INCOPESCA will be able to jointly authorize, the transit or anchorage of boats in protected areas, when natural conditions strictly require it.

Rather dry, but there are a couple of important pieces to this article: 1) It establishes that any form of fishing in national parks is illegal. 2) It gives the funcionarios (MINAE employees) the authority to monitor protected waters, while accompanied by the Costa Rican Coast Guard.

I kept flipping through the book, and on page 94, I found Title X: Crimes, Offences, Penalties, and Remedies. Chapter I: Offenses and Penalties. Article 131 gives INCOPESCA (Costa Rican Institute of Fishing and Aquaculture) the power to implement and enforce fines and penalties. Article 132 gives the Coast Guard the authority “arrest and confiscate property, equipment, gear, or fishery equipment used to commit crimes and offenses against the fishery legislation.” And then Articles 136-153 delineate in detail the penalties for various offenses (type of fish caught with, type of equipment, un-licensed fishermen, etc.).

So to summarize up to this point:
Fact 1: Fishing in national parks is illegal.
Fact 2: The park rangers and the Coast Guard have the authority to make arrests and confiscate equipment.
Fact 3: There are penalties for every violation imaginable involving “fishing activities”.

Despite Article 9, the presence of fishing boats within the park limits is continuous

But the Cocos Island patrol finds boats within the park on a daily basis, and nothing happens. It’s as if the law doesn’t apply out here on Cocos Island, and the fishermen are somehow immune. But talking with, Pablo, our resident Guardacosta, after dinner tonight, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

Unless patrol catches fishermen in the act of hauling or setting lines, Pablo explained, the park officials can do nothing. “Fishing activity” is prohibited, but the presence of fishing boats in national parks is not. And when patrol hauls long lines out of the water? There is no identifying marker on the lines, no name or number associated with it. And since there’s no physical link between the boats Patrol chases away and the lines it hauls out of the water, the fisherman, technically speaking, are not violating the law. The park authorities are powerless to impose any sort of fine or punishment on the fishermen simply for being in the park.

Furthermore, Pablo explained, the park is severely understaffed. Even if the law did allow the seizure of the boats and the arrest of the fisherman on board, nothing could be done with the current number of funcionarios and Guardacostas on the island. Regulations dictate that five Guardacostas must be present before an offending boat can be boarded (a necessary action to arrest the fishermen and seize the boat), but the Costa Rican Coastguard only sends out one or two members at a time.

On top of the anemic numbers, the park also suffers from a lack of equipment. There is no patrol boat that can hold five people, let alone the six or seven that would realistically take part in a boarding operation. As of this moment, there’s only one patrol boat in service right now, Cocos Patrol, and four is a tight fit. Cocos Patrol 1, the other “patrol boat” in the water, has been waiting for its registration papers from the mainland for 30 months. And now, because it has been sitting in Wafer Bay for so long, inactive, it has engine problems.

For 6-8 hour patrols, four people aboard Cocos Patrol is a tight fit

An ineffective law. An understaffed ranger station. And the wrong equipment. The illegal fishing will continue for as long as this trio continues to plague Cocos Island National Park.

But the winds of change are blowing. I can feel a sense of urgency, an infusion of fresh energy among the funcionarios; they’re sick of the system, and they’re "stirring the pot". But they need help. They need their message pushed out into the world. They need help pressuring the government to change the law, to make it stronger and more effective. They need better equipment. And this is where those of us “outside the system” - outside of the government and outside Costa Rica can help. Make a donation. Spread the word.

As Margaret Mead said: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”

Ranger Profile: Filander Avila Calderon

2011-10-26T09:18:00.000-07:00

Position: Guardaparque - Kitchen Coordinator
Age: 42 Years
Numbers of years as Guardaparque at PNIC (Parque Nacional Isla del Coco): 11 years
Off-Island Residence: Grecia, Alajuela Province, Costa Rica

I’ve already spoken several times to the supreme quality of the food here at the island - in particular, the coffee and morning pinto. But to put a face to the food, I present any and all readers with this exquisite chef, Filander.

I asked him some questions last night as he finished the kitchen cleanup, giving the counters a final wipe down and putting the last of the leftovers away in the refrigerator, and he was more than willing to chat for several minutes. I’ve done my best to paraphrase his responses accurately, and I’ve tried not to take any creative liberties.

As the Kitchen Coordinator, what are your duties?
It’s my duty to provide three quality meals each day to the average 15-18 people who live at the Wafer Station. I get up around 4:30 every morning, and am in the kitchen by 5:00 am, and then my day usually ends around 7:00 pm when I finish the kitchen cleanup. I also keep track of the pantry inventory and sort through the shipments of provisions. As with all the other funcionarios, I have certain maintenance duties too; in my case, I’m responsible for maintaining a clean kitchen and dining area.

Do you have any hobbies?
I love to cook. When I’m here, it’s all I do. When I’m home, I enjoy spending time with my family, and resting. I guess you could say that walking is one of my hobbies, too. I really love walking in the woods around the station whenever I can get a spare moment.

What was your work before becoming a funcionario?
Ah, that’s a complicated answer. When I was really young, around eleven or so, I started working. My first job was working for a cobbler, where I spent several years learning to make shoes out of leather - I specialized in cowboy boots. After that, I worked in my family’s clothing factory. Eventually, my brother and I got sick of that work, and so we took a job at an export warehouse. I was the guy checking each shipment to make sure all the merchandise was accounted for. After that, I landed a job with the Undersea Hunter Group, out of Puntarenas, and I worked on board their various boats for three years as a sous-chef and cabin steward. I made friends with some of the Guardaparques who worked here at Cocos Island, and when a position in the kitchen opened up, they asked me if I wanted the job. I agreed, but first I came here to work as a volunteer in the kitchen for two months. They had to see if I was going to be the right fit with the community of funcionarios and volunteers that lives here, and they wanted to make sure I could handle the daily stress of preparing quality meals for so many people.

What’s your favorite part about living and working here at the island?
I love the forest, all the trees. There’s one tree that I particularly love, called Palo Hierro. It’s endemic to the island, and it’s just beautiful. I also love walking in the forest along the path to Chatham. I think that’s probably my favorite piece of the island, that trail that goes up behind this building and over the ridge to the Chatham Station.

Filander's favorite tree

What is the most important work you do here?
The most important work that the Guardaparques do as a collective? Our first priority is stopping poaching by the fisherman from Puntarenas within the park’s boundaries. But in order to do that , we need a happy, well-functioning team. That’s where I come in, the most important part of my job. I try to prepare good food to keep the team’s spirits up and their bodies healthy.

Reseaching Hammerhead Sharks and Need for Expanded Protected Areas

2011-10-25T09:12:00.000-07:00

How "Stuff" Gets to the Island - William Henriques

2011-10-25T09:02:00.000-07:00

Snapshot: First morning at Cocos Island. Woke up at 5:00 am aboard the Undersea Hunter and something was different; the motor had stopped, and there was an unusual amount of activity - thumps, bumps, and voices. Climbed up the companionway from the crew’s quarters where I was stowed and looked curiously out the window of the main salon (view partially obscured by rainwater streaming over the porthole glass) at a steep, emerald green shore rising up out of gray water under a leaden sky. An unfamiliar man wearing an army green rain poncho was occupied passing plastic crates down to to a rubber launch tied to Undersea Hunter’s starboard side.

The cook stepped out of the galley and said something in Spanish (at this point my Spanish was limited to Buenos dias, gracias, and the words for breakfast, lunch, and dinner), pointing urgently back down the companionway at my bag, and then to boat tied up alongside. I got the gist: Time to go. I donned my raincoat, pushed my overweight pack up the ladder into the main cabin, pulled myself up after it, then shouldered my pack and stepped out into the rain.

Two more rangers were in the boat were busily arranging the crates, filled with vegetables. I was put up front, on top of the meat coolers. My pack went below the lettuce. Just another item on the morning’s delivery list - that’s what I felt like, unable to understand a word of the conversation going on around me. Fragile. Handle with Care. This Side Up. I sat in the bow of the dinghy, thinking: what have I gotten myself into?

With the shipment loaded and the new volunteer on board, the rangers cast off and motored across Chatham Bay, through the Challe Straight between Agujas Point and the enormous hulk that is Manuelita. The rain stopped, and I could see early-morning blue sky through a tattered hole temporarily ripped in the cloud-ceiling. Hundreds of magnificent frigatebirds and red-footed boobies soared overhead, as we passed through Weston Bay and rounded Presidio Point, entering into Wafer Bay. We motored towards the beach and as the coconut palms came into focus, a river mouth appeared and we made for it, nudging up into the sand of Wafer’s riverside landing, and then a swarm of people descended on the boat, hauling crates to the waiting tractor and trailer, and Esteban led me to the Casa de Voluntarios and showed me to my room and then left me alone with the words: “Breakfast is at 6:30.”

The route from Undersea's anchorage to Wafer Bay

(Photo courtesy of www.diving-world.com)
Everybody and everything that arrives here on the island - funcionarios, volunteers, vegetables, frozen meat, gasoline, lightbulbs, and trash bags - shares the same experience. This is how it goes: when anything needs to get to Cocos Island, it must first travel to Puntarenas, one of Costa Rica’s main Pacific ports, located in the Gulf of Nicoya. In Puntarenas, said person or object is loaded onto one of the tourist boats that brings divers to the island for week-long trips. The Undersea Hunter Group runs the most trips out to the island, and so their boats are the ones most often used. After 36 hours and over 300 miles in the Pacific, the boat arrives in Chatham Bay. Early in the morning, usually between 5:00 and 5:30 am, a group of rangers will take the Mobula from the Wafer Bay Station over to Chatham, where they will pick up person, produce, or supplies. On mornings with large deliveries, the rangers take Megaptera (an old, battered police boat for hunting down drug runners) because of its much larger platform.

A large provision re-supply arrives in Megaptera

People come and go on a weekly basis. Hardly a diving boat arrives without a new volunteer or funcionario. When they arrive on the island in the early morning, they are escorted to their quarters by a funcionario. They’re told “breakfast is at six-thirty, the morning meeting an hour later,” and by the end of the day, they’ve blended right in.

Volunteers are stowed in the "Casa", which occupies the second floor of this brilliantly painted building (Office, Infirmary, Dive Room, and Guardacosta's quarters occupy the first floor)

Provisions - fresh fruit and vegetables, meat, canned and dried goods - are shipped out roughly every two weeks. The morning of a food delivery is a hectic affair. The whole station is roused by 5:45 and told to be down at the river. When the “supply boat” pulls alongside the bank, the horde descends, forming a human train to transfer the crates and boxes from the boat to the waiting trailer. The tractor and trailer drive the several hundred yards up to the river, and then the train forms again to off-load the trailer, delivering the food to the porch just outside the kitchen. All this before breakfast - a good way to work up an appetite. Station supplies and tools, (such as the wire cutters sent out several weeks ago) arrive with the shipments of food.

The trailer all loaded up

The kitchen porch all loaded up with produce

Gasoline and diesel arrive in 2-3 week intervals. Gasoline is transferred in 60-gallon, plastic drums to the Megaptera, which transports the drums to Wafer. From the Megaptera’s parking spot in the mouth of the River Genio, the gasoline drums are transferred to the lower bodega’s pumping station. Diesel never actually makes it to the island; it is transferred from the diving boats directly to the patrol boat. The patrol boat holds 300 gallons in its two tanks on board, and an additional 120 gallons are held in drums that are strapped to the deck.

Three recently arrived gasoline barrels, waiting for transport off of Megaptera to the bodega

And that’s how “stuff” gets to the island. No need to do a whole new post on how “stuff” leaves the island; the only things that leave the island are trash, recycling, funcionarios, and volunteers. Late in the afternoon of the departure day, the “outgoing mail” is loaded up into the Mobula and sent out to the departing diving boat. 36 hours and 300 miles later, the diving boat arrives back in Puntarenas. Trash and recycling are disposed of, and volunteers and funcionarios go on their merry way.

Six days from now, that will be me. How time does fly.

Also in the Cocos Island News today: The Albatross and Chaday I were caught within the park again by today's patrol. That's the second time this week they've been caught. Grand Totals for 2011: Albatross - 19 violations. Chaday I - 13 violations.

Cocos Island: Ranger Profile: Roberto Cubero

2011-10-24T12:58:00.000-07:00

Position: Park Guard - Chief of the Sustainable Tourism Program
Age: 30 yrs
Number of years as Park Guarde at PNIC (Parque Nacional Isla del Coco): 1 Year
Permanent Residence: Santa Ana, Costa Rica

For the past several weeks, Roberto and I have been dueling it out on the chess board after dinner. Well, “dueling” might not be the most accurate verb, because it insinuates that we’re relatively equal, and that fight is a fair one. Restatement: For the past several weeks, Roberto has been annihilating me on the chess board. But despite the guaranteed trouncing, I’ve found that the most pleasant way to spend an evening at Wafer Station is to play several games of chess with Roberto, salon empty and classical music playing softly in the background.

Anyways, here’s a little bit about Roberto, taken from an interview I conducted several nights ago. I’ve paraphrased his responses, and tried my hardest to convey them accurately, without taking any liberties.

As the Chief of the Sustainable Tourism Program, what are your duties?
As the Chief of the Sustainable Tourism Program, my duties entail coordinating and supervising tourist activity around the island. When a boat of divers arrives, I give an introductory presentation and collect the park fee. I monitor the numerous dive sights to ensure that diver activity is not having an impact on the island’s marine ecosystems. Really, I’m in charge of anything that has to do with diving; I’m responsible for checking all of the moorings in Wafer and Chatham Bay, and also for keeping the hulls of Cocos Patrol and Cocos Patrol 1 barnacle-free. But diving-related activities aren’t my only responsibilities. I guide visitors on the various hikes around the island, and I’m part of the “transfer team” that ferries the deliveries of produce, gasoline, volunteers, and funcionarios from the boats to the island. Then there’s my least favorite task, processing all the paperwork - permissions, waivers, etc - related to the diving boats. And like everyone else at the station, I’ve got certain responsibilities in regards to the maintenance and upkeep of the station. As one of the rangers most frequently on the island’s trails, I end up doing a lot of the trail work.

Roberto is one of the go-betweens for the Park and the diving boats. All of the communication and coordination is carried out over the radio.

Do you have any hobbies?
I’m an outdoor kind of guy. I like to surf, mountain bike, and kayak. Out here at the island, I do a lot of scuba diving as part of my work, but I also enjoy free diving. I can hold my breath for two minutes, but I’m trying to push that limit. I’d like to be able to stay under longer than that. I’m also a big birder, and a recreational photographer. Recently, I’ve started playing chess again. I used to play a lot, but then I stopped for three years or so until a couple of weeks ago when Vinicio challenged me to a game.

What was your work before becoming a funcionario?
Before I got the job as a guardaparque, I worked as a naturalist and outdoor guide. My work took me all over Costa Rica, but most often I found myself in the Arenal area in the north, or around Corcovado National Park, along the Pacific Coast in the south. I spent a month here at Cocos Island as a volunteer, and afterwards I got a call from Golfin with a job offer. Despite the lower pay and the prolonged time away from home, working at Cocos Island, well, let’s just say that it’s not the kind of opportunity you turn down.

What’s your favorite part about living and working here at the island?
Favorite part of the island? Well, two things. First, Roca Sucia. I love diving at Roca Sucia; it’s absolutely beautiful, by far my favorite dive. And second, Chatham Bay. I love the geography of Chatham Bay, love the view from the trail above Chatham Bay. The distinct lines of the landscape, accentuated by Manuelite, combined with the clarity and color of the water, ah, man, it’s just buenisimo. Pura vida.

What is the most important work you do here?
The most important part of my work is controlling and reducing the impact of visitors on the pristine and wild marine ecosystem around Cocos Island. Illegal fishing is an enormous threat to the marine life in the park, but so too are careless divers. The most important part of my job is ensuring that the divers that come here to the park are educated about responsible and safe diving practices, so that they have a minimum impact.

Cocos Island: Photo Essay: All in A Day's Work at Wafer Station - William Henriques

2011-10-19T10:15:00.001-07:00

A Day in the Life of Wafer Bay Station

Vinicio is the station's office man, processing administrative paperwork and anything else that comes his way: inventory, daily patrol reports, and the various permissions required by the dive boats.

Filander prepares the perfect meal.

Beatrice and Daniella are painting the inside of the lower bodega.

This four wheeler is being shipped back to the mainland for repairs because the shaft that drives the rear axle has snapped. It was lifted on board Megaptera by four funcionarios. It will be transferred to one of the diving boats by crane and carried back to Costa Rica.

Victor disposes of some recently pruned lime tree branches.

Even though he worked through lunch and is eager for some chow, Bryan takes the time to rinse off the snorkel gear in fresh water after spending the morning cleaning the hull of the Mobula (One of the island's transport launches).

Guillermo fashions a new plug for the stern of FAICO III, another one of the launches.

Golfin, the park's head, hard at work in the shade of the beach-side pavilion.

And then, of course, there's the daily patrol:

Our resident Guardacosta Pablo, takes the helm of Cocos Patrol during today's patrol.

Below the white cross (representing the position of the Cocos Patrol) is the island as it shows up on radar. Above the white cross are two red blips; these are the fishing boats we caught within the park on today's patrol. We initially picked them up on radar when they were six miles off shore, and we chased them out of the park. At thirteen miles, just a mile outside the limit, the two boats cut their engines. We circled around them, taking down the boat names and hull numbers.

Yes, some things never change. The ever present poaching vessels.

The Albatross - Already caught within the park 17 times this year

The Chaday I - already caught within the park 11 times this year

The crews of the two boats lounged on the decks in the sun. Some took videos or pictures with cell phones and cameras. Others simply stared.

As we turned towards the island, several of the fisherman raised their arms in casual wave, gesture of smug satisfaction that turned Maikel's normally serene expression sour.

We spent the next two hours trolling the water's where the fisherman had originally been looking for the lines Maikel suspected were there (the radar was picking something up in that location) but we came up empty-handed. When night fell and there were no more boats on our radar, Maikel pointed the bow back to Wafer.

Tomorrow, there will be no patrol because it's diesel delivery day. Unfortunately, no patrol doesn't mean no fishermen; it just means that today there won't be anyone to drive them away.

Cocos Island: Everest - William Henriques

2011-10-18T23:15:00.000-07:00

A Bigeye Scad noses the submarine

I watched this morning’s Channel Seven news with mild interest, more to practice my Spanish than anything else. The rain and resultant flooding continues across Costa Rica, the Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez is sick, and there was a big cocaine bust somewhere on the continent. Really, I was more focused on the plate of pinto in front of me and the strong, hot coffee in my left hand. Emphasis on the coffee focus.

But my early morning caffeine reverie was broken abruptly by Golfin: “Listo por el submarino?” Ready for the submarine?

Whoa. That wasn’t out of the blue or anything. Did I hear him correctly? “El submarino?”

“Si.”

Pinto and coffee forgotten, I sprang to my feet and hustled down the path to the Casa, taking the stairs two at a time up to my room. Dry clothes...check. Camera...check. Dry bag for both...check. Then out the door and down to the river landing before I had a moment to catch my breath and process. A submarine dive! Two months ago? The thought was laughable, unthinkable, out of the question.

I was dropped off on the deck of the Argo by Michael and Roberto, who continued on to another newly-arrived diving boat to give their standard introductory presentation. On board, I was introduced to the operating team of the Argo’s submarine DeepSee by a tall man with curly dark hair and serious eyes by the name of Arik. One of the submarine pilots, he would be in the control boat on the surface for this particular dive. Jose Antonio was to be the support diver on the surface with Arik. Felipe, a submarine pilot in training would be the other passenger, and Eli would be our pilot. Firm handshakes and “Pura vida” were exchanged all around, then Felipe and I were ushered into Argo’s salon for the safety briefing and the signing of the Deep See’s release form.

Mount Everest rising up out of the blue gloom

After the debriefing, Felipe and I were handed black socks and light blue overalls with DeepSee embroidered in white across the back. We donned our submarine attire and took several pre-dive photos under the blazing sun, and then we stepped into the submarine. “Right hand on this handle. Left hand on this line. Feet on the seat. Now right hand on the seat back. Left hand on the other side. Now both feet on your seat, and sit down.” Very precise entry instructions, followed to the letter with utmost care. Better to avoid damaging any of the delicate equipment or electric wiring that would be keeping us alive and afloat over 200 feet below the water’s surface.

The hatch clicked shut and I felt the slightest pressure in my ear canals. Then submarine instruments whirred to life, digital displays flashed on, and we pulled away from the Argo, towed by the surface support boat. We weren’t going far from Argo’s anchorage to the east of Manuelite - only 5-7 minutes of tow time. Our destination was a dive site by the name of Everest - the summit of which is some 40 meters down, and the bottom of which is a whopping 80 meters below the surface.

Felipe, pilot in training (left) and Eli, our pilot (right)

On the way to the dive site, I was able to find out a little more about my companions. Eli is originally from Israel, and he’s been working for the Undersea Hunter Group for three years. He stumbled upon the job while traveling the Americas after finishing his obligatory military service. He thinks he’ll probably work another year or so as a submarine pilot, but once Felipe has finished his training, he’d like to return home to Israel. Felipe has been working for the Undersea Hunter Group for a year as a Dive Master, and he jumped at the opportunity to become a submarine pilot. “Four years ago, I dropped out of business school to get my Dive Master Certification. Everyone told me it was a bad idea, because there’s no future for a Dive Master - the pay is bad and the work isn’t steady. But here I am, training to be a submarine pilot. I never would have thought this was where my life was headed, but it’s worked out.” Having just completed his first month of basic training, this was his first dive ever in a submarine. He was positively ebullient.

After Jose Antonio finished the final surface checks of the exterior, we were clear to make the descent.

When the tow boat stopped, Jose Antonio leapt into the water with a snorkel, making final adjustments to the submarine’s exterior, and pulling the cover off of the three-inch thick acrylic bubble. Eli began releasing air from the submarine’s tanks, and we began our descent, waves slapping against the bubble, then up and over it, and then we were submerged and sinking down into murky darkness. At 30 meters, we passed through a dim green cloud of plankton (“A new development - not something we saw here at Cocos until recently,” commented Eli), and then the summit of the seamount appeared out of the gloom. A Mobula ray (Sicklefin Devil Ray) with an eight foot wingspan swam overhead, body rippling through the clouded blue (“Mobula’s in particular are curious about the submarine”). Schools of fish flashed around us, circling the summit - Bigeye Scad, Rainbow Runners, and Chubs.

A Mobula ray overhead

We continued our descent down the side of Everest, a steep rocky slope covered in delicate Stylaster corals. Moray eels gaped out of cracks in the rock, jaws working open and shut. Octopuses blended perfectly with their mottled surroundings of red algae and white coral, and only the texture of their tentacles gave their presence away to the experienced eyes of Eli and Felipe (I was oblivious until they pointed out the suction cup pattern). Brotulas fluttered amidst the corals. An incredibly shy fish, they attempt to hide whenever they feel threatened; the catch is that they feel secure when their eyes are hidden from the threat, and oftentimes half of their flat, undulating bodies protrude from the rock where they have taken refuge. As we neared the bottom, a lone king crab was perched among the corals. “Keep in mind that everything viewed through the bubble is thirty percent smaller than it is in actuality. That king crab looks fairly small, but in reality, it’s a least a foot in diameter. Probably bigger.”

This massive king crab is missing it's left claw, probably from a scrap with another crab

Once at the bottom, Eli guided the sub around to the “backside” of Everest, and we began to ascend slowly, ever so slowly, Eli skillfully guiding the hull within feet of the mountainside, but never making contact with the delicate marine habitat. Black coral, immense and shrub-like - three to six feet in height - swayed in the gentle current; Everest is the only place around Cocos where this black coral is found. We saw more Stylaster corals and Basket Star corals too - a kind of coral that closes into a tight, mistletoe-like ball in the day, but opens up into a spectacular star at night. Above us, a small school of Amber Jacks congregated around the summit, darting to an fro in search of a meal. Four black jacks engaged in a complex, writhing ritualistic dance. Passing in front of the submarine’s lights, the school of small, plain looking Creoles turned a brilliant red. And then the exclamation we’d all been anticipating: “Martillo!” Hammerhead sharks, a small school of 15 or so, moving through the water several dozen meters overhead.

Amber Jacks and Yellowfin and Bonitos tuna feeding above Everest

The presence of bonitos and yellowfin tuna on the hunt above Everest meant the hammerheads didn’t stay for long. Hammerheads are very shy around other predators - and they usually stay away from wherever the action is. In fact, the hammerheads (tiburones martillos as they’re called in Spanish) don’t come to Cocos Island to hunt. They come to the island’s various cleaning stations, where other species will rid them of parasites, and they come to socialize and mate. Large schools of females, some numbering over a hundred, will congregate, with the larger females (reaching up to 15 feet in length) swimming in the center of the school, and the smaller females around the periphery. The males (significantly smaller than the females) swim into this school of females and select a mate, looking for the strongest and largest. Naturally, the healthiest, most fit males make it to the center of the shark school first. Darwin’s survival of the fittest at its best.

A small school of hammerhead sharks passed overhead

We passed from Everest towards Manuelite to Bajo Everest and then on to Bajo Manuelite in search of more hammerheads, but they proved elusive. We did, however, encounter two Galapogos sharks, another Mobula ray, and two quirky fish called Roselip Batfishes, that half walk, half swim across the sandy bottom as bats crawling across a ceiling. By the time we had finished the dive we were underneath Argo, and as Eli began to fill the sub’s tanks with air the bottom disappeared and the hull materialized overhead. Moments later the acrylic bubble emerged from the water into the blinding white light of the sun, and Jose Antonio was guiding the sub back into the docking bay, padded heavily with white buoys.

A Galapagos shark appeared out of the murky blue for several moments

Climbing out of the submarine can only be equated to the imagined scenario of stepping out of a spaceship after some intergalactic voyage. It is at once a relief and an immense disappointment to be back in the above-water world that we know so well. It’s as if emerging from a dream, a wonderful dream, in which time seemed infinite and life so beautiful, but to wake up is to come to the painful realization that the dream world is fleeting and temporary.

The frenzy of life atop Everest

Yes, the dream is gone, but the feeling remains. I’ve been walking around all day cherishing the feeling of wonder and amazement, guarding the memories of the submarine world closely, to access on those days when I am far from here, desperate for beauty and hope.

Thank you to Sea Save Foundation, the Undersea Hunter Group, Alan Steenstrup, Cocos Island funcionarios, and in particular Geiner Golfin. I would like to also thank Avi Klapfer without whose generous support the Sea Save Foundation, "Cocos Island News" and my "DeepSea" adventure of a lifetime would not have been possible.

Cocos Island: Cerro Yglesias - William Henriques

2011-10-17T23:20:00.000-07:00

It’s the tail-end of yet another Sunday, and I’m sitting in my room contemplating the cool air flowing through the industrial-grade screen of my single window, the smell of clean laundry, my sore feet, and today’s hike to the island’s summit, Cerro Yglesias.

The troop at the summit

My companions for the day were Pablo, the island’s in resident Guardacosta, Glorianna, a highschool senior from Monteverde, and Julia, a Mexican-German taking a year off before college to work in Costa Rica. After a 5:30 am wake-up call to schlep the new shipment of provisions up to the kitchen, a quick breakfast, and a surprisingly short morning meeting, the four of us were underway shortly after eight. A scattering of cumulus clouds hung tranquilly several thousand feet up beneath crystalline skies, the station lawn was wet with dew, and the crisp morning air was warming rapidly under the brilliant sun as we set out.

Wafer Bay in the Sunday evening light

To get to the trailhead, we crossed the buoy bridge (swaying rhythmically to and fro with the heavy tread of four pairs of boots) spanning Rio Ganlo. Just downstream of the bridge, Sendero Cerro Yglesias disappears into the forest and veers up the steep slope of the ridge that descends down to the Wafer Bay river delta. Atop the ridge, the trail wends northeasterly (Snapshot: View of Wafer Bay, moss-covered cliffs of the southern shore, Roca Sucia to the west, Roca Cascara to the northwest, and Wafer Station to the north) up into an open-understory forest, where bromeliad cling to trunks and branches and thigh-sized vines drape from tree to tree. We meandered along the path at a leisurely pace, following the ridge as it veered to the south and continued to climb higher and higher through an increasingly claustrophobic rainforest.

Bromeliad clinging to a tree trunk along the trail

From a distance, the climb to Cerro Yglesias looks no more then a hop, skip, and a jump. But in reality, it’s many, many slow, plodding steps. The trail is relentlessly steep and the footing is treacherous - uneven, and loose, oftentimes slippery. Onward we trudged, and the minutes stretched into hours.

El bosque nuboso

Then suddenly the scenery changed and the cloud forest appeared. One moment the trees were draped in bromeliad, and the next they were coated in a thick layer of brown-green moss. The air felt damper, fresher. The day’s light dimmed, acquiring a golden, enchanted-forest slant and hue. A light breeze swayed bearded branches reminiscent of Tolkien’s Ents, rushing softly through el bosque nuboso. Cocos Finches darted from branch to branch. Once we hit the cloud forest, that before-the-summit excitement flared, but quickly faded as we realized we still had much ground to cover. No, it wasn’t the cloud forest, but the view of the pyramidical summit of Cerro Yglesias from the flattened top of Cerro Pelon that gave our small group of four its [much needed] second wind.

Cerro Yglesias, from the near to summit of Cerro Pelon

After Cerro Pelon, the trail drops abruptly down into the saddle between the two peaks, then emerges up out of the saddle along an east-west axis ridge. To the north of the ridge, the island drops precipitously into the white-capped, cobalt blue Pacific; to the south, the land falls gradually down to the V of Yglesias Bay.

The view of Yglesias Bay from the saddle

The ridge-trail culminates at the summit, emerging out of the cloud forest onto small patch of crab grass with a sign (Cerro Yglesias 634 M) nailed to a gnarled and wizened stump, and stake driven into the ground to mark the peak. We threw ourselves to the ground, and after passing around water and the wafer cookies that comprised our only sustenance, we sat in silence. I listened to the distant rhythm of waves beating against the shore 634 meters below, felt the ripples and eddies in the current of wind streaming over the summit, gazed down at the froth-ringed Dos Amigos and out at the horizon. Magnificent frigatebirds (Fregata magnificens) soared overhead. A lizard appeared on the summit sign, then darted away as I moved to get a closer look. The sunlight waxed and waned with the passing of clouds, and I lay back and closed my eyes, soaking it up.

The summit sign

We stayed on the summit for three hours, milking our time and the good weather for all it was worth. Who knows if any of us will ever return? The sun, the wind, the clouds, the Pacific, Dos Amigos - we took it all in, and it was with reluctance that we finally began the trek back to Wafer in the mid-afternoon light. The only thing driving us down was the desire for a heaping, steaming plate of rice and beans; wafer cookies just don’t cut it on a day-long hike.

A bearded branch

On the descent, I contemplated the forest around me, this magnificent island and the wilderness that it is. And as I thought about wilderness in general, and about how quickly it seems to be disappearing, thought about overpopulation and urbanization and the technological revolution, Edward Abbey’s book Desert Solitaire sprang to mind. It’s one of my favorites, and these two passages in particular strike me as being particularly relevant:

“A man could be a lover and defender of the wilderness without ever in his lifetime leaving the boundaries of asphalt, power lines, and right-angled surfaces. We need wilderness whether or not we ever set foot in it. We need a refuge even though we may never need to set foot in it. We need the possibility of escape as surely as we need hope; without it the life of the cities would drive all men into crime or drugs or psychoanalysis.”

“Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit, and as vital to our lives as water and good bread. A civilization which destroys what little remains of the wild, the spare, the original, is cutting itself off from its origins and betraying the principle of civilization itself.”

The overwhelming majority of the world’s population will never see Cocos Island, never climb to its peak nor dive into its depths. But the fact that it is here, that it exists - pristine and un-pillaged - is comforting. As Ed Abbey says, civilization needs such refuges, as a source of inspiration and hope.

Sunset over Cerro Yglesias

And with all of the problems facing the world today, inspiration and hope are two things we can't afford to be short on. Which is why it's crucial, absolutely essential, that the virgin wilderness that is Cocos Island remains exquisite and untouched.

Cocos Island on Facebook

2011-10-17T07:26:00.000-07:00

Please check out the Sea Save Facebook Page and "Like" to stay informed.

http://www.facebook.com/Seasave

Also check out the Stop Brutal Shark Finning Cause:

http://www.causes.com/causes/119165-stop-brutal-shark-finning

And

Protect Cocos Island Cause
http://www.causes.com/causes/11958-protect-cocos-island-one-of-earth-s-final-wild-places

Cocos Island: Shark Finning News Report - William Henriques

2011-10-14T21:41:00.000-07:00

Thursday night, I was watching the evening news in the salon after dinner with Steven and Roberto when the following report came on (Warning: the video is in Spanish, and has some fairly graphic images of shark finning):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lwOmQgP0tRM&feature=related

The gist of it (for all you non-Spanish speaking blog readers) is that ten Costa Rican fishing boats were caught illegally fishing in protected Columbian waters around the island of Malpelo. Dead, finless sharks were found by divers around the island, and it's believed that the Costa Rican fishing boats were among those "shark-finning".

This news got the Wafer Station crew pretty fired up - we've had two hour long morning meetings discussing the matter. What I gather from the conversations, carried out in rapid-fire tico (Costa Rican Spanish), is that the funcionarios believe that the boats caught around Malpelo Island (A factoid worth mentioning: Malpelo Island is also a World Heritage sight) are the same boats that come to Cocos Island. They're waiting for word back from El Continente - mainland Costa Rica.

Many of the rangers are looking to Columbia to make an example of these fishermen. There's an deep-seated frustration with the current Costa Rican laws and the current system, because no matter how many times Patrol catches a boat fishing illegally within the park boundaries, the fishermen are never brought to justice. The funcionarios are hoping that with different laws, in a different country, the fishermen will get what's been coming for them for a long time.

Cocos Island: Alternate Uses for Fishing Gear - William Henriques

2011-10-13T20:20:00.000-07:00

The funcionarios at the Wafer Bay Station have found many uses for confiscated fishing equipment:

This hammock is woven entirely of the plastic lines hauled from the water.

A path-side lamp has been crafted out of sections of buoy

Buoy converted into a hanging pot (hung with gacillas)

All clothes lines are strung with fishing line - durable and long-lasting

The pièce de résistance is the bridge that spans the river along the path to the hydroelectric station, and further up, the dam. It's constructed from buoys and fishing line, and is the island's "own little Golden Gate," as one funcionario put it.

Also in the Cocos Island news today: Two more fishing boats encountered by this morning's patrol. That brings this weeks total up to eight fishing boats caught within the boundaries of the park.

Cocos Island: The Early Morning Patrol - William Henriques

2011-10-12T19:26:00.000-07:00

I slept through my 2:45 am alarm this morning and leapt out of bed and out of my room and into the hall in one fluid motion when I looked at my watch and it read 3:02 am. Found the rest of the patrol crew placidly sipping on their morning coffee, looking at my door expectantly. I threw some sugar in the last cup of coffee, drained it, and scarfed down a packet of gallettas - the equivalent of four Nilla Wafers - and that was all for “first breakfast.”

Coffee in the stairwell of the Casa de Voluntarios

Under the light of the setting full moon, we motored out to the patrol and fired up the patrol boat’s engine. Cast off from the mooring, and set a course north, passing between the hulking silhouette of Manuelite and the island.

To avoid visual detection by fishing boats that might not have radar, the only lights on board the patrol boat at night are those of the compass and GPS.

Almost immediately, two fishing boats showed up on our radar, eight miles off the island’s shores. We set a course for them, but they must have had radar, because when we were six miles away from them, they began running out of the park. Still, we followed them until we were ten miles out, and the lanchas were thirteen (a good mile outside of the boundary, and beyond the ranger's jurisdiction).

Ten miles out, the island emerges in the gray, pre-dawn light

We cut our engines as the first of dawn’s light seeped into the early morning, and so did the fisherman - their blips stopped moving on our radar, and we could see their running lights bobbing in the waves just three miles away. For the next two hours, we sat near the park’s boundaries, hoping our presence would discourage the fishermen and force them to leave the area, or at least deter them from re-entering. But they simply sat there a mile outside, knowing they were immune and that they could out-wait us.

Sunrise along the park's boundary line

Eventually, we started moving west, scanning our radar for other boats, and keeping an eye on the two we had run out of the park. When we could no longer see them bobbing on the horizon, their two dots on the radar began moving east along the boundary line, and then back in to the park.

Caught red-handed just two miles off the island's shores (Photo courtesy of Frank Martinez Lopez)

It’s a waiting game, day after day after day, and it’s one the fishermen know they can win. We chase them out of the park. They wait until our inevitable return to Wafer, and they come right back in. They’re not shy about being here. Below is a photo and video of the boat that was caught two miles out from Wafer Bay during Monday morning’s patrol. Captain Guillermo Perez took down the name and hull number of the boat, but they wouldn’t respond to radio communication, and so their names and fishing license numbers remain unknown.

Compared to the photo above, taken from ten miles off the island, this video gives a pretty good sense of just how close two miles is

(Video courtesy of Frank Martinez Lopez)

While we were out on patrol to the northeast, another fishing boat passed right in front of the Wafer Bay station this morning. Reports from the funcionarios who saw the boat estimate that it was around four miles off shore.

Cocos Island: Ranger Profile: Steven Alvarado Murillo - William Henriques

2011-10-11T21:19:00.001-07:00

Steven Alvarado Murillo, Cocos Island National Park Ranger

As a volunteer, I’ve come to know the Wafer Bay Station and the surrounding area intimately, and I’ve gained a certain familiarity and feel for “the island.” However, only having been on two dives in my month here, I don’t know Cocos Island for that which it is most renowned: its spectacular diving. And I'm one of the lucky volunteers; many don't get the chance to dive at all. On the flip side, the visitors who come to the island aboard the numerous diving boats come to know the numerous diving sites around the island. They do not, however, know the Wafer Bay Station or the island, because they only come on shore once or twice during their time at Cocos Island National Park. What I’m getting at is this: the majority of people who visit Cocos Island know either the island or the dive sites around the island. There are a select few people in this world who have the distinct privilege of knowing both, who see the island in its entirety.

Enter Steven Alvarado Murillo (all of 34 years old), a funcionario at la Parque Nacional Isla del Coco, and one of those privileged few. Steven worked as an electrician and industrial technician for nine years, before deciding to quit his job, sell his car and house, and attend diving school. He spent a year accumulating dives and working his ways towards his Dive Master certification, and when he graduated, he secured a job with the Undersea Hunter Group leading dives at Cocos Island for tourist groups. He worked for a year with the Undersea Hunter Group - 25 trips in total - before he was fortunate to get a position as a funcionario.

As a guardaparque, Steven’s specializes in ecotourism (though he’s also the in-residence electrician). On land, he welcomes tourist groups that venture onto the island, explaining the park’s ongoing work to end illegal fishing, explaining the process or sorting out the confiscated fishing equipment. He accompanies groups on hikes up to the waterfall, or Cerro Iglesias, the island’s peak. In the waters around the island, Steven is one of several rangers responsible for the oversight and regulation of the dive sights. He is in charge of assessing and managing the impact of visiting divers. In recent months, the park has had to limit traffic to the site Manuelite Coral Gardens because of increased traffic’s impact on the ecosystem.

Steven and one of the Seahunter's crew in a discussion at the end of a hike up to the waterfall several kilometers upstream from Wafer Station

But according to Steven, the most important work he does is not the guiding, nor is it the oversight and regulation. He is one of the liaisons between the National Park and visitors who come aboard the dive boats, and at the outset of each dive trip when a boat arrives at Cocos Island, Steven motors out to the boat in Mobula, the park’s main transport launch, and gives a presentation to the visitors. This presentation is crucial, Steven says, because the best way to manage the impact of divers on the underwater ecosystems is to motivate them to practice low-impact diving. He tries to instill a leave-no-trace instinct in the visitors, because the park can oversee and regulate as much as it wants to, but ultimately it’s the choices of the divers as they explore that determines how well the flourishing submarine ecosystems are preserved.

Several nights ago, I asked him what his favorite dive site was. “All the places have something special, man, there’s not just one place. Punta Maria is where you go to see Galapagos sharks. Roca Sucia has spectacular schools of big-eyed jacks. Dos Amigos has a ripping current and breath-taking schools of hammerhead sharks. Alcyone has more marine life then any other site around the island. But they’re all good, they’re all special, they’re all beautiful.”

Also in the Cocos Island News today: This morning’s patrol encountered two fishing boats seven miles off the eastern shore of the island. Patrol chased the boats out of the park, but wasn’t able to get close enough to take down the boat names and numbers.

Cocos Island Patrol on an iPhone - Frustration - by Jay Ireland

2011-10-11T09:02:00.000-07:00

This will give viewers an idea of the frustration endured during a Cocos Island night patrol. We spent 17 hours in a small boat being tossed by the ocean. We tried our best to defend the island from poachers. While I know this one-man iPhone video is not production quality, I think it allows people to stand for a short time in the shoes of the park guards. Please stay tuned for more.
-Jay Ireland

Cocos Island: A UNESCO World Heritage Site - William Henriques

2011-10-10T19:55:00.000-07:00

The nearly full moon rises over the silhouette of the steep, low ridge to the east of Wafer Station, and the brighter stars shine feebly through the moonlight where today’s cloud ceiling has disintegrated. Crickets chirp incessantly in the warm evening air, and white moonlight glints off the ridges of the waxy leaf-blades of the coconuts palms that line the stone path up to the Big House. A low cloud scuds hurriedly across the sky, momentarily passing in front of the moon, but the cloud is too thin to obscure la luna, which shines through the core of condensed moisture with only a slightly diminished brilliance. I stand for several long moments outside of the Casa, simply soaking up the night, before turning and climbing the stairs to my quarters.

As beautiful as tonight is, nights like this weren’t on the minds of UNESCO’s World Heritage Committee when they selected Cocos Island to be a World Heritage site in 1997. No, this place wasn’t selected for it’s moonrises, but rather “the Committee inscribed Cocos Island National Park under natural criteria (ix) and (x) because of the critical habitats the site provides for marine wildlife including large pelagic species, especially sharks,” (whc.unesco.org).

The World Heritage pillar in front of the "Big House" (Photo courtesy of Frank Martinez Lopez)

For your reading pleasure, here are the aforementioned criteria:
Criteria IX: “to be outstanding examples representing significant on-going ecological and biological processes in the evolution and development of terrestrial, fresh water, coastal and marine ecosystems and communities of plants and animals.
Criteria X: to contain the most important and significant natural habitats for in-situ conservation of biological diversity, including those containing threatened species of outstanding universal value from the point of view of science or conservation,” (whc.unesco.org).

UNESCO does have a fund, the World Heritage Fund, which “provides about US$4 million annually to support activities requested by States Parties in need of international assistance.” It’s not that Cocos Island isn’t eligible for these funds, its just that in 2011, there are 35 World Heritage sites that are listed as “In Danger” of being destroyed or harmed, and “the World Heritage Committee allocates funds according to the urgency of requests, priority being given to the most threatened sites,” (whc.unesco.org). Fortunately, Cocos Island isn’t on the “In Danger” list. Unfortunately, this means that the island’s designation as a World Heritage Site doesn’t do much for it in the way of obtaining funds and equipment.

Three Cocos funcionarios are attending a Protected Marine Areas Operations workshop taught by three former members of the United States Coast Guard (Photo courtesy of Vanessa Garcia, of Galapagos National Park)

Despite the lack of funding and resources that plagues the park, the funcionarios are working there hardest to protect and preserve this place. In fact, three park guards are currently attending a five day course on the implementation and monitoring of Protected Marine Areas Operations. The workshop was put together by Galapagos National Park, and is being sponsored by WildAid and the World Wildlife foundation, and is being taught by three former United States Coast Guard members. What’s particularly remarkable about this is that these three Cocos Island funcionarios are attending the workshop in their precious time off of the island. I applaud their dedication.

Also in the Cocos Island News today: this morning, a patrol left Wafer Bay at 3:00 am (Of which I was not a part). Not two miles off shore, within sight of the Wafer Bay Station, they encountered a fishing boat out of Puntarenas. The boat was expelled from the park’s waters. The Guardacosta stationed on the island described it as a "blatant invasion, a gross violation of the law."

Cocos Island: MarViva: When the Funding Runs Out - William Henriques

2011-10-08T08:33:00.000-07:00

A curtain of rain descends over Manuelite

I sat bolt upright and seized my watch from next to the bed, terrified I’d missed the patrol boat scheduled to leave at three. I threw on my bathing suit and volunteer shirt, grabbed my rain jacket, and stumbled out of my room and down the stairs, to find Guillermo Perez, patrol captain, sitting on the bottom step, thoughtfully contemplating the darkness and the rain lightly drumming on the corrugated roof. I checked my watch: 2:35 am. Plenty of time. When Frank and Pablo emerged from their quarters, we took coffee in the stairwell with the moths, and no one was awake enough to make conversation.

By the time the coffee had kicked in and we had made ready to go to the boat, the rain was falling steadily. Captain G. Perez peered out into the darkness for several long moments, then told us to go back to bed, he was postponing the patrol to after breakfast in hopes that weather would clear up. So after the adrenaline jumpstart and the hot cup of coffee, I crawled back under my sheet for an attempt at three more hours of sleep.

After the breakfast, the rain was still coming down hard, and so patrol was once again postponed, this time to 2 pm in the afternoon.

At two, five of us piled into Munegu, the A-15 inflatable launch with it’s 25 HP motor. We puttered out into Wafer Bay and boarded Cocos Patrol (fondly referred to as Cocosita). Captain Perez fired up the engine, Pablo cast off from the mooring, and we set a northbound course until we cleared Manuelite, then we veered due east. As we came out of from behind the shelter of the island, the wind out of the south picked up and so did the swell.

When I mentioned in an earlier patrol blog that we were riding in an eight foot swell, I was lying. Until today, we’ve been patrolling in four to five foot swells, and I’m just not enough of a salt-crusted sailor to know the difference. Today’s swells were eight to ten feet - big enough that the boat was swallowed entirely by valleys of gray water as it slid down into the wave-trough, big enough for me to realize just how small and insignificant Cocosita really is amidst the vast Pacific.

When the wave crests began to curl over and foam, about three miles off the island and an hour into patrol, Captain G. Perez made the call. We were going to head back to Wafer. Cocosita bucked up and down, back and forth in the waves, rendering the radar ineffective. And without the radar, patrolling more than 432 square miles of protected area is a futile enterprise.

It was a frustrating day, that’s for sure. Patrol delayed twice due to weather, and then called off entirely because of the conditions. But the funcionarios can’t waste patrols in bad weather; they have to make each patrol count. Diesel is in very limited supply here, and the park can’t afford to squander it on days when the chances of finding a line or encountering a poaching boat are slim.

It’s not ideal, but it’s the reality of the situation. With the staff and resources to run only one 6-8 hour patrol each day, the park has to make do. If conditions are bad, it’s better to save the diesel for a better day then to push on.

When I first arrived, there two daily patrols. An organization called MarViva had a patrol boat out here, and they would take one eight hour shift each day, and the park would take another. The “MarViva Foundation is a regional, nongovernmental, nonprofit, whose area of action is in selected areas of the Eastern Tropical Pacific. Its mission is to promote the conservation and sustainable use of marine and coastal resources, through support for Marine Spatial Ordering processes,” (www.marviva.net - with the help of Google Translator). One of its primary goals is the “support for management and control of Marine Protected Areas,”(www.marviva.net) - hence the patrol boat here.

Founded in 2002 by Erica Knie, the organization had been a presence at Cocos for eight years. However, a week after I arrived, MarViva was gone. The funding for the Cocos Patrol has run out, and Marviva IX (the patrol boat) and it’s captain have shipped back to the mainland. Rumor has it that there was a sole benefactor of the patrol boat, and she passed away recently. When she passed, the funding was cut off.

So now the park is back down to one patrol. Whereas before there was some enforcement authority in the water 16 hours out of each day, and it was more about being a presence, now the funcionarios have to pick and choose their window. With only eight hours every day, they have to find the time when they will be most effective, when they will most likely encounter fisherman. And that means they are at the mercy of the elements, because patrol relies heavily on radar, and radar is ineffective in bad weather.

When the wind picks up and the curtain of rain descends, our bow turns to Wafer, and the fishermen have all 432 square miles to themselves. And that’s a problem.

Cocos Island: Photo Essay: Confiscated Lines - William Henriques

2011-10-07T17:38:00.000-07:00

Pictured below is the shed in which all of the confiscated fishing equipment is stored. To give some sense of scale: the blue barrel in the center is a 50 gallon, plastic oil drum. Each white, canvas sack is filled with line, and weighs approximately 40-45 lbs. On the left are the rows of barrels containing hooks and gacillas.

Barrels and barrels of hooks and gacillas.

The buoys are cut off the line and stored outside, along the edge of the Wafer lawn. There's no building here with enough space to contain all of them.

More buoys.

And more buoys.

Also in the Wafer Station news today: This afternoon's patrol just arrived back, cold and wet. They caught two fishing boats within the boundary of the park and expelled them.

Crazy Enough to Change the World

2011-10-07T11:34:00.000-07:00

“Here's to the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes... the ones who see things differently -- they're not fond of rules... You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them, but the only thing you can't do is ignore them because they change things... they push the human race forward, and while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius, because the ones who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do.”

Steve Jobs

At first this may seem like an odd addition to the Cocos Island News blog. I recall looking around the meeting pavilion my first day on the island. People were checking their iPhones and I was adding notes into my MacBook Pro that would later be uploaded to our blog or otherwise assimilated into park tasks. An iPhone video was created during a patrolling assignment that will be uploaded soon, and multiple Cocos Island "Google Docs" were created and monitored using an iPad.

During our stay on the world's largest uninhabited island, I was able to access the Internet using these products. In an instant, a global force could read about the daily challenges at this remote World Heritage Site. Twenty years ago, when I first visited Cocos, thoughts of this type of unobtrusive, inexpensive and immediate access would have certainly been considered crazy.

The men and women who have braved the Cocos Island rustic conditions, endured 36-hour crossings and the often frustrating Costa Rica bureaucracy have succeed in protecting the island from development, overfishing, poaching, significant damage from introduced species and many other threats. They have been considered troublemakers by some and crazy by others. They certainly do not tend to be fond of following rules.

I do not believe Steve Jobs ever visited Cocos Island, but I believe he would have supported the team of round pegs who are working daily protecting this park. I think he would be delighted to see his technology being leveraged by this "crazy" team, who indeed, may actually change this special piece of the world.

Cocos Island: Photo Essay: Hooks and Gacillas IV - William Henriques

2011-10-07T08:53:00.000-07:00

Thanks to the help of Sea Save's Jay Ireland, I finally have the ability to upload photos.

A blog reader kindly donated two pairs of wire cutters after reading about the process of sorting out hooks and gacillas, expediting the process immensely.

Guillermo has done the work of an entire morning (with the old method) in an hour and a half thanks to these new wire cutters. At this rate, the backlog of hooks and gacillas should be vanquished by the end of next week, at the very latest.

The nest of hooks in the second barrel.

The riverside workshop

Daniella is sorting the lines severed from their hooks. Steel wire in one crate, plastic line in the other.

Cocos Island: The Role of a Volunteer - William Henriques

2011-10-06T22:28:00.000-07:00

Guillermo Hernandez

When I first showed up on the island, I was the “problem volunteer”. It wasn’t that I didn’t get along with the rest of the Wafer Crew, I wasn’t blasting music late into the night, and I’m not a slob. It was simply that my status as young, non-Spanish speaking, unskilled worker gave me a certain reputation. I’ve got summer-job-level experience when it comes to construction, and I took wood shop in high school and that pretty much sums up the inventory of my technical skills. So I couldn’t be placed on motor repair duty. I was useless in the vehicle maintenance department. No help in the kitchen, since it would take more time to explain what I was supposed to do than it would to do it. And I certainly couldn’t take inventory - that’s entirely in Spanish, and I wouldn’t stand a chance. So where to put me? I imagined the funcionarios talking late at night, debating whether or not they should just send me back to the mainland on the next available boat.

But, they figured it out by day three; they stuck me with Guillermo (the volunteer, not the funcionario) who had been assigned to organize the bodega, which was in a sorry state. Plenty of work there for William, the “problem volunteer”.

It’s the best thing that’s happened to me; Guillermo’s been the ideal teacher and mentor. He embodies the Pura Vida way of life. His patience is limitless when it comes to dealing with my poor Spanish. His impish grin and devilish sense of humor make my days infinitely amusing. At 62, he walks with a spring in his step and a twinkle in his eye, and works steadily the day long, often breaking into song with a surprisingly beautiful, resonant baritone.

Guillermo’s here with his wife of six years, Vilma Mora (that exquisite pinto chef I mentioned in my last posting). The two of them are here for a month as volunteers, Vilma in the kitchen, and Guillermo wherever he’s needed. They leave on Sunday, returning to their house outside of Garabito, in the province of Puntarenas. I’ll be sad to see him go. He’s knows a little bit of everything, has the mind of an inventor. He’s always looking for better ways to do the work we’re doing, always innovating, using the materials at our disposal in unimaginable ways. He’s got a constant eye out for pieces of scrap wood that would make nice handles for the various hammer and spade heads collected in the upper shop. He’s the one responsible for our evolution as hook-processors. His back was getting tired from hours of sitting on end, so he ferreted around the station and found an old plastic bucket seat, and an old boat part, and bolted them together to create a relatively comfortable, straight-backed chair to work in.

Walking back down to the shop where we are separating hooks and gacillas after this afternoon’s coffee break, a light mist falling, illuminated by golden low-angle sunlight, Guillermo commented to me “Es bonito, el trabajo que nosotros estamos haciendo.”

It’s beautiful, this work we’re doing. Beautiful that we’re able to give back to, to contribute to this magical place. Cleaning the bodega, landscaping, maintenance, this work with the hooks and gacillas. It’s vital work. The fact that I’m here, that we’re here as volunteers, doing this kind of work, it means that the funcionarios don’t have to do it. They’re already understaffed, and to have us here, doing this day-to-day, maintenance type work, it means that the funcionarios can do the work that’s really important - the patrolling, the conservation of this beautiful place. That’s the really important piece.

I couldn’t have asked for a better workmate, teacher, or friend, and though I’ll be sad to see him get on the boat with Vilma on Sunday, he leaves me with this incredibly invigorating, refreshing thought: This is crucial work, the work I’m doing. Even the “problem child” can contribute here, because if I’m doing the maintenance work, the quotidian, the mind-numbing, it means the funcionarios don’t have to. It frees them, enables them to devote their limited resources to the real problem: ending the poaching and preserving this irreplaceable and singular place.

And as Guillermo said, that’s the most important piece.

Cosos Island: The Merits of Coffee and Pinto - William Henriques

2011-10-05T12:19:00.000-07:00

I wake up every morning at 6 am to the beep of my watch alarm. Looking out my northeast-facing window up at the sky, I’m usually tempted to fall back to sleep, because nothing says more sleep like a rainy day. Which is the norm here. There are rare mornings (like this one) when I can see sunlight illuminating a partly cloudy sky, and on these days, I’m only slightly more motivated to peel myself off of my mattress. Slightly.

But then I remember that I simply have to get out of bed and take a hundred yard stroll up to the kitchen, and there will be hot coffee and a heaping plate of pinto, rice and beans cooked together, usually with a sprinkling of onion and pepper. And suddenly that previously insurmountable obstacle - actually getting out of bed - becomes a manageable first task for the day.

Breakfast is early, just after sunrise at 6:30 am, and yet everyone is lively and cheerful. “Buenos Dias” and “Todo bien?” are exchanged all around, and the atmosphere feels relaxed and happy. This morning there was a spirited debate about whether a vertical ray that appeared in a photo taken by Guillermo Hernandez yesterday was simply an effect from the camera, from a UFO, or some holy sign. It remained the primary discussion topic through the end of morning meeting.

I don’t mean to project, but I can’t help but think that everyone is in such a good mood each morning for the same reason I am: coffee and pinto. The coffee is excellent - piping hot, full-bodied, and slightly fruity - and fresh; it grows in the mountains of central Costa Rica. Being a New England boy, fresh coffee is a new concept to me, but I’m all for it.

And the pinto! Until now, my concept of breakfast was confined to the conventional American/ English breakfasts: Cereal, eggs, bagels, pancakes, fruit. How limited! Had someone asked me two months ago whether I would enjoy rice and beans for breakfast on a daily basis, I would have answered no, those are strictly dinner foods. Tasty, yes, but not for breakfast. I was so wrong to think that way; There is nothing better than hot pinto in the morning.

I asked Filan, the new cook, how to make pinto. Very straightforward and simple, like all the good things in life, and I’d like to take this opportunity to share his recipe:
Start with the beans. Cook them until they are soft and hot. Then add cold rice, leftover from last night, and mix. Once the mixing is complete, continue heating. At this point, feel free to add any kind of spices; Filan usually does peppers and onions, finely diced. Be careful not to cook the rice to much, otherwise it will become crunchy. And that’s it.

Vilma has been our cook for the past three weeks (her pinto is excellent), and when four new funcionarios (Including Filan, the new cook) appeared on Monday morning, they commented on how good everyone’s spirits were, attributing it to the work of Vilma. If people are eating well, they are feeling well. Here on Cocos Island, where the space is relatively confined, and people must live in close quarters for up to 30 days at a time, good spirits are vital. And the atmosphere of the island is phenomenal. Even with the weekly flow of people coming and going, the rangers and volunteers feel and function like family.

I’d agree with the funcionarios. It’s the quality cooking, yes, but mostly the hot coffee and pinto ready for us at 6:30 every morning.

Cocos Island - Impact of Introduced Rats on Endemic Birds

2011-10-05T08:28:00.000-07:00

A current Cocos Island study examines the impact of introduced animals on endemic species. Nancy Orias Hidalgo is researching the relationship between Cocos Island rats and cats and endemic birds.

Preliminary results obtained by capturing and sacrificing island rats and then examining stomach contents reveal evidence of both feathers and eggs. Details and additional information can be viewed in this slide show generously provided by Ms. Hidalgo.

Cocos Island: New Borders - William Henriques

2011-10-04T23:42:00.000-07:00

I’ve been re-assigned to patrol duty for the next couple of days. Maybe more, but things tend to operate on a day-to-day basis around here (for me anyways, with my limited Spanish) so I’m not entirely sure what the duration of my assignment is.

There was no patrol today, though, because the diesel supply is low, so I spent the day doing various odd tasks. Two of the three rubber launches were hauled out of the water, and I helped scrub them with bleach, soap, and water. I hunted around for six nuts and bolts all of similar size somewhere at the station (not as easy as it might sound, because all nuts and bolts of various sizes are compiled in used oil containers in various locations). These, to replace corroded ones on board Cocos Patrol 2 (the smaller patrol boat). I cleaned up the third and newest pavilion, still strewn with construction debris. It was a pretty low-key day. Plenty of time to think. Plenty of time to reflect.

I’ve been pondering perception and reality lately, the relationship between facts and bias, and this incident in particular: last week, while working on the “hook barrel” with Guillermo, a group of American tourists came over to examine the operation (the tourists who come to Cocos to dive usually get one afternoon during their trip to wander around the Wafer Bay Station). When they found out I was American, we began chatting it up. They asked me about poaching, and I told them about the lines pulled out of the water earlier last week, and about the boat we had found anchored three miles within the 12-mile limit. I was corrected, informed that the limit used to be 12 miles, but it’s bigger now.

Curious to find out the truth, I asked patrol captain Guillermo Perez about the limits of the park as we were chasing the two fishing boats out of the park on Saturday evening’s patrol, and this is what I came up with: Currently, the limits of the park extend 12 miles in all directions from the island. Once the fishing boats are outside of the 12-mile limit, the funcionarios have no jurisdiction. There is however, a law in the making that will substantially increase the protected area. Currently, the protected area is a little over 1000 kilometers squared; the extended area would cover over 11,000 kilometers squared.

From what I gathered from Guillermo, the bill has been written, and is undergoing revision by a committee in the government that revises all Costa Rican laws before they are passed to ensure their constitutionality. Once the revision process is finished, the bill will be passed on to the senate, where it will be voted upon, and then it will be passed on to the president, who must sign it into law. Guillermo couldn’t say when the law would finally be signed and take affect.

But this is simply my perception of the facts, as gained by my conversations with Guillermo, and there are probably certain flaws in my perception of the truth, just as the perception of the American tourists was flawed. The reality of the situation is probably more nuanced, more intricate and specific, and to get the truth I will have to go straight to the park director, or higher up in the governmental hierarchy, to the committee that is reviewing the bill and to the lawmakers that made it. I’ll have to go straight to the source, because - like the game of telephone, where one person whispers something to the next and the message gets passed around the circle, almost always ending with a bizarre distortion of the original - facts which tend to change ever so slightly as they radiate out from their source. So as I continue to discover more about Cocos Island and the issues relevant issues, I’ll have to keep this thought in mind: go to the source. Anything else is liable to be unreliable, as experience has proved.

Cocos Island Repeat Offenders - Georgienne Bradley

2011-10-04T10:43:00.000-07:00

Cocos Island is not only a Costa Rica National Park, she is also a World Heritage Site. Inclusion in this prestigious UNESCO list signifies that Cocos is of vital importance and holds irreplaceable value to the international community.

Fins hanging from fishing boat

Above water the island is pristine and dramatic. Endemic flora and fauna and dramatic cliffs and waterfalls etch her landscapes. Underwater, Cocos Island boasts a still robust ecosystem complete with many apex predators, and the fishermen know this. Mainland coastal waters have been depleted. Fishermen, hungry for work cross the 350 miles of often treacherous Pacific Ocean to harvest sharks and other large marine animals from one of the final healthy marine environs on earth. What will happen when this area is also depleted? We will not even have the seeds to reestablish other currently lost coastal fisheries. Allowing poaching to occur at Cocos Island and at other Marine Protected Areas is myopic and there must be a zero tolerance for these activities.

Cocos Island park guards face many obstacles as they try to contain illegal fishing. Frustration and apathy are certainly among other more concrete challenges. Guards must patrol at night in small boats, fishermen cast their longlines on the windward side of the island and park guards must travel far to monitor radar and track the poachers, fishing boats greatly outnumber the patrol vessels and while pursing one poacher, opportunistic fishermen seize the chance to cast their nets and so the mess continues. It costs over $1,200 in fuel costs alone to run one patrol boat through the night.

Below is a list of boats that have been caught within the protected area of Cocos Island World Heritage Site. This is only the tip of the iceberg as many, many other boats are fishing within boarders everyday. During my recent stay, we detected an average of twelve boats per day fishing illegally, some only a mile or so from the park station.

Many of these boats are on record as multiple offenders, yet they have not paid a fine, or spent a day in jail. From their perspective, there is little reason why these fishermen should not continue to break the law, and that is exactly what they are doing every day.

Fishing Boats Caught Poaching Jan - Sept 2011
Boat Name	Registration	Total
Chaday I	P-10262	11
Alamacori II	P-10768	1
Franju III	P-5163	8
Albatros	P-4506	17
Shekina II	P-10294	7
Franju II	P-4519	6
Isamar	P-4677	6
Coopepez XX	P-205	7
Coopepez XIII	P-122	4
Susan	P-6351	3
Jose Carlo II	PQ-8577	1
ISAMAR II	P-10294	1
Shekina		1
Rey de reyes	PQ-7851	3
María Fernanda	P-11635	5
Escorpión	PQ-5328	1
Ana Aurora	P-2204	1
Alexander II	P-11801	3
Vikingo II	PQ-2547	4
Buitre IV		1
María Paula	P-11883	1
Capitán Tony	P-4997	2
Santa Cruz	P-94	1
Intrépido	P-6404	2
María Bonita		1
Dukike	P-7388	1
Margarita	P-4639	1
Doña Helen	P-2507	1
Franju I	P-6276	1
Oliver	PQ-4059	1

Cocos Island: Diving and Dancing - William Henriques

2011-10-03T18:57:00.000-07:00

I dove for a second time yesterday at a place called Alcyone, off the eastern edge of the island. We motored out into the swell, about half a mile off shore, where a line of buoys bobbed in the waves. Double checked our equipment, secured the boat to the safety line off of the buoys, and flipped over the side of the launch. Below us, a line descended down at an angle into the murky blue depths. There were four of us diving, and we descended one by one, hand over hand along the line. A submarine mountain-top materialized below us, and the line became crusted with barnacles as we neared the rocky summit.

We explored the terrain of the mountain’s tip, skimming over the surface of volcanic rock and patches of sand, examining the underwater alpine garden of minute aquatic life thriving on the rocks. All around, the submarine landscape dropped away precipitously into the mysterious twilight of the greater depths. A school of big-eyed jacks appeared overhead, and then was gone. Hammerheads emerged up out of the gloom off of one side of the summit. Reef sharks slid along over the bottom, littered with shark teeth, looking for scraps to feast on.

Our time at Alcyone was especially limited because the dive’s average depth is 28 meters (greater depths mean shorter dives, because air consumption happens at a more rapid rate) and all to soon we got the hand signal that it was time to begin the ascent. Swam over to the rope, and slowly began moving up, little by little, letting air out of our expanding dive vests as we went. As the bottom disappeared, several lone hammerheads swam below us, scanning the summit for an inviting meal, then they too disappeared and only the line and the streams of bubbles from our regulators were visible.

As we motored back to Wafer Station, Esteven, a funcionario, commented that the site had been pretty good, but not at its best. I find it hard to believe it gets better, but I heard it straight from the authority; when the currents are ripping, they bring with them all sorts of food and the underwater mountain-top swarms with aquatic life in the midst of a feeding frenzy. According to Esteven, Alcyone is a sight to behold in these instances; in fact, when the currents rip, it’s known as the best dive sight around the island. It must be incredible, otherworldly.

The skies opened up as we returned to Wafer, and the rain pounded down steadily all day. I hunkered down, slept for a while, wandered up to dinner and then back down to the Casa, planning on turning in early after sending off the blog for the day. But as I was going through a final round of edits around 8:30 pm, there was a loud rapping against the door. I opened it, and there stood Frank and Daniella, dripping wet. “Tu quieres aprender bailar?” Did I want to learn how to dance? Bed called, and the blog wasn’t quite done, but I don’t know a thing when it comes to dancing, and you never know when that kind of know-how will come in handy. “Absolutely.”

When I got to the salon, about 100 yards up the pebble path through a torrential downpour, the dancing was in full swing. The furniture was pushed aside and a computer playing Latin music was hooked up to a set of speakers. Frank and Daniella were spinning each other and Guillermo and Vilma were waltzing around the floor, - though I think the more accurate verb (if it existed) would be merenguing.

First dance I learned was the salsa - pretty straightforward when it comes to the footwork. Left forward, right back, left forward, step left, step right, step left, step right. Repeat. But my feet kept getting in the way, I just didn’t have the right swing in the hips, and my upper body was stiff - downright mechanical. I need to work on my rhythm, need to relax and let the rhythm flow through my body. But I fear only so much comes with practice, and unfortunately, grace on the dance floor is not one of my gifts. But there was not time for me to dwell on my incompetence, because it was on to the next dance: the merengue.

Over the course of the next hour I learned a total of six Latin dance steps. Just the footwork, mind you; my teachers wisely let the hips and arms slide for the first lesson. I practiced alone. I practiced with Daniella. I practiced with Guillermo. Contrary to my long-held belief, dancing is fun, and I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

When the dancing was done, I collapsed sweaty and tired into one of the chairs pushed to the side. An excellent Sunday by all accounts. I was exhausted, yes, but happy, content with knowledge that I had been diving and dancing in one of the most spectacular places on earth. And there’s still more to come.

Cocos Island: There's Not Just One Piece in the Puzzle - William Henriques

2011-10-02T19:09:00.001-07:00

It’s Sunday - day off for volunteers. The rain’s pounding down. It’s rained hard since 11:30 this morning, the most rain I’ve seen during my stay here. The stone path up to the main building is inundated with a murky, brown stream of water, and the small brook that runs through the middle of the station is no longer a steady trickle, but an invigorated rush. It’s been a big week for rain, and even the river that runs out into the bay pushes out into the low tide waters with more force than usual.

Yesterday morning was today’s antonym. Sunny and hot, with a light breeze rustling the palms. To escape the midday heat, Frank and I hacked open two coconuts, drinking the coconut water and eating the pure, white flesh while lounging in the shade of the Casa’s balcony. We were liberated from the morning’s work because we had been assigned to the evening patrol, which didn’t leave Wafer until 1:30 in the afternoon.

By the time 1:30 rolled around, the sun had disappeared and a bank of clouds on the western horizon had darkened the sky to a spectacular, deep bluish-gray. Waded out through the low-tide to the launch, and motored out to the patrol boat. Set a course to the north of the island, and by the time we had cleared Manuelita, a curtain of rain had descended.

About an hour into the patrol, and several miles out, two red blips showed up steadily on our radar to the northeast - fishing boats. Five miles away, we couldn’t yet see them on the horizon, but we set a course for them. Three miles off, they showed up on the horizon - two small, dark blobs bobbing in the distance. The two boats stayed immobile until we were within a mile of them - we were seven miles offshore, they were eight, four miles within the limit - when they fired up their engines. We chased them to the twelve-mile limit of the park, and once they had crossed the line and were safely outside the protected area, they cut their speed, and turned west, cruising along the circumference of the protected area. We ran parallel to them as we took down the boat’s names and registration numbers, but that was all we could do. The boats wouldn’t let us come any closer and we were unable to make radio contact. Resigned, and cursing under his breath, the patrol captain Guillermo Perez turned the boat back into the park’s waters as night fell over the Pacific in subdued, dulcet tones of blue, yellow, and gray.

There’s an image seared into my mind from this encounter. As we ran parallel to the boats, just outside the park’s boundary, I stepped out of the wheel house to get a better look at the registration numbers. They were difficult to make out, partially obscured as they were by the rust staining the hull. The fisherman stood in the stern of their boats, feet spread wide, balanced, needing no hold in the eight-foot swell. One was on the roof of the wheel house, with a camera, gesturing over towards our boat to his shipmates below. I could just make out the strains of voices above the grind of the engines. They were wearing an assortment of colorful clothing, and several were shirtless. Lean and muscular from days and days out at sea, setting and hauling lines, at the mercy of the weather and Old Man Sea. They were tico - pure Costa Rica.

I stared. They stared back. Their was something in their stance - not hostility, exactly, but a defiance - and I couldn’t help but feel some admiration for the men across the water, some respect. They are hard-working men. Fishing probably runs in their blood, a livelihood that has sustained their family for generations. They travel hundreds of miles off the coast, out into the Pacific, leaving their families for many months out of each year, in search of a profitable catch. Do they know anything else? I doubt it. And why would they come out here? I don’t know. But it seems to me that they wouldn’t make the voyage unless the fisheries along the coast had been exhausted. And what drives overfishing? More than anything else, it is the demand for food by the population on the continent.

Just as the myriads of species here are victims of poaching, so are the fishermen victims. They are the casualties of larger problems over which they have no control - namely, overpopulation. They are a small piece of the puzzle that is today’s troubled world.

I feel very strongly that the natural wonders in the waters around Cocos Island need to be protected. Poaching is occurring on a daily basis, and it needs to stop so that this unique and beautiful place may be preserved. But I also empathize with the fishermen. I have seen their boats, rusted and worn. I have seen Punterenas, the town in which they live. These fishermen are members of the working class; their lives are not easy. I feel just as strongly that the fishermen must not be demonized, must not be portrayed as the enemy. For who knows how many mouths they feed with their income? Their dignity needs to be preserved, their hard work must be respected. Not praised, but respected for what it is, because these men, like billions around the world, are doing what they have to do to get by, to survive.

By the time we returned to the Wafer Station at 9:30 pm, a light mist was falling, but the crescent moonlight glinted off the wave-peaks, shining through a small hole that had been ripped in the patchwork cloud-ceiling. Wading back up to the beach in the dark, cold and wet, its pretty easy to forget about the moonlight, forget about the starry sky behind the clouds, forget about the profound peace and stillness at the base of Manuelite, forget about the veils of water cascading off of the island’s cliffs, forget about the gentle rhythm of the patrol boat bobbing in the waves. Its easy to forget all of that and focus only on how uncomfortable my life is in that moment, slipping and tripping up to the beach.

But to forget about the rest is to see the world through a half-closed camera lens. It’s very limiting. I have to constantly remind myself to see the rest of the world too, to take the lens-cap off, and see the moonlight shimmering in the water of the bay through the rain. It takes constant vigilance, and still, I often fail to keep an open mind, fail to see the whole puzzle instead of one little piece. But I keep working at it, keep trying. Because it’s worth it.

Cocos Island: Hooks and Gastillas III - William Henriques

2011-10-01T08:06:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was more of the same - hooks, gastillas, and rain.

Sitting under the corrugated roof of the open-air shop down by the river with Guillermo Hernandez, another volunteer. He’s teaching me the words to “El Dia Que Me Quieras”. El dia que me quieras, la rosa que engalana.Water streams off the eaves, drips down onto the cement slab through a hole in the roof, but where we sit is dry. Untangle a hook from the snare in the barrel. Lay hook and line across the saw horse. Tap, thwack, thwack, with the hammer and chisel. Little line scrap goes in the yellow bucket, hooks go in the red. Next hook and line.

I was averaging between three and five hooks a minute. 60 minutes in an hour, so that’s 180 to 300 hooks in an hour. We worked for a solid seven hours. That’s 1260-2100 hooks over the course of the day, for me alone. With two of us working steadily, we probably processed between 2500 and 4200 hooks over the course of yesterday.

The last patrol I went out on, we collected 44 hooks off of one line. So take the lower number of hooks processed in a day (let’s be modest) - 2500 - and divide that by 44 - you get approximately 56. What does that mean? Over the course of yesterday, we processed hooks from at least 56 confiscated lines. Probably more. We’ve worked for two days on this one barrel, and we’re about one-third of the way through. We probably have at least a week of work left, maybe more, on the backlog of hooks and tangled line. Let’s say seven days of steady work. That means that we’re looking at 504 confiscated lines sitting here on the island - at the very least! And these are only the lines that the Cocos Island patrol pulls out of the water. I know for a fact that the UnderSea Hunter Group boats pull lines out of the water regularly too.

The numbers that I’ve just thrown out are the lower end of the scale, but impressive nonetheless. But I have a hunch that those numbers are far more staggering, and the reality is that the situation is far more desperate than we think.

Cocos Island: Hooks and Gastillas II - William Henriques

2011-09-29T20:55:00.000-07:00

Voices outside the Casa de Voluntarios woke me up at 5:00 am this morning. This isn’t the first early rousing though; it happens once or twice a week. I’ve come to associate it with the arrival of new faces, and this morning was no exception to the rule. When I stumbled groggily down the stairs of the Casa and looked over towards the river landing, sure enough, there was the launch with the newcomers, along with several dozen crates of fresh produce and three coolers chock-full of meat. Resupply day - perfect timing. I arrived with the last supply load 14 days ago, and the daily salads have been slightly meagre of late.

Breakfast was delayed as all hands were on deck carting the food delivery up to the kitchen in the pouring rain, and the day’s morning meeting didn’t start until eight. But the day eventually did kick into gear, and then it was back to sorting hooks and gastillas. We have moved on to the back-log: two and a half 50-gallon plastic oil drums filled with a rat’s-nest tangle of line, and rusty hooks. These barrels promise many days of work.

Today’s patrol motored in right before lunch (poor Daniella, one of the newer volunteers, had gone out and was unfortunate enough to be seasick the entire time), and the monotony of corroded, entangled line was broken as we spent the early afternoon sorting out the new line the patrol had hauled in.

As for the mystery of the enormous pile of line-filled sacks and the half dozen oil drums filled with metal gear pieces, I was able to find some answers. I spent the morning working with Jeido, another volunteer who has some broken English, and though he’s only a volunteer, I probed him for information about the confiscated fishing equipment. This is what I came up with:

Fact 1: The national park system is currently in court against the fishermen (and their friends and political allies).

Fact 2: The fishermen are claiming that they are setting their lines outside of the protected marine area, and that the Pacific currents are carrying them into the protected area around Cocos (This isn’t an entirely unjustifiable argument - the lines are strung out in the water along a line of buoys, and there is no anchor to prevent them from being carried by the currents)

Inference 1: The fishermen have sued the park (or some sort of legal equivalent) for confiscating their gear, and are claiming this seizure is unlawful because the lines were not technically placed illegally.

Fact 3: The confiscated gear is in fact just sitting there. The rangers can do nothing with it until the court case is decided. They are legally bound to keep it here, in case the fisherman win the court case and demand their equipment.

Inference 2: With no flow of materials, the rangers have no reason to stay on top of the organization of the confiscated gear. When there are ample volunteers, they can be put to work sorting. Hence the backlog that I’ll be working on for a while.

Surveying the above information, I was struck by this thought: there’s a limited amount of space here on the island, a limited storage capacity, and based on how things look, we’re closing in on the limit. What happens when there’s simply no place to put the confiscated equipment, and no court decision has been reached?

I have a conjecture, a conspiracy theory of sorts: what if it came to the point where the rangers simply could not do anything with the illegal lines? If things don’t look good for the fishermen in court (which they don’t - there is plenty of evidence documenting poaching), it would be in the fisherman’s best interest to stall the court - prevent them from reaching a decision, for as long as possible. It wouldn’t surprise me if they are intentionally trying to bury the case in the bureaucracy of the Costa Rican government. Because at some point, the island will reach its carrying capacity. And then the lines will float freely, the catch will increase, and so will the profits.

Just a thought, but still more investigating to do.

Cocos Island: Hooks and Gastillas - William Henriques

2011-09-28T20:53:00.000-07:00

Spent the day sorting out the confiscated lines from the last two patrols - three lines in total, hundreds of yards of the stuff. The hooks and gacillas - metal devices used to extend lines (I don’t know what they’re called in English) - are separated out from the thin, translucent fishing line. Once the line is clean of all gear, it is stuffed into canvas sacks. A full sack is about the size of a hay bale, and two days worth of patrols converted into four of these sacks, each weighing in at 40-45 pounds apiece (that’s a rough estimate). The hooks and gacillas are sorted as well ( A harrowing task - the hooks are nastily sharp, and camouflage well when mixed in with the gacillas). Any sort of line attached to the eyehole of these devices is cut away, and then the gear is tossed into its respective bucket.

All of this gear is stored in an enormous shed down by the river, amidst the “lower compound” of the Wafer Bay Station. The shed is probably 15 feet by 20 feet, and at least 15 feet high. Over half of it is taken up with an enormous mound of the hay-bale sized sacks, piled literally to the ceiling (My camera is being dysfunctional at the moment, but soon enough I will have pictures up). Literally dozens of sacks worth of confiscated lines. What space is not taken up by the line is filled with plastic, 50-gallon oil drums, overflowing with hooks and gacillas. Several of these barrels remain unsorted, so that will be my task for the next several days, along with a couple of other volunteers.

Several things strike me as odd about this process, and I’m not sure what to make of them. Nothing for now, since I’ve only been here for two weeks, but definitely some things I will be thinking about:

Patrols have been occurring the entire time I’ve been here (14 days), but only in the last two days has anything been recovered. Is this irregular timetable normal?
Why are there two whole barrels of unsorted fishing gear? As a volunteer, this is the sort of work I’d been expecting to do. Though I’m happy to act as landscaper during my time here, I feel that managing the flow of confiscated fishing equipment should be more of a priority than raking the leaves around the pavilion.

Two expand on #2 slightly. All of the confiscated material seems to just sit there. Maybe sorting the equipment does not take priority because there is no next step. Its a distinct possibility that piles just sit there, in which case, what’s the rush? But leaving all of that raw material to simply rot is a waste. I see an opportunity to recycle the plastic line (grind it into pellets, re-use it!) and the hooks and gacillas (that metal is a valuable resource).

I understand that the last thing the rangers want is for the equipment to fall back into the hands of the fisherman. Follow that train of thought, and one can imagine that sending the equipment back to the continent is pretty risky, given the corruption in the Costa Rican government. How easy it would be to just sell the hooks and gastillas right back to the fishermen for a little personal profit! No, no, better to keep it all here out of the hand of bureaucrats and fishermen alike. But the sack pile will just get bigger, and more barrels will overflow.

It’s also a possibility that the funcionarios keep all of the confiscated gear here as evidence of illegal activity. But it seems to me that a written record and photo documentation should be able to accomplish the same thing. And again, if legal action were to be taken against the fishermen, the court would want the evidence on the mainland. But based on my limited knowledge of Costa Rican law, I believe any confiscated equipment must be turned into to the courts in San Jose within 24 hours of being confiscated if it is to be used as evidence, and the pile has been sitting here for two weeks now. So legally, its useless.

But before I get too carried away, I need to know more. And since I’ll be sitting in the shop, separating fishing hooks from gastillas for the next couple of days, I will have plenty of time to get some answers.

Cocos Island: A Changing of the Guards - William Henriques

2011-09-27T21:23:00.000-07:00

Cocos Island Sunset

After dinner, I wandered down to the beach and lay on my back looking up at the stars, up at the Milky Way, that hazy cloud of faint light, the swirling centerpiece of the night sky. No light pollution - just an unadulterated, starry sky. The chirp of the crickets was incessant, and the swell had died down, waves washing up on shore with the faintest rush of air. What a contrast to last night, rain pounding steadily down, drumming the corrugated metal roof outside my window as I drifted off to sleep.

But that’s not unexpected. Such changes in the weather occur on a daily - even hourly - basis; it rained steadily for a half hour at lunch today. Change - as the hackneyed phrase goes - is the only constant. That holds true for the cycle of residents here on the island as well as the weather. Of the 20 people staying at Wafer Bay when I arrived, only four of those people remain. None of the rangers that were here when I arrived on the island thirteen days ago are here now. Their thirty-day shift has finished, and they’ve all left for their thirty days of leave on “The Continent”; Esteban and Moises were the last of the “original” funconarios to go. But new faces have arrived to take their place. It’s just another changing of the guard, and such is life on the island.

And yet, there’s also a magnificent permanence about this place. Kayaking in Wafer Bay this afternoon after the day’s work was done, I could feel it. The south-western shore of the bay was silhouetted against a golden haze of low-angle, evening sunlight, and the north-eastern shore was bathed in it. Blue-footed and brown boobies soared over the bay, flapping in and out of their comically small nests of leaves perched precariously on thin branches overhanging the water. Waves rhythmically pounded the glistening black rock where crabs scurried up and down. And beyond the bank of clouds sitting low in the western sky, the Pacific stretched on, wonderfully interminable, unfathomable, and mysterious. This same Wafer Bay has been here for hundreds, thousands of years. An eternity, on a human scale.

In today’s world of minutes and seconds, where change is more of a constant than ever before, I am relieved and comforted by the sort of changelessness that Cocos Island represents and embodies. And yet, I am disquieted when I think about the impact of poaching (two more extensive lines hauled in during this morning’s patrol) and other sorts of changes happening today, in particular climatic ones. How will they affect this permanence which I turn to as a source of solace, a refuge? How do they affect it?

And once I know the answers to those questions, I can answer this one: What can I do to protect and preserve this place?

Cocos Update ~ What lies beneath?

2011-09-27T13:44:00.000-07:00

Reported to Nicole by Georgienne ~

"One of the most interesting aspects of this expedition is the fact that the underwater ecosystem seems to be constantly changing. Tiger sharks are being spotted somewhat consistently. This is the first time these sharks have been seen in many years. What is bringing these sharks to the island? Temperature changes? Ecosystem shift? Longline bait from orphan fishing lines providing an easy meal? These large, reportedly aggressive sharks seem to be frequenting the Cocos Islets at night hunting the white tip shark populations that congregate there."

Please feel free to weigh in and leave any questions or comments you have here!

Cocos Island: Patrol - William Henriques

2011-09-26T21:07:00.000-07:00

At 8:30, Guillermo, a park funcionario, Frank, Alonzo (two other volunteers), and I walked across the tidal flats to the small launch beached at the water’s edge by the low tide. After hauling it off the sand and into the surf, we motored out to the smaller of the two boats marked “Cocos Island”. Around 20 feet long, with a wheel house big enough for maybe three people maximum, and a three-step ladder down into a two-bunk cabin in the bow, complete with microwave, sink, and head (toilet) - it seemed ridiculous to patrol the waters of the mighty Pacific in such a boat. But the [much] larger patrol boat is currently without the proper registration papers, which are being processed in the bureaucracy of the Costa Rican government. So the rangers make do with this one.

After an oil addition, the engine roared to life, and we began the day’s patrol chugging out around the western head of the bay, heading south-west about a mile off the island’s coast. After passing the Dos Amigos, two prominent rock islets, we continued on our south-west course, veering south slightly, moving away from the island.

After about an hour on patrol, I spotted something some 50 yards to the starboard side of the patrol boat. Four buoys, painted gray, bobbing up and down among the waves. It took several pairs of eyes to confirm that the buoys were in fact there, for they blend in with the water, especially on a gray, rainy days like this one. The fishermen do this intentionally, to avoid detection of their lines.

Only when we had slowed to examine the bobbing objects to the starboard did we realize that we had in fact run over a line stretching several hundred yards along an east-west axis, not more than two miles from the island. Note that the Area de Conservacion Marina Isla Del Coco extends 12 miles out in all directions from Cocos Island. The line was well within the protected area - a gross violation. Hauled in hundreds of yards of line. A dozen buoys, painted a camouflage gray over there natural white and yellow. 44 hooks in total. Two Galapagos sharks and one ray ensnared. Dead.

Once the line was out of the water, and the hooks and buoys had been cut away, we set a southeast course. Around noon, something showed up on the radar that looked like a fishing boat, so we set a course for the red blip, and in the meantime, made ourselves ham and cheese sandwiches. By 1 pm, the boat was in sight. Out of Puntarenas, it was anchored in the rolling swells some nine miles from the island, and appeared abandoned at first pass. Guillermo radioed for the captain, and after several tries, a head emerged in the fishing boats wheelhouse. “Registration number, fishing license number, name and age of everyone on board” (All in Spanish). “You are aware that you are in Marine Protection Area? I’m going to have to ask you to leave”. And that was it. The fishing boat hauled up its anchor and set off into the haze of rain, and we turned back towards Wafer Bay, with all the incriminating evidence necessary to pursue justice for this violator of Costa Rica’s conservation laws.

Only there’s a catch. This criminal boat will not be brought to justice. There’s no reason to believe that the fisherman won’t be back next week or next month. No fine will be imposed. No license will be suspended. No equipment will be confiscated. Though I don’t fully comprehend the system yet, this is what I do know, passed on to me by rangers and other volunteers: no matter how many “tickets” the rangers write, the fisherman will never be required to pay the fine. The park staff has the power to confiscate boats, and equipment from fisherman found within the protected area; but, they must deliver the confiscated goods to San Jose within 24 hours of the violation if they wish to impose a sentence. It’s 36 hours by boat to the Costa Rican mainland, and another two hours at least from Puntarenas to San Jose. The laws are outdated, and are made by fishermen and the friends of fishermen, according to one ranger here. The system is deeply flawed, but the park rangers don’t carry enough weight in the Costa Rican government to change it.

Cocos Island: First Dive - Manuelita (Deep) - William Henriques

2011-09-25T21:05:00.001-07:00

Photo credit: Avi Klapfer
courtesy of The Undersea Hunter Group

I’m still reeling from my first dive at Cocos Island. Until yesterday, I had planned to take Sunday to hike to the peak of the island, Cerro Iglesias, but when Esteban, the park’s Acting Director, asked if I wanted to dive on Sunday, there was really no choice to be made. Which activity would your prefer? Diving, obviously.

Under textured gray skies, we took the park’s rubber launch out to Sea Hunter, anchored in the not-so-calm of Wafer Bay, where we picked up Jay Ireland and Georgienne Bradley (Sea Save’s own), who were to accompany us on this dive. Our destination: Manuelita, the largest of the satellite islets surrounding the island. Our dive site was on the western side of the islet, and is the deeper of the two dive sites around Manuelita.

Amidst the six to eight foot swells and the noise of water crashing against the rock in a spray of white foam, we strapped on our weight belts, double checked the quantity of air in the tanks before donning our dive vests, flippers and masks, and then before I could think twice about it, we had flipped over the side of the boat and were plunging down, down, down. 15 m. 20 m. 25 m. At 33 m. (110 ft) below the surface, we stopped. At this depth, the steep, rocky shelf of Manuelita meets with the sandy, downward-sloping plain of the ocean-bottom that disappears into a deep blue gloom. In between the rasp of inhaled air, and the stream of bubbles that comes with the exhale, there was an incredible calm, a profound stillness. Not silence, exactly. I could still hear the faint, distorted sounds of the sea. But what a contrast to the roiling surface 110 feet overhead! The feeling of calm penetrated deep into my mind and muscles. My body relaxed, breathing came easier.

In this peaceful state on the ocean-bottom, all traces of fear and tension were gone, and my mind was open to the wonders around me. When the first hammerhead shark appeared out of the gloom, it was not fear that paralyzed me, but wonder - giddy, innocent, child-like wonder. I was amazed by its bizarre, other-worldly, and beautiful shape. I was struck dumb by the powerful, elastic undulation with which it propelled itself. And then more came. Dozens of hammerheads, hazy shapes in the gloom, then closer and clearer, then silhouettes swimming overhead. Languidly drifting along now, then darting quickly to the right to nab some small, unseen fish. I’ve never seen anything like it.

As we slowly made our way along the shelf of Manuelita, away from the hammerheads, we saw rays, trumpet fish, urchins, white tip reef sharks, and myriads of fish for which I don’t know the name. But I could spent hours documenting the dozens of species. It was indescribable. Incredible.

The problem with diving is that the return to the surface is inevitable. It was with regret, and a pang of jealousy for those species lucky enough to dwell beneath the surface of the water, that I surfaced and climbed back into the boat. As we motored through the surf back to the Wafer Bay Station, I sat in silent awe of this place, of Cocos Island, and then this David Attenborough quote from my highschool environmental science teacher popped into my head:

“It seems to me that the natural world is the greatest source of excitement; the greatest source of visual beauty; the greatest source of intellectual interest. It is the greatest source of so much in life that makes life worth living.” - David Attenborough

And then the words of a good friend came to my mind, uttered after a near lightning strike and a mad dash for cover in a thunderstorm:

“God, what a great planet”

I couldn’t agree more.

A Day in the Life - Wafer Bay Ranger Station, Cocos Island - by William Henriques

2011-09-24T21:00:00.000-07:00

It’s the tail end of my tenth day in paradise, and I’m sitting in my six-bed, one-room, eight-by-twelve apartment in the Casa des Voluntarios, the sole occupant of this particular room, contemplating this blog. I’ve been asked to document my time here on the island with daily updates to Sea Save Foundation’s blog, but I’m not much of a blogging expert. I’ve never followed a blog, never commented on one outside of an English class, and certainly never been a contributor to one over an extended period of time. I’m in uncharted waters, as a sailor might say; or, in other words, it truly is my first time around this particular block. The reality of keeping a blog for 36 straight days sank in over my evening meal of rice and beans, but I’ve steeled myself, and I think I’m prepared to tackle this thing. I’ll do my best to keep any and all reading this entertained and well-informed.

It’s only 9 pm, early by my standard, but I’m beat, absolutely ready to hit the hay. Ben Franklin would be proud. Here on Cocos Island, we embody his oft-quoted words of wisdom, “Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.” Our days on the island begin with breakfast at 6:30 - rice, beans, and fresh fruit is the standard fare, with an accompanying cup of strong, Costa Rican coffee. By 7:30, the 15-20 people in residence at the Wafer Bay Ranger Station have gathered at the beach-side pavilion for a morning meeting. There are currently five funcionaires, six volunteers, a cook, two graduate students doing research, and three funcionaires from other Costa Rican national parks, here to see how this one works. Esteban, the head ranger here presently, outlines the day to the congregation, then we split into small groups to tackle the morning’s work.

This week, I’ve been working with Guillermo Hernandez, another volunteer from the Pacific coast of Costa Rica. Our task: landscaping and maintenance work around the station. We’ve raked the grounds clean of leaves, hacked up old palm stumps, and cleared the paths of fallen coconuts. We re-organized the scrap-shed, burned everything too small to use, and salvaged several old tools from the cobwebs of the shed’s back corner. Our prize find from this particular operation: A McCloud head, for which Guillermo found an elegant handle from a broken axe in another back corner.

Those of us around the station re-convene at noon for a glass of fresh juice and lunch, the backbone of which is rice and beans. The TV in the salon is usually on, playing the day’s news from the continent. The overhead fans whir, stirring the heavy, humid air ever so slightly, and conversation is slow and muted, no one wishing to disturb the peace of a midday break. But by 1 pm, everyone is hard at work again, until 4:30 pm or so, when there’s time for a brief period of relaxation and a shower before dinner - rice and beans - at 5:30 pm. After dinner, the salon slowly empties out, and by 8:00 pm, there’s not a soul around. The days work catches up with me quickly. One moment I’m full of the after dinner spunk and pep, ready to break out the books and brush up on all the new Spanish vocabulary I learned during the day, and the next moment, the fatigue has settled in to my muscles, my feet drag, and my eyelids are injected with the weight of anticipated sleep. Bed calls, and by 9:30 pm I’m fast asleep.

Cocos Island Intern - Making the World a Better Place - by William Henriques

2011-09-23T13:49:00.000-07:00

After completing all my university applications, I toyed with the idea of taking a year off from my traditional studies. I wanted to continue to grow, but outside the academic setting. I sent out a number of e-mails searching for options and invitations, and when I learned about Cocos Island, I was intrigued. An island 300 miles from any landmass, a historic pirate hideaway, with world-class diving and a unique biological niche: it sounded like a tropical paradise. As an avid biology student, I was excited at the thought of working in such a unique habitat. I imagined diving aquamarine waters surrounding the islands, hiking through the steamy rainforest, collecting data on the various species, monitoring the health of the ecosystem as a whole, and I was sold. I filed the paperwork, was accepted as a volunteer, bought the plane ticket, and began preparing for six weeks on one of the most remote places on earth. After a flight to San Jose, a drive to Punterenas, and 36 hours aboard the Undersea Hunter (where, as a park volunteer, I was asked to not "bother" the paying guests.) I arrived at Isla de Cocos.

As it turns out, I'm not diving the reefs or trekking over the island's steep terrain, and there is none of my imagined data collection and ecosystem health monitoring. As a volunteer, my duties are much more quotidian. I've painted the shop floor, cleaned out a storage shed, helped the cooks in the kitchen, and done a good deal of landscaping work with a rake and machete. These tasks don't require much in the way of thinking, and I've had plenty of time to reflect, build relationships with the funcionaires and other volunteers, and learn Spanish, poco á poco, as they say. The things that seemed all-encompassing to me in high school year have been put in perspective; all my college and career worries have simply melted away here on the island.

In Costa Rica, they have an expression, Pura Vida!, that used in any way possible. It's meaning - directly translated - is Pure Life. But it means life's good, no complaints, couldn't be happier - like the Lion King's infamous Hakuna Matata. I've basked in the word, absorbed the Pura Vida! lifestyle like a sponge. It pervades the Cocos atmosphere. My companions here on the island are hard-working, jovial, and good-natured. And despite their busy days, they always have time to lend each other a hand, to tell a story or joke, or quiz me on my Spanish.

I've also gained a new outlook on conservation while here. Or, to more accurately describe it, a nagging suspicion that I've had about conservation philosophy has solidified into a conviction, a belief. And as much as it is a conservation belief, it's more of a lifestyle belief: Each individual has a niche in the ecosystem surrounding them, each individual has a role to fulfill in that ecological niche. One of the rangers I work with, Guillermo, epitomizes what I'm talking about. When I first arrived, everyone told me that if I wanted to know more about the island, I should ask Guillermo, he knows more about the island than anyone. So I asked him questions in broken Spanish, talked with him about the island's history and ecology, and I watched him work. I've watched him care for the island, watched him move through the space with respect and intention. He's the quintessential steward, a keystone in the Cocos Island ecosystem around the station, maintaining a balance in the interactions between the human and natural world here in Wafer Bay.

Guillermo has found his niche, has committed himself to the stewardship of Cocos Island. But what I'm getting at, what I've discovered while I'm here, is this: I've got to find my own niche. We all have to find our own niches, to immerse ourselves in them, to care for them. As important as an education, a career, and success might seem, what is more important is the land on which we live. We need to act as stewards of the land, to facilitate, rather than impede, the growth and development of the ecosystem of which we are a part. I'm convinced that if everyone did so, the world would be a healthier place, a better place.

William Henriques
United States Citizen
Age - 18 years
Cocos Island Volunteer
Sea Save Foundation

William will be joining the Sea Save team as our newest intern and will be reporting from Cocos Island though the beginning of November

Shortage of funding and materials make it important to be creative here at Cocos Island.

2011-09-23T13:03:00.000-07:00

This is a tool being created by Sea Save Foundation Jay Ireland , on Cocos Island. Shortage of funding and materials make it important to be creative. This will help with the future collection of fishing line around the island!

Park guards need to patrol the waters around Cocos Island. This is a Costa Rica National Park and a World Heritage Site, nonetheless it is under siege and there are typically 10 - 20 fishing boats with miles and miles of fishing line cruising for one of the only remaining shark sanctuaries every night.

We have been trying to "fix" the system and help Cocos for the last 20 years. We are now taking matters into our own hands. We are working with the park guards, analyzing their needs.

Cocos Island Trip Report - September 8 - 20 by Georgienne Bradley

2011-09-23T08:49:00.000-07:00

Mostly cloudy at the beginning of the week, but then the sun came out and we had beautiful weather for the majority of the trip.

Hammerheads stole the show this week, but we had fantastic Galapagos shark sightings at Punta Maria, Manuelita Channel, and Dirty Rock.

Two Tiger Sharks were spotted in Manuelita Outside, which combined with the huge school of Hammerhead, made the dive one of the best on this trip.

We also saw Silky shark at Dirty Rock and Alcyone .

The big schools of Hundreds of Hammerheads were seen at Punta Maria, Alcyone, and Dirty Rock.

As always the Sea Hunter crew was fantastic present the perfect balance of professionalism and attentiveness to passenger needs. The guest list was perfect. Everyone who joined us on this trip was upbeat and will remain great friends!

Cocos Island Park Guards and volunteers came to the rescue of some more sea turtles today.

2011-09-22T23:27:00.000-07:00

Sea turtle entangled by illegal fishing line is lifted by Cocos Island Park Guard from the water. Entangled fishing line can be seen in the water.

Turtle is found to be emaciated. Unable to swim easily, or dive for food. The animal has lost over 50% of its body weight. Park guards work to remove net from the animal.

Cocos Island Park Guards and volunteers continue to save marine life such as turtles and sharks being caught in illegal poachers fishing line around Cocos Island.

Dedicated Passion

2011-09-22T16:32:00.000-07:00

Photo credit: Georgienne Bradley

This self illustrated tatoo is a work in progress. Using his back as his screen, this Cocos Island park guard continues to add key features and inhabitants to his Cocos Island body mural. Tiger sharks, hammerheads, Manuelita, booby birds and a pirate ship are dominant elements of this body art!

Reflections from Cocos Island National Park Guard Esteban Herrera Herrera

2011-09-22T08:07:00.000-07:00

Wake up, open your eyes and know that you are in a special place. You are more than more than 500 miles from the nearest road. Here you are protected from the issues on the nightly news and your only concern is to complete your work and to navigate through the challenges of the day until once again you reconvene with co-workers at dinner.

We are tired after a day of heavy rain, of arduous patrols on steep hills, but we are satisfied and happy that we are protecting our home.

While patrolling the island, I sit on a boat and watch the sharks swim and schools of fish quiet swim alongside. I am gazing into a completely different world, with other sounds, it evokes deep feelings and I feel privileged. I think of my family so far away, but also know I am always among family when I'm here.

In the afternoon I walk through majestic trees, mossy, and I feel the humidity. I inhale deeply and feel the purity of isolation; I put my feet where few people have been before. The pristine waterfall crashes and the birds greet us.

I am absolutely certain that this island is alive. She breathes, and becomes more beautiful everyday.

Today is just another day. We have many wonders to protect and this great responsibility rests on the shoulders of a few. I am proud to say I work here, I am proud to say my heart resides here and I am proud to say I am a ranger of Cocos Island National Park.

Despertar, abrir los ojos y saber que eres uno de los pocos en un lugar a más de 500 kilómetros de la carretera más cercana, para que ver el noticiero si lo importante está aquí y la única preocupación es cumplir el trabajo y esperar reunirnos a la cena todos a salvo de los peligros del día, cansados, tras de un día de fuertes lluvias, de un mar incesante y poderoso que merece respeto o tras largas caminatas por empinados cerros, no parece un trabajo, es más una familia manteniendo su casa lo mejor posible, no es solo nuestra por eso se debe cuidar, quienes nos visitan , dueños también, deben quedar satisfechos con nuestro quehacer.

Otro día más, sentado en un bote observando los tiburones nadando tranquilos junto cardúmenes de peces, parece un imposible ver esto desde la superficie, dar la espalda al mar una exhalación y dejarse ir a un mundo totalmente diferente, con otro sonido, adentrarse en las profundidades sintiéndose privilegiado de poder echar un vistazo al pasado un día cualquiera, así eran los mares hace tantos años, pero yo lo veo hoy, lo disfruto y pienso en tantas personas que desconocen de este lugar aun siendo dueños del mismo. Pienso en mi familia tan lejana, pero recuerdo que siempre me encuentro entre familia cuando estoy aquí.

Y en la tarde caminando entre arboles majestuosos, llenos de musgo, sintiendo la humedad, inhalando fuerte la pureza del aislamiento, poniendo lo pies donde pocas personas los han puesto, tomando agua en nacientes sin nombre, viendo cataratas tal vez nunca vistas, con los pájaros saludando cerca nuestro, escuchando el mar cuando nos acercamos a los acantilados que bañan de agua dulce la inmensidad del Pacifico, tal vez parece irreal, que este pequeño punto tan lejano este tan lleno de vida, tengo la total seguridad que esta Isla está viva, respira, su sangre fluye y todo lo bueno e impresionante se vuelve cotidiano en la Isla más bella del mundo. Es solo un día más, muchas maravillas que proteger mucha responsabilidad sobre pocos, pero todos orgullosos de poder decir yo trabajo aquí, aquí está mi corazón y cuando la dañan me dañan a mí, soy guardaparques y trabajo en el Parque Nacional Isla del Coco.

Esteban Herrera Herrera

Parque Nacional Isla del Coco

Cocos Island - Pulling Back the Veil

2011-09-21T22:05:00.000-07:00

Dear Cocos Supporters,

Cocos Island presents us with a paradox. We love the fact that it has been spared development and that the landscape remains pristine. The same isolation that has protected Cocos Island also makes it very difficult to protect her from poaching.

Park guards and other volunteers have been criticized for not keeping the poachers at bay. Sea Save Foundation members are privileged to have been given the opportunity to live and work with the Cocos Island park family once again. We are reporting on the beauty of the island and the challenges facing her.

If you are interested in seeing what goes on behind the scenes, please check in on our blog over the next few days and please be sure to share it with your friends!

Georgienne Bradley
Sea Save Foundation
Reporting from Cocos Island - World Heritage Site

Holy Spirit Tern

2011-09-20T16:26:00.000-07:00

Cocos Island has a soul. The spirituality of this World Heritage site pours from her waterfalls, sings in her forest and resounds in the vistas found surrounding the pristine island.

The symbolic holy spirit tern is just one of many magic animals you will find on the island. This delicate white bird will fly to you and unafraid, flutter inches above your head. Spectacular. Please share the following experience we captured on an iphone on the second day of our 2011 stay on Cocos Island.

"The White Tern (Gygis alba) is a small seabird ound across the tropical oceans of the world. It is sometimes known as the Fairy Tern and a Holy Spirit Tern for its practice of fluttering above the heads of hikers. Other names for the species include Angel Tern and White Noddy. The White Tern has 3-4 subspecies: the nominate race G. a. alba, G. a. leucopes, the Pacific White Tern (G. a. candida). The White Tern is a small, all white tern with a long black bill, related to the noddies. It ranges widely across the Pacific and Indian Oceans, and also nests in some Atlantic islands. It nests on coral islands, usually on trees with thin branches but also on rocky ledges and on man-made structures. The White Tern feeds on small fish which it catches by plunge diving.

This small tern is famous for laying its egg on bare thin branches in a small fork or depression without a nest. It is thought that the reason for the absence of nests is the reduction in nest parasites which in some colonial seabirds can cause the abandonment of an entire colony. In spite of these benefits there are costs associated with tree nesting, as the eggs and chicks are vulnerable to becoming dislodged by heavy winds. For this reason the White Tern is also quick to relay should they lose the egg. The newly hatched chicks have well developed feet to hang on to their precarious nesting site with. It is a long-lived bird, having been recorded living for 17 years."

Courtesy Wikipedia

Cocos Island Essay

2011-09-20T13:59:00.000-07:00

Multiple countries around the world have monument that represent their glory; France with the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triumph, Egypt has its pyramids and Sphinx, the United States is represented by the Statue of Liberty, China with its Great Wall. These countries have large constructs that attract the eye of the world.

But something that most Costa Rica, do not know that we have a natural monument of international import. Our country is represented by a remote island, full of life

Yet it is Costa Rican fishermen who threaten the beauty of this island. These fisherman poach this protected monument so they can send their harvest that will end in a dish in an Asian country for them to enjoy and as a result we will loose our treasure.

Cocos Island embodies what many presidents have showcased as a Costa Rica treasure at many conferences. They say that we are a conservationist, democracy and we have no army. But, what is not said is that we do not have adequate laws or resources to protect our treasure. Other countries who do have military, can use their helicopters, warships, planes and weapons to protect their natural resources.

What good are our protected areas is we do not have the infrastructure and the means to keep them secure? Despite this, we work diligently to protect this natural monument and World Heritage Site, and to keep alive the dream of former President Rodrigo Carazo to protect this unparallel place.

Moisés Gómez V.
Coco Island National Park

Varios países al rededor del mundo tienen un monumento que los representa, Francia con la Torre Eiffel y el arco del triunfo, Egipto con sus Pirámides y la esfinge, Estados Unidos con la estatua de la libertad y el Golden Gate, Dubai con impresionantes Hoteles y Malls, China con su gran Muralla y muchos mas por mencionar, que han tenido que hacer grandes edificaciones para atraer la vista del mundo. Sin embargo algo que la mayoría de ticos y su Gobierno que es el principal propulsor de que se conozca esto, no saben que tenemos un monumento natural de importancia internacional, que nos representa con una Isla llena de vida, no hecha por el hombre si no para los hombres para que disfruten de su belleza. Y a pesar de esto son los mismos pescadores costarricenses que insisten en llevarse gran parte de la belleza de esta Isla para que termine en un plato en un país Asiático para que ellos vivan mejor y nosotros tengamos menos, pero las Leyes de este país se los permite por que no se han dado cuenta del Tesoro que poseemos y que es la mejor publicidad que tenemos en el mundo y refleja lo que realmente han hablado tantos expresidentes en diferentes conferencias, diciendo que somos un país conservacionista, democrático y sin ejercito, pero como es que un país que predica no tener ejercito y protege el medio ambiente no tiene recursos para un barco adecuado para patrullar y proteger nuestro tesoro, mientras que otros países que si tienen ejercito, tienen helicópteros, barcos de guerra, aviones y armas y lo pueden mantener. Se crean más Áreas protegidas pero no dan recursos para protegerlos. A pesar de esto y todas las complicaciones, trabajamos para proteger este Monumento Natural y Patrimonio de la Humanidad, para que prevalezca viva la idea del Expresidente Rodrigo Carazo con su idea de protegerla declarándola

Moisés Gómez V.
Parque Nacional Isla del Coco

Cocos Island 2011 - Arrival

2011-09-20T08:41:00.000-07:00

I moved into the park guard station on Cocos Island, Costa Rica yesterday night. My room is sparse and my roommates were a battalion of mosquitoes and several spiders the size of my palm.

One insisted on perching on the leg of my bed. This made me nervous and I tried to encourage him to move to the floor. He disagreed and was more stubborn than myself. I finally admitted defeat and in the AM found him in the same position. He later disappeared... as all the spiders do during the light of day.. I am hoping to beg or borrow a mosquito net today and have a sounder quality of sleep tomorrow.

Mosquitoes and spiders to the side, this island is magnifico! It is the crown jewel in the Costa Rica National Park network and is one of the final places we find healthy numbers of large marine animals on earth today. It is the largest uninhabited island in the world (while I am staying here now... there are no permanent residents, only short term caretakers who rotate in and out)

With over 300 waterfalls visible as you circumnavigate the island and with, steep, lush, emerald walls that plummet hundreds of feet into crashing waves, the vista appears to be a Tolkien concoction of Middle Earth with Elfinkind fairies not far away. White Holy Spirit Terns air dance and brown and red-footed boobies dive into the sea as they hunt for unsuspecting fish.

Visiting Cocos Island on the heels of realizing the AB 376 success (California anti-finning bill) has special meaning. The surrounding waters boast huge schools of scalloped hammerheads, white-tip sharks by the hundreds, fat-and-happy Galapagos and Silky sharks, dolphin, turtles and myriad other animals. Also in large numbers are the poaching vessels that dot the horizon... Some blatantly casting their lines only a mile from the ranger station. We need to pull international attention to this problem.

Shark Deaths Throwing Off Ocean Balance by Georgienne Bradley

2011-07-29T11:06:00.000-07:00

An ocean devoid of life is a difficult concept to digest, but we are heading in that direction. We are currently deconstructing the foundation of the intricately balanced web that supports all marine life. From microscopic plankton to the largest blue whale, they all depend upon the continuation of a mathematical equation, a system of checks and balances that insure the survival of each species.

If there is even a minor quantity change in any member species, it upsets the universal balance. A species removed from the system results in an accumulation of their food source and starvation of their predators. This event then effects the next species predator/prey and so on.

So what happens when an entire super-order of fish, is removed from the oceans on a global scale? This is happening now. According to a recent Pew Foundation study, sharks are being removed from the ocean at a rate of about 100,000,000 annually. This is unsustainable for sharks and is having a decimating effect on the world’s fisheries and the health of all marine ecosystems. When an apex predator is removed from a community, sick animals are left to spread disease, the food source of the prey species cannot support the newly expanded population. When the food disappears, the consumers starve to death.

Exact estimates conflict, but all studies agree that human are heavily dependent upon the oceans for their food. The Pew Foundation also reports that over 80% of large ocean mega-fauna has disappeared in the last twenty years. If this trend continues, we will be facing an escalating amount of human starvation at a time when our oceans may not be able to recover.

Right now there is a pivotal bill in the California Senate that would ban shark fins from the entire state. Currently sharks are being finned primarily for the value of their fins which are then used in a soup symbolizing celebration and success. This bill will not only help by preventing interstate fin sales, but it will influence the entire market thought the Americas because California is the port of choice for the fin trade. Forcing finners to use other ports will make this wasteful practice much less profitable and therefore less appealing. Please join us in promoting this legislation, by signing our petition, and or helping us spread the word about this August 15^th vote.

Send us your old cellphones and ink cartridges!

2011-06-30T10:20:00.000-07:00

Hey there fellow Sea Savers!

Want to help Sea Save Foundation continue it's efforts to help support AB 376, to bill to help ban shark finning in California?

We are not asking you to reach into your pockets just your junk drawer or dust off an old box where your old and unused cell phones and ink cartridges are living a sad and lonely existence.

You probably got your new snazzy iPhone and tossed that old and what you deemed, "so 2010" phone into a box or drawer.

We will be re-posting this message throughout the year to remind you where you can help support our efforts and send these unused and unwanted phones & cartridges.

Send to:
Sea Save Foundation
22631 Pacific Coast Highway #110
Malibu, California 90265

Thank you!
Sea Save Foundation

Portion of Interview from Anonymous Member of California Senate Staff

2011-06-29T18:32:00.000-07:00

"Shark fins caught from other countries come via California to Hong Kong. This bill would shut that down. I believe that this impact will be even greater that just the shutting down than the actual California retail sales.

This was an unusual hearing. Every committee member made a statement about the bill. Each weighed in with their support or concern. Many members felt that if this bill does not have a significant wide reaching impact it was not worth risking the appearance that we are insensitive to the culture of a segment of our population.

If passing the bill will have an impact, then more people will vote for the bill. We need to convince committee members that this will cause a major impact to the global shark market.

The other primary concern is the issue of exemption allowance. Currently, you can possess a shark fin if you are a licensed fisherman and you caught that shark yourself. There was concern that not allowing that fisherman to sell this fin, would be unfair.

Honestly, there are relatively few sharks legally caught in the United State for the fin trade. So this debate may be mute, since the numbers are insignificant.

How to resolve this conflict is difficult. Opponents and supporters alike, will say this will be difficult to control. It undermines the general conservation basis of this bill. If you allow any finning, you open up the flow of legal and illegal fins to the global market. Putting an unreasonable stress on shark populations.

So, if opponents want some exemptions, and we could establish a chain of command, how could we figure out where a specific shark fin came from? Supporters of this bill do not want to allow for exemptions or amendments because this loophole would be too large and too costly to be practical.

As a state this means our Fish and Game would have to have an international presence to make sure that a fin was properly tagged wherever it was caught. The entire process is cumbersome as it changes hands and this tag could get tampered or altered with.

There is no fee in this bill, so there is no way our Fish and Game Department can afford to take on this extra and daunting obligation. They are underfunded and there is no way this can happen.

Any amendment will have to be okayed by the author’s office and I do not think that will happen, nor do I think there is any reason why it should. People need to raise concerns about potential amendments.

The author almost always has the ability to say “yes” or “no” on an amendment. Now if they will not incorporate an amendment, the committee could decide not to vote for a bill.. So there is often negotiation here.

As for the next step, Appropriations, and I am pretty sure it will need to go to Appropriations due to the cost of policing this bill… . The chair of Appropriates sits on the Natural Resources Committee and she gave a pretty strong statement in the last hearing that she was going to support the bill…."

Reported to

Georgienne Bradley
Sea Save Foundation

SCUBA Diving Magazine "Trashed" by Georgienne Bradley

2011-06-27T17:20:00.000-07:00

Cali"Fin"Negation - Let's pass AB-376. No Shark Fins in California!

2011-06-27T10:35:00.000-07:00

Just a quick update about California bill AB-376. The bill has successfully passed through the assembly and now is in the California State Senate. The bill is in the Natural Resources and Water Committee and the buzz is that there are supporters and opponents hashing it out.
Members of the senate committee will vote tomorrow to see if the bill proceeds to the next level.
Usually the next level would mean moving to the Appropriations Committee where the financial impact of the bill would be accessed. While this cannot be confirmed, until after the bill has been completely discussed in the Natural Resources and Water Committee, the financial ramifications of this law will be so minimal that it may skip this committee requirement altogether.

It will then proceed to the entire senate where it will wait a scheduled date for possible debate, discussion and a final senate vote.
Please check our Facebook Cali"Fin"Negation Project Page to learn what you can do to help make sure this bill passes. http://www.causes.com/campaigns/158657?cause_id=119165

All Aboard! Introducing the newest addition to Sea Save, Nicole DeRosa

2011-06-16T21:51:00.001-07:00

Aloha fellow Sea Savers!

My name is Nicole DeRosa, and I just wanted to drop by our blog to say hello and introduce myself. : )

I am super excited being apart of the Sea Save family and could not be happier, teaming up with some pretty amazing people like Georgienne Bradley, Jay Ireland and all of our amazing volunteers. I am blown away by their passion, dedication and talent.

I can't wait to get up every morning, drive along Pacific Coast Highway, windows rolled down, music playing, salt water misting through the air, surfers unloading their cars ready to glide on morning waves. I feel very lucky to be able to live so close to the ocean and feel it's strength, it's ebb and flow, and especially seeing the amazing creatures that pop their heads and fins out to say hello gives me so much joy and leaves a permanent smile on my face every day. : )

I feel very fortunate to be able to help give our ocean friends a voice and also be an echo for the Ocean as well, as it too needs our help just the same.

Sea Save is currently developing lots of fun and exciting projects. We will be relaunching our new website soon and working on a super awesomely bombastic photo database with mind blowing pictures of Miss. Georgienne and other divers doing research from their expeditions all over the world. We have some more cool media productions and can't wait to tell you more as things come together.

Today, we have been feverishly working on editing some videos that we will be uploading shortly on why we think you should support AB-376 the ban of shark finning here in California. This is a ridiculous practice and I think the videos you will see....and may have already seen documenting this most inhumane practice will support your decision on helping to give our shark friends a voice.

Sharks can be scary, but more often then not they are just doing their thing, cruising the waters and all of a sudden there are poachers who, take their shiny knives to their fins, sometimes, as the sharks are still alive and cut off their fins and tails for the uber ridiculously pricey, shark fin soup. I just discovered how much of a big business this is and how out of control it has become. It is really sad and troubling to me.

Most environmentalists and many Asian-Americans would tell you, healthy oceans need a thriving shark population. More than 70 million sharks are killed every year through finning, a brutal process where fishermen slice off the fish's fins and tails, then throw them back into the water to bleed, starve, or suffocate to death. More than one-third of shark species are currently threatened with extinction. Not only does finning and the demand for shark fin soup decrease

shark populations, it threatens to throw entire ecosystems out of whack. Sharks are apex predators that sit at the top of oceanic food chains - decrease their populations too significantly and the entire ecosystem can crumble. The health of oceans and sharks themselves hinges on the passage of AB 376. In the coming days we will keep you posted on where the bill is at with the Senate so you can be more informed and how you can use your voice to help!

It's almost sunset so I am going to take off, but I'm looking forward to interacting and blogging with all of you who follow us and wish to be part of the Sea Save family!

Best Fishes!

xx,

Nicole

When Garbage Doesn't Die

2010-06-11T09:29:00.000-07:00

When Garbage Doesn't Die

By Georgienne Bradley

How plastic debris is contaminating the world's oceans.

Editor's Note: Water Planet is an open forum for leading nonprofit marine conservation groups and advocates to sound off on environmental issues. Opinions expressed here are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of Divers Alert Network®.

Continental masses cause ocean currents to develop circular patterns, known as gyres, in each of the three major ocean basins. The North Pacific Gyre, formed by the southern currents off the coast of North America and the northern currents off the coast of Asia, is the world's largest.

As increasing amounts of plastic trash and debris find their way to sea, this natural phenomenon has become an area of concern. Over time, all floating waste from land migrates to gyres, where it remains trapped — out of sight, out of mind, but not without adverse environmental consequences. The North Pacific Gyre is home to what many are now calling the Eastern Pacific Garbage Patch, a concentration of plastic debris estimated to be 30 feet deep and spread out over an area twice the size of Texas.

The problem: Plastics don't break down naturally. Instead, they undergo a process of photodegradation, in which sunlight causes the material to disintegrate into increasingly smaller pieces. Water samples taken from the garbage patch show stratified layers of plastic bits, including a cloudy mass of plankton-sized particles. "The gyre contains plastic in all states of degradation," says Capt. Charles Moore, who first discovered the problem. "It all combines in a sort of soup."

His was a rude awakening back in 1997. During a yacht race from Southern California to Hawaii, Moore veered off a normal heading and saw an ocean he barely recognized. He notes that within the gyre, "Every time I came on deck to survey the horizon, I saw a soap bottle, bottle cap or a shard of plastic waste bobbing by. Here I was in the middle of the ocean, and there was nowhere I could go to avoid the plastic."

It was his personal wake-up call, and the Algalita Marine Research Foundation was born to address the perils of plastics pollution. His operational premise: "Industries reaping large profits from the creation of these plastic materials should be tasked with the challenge of recycling."

While large pieces of plastic debris are a well-documented threat to sea birds and turtles, the new concern is what is happening beneath the water's surface. Researchers worry that marine animals are mistaking the smallest plastic bits for plankton. As they ingest the plastic, the fear is that these polypeptides are working their way up the food chain. As a result, they may even be finding their way to our dinner tables in the tissue of tuna, mahi mahi and other culinary favorites. Early research suggests that degraded plastics create chemicals that mimic estradiol (a sex hormone). Agents such as bisphenol A, commonly abbreviated as BPA, and a whole gamut of other harmful synthetic polymers contained in plastics have been shown to interfere with critical aspects of metabolic activity in humans.

Challenges to cleaning up the growing mass of plastics in the world's oceans are many, including the great distance from land, the nebulous nature of this slurry and seasonal rough seas. Despite these setbacks, scientists and environmental groups have proposed a variety of solutions. An obvious solution in the minds of some environmentalists is banning disposable plastic bags and creating awareness about superfluous packaging.

"The best way to stop this problem is to refuse plastics when offered," says Daniella Russo, executive director and co-founder of the Plastic Pollution Coalition (PPC). In the end, there are those tasked with cleaning up this mess of epic proportions, and to that we have to look to governmental agencies like the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) to take the lead.

There is also the more strategic and personal means of proactive resolution. We have to collectively reduce our "plastic footprint." We know that from looking at our landfills. Now we know that from sailing our seas.

What Divers Can Do

Left to right: James Leichter, Miriam Goldstein and Doug Woodring display the debris recovered during Project Kaisei’s SEAPLEX expedition to the Eastern Pacific
Garbage Patch.

The magnitude of the plastic problem may leave many divers feeling helpless; however, small steps to reduce plastic waste do help. Here are some tips:

Switch bags
Make plastic use a conscious decision. Look around: Everything from apples to CDs to individual slices of cheese comes wrapped in plastic. Whenever possible, choose plastic alternatives or reusable options; that includes paper bags and reusable cloth grocery bags. Unless absolutely necessary, skip the plastic produce bags. If you must use a disposable plastic item, make sure you recycle the plastic. Many grocery stores have a recycling bin for plastic bags.

Replace bottles
Bring your own aluminum or steel water bottle to the office, gym or when you travel. If you do need to purchase bottled water, be sure to recycle the bottle.

Request a "for-here" cup
Coffee bars are usually set up to dispense your java in paper cups with plastic lids. If you're not on the run, ask that yours be served in a ceramic mug. If you are on the run, bring your own reusable mug.

Get involved
Educate yourself, and share what you learn with friends, starting with your own tips on how to reduce plastic waste. Post your ideas here. Sign up to receive more information about our oceans, and opportunities to help at:

Imaging Foundation - Sea Save.

and

Join Imaging Foundation Facebook Page and Causes

Who’s Doing What?

PLASTIC Pollution Coalition
The coalition provides a platform for individuals and institutions to share resources and coordinate efforts, explore synergies and strategize together to reduce plastic pollution.
Visit: plasticpollutioncoalition for more information.

Algalita Marine Research Foundation
Capt. Charles Moore, the man credited with discovering the Eastern Pacific Garbage Patch, founded the Algalita Marine Research Foundation with the goal of protecting the marine environment through research and education. The foundation has released an educational DVD series titled The Synthetic Sea Story; it traces the history of research on plastic debris in the world's oceans. Visit http://www.algalita.org/index.php Algalita Web Site for more information.

NOAA
Focused on removal operations, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) is working to use oceanographic information to help predict the areas of convergence where debris likely concentrates. A better understanding of these processes will provide enough confidence forcost-effective, successful cleanup efforts. For additional information visit NOAA.

Dive Into Your Imagination
Dive Into Your Imagination is changing the way a new generation views oceans. During a recent SEAPLEX expedition for Project Kaisei, founder Annie Crawley helped document the North Pacific Gyre and has created an excellent online blog on the science of the garbage patch.
Visit Dive into Your Imagination for more information.

Slavery and Shark Finning - Diabolical Partnership

2010-06-06T08:36:00.000-07:00

Costa Rica has announced it will prosecute the owners of two Taiwanese fishing vessels from which they rescued 36 Asian crew members, including 15 Vietnamese, from slavery last month. The information was posted online by the Overseas Labor Administration of Vietnam’s Ministry of Labor, War Invalids and Social Affairs, which was quoting a statement from the Vietnamese embassy in Panama on Friday.

The embassy says it has completed the procedures for repatriating the 15 Vietnamese sailors as well as six compatriots who had fled from the boats off the city of Puntarenas last May. The six escapees had done menial work onshore until this March, when they’d asked the local authorities to get word of their and the fellows’ plight. They said they had worked in harsh conditions on the Yulon 70 since April 14 last year.

After the complaint was lodged, police raided the two boats and rescued the enslaved Vietnamese, Indonesian, Filipino, Taiwanese and Chinese fishermen. San Jose officials said the crewmen had been forced to work 20 hours a day, and had often been starved and beaten.

The men said they’d been promised US$250 a month in their employment contracts, of which they would keep $20 and the rest would be sent to their families, but they had received nothing.

FROM THANH NEIN NEWS

Two New Shrimp Discovered at Cocos Island

2010-06-01T10:11:00.000-07:00

Two new species of transparent mini-shrimp were discovered by scientists at the University of Costa Rica (UCR) in the waters off Cocos Island, 532 km from Puntarenas. These microscopic organisms-only 1.5 millimeters long, are at the base of the food chain of marine ecosystems. Both belong to a subclass of animals called copepods.
Alvaro Morales, the Center for Research in Marine Sciences and Limnology (Cimar) at UCR, said: “Copepods are microscopic but vital in the ocean.” The specialist explained that the larvae of commercially important species such as sardines, snappers and sea bass, and echinoderms-starfish-and even whales feed on copepods. “Without them, the oceans would be sick”.

The first discovered species of shrimp was called Symbazoma Cocoense . This crustacean measures just 1.4 mm long (similar to the thickness of a coin) and at its widest part measures 0.3 millimeters. “It’s a reef mini0shrimp rather elongated with two short antennae,” explained Morales, who studied females of this species in the CIMAR.

The species Cymbasoma cocoense is also characterized by having a carapace. This means that the chest and head are fused into one piece, that’s where you put the two eyes.
Having two eyes appears to be a novelty, but in fact it is because it is not common in this subclass. “There are many individuals of these species that have no eyes or have only one of them,” said the UCR specialist.

The carapace is also where the legs are attached. These tips are those that give the appearance of shrimp, such as those commonly known. The second species that was discovered was Monstrillopsis . Only adult male animals were analyzed. “This the first time that this genus of marine animals (Monstrillopsis) has been recorded in the country,” concluded the researcher. The animal is even smaller than the one described above, but it has long antennae. It measures 1.4 millimeters in length and about 0.2 millimeters at its widest part. “This species is less transparent or translucent than the other, which could be associated with different habits of life among them,” said Morales.
According to the biologist, this is likely to be because the coral colony inhabited by the species is darker, which means the animal needs to “get” darker to blend with the environment and at least make it difficult for attacks on their predators.

Like the previous species, this also has cephalothorax. Experts estimate that the life cycle of both animals and copepods is very short and lasts, at most, about 30 days.
by ALEJANDRA VARGAS M