Category: Alaska

On Sunday, June 12, I awoke early, excited for my first ride on a float plane. We were headed for Shuyak Island State Park to collect marine debris using sea kayaks. Shuyak Island is the northernmost island in the Kodiak Archipelago, and the winds and currents of the Gulf of Alaska deposit tons of marine debris on its shores each year. Tom Pogson of the Island Trails Network received a grant from NOAA Marine Debris Program, and months ago, we had applied to participate in this great adventure—paddling in Alaska, float planes, abundant wildlife, and a chance to give back to a sport we love. How could any of us pass up this opportunity?

Our team of five had arrived in Kodiak several days early in case Kodiak’s notoriously changeable weather went bad. Dawn, Kevin, and I knew each other from previous kayak trips, and we met Fiona and Kate  at Kodiak Island Brewery the night before. Fortunately. Sunday’s weather was clear and beautiful, and the pilot gave us a tour the land and water between Kodiak and Shuyak. Soon after we arrived, a mama brown bear and her two cubs sauntered down the beach and then up the hiking trail. After sorting out our tents, boats, and gear we paddled out around Eagle Point into the Gulf of Alaska, then surfed the swell home.

Over the next two weeks, we tackled Gulf-facing beaches as well as the protected shores inside Big Bay—the wind and swell determined our daily destinations. Big surf landings onto rocky shores would have been dangerous for both boats and bodies, and we knew that any rescue situation would be difficult and hazardous. An accident that might be a minor inconvenience in highly populated Florida could be life-threatening in remote Alaska.

We spent several days cleaning Dead Bird Beach, a two-mile stretch that faced southwest. In addition to a variety of small skeletons (hence the name), Dead Bird Beach was littered with plastics, ropes, and nets. The large plastic objects and buoys were easy to spot, while the nets and smaller plastics blended into the sand, rocks, and wood. Some objects were immediately identifiable—water bottles, fishing lures, and fly swatters. A Wal-Mart shipment of fly swatters and mini-basketballs marked with team logos had fallen off a cargo ship several years prior. Other materials less so, such as the Japanese fishing baskets and bait buckets carried by the tsunami. We learned that light items such as water bottles are driven by the wind while heavier items such as baskets float just under the surface and drift with currents rather than wind.

We removed approximately eight super sacks of debris from Dead Bird Beach, and Tom will collect the bags later this summer with a landing craft. (Super sacks are woven polypropylene bags, approximately 3′ x 3′ x 3′.) We labelled each bag with the appropriate two-mile segment, and NOAA and the Island Trails Network will analyze this data in the fall.

After a week, the winds shifted and intensified, so we moved to the calmer waters of the bay. We worked in teams of two which was sometimes creepy given the possibilities of bears. As we walked along the beaches, we sang out “Hey bear, Hey bear”, the best response being no response. At first glance, these inland shores seemed much cleaner, but we discovered how well the sand and logs camouflaged nets and ropes. In addition to being unsightly, nets pose a hazard to marine mammals, like seals, otters and whales.

Tom warned us about the amounts of debris we would find on Shuyak Island, but it still surprised me that we found over ten thousand pounds of ropes, nets, and plastics in two weeks. No one lives there, and the island receives few visitors, so all the debris comes from somewhere else. I recalled reading Religious Studies scholar Kimberley Patton’s book The Sea Can Wash Away All Evils: Modern Marine Pollution and the Ancient Cathartic Ocean in which she explores the longtime human habit of throwing our waste into the sea. Perhaps it mattered less two thousand years ago, before people owned so much stuff.

Last February, I participated in Exxpedition, a sailing voyage on the 72′ Sea Dragon, assisting scientists investigating how disintegrating plastics disrupt the endocrine system. Exploring Shuyak Island in a 16′ kayak offered a different perspective, and I learned how larger plastics and debris migrate with wind and current. Nonetheless, the marine debris in both Alaska and the Caribbean primarily comes from somewhere else until it reaches that magical place called away.

On a cold rainy Sunday morning, the float plane brought our crew back to Kodiak and flew a new crew. As we flew away, I looked back at the super sacks on the beach and thought about what we had done. Overall, the trip gave me a terrific opportunity to spend time camping and paddling on a remote island in Alaska and to meet others who share these interests. But my experiences in the Caribbean and in Alaska have made me even more concerned about threats to our water, especially those at home in Florida. Perhaps, at one time, the sea washed away all evils, but today, the garbage we throw in the water comes back to haunt us.

Boat repair kit — check. First aid kit — check. Three days until Kevin and I leave for six weeks of kayaking, camping, and trash hauling in southwest Alaska. Packing and logistics are complicated because our trip has three separate legs. First, a week in the Kayaker’s Cove Hostel in Resurrection Bay, exploring caves and Alaska-style rock-gardening. Second, a self-supported wilderness kayak camping trip on the Kachemak Bay Water Trail, ending in Homer. Third, we will join a team of volunteers on Shuyak Island State Park, collecting marine debris by sea kayak–a perfect blend of adventure, ecology, research, and writing. Shuyak Island lies in the eastern end of the Kodiak Archipelago.

In February, I joined the crew of Exxpedition on Sea Dragon, a 72’ sailboat, and wrote about our journey in There is No Magical Place Called Away. We sailed from Trinidad to Barbados to St. Lucia, testing waters for disintegrating plastics and meeting with concerned islanders. The founders of Exxpedition are researching threats to health—especially to women’s health—from endocrine disruptors leached from plastics thrown away into the sea.

Now, I’m facing northward, towards the Gulf of Alaska where large plastics and other items float from Japan and points east. Instead of bathing suits and board shorts, I’ll be wearing neoprene booties, smart wool and a drysuit. These trips to the north and south–both focused on marine debris–seem like bookends to me and highlight the global dimensions of ocean health.

Tom Pogson of the Island Trails Network, a community-based non-profit specializing in marine debris advocacy in the Kodiak Archipelago, is coordinating this clean-up effort. Fellow paddler Dawn Stewart saw Tom’s call for experienced sea kayakers to volunteer for two-week stints, and the three of us applied that night. It was too exciting an opportunity to pass up—wilderness kayaking and cleaning up Alaska’s shoreline. In NOAA’s Marine Debris Blog, Tom described the difficulties of accessing Alaska’s largely road-less shoreline, other than by small boat and float place. Alaska’s waters have enormous tidal flows—which make for rough water and fun kayaking!

Tom sent us an extensive packing list, and our living room is strewn with gear that must fit into our kayaks. In addition to the expected paddling and camping gear, we have Xtratuffs–rubber boots that apparently all Alaskans routinely wear, knee pads, and heavy duty rubberized yellow rain gear. Kodiak and Shuyak Island are rain forests, so we can expect to be wet and muddy for several weeks. I’ve also packed massive quantities of coffee for survival.

Like the rest of Alaska, Shuyak Island’s weather is unpredictable, ranging from sunny and clear to gale force winds. It could look like this:

or like this:

Textbook storm explodes near Kodiak Alaska

A float plane will carry us and our gear from Kodiak to Shuyak and will resupply us with food midway through our visit. During these two weeks, our team of 7 will collect, haul, and drag–whatever it takes–junk that others have thrown away or lost. Later in the summer, others will collect and study these items. Judging from pictures of last year’s clean-up on nearby Tugidak, these wild plastics will be human-size and larger. On the Seadragon, the scientists of Exxpedition needed microscopes and tweezers to handle the microparticles we found, but on Shuyak, we will just need brute strength.

Enough about the debris—we are going to an incredibly beautiful and wildlife-rich area. We should see harbor seals, birds, and, possibly, bears. Tom has been teasing us with breath-takings pictures for weeks now, and I can’t wait to see this area in person.

Our preparation time is winding down, and we are consolidating our gear into checked bags. From the tropics to the Arctic, we are going where the wild plastics are, to the beauty of Alaska’s waters, and whatever adventures they bring.