Sharks swim in every ocean. They are important not only for the complex ocean ecosystem, but for people everywhere who, believe it or not, benefit in some way from them.
The past decade has seen tremendous leaps forward in shark conservation around the world, but we still kill 100 million sharks a year. We have to do better. We need to adopt a global shark policy.Continue reading →
This is the latest post in our “Conservation Tools” blog series, which spotlights how cutting-edge technology is helping scientists explore and protect the natural world.It’s also the first of our shark-related posts in tandem with the Discovery Channel’s Shark Week 2014.
The only sounds are those of seabirds, the wind and the Pacific Ocean striking the ship. On the horizon is the island for which they have been searching the past few days. Its 1795, and explorer George Vancouver describes what he sees upon his arrival to Cocos Island:
“[sharks] assembled in the bay in very large shoals, constantly attending on our boats in all their motions […]” (excerpted from Callum Roberts’ 2007 book “The Unnatural History of the Sea”)
Explorers like Vancouver began visiting Cocos in the 1520s. Soon pirates came too, using the island as a temporary secret storage site for stolen goods.
Centuries later, the human presence around this remarkable island has evolved, but retains a common thread.
The “pirates” of this century do not come to hide treasure. They come to steal fish. But with the help of new technology, modern-day explorers — scientists like me — are teaming up with the Costa Rican government and local partners to stop them. Continue reading →
Sitting at a seaside guesthouse in Com, a small community in Timor-Leste, I watched the moon rise over the ocean. Tiny lights began to flicker along the shoreline as women waded in the shallow waters of the reef flat, collecting crabs, octopus and sea urchins and using baskets woven from palm leaves to catch small fish.
Women in Timor-Leste interact with nature on a daily basis, but as the owner of the guesthouse, Robela Mendes, explained to me, women have a different relationship with natural resources than men. “It is important to get women involved in conservation, because they use natural resources too.”
Over the past two years the former rugby star has been island hopping through the palm-tree studded, turquoise coasts of the Cook Islands, but not as a tourist. Iro has been visiting remote villages — some many hours by boat from the capital of Rarotonga — collecting information from community members that will shape the world’s second-largest marine protected area.
Stretching from Namibia down the west coast of South Africa, the Succulent Karoo is a vast, semi-arid desert with sweeping vistas, mountain ranges, ancient rock formations, wild coastlines and clouds of stars arching overhead at night.
This is big sky country. At the time of my visit in May, it was difficult to imagine how this dry, rocky landscape transforms after the winter rainfall, when many of its 6,300 plant species blossom in a colorful explosion of wildflowers.
In the heart of this area is Namaqualand, where people depend on the landscape for their livelihoods. They graze their goats and sheep in areas historically grazed by herds of wildlife like antelope. The landscape is accustomed to grazing, and people have shaped their way of life around it.
At the new national park in Madagascar’s remote Baly Bay, villagers convene for an unusual festival.
At this annual event hosted by Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust, the villagers wait for the announcement of the winners of a yearlong competition. For this contest, villages are scored on the number of fires that broke out within their assigned zones and how effective their communities were at responding and controlling fire spread.
How do the villagers know when and where to respond to a fire in a 1,000 square-kilometer (almost 400 square-mile) area in and around the national park? They’re using intelligence from NASA satellites, via technology created by CI.
In 1953, on the heels of a discovery of a second coelacanth specimen in the Comoros Islands off Madagascar’s coast, J.L.B. Smith, the man who described the species, wrote in the Times of London: “We have in the past assumed that we have mastery not only of the land but of the sea… We have not. Life goes on there just as it did from the beginning. Man’s influence is as yet but a passing shadow. This discovery means that we may find other fishlike creatures, supposedly extinct still living in the sea.”
Unlike the coelacanth, which was thought to have gone extinct, we have known for centuries that giant squid have existed in our oceans’ depths. But unable to observe them alive in their deep sea home, we have understood very little about how they live, where they live and how they behave.
That is, until 2012, when Drs. Edith Widder, Steve O’Shea and Tsunemi Kobodera filmed the elusive and mysterious giant in its natural deep-sea habitat for the first time — a landmark moment in ocean exploration and an example of how technology and ingenuity can overcome the monumental challenges we face in exploring the deep. But it is a drop in the vast ocean-sized bucket of amazing discoveries waiting to be found.
It’s summertime again in the Northern Hemisphere, a season when millions of people journey to the nearest beach or mountain in search of a break from everyday life. It’s also a time that we all seem to read more — or, if nothing else, we talk about reading more. So why not combine these two forms of escape in one?
Ballard is a British novelist (actually born in Shanghai) who became famous with “Empire of the Sun.” “The Drowned World” is his first novel, and my personal favorite. He published it in 1962, when people did not talk much about climate change yet. The story takes place in the 21st century, when “fluctuations in solar radiation have caused the ice-caps to melt and the seas to rise. Global temperatures have climbed, and civilization has retreated to the Arctic and Antarctic circles. London is inundated by a primeval swamp, to which an expedition travels to record the flora and fauna of this new Triassic Age.”
I hope this science-fiction piece continues to be seen as science fiction in years to come; it reads incredibly plausible and realistic nowadays.
– Fabio Scarano, senior vice president of the Americas field division
Over the last month, millions of fans from all over the world looked toward Brazil, as teams from 32 countries and four continents have been battling for the title of 2014 World Cup champions.
This Sunday, the city of Rio de Janeiro will once again stage the final match— the first time since 1950. Back then, thousands of spectators reacted in astonishment when Brazil lost to Uruguay in the final match. This week, my generation experienced the same feeling after the seven goals scored by the German team in the semifinals. Sunday’s match will therefore be a stage for either the Germans or Argentineans to shine — may the best team win!
The city of Rio has changed a lot throughout the years. In the ’50s, the city was still the capital of Brazil (it’s since been moved to Brasilia) and its population was approximately 2 million. Today, this number has tripled.
During the last World Cup held in Brazil, Rio de Janeiro was in the midst of an urban revolution, with the opening of new avenues and construction of modern buildings downtown. The lack of water, however, was already a critical problem for the city due to deforestation in urban areas and a poor distribution system, and even inspired the lyrics of one of the most popular Carnival songs: “Rio de Janeiro / city that seduces us / during the day lacks water / during the night lacks energy.”
Kame Westerman with Madam Odette, one of the participants in a recent gender workshop in the DRC. Madam Odette runs a local organization that focuses on gender equality and providing family planning to villages near the park. (photo courtesy of Kame Westerman)
This blog is the second post in Human Nature’s new “Gender + Conservation” blog series; read the previous post.
One by one, the men and women stood up and rattled off a list: “Beans, sweet potatoes, peas … also sorghum.”
I was sitting on a hard, thin wooden bench in a dimly lit concrete room. Afternoon sunlight streaming in through holes near the roof provided enough lighting to display the crowd of men and women from the nearby village who had eagerly come to this meeting. “And the men,” they continued, “they are responsible for bananas, sugar cane, potatoes.”