Whales and rubbish

For the past few days the sea has been an ever-shifting mirror, reflecting a distortion of the cloud streaked azure sky. Long rolling swells gently raise and lower Sea Dragon as we cut through a seemingly endless expanse of blue. The weather has improved day by day as we glide south towards Cape Verde; the only complaint being a lack of wind. Despite being mere days ago, I have trouble placing myself in the mode of foul weather gear and 40knot winds that set the tone for the start of this leg. Shorts, sunglasses, and a generous helping of sun lotion have replaced layers of clothing and a constant clamminess that comes with sailing in the N. Atlantic in winter.

Today we decided to take advantage of our good graces. The morning started off with an amazing sunrise, casting liquid gold across the deep purple ripples of this great sea. The sky was alight with a gradient of colors ranging from dark orange to pink to gold to the bluest blue you could ever hope to see whilst dry. Good weather has led to good spirits for the crew, as our third tuna has led us to another supper of fresh fish. In anticipation of a swim in the afternoon, Tommy, Elton and I rigged up a rope swing using one of the spinnaker poles. To everyone’s delight, we parked the boat this afternoon and made use of our new toy. The swing was good fun, and the water was such an ideal temperature that plunging in offered no shock, only cool refreshment. The tranquil sea and clear sky made for the strangest playground I’ve encountered; seeming more like a dream or state of mind than a physical place in the world. As if it were the icing on the surreal cake of our afternoon swim, a great baleen whale emerged from the depths within spitting distance of the boat (not that we condone spitting on whales, or any sea creatures, only conveying that it was very very close). It circled the boat a few times; emerging as a glistening grey mountain, and then plunging into the depths to show its white belly and leave a trail of whirling water.
It might seem impossible, even contrived, to find fault with such an idyllic few days, but I must confess to doing just that. Despite having near perfect weather, visits from marine mammals, and the bounty of fresh fish, I cannot help but dwell on the reality of this place and time. So far we’ve conducted two trawls, and despite seeming flawless from the deck of the boat, the sea surface produced plastic both times. Upon closer inspection the surface was dotted with synthetic fragments floating in from all over the world. Standing on deck for a minute and focusing on the water immediately below reveals permanent confetti of debris, and we’re only seeing our tiny line across this vast ocean. The fish we’ve caught and consumed carried similar fragments inside of them. My first leap on the rope swing landed me on what I mistook to be a jellyfish, and then found to be a slimy plastic film. During our 30 minute stop, I couldn’t keep plastics out of my field of view.

Seeing the marine mammals only deepened my lamentation over the ruin of the oceans. Unlike us foolish humans, who knowingly choose to eat fish poisoned by our own waste, dolphins have no choice. They must eat fish, and the fish are filled with our contaminants. The great baleen whale, largest of all creatures on this planet, sifts through the seas to feast on plankton, and undoubtedly the plastic particles the plankton are suspended with. Being thousands of miles from land, one expects to be free of the pollution that plagues land. This is not the case. Our recklessness and demand for quick convenience are leading to the ruin of the planet as a whole, both above and below the surface.

Stephen Amato