Yucatan Diary Day 16
Merida and Holbox, Yucatan
by Ben White
posted 01/24/05
Maurice Ewing pounds the coast, Day 4. I finish paperwork to extend visa another thirty days (while not at all sure they will allow it) and return to find a rentable boat in Holbox. The struggle continues. The wind picks up again.
"Ah hiv ahlways relahd ´pon the kahndness of strangers’ Blanch Dubois, Streetcar Named Desire"- Tennessee Williams
Ain't that the truth. Without dedicated local folks, outside agitators like me would be worthless. We now have fishermen and volunteers along the coast looking for bodies, Araceli and her group making magic, the Mexico City groups bitching up a storm, and Juan in Holbox scouring the marinas for a boat to take me out to confront the sound monster. But, like most distant disasters, you can’t hear it or feel it from the land, so what could be wrong? Remember the part in Star Wars when Obi wan Kenobi picks up on his psychic radar the destruction of a world? That sense would be buzzing like crazy right now.
This assault makes me think about property rights, that buzzword for the unreasonable right, who see the taking of a strip of land out of your backyard to put in a community nature trail an outrageous theft of personal rights. Who does the ocean belong to? One would think that, within territorial limits it belongs to the people of that country, is held in trust for them. And beyond that? Is it the tragedy of the commons- a free for all?
But what happens when governments sell off their responsibility to protect those waters and lands for the benefit of the people? Not just here off the coast of the Yucatan but when the water system of Cochabamba, Uruguay is sold to Bechtel, or the lands of the western US just handed to anyone who wants to mine, or when the state government of Washington gives permits to the refinery at Cherry Point allowing them to dump toxic material into the air and water and our bloodstreams. To me, that is a treasonable offense. We are not children, nor weak. We do not need government except to protect us and if it specifically not doing that, it is time that it be changed.
My conversation of last week with Ken Hollingshead, longtime employee of the National Marine Fisheries Service Office of Permits, still haunts me. He is the one who chaired the public hearings over LFA sonar, and helped the Navy prepare its Environmental Assessment for its future review by....guess who? Ken Hollingshead. As far as I know, he has never turned down a Navy or Lamont-Doherty permit request. In our conversation, Ken made these points:
- Even though it is true that the Ewing’s Incidental Harassment Authorization does not permit the lethal taking of one marine mammal, the finding of one during one of the tests would not necessarily call for even a temporary suspension of the tests;
- With manatees, since they are handled by Fish and Wildlife, the death wouldn’t even matter;
- The precautionary principle (where, if all data is not known about a conflict between a human endeavor and a creature, that deference is given to the creature) is not the policy of his office and never has been;
- The active sonars on board the Ewing would have negligible effect on anything even though they are over 200 dB;
- That, essentially, any creatures I were to find on the beach dead would be treated somewhat suspiciously by his office because I am "just trying to shut down the Ewing. "
I always try my best to be polite to Ken, even though he makes me grit my teeth. This time when we hung up, me calling from a booth in downtown Merida after his office refused to return my call for ten days, I felt like saying, ‘You know, Ken, it is your business if you don´t give a damn about whales and dolphins, but you shouldn´t have your job.’
Both the Marine Mammal Protection Act (MMPA) and the Endangered Species Act (ESA) which came into being partly from the charisma of AWI founder and my mentor Christine Stevens, under Richard Nixon to boot, are as revolutionary in their way as the Declaration of Independence. For the first time I know of, we promised as a country to put the consideration of other beings above our individual wishes, for the good of all. To say that some dams and roads and developments would just not be built if it adversely affected wild creatures---whoa--- that’s powerful. And the MMPA saying that we will set a goal for the death of dolphins in fisheries at ZMRG- zero mortality rate goal; that every year we would improve a little. Helluva promise. And then comes decades of watering down by the very industries who hurt whales and dolphins: the public display folks like Sea World, some fishing interests, and now, in spades, the US military in their demand for exemption from environmental law. Poor babies. Have you noticed? They are sooooo picked on.
Did you all hear about one of the cases used by the military to argue for the ‘Range Readiness Act’ last year that they were being hampered in being battle ready because they were not able to practice bombing and playing army everywhere they want. For example, a bunch of pansy-ass birdwatchers objected to the Navy bombing a little island out in the Pacific full of nesting birds just because the Navy had no permit under the International Migratory Bird Treaty (one of our oldest international wildlife protection agreements). What a bunch of whiners! They just want us to be unprepared the next time we go looking for Osama bin Laden.
Well, then no one catches the Navy sleeping. They sent, apparently, one of their brightest legal minds to argue the case against these dweebs. He pointed out that the Navy bombing of the island actually helped both the birds and the birdwatchers. It helped the birds by making people reluctant to walk on the island as the bombs fell, and the birds don’t like people walking on the island. But the next one is the beauty: He said that it benefits birdwatchers because they prefer watching rare birds- and the Navy was making them rarer. Impeccable logic. The judge said that the Navy´s arguments were ‘creative but not convincing.’ Wimp. I expect Scalia and Thomas have taken care of the likes of that tree hugger judge.
This evening as I was taking the passenger ferry boat from the mainland to Holbox, I saw in the west a celestial display like I have never seen. You know sun-dogs? The prismatic spots that occur in the sky sometime on either side of and at the same height of the setting sun? I remember in the Deer Hunter, De Niro says they have some particular good luck symbolism, (just before they all get sent to Viet Nam, tiger cages and Russian roulette). Well, this was like that but bigger and right above the sun, which was sinking into clouds like behind an agate. A big round colorful prism spot about 10 degrees above the sun. And the sun was setting over there towards where the Ewing paces back and forth, firing their big guns every twenty seconds.
Driving long days back to back for three days has made me as grumpy as a DC beltway commuter. But I have noticed a couple of things:
Mexican villages tend to have their cemeteries, full of little houses, just to the left as you drive west out of town. For some reason, that seems perfect to me- dying into the sunset- lifting wings and flying away.
Mexican working men don’t take lunch breaks like Norte Americans. Instead of taking each individual lunchbox out and going by themselves somewhere to eat in peace, Mexican workers put all the food in the middle, draw up stumps or stacks of scrap wood as seats, and eat with their hands all from the same big spread. Like around a campfire. Talking, waving, nodding.
Many of the trees look like they were designed by Doctor Seuss. Tall spindly ones with no leaves at all until bright yellow flowers on the ends. Lush green big trees with long stalks full of crimson flowers. Strange beauty.
Well, I´ve got to run. Juan is here to take me to talk to the guys about the boats, and one won’t be here tomorrow. Wish me luck.
Much love to all, and to all a good night.
This campaign, and my salary, is being paid for by the Animal Welfare Institute. Tax exempt contributions will be happily accepted at Animal Welfare Institute, Box 3650, Washington, DC., 20027.
Love and revolution,
ben
|
