Amanda's Thoughts

Plastic Pollution of the Marine Environment

By: Amanda Artz

I had the pleasure of meeting and listening to a lecture by Captain Charles Moore in ESRI’s new auditorium.  During a voyage from Hawaii to Long Beach, Captain Moore discovered the Pacific Garbage Patch.  Calling today “The Age of Plastic”, Charles shared troubling information about the biggest ocean secret ever.

Photo courtesy of GISandScience.com

Captain Moore owns and sails an oceanographic research vessel called the Orv Alguita.  It can lift up to a ton in weight and access remote areas.  Using a mantatrol, Moore captures zooplankton to study.  During one of his sample collections he made a troubling discovery:  an abundance of plastic bits floated in the water in larger quantities than zooplankton!  Plastic is not biodegradable; instead, it photodegrades, which means it breaks up into tiny particles as small as bits of sand grains.  Captain Moore believes that soon when ocean water samples are taken, not only will the salinity be recorded but also the plastic content.  Besides this discovery, Charles came across the Pacific Garbage Patch that is controlled by the North pacific Subtropical Gyre.  In this garbage patch floats 3.5 million tons of junk, 80% of it being plastic.  The entire patch is TWICE the size of Texas!  Samples of trash collected contained plastic tarps, Asian origin plastic, toothbrushes, bucket handles, fishing line, bottle caps, plastic popsicle sticks, umbrella handles, and many other unrecognizable photodegraded plastic pieces.  What is interesting about the patch is that almost all of the junk is derived from Asian countries.  Moore explained that because of the oceanic currents, Japanese trash floats to the West Pacific while US trash floats the East Pacific near the Philippines.  What is even more troubling is that there are five known garbage patches in the world!  The journey trash travels to each patch site from its human occupied origin takes about six years total, and although it might not seem as though it affects us, it is completely changing oceanic ecosystems.

Millions of tons of plastic are eaten by fish everyday.  Plastic is very harmful because it is a virtual sponge that soaks up oil and other pollutants.  There are one million times more pollutants in plastic then in the water around it.  And think about it:  if plastic contains toxins that fish ingest, what do you think happens when we ingest fish?  Plastic doesn’t just affect the animals living in the ocean.  Studies done on dead Laysan Albatross chicks’ stomachs revealed that they ingested so much plastic given to them by their mothers who had mistaken it as a food source that they couldn’t carry the weight of the indigestible plastic in their stomachs and died.  10,000 chicks die every year from this cause.  Trash is also a new substrate of colonization for animals trying to lay eggs.  Samples of trash were collected with eggs attached because an animal had mistaken the trash to be rock or coral.  Plastic sticks to jellyfish, and rocky inter-tidal organisms and coral colonize on debris.  We are virtually creating an entirely new ocean habitat and it can’t be a good thing.  Plastic transports invasive species, creates shade and blocks the suns rays, and is buoyant which slows sequestration of carbon dioxide.  If we don’t figure out ways to reduce the plastic pollution in the ocean, our oceans could be a completely different place in less than 50 years.

At the end of Captain Moore’s speech was a question and answer portion where somebody asked him how we could start using more biodegradable packaging and products.  Instead of answering the question, he shook his head and said angrily “We can’t do the same thing we’ve always done with new materials.  We must find ways to completely change the way we live in order to help this planet.”  I literally got goosebumps because he is right.  Unless we change the way we live, our children might not get to see what was once one of the most beautiful features on earth; the ocean.  We need to start now or it might be too late, and thanks to Captain Moore and the life style changes he preaches, we might just have a chance to save our ocean.

December 23, 2009 at 5:33 am Leave a comment

My Idea of a “Wild” Time

By: Amanda Artz

I have chosen a spot along one of my favorite hiking trails in Plunge Creek Canyon nestled in the hills of Highland.  These jagged hills are at the base of the San Bernardino National Forest and are like an irresistible invitation to explore what lies within them.

I am sitting on a trail carved out of the side of a steep hill that cascades to a valley below.  The ground is moist from the morning rain, slowly dampening my pants until I begin to notice.  Surprisingly though, the moisture is comforting, making me feel even closer to nature. Behind me sits an abandoned tunnel, its dark, rocky entrance eerily welcoming.  With recent mountain lion and bear sightings in the area, I can’t help but let my imagination wander as my hand lingers on my pepper spray.  In front of the entrance sits a large collection of natural gravel that erases any clues as to what animal might call this tunnel home.  These massive igneous hills are the perfect area to observe the natural processes that so easily break down Earth’s solid outer layer.  The soil varies in different spots of my location.  Underneath me it is well weathered and reminds me of crushed Oreo cookies.  It is moist to the touch and has a few larger rocks hidden within, like seashells among soft, ocean sand.  The soil underneath the few sporadic trees gives me an amazingly close look at the decomposition and weathering process, each step visible in the palm of my hand.  I brush whole leaves away to find bits and pieces of others, smaller and smaller until the organic matter is unrecognizable among the dirt.  Closer to the hillsides the soil is chunky and rough; quite the contrast to the silky smooth soil that lines the trail.  The sheer stress around these hills is evident.  The aftermath of rockslides and landslides lay at the foot of the trail or at the bottom of the valley making what took place as obvious as bright yellow crime scene tape.  Spots along the hillside resemble scars or wrinkles that have been carved by heavy rainwater drainage trying to escape to the canyon and river below.  The stories these scars and wrinkles tell are truly fascinating.

It is the perfect time to sit and observe nature.  It has been raining off and on all morning, and right now I can only hear the soft hum of the river along with the pitter-patter of raindrops falling gently onto my notebook.  The temperature is perfect.  Occasional wind brushes coldly across my cheek, making me feel refreshed and alive.  The wind grabs hold of the limbs and leaves of plants and entices them to dance and hum softly to the song of the river.  Other than this melodic dance, everything around me is still.  I’m sitting in complete shade brought upon by the towering cliffs above me.  The sun weaves in and out of nimbostratus clouds like a child playing hide and seek.  I look up to see the beautiful formation of a rainbow; how truly lucky I am to be sitting here at this exact moment!

The rain in this elevation is a sign that snow has fallen up in the mountains above.  This conclusion is made more evident by the swift, healthy flow of the river down below.  Thick patches of trees surround the riverbed and clearly show that this river is the heart of the valley.  Although it is November, no trees lining the river have lost their leaves.  Most are still vibrant shades of green, yet some have started their fall transformation into hues of yellow, orange, and red.  The valley is a carpet of yellowing grass, untouched except for few indentations from an animal’s chosen path. Shrubs occasionally dot the grass carpet in brilliant colors of orange, green, and grey that mirror an abstract painting.  How ironic that one of the shrubs I recognize is Indian Paintbrush.  Beyond the river only patches of trees grow, some leaning drunkenly on the hillside following the pattern of erosion.   Roots stick out of the hill, clinging onto the crumbling granite and slowly losing their fight for survival.  A few of these trees are black and contorted; their charred bodies are all that remain of the devastating 2003 wildfires. These hillslopes aren’t just home to plants.  The sides of the hill look like terraced civilizations intermingled with animal burrows, covered in moss as a sign of age.  Birds chirp and play chase from tree to tree, most of them no bigger than a grapefruit.  Animal tracks and feces are also present which is a great sign that this hidden paradise is oozing with life and activity.

Spending an hour at this site really helped me draw some conclusions as to how this ecosystem functions together as a whole.  The climate in this area is generally stable and constant, and the vegetation isn’t dense enough to affect the amount of sunshine or rainfall that occurs here.  But, climate does play a big role in the erosional processes that take place all around this area. Since the sheer stress of the hillsides is so high and the weathered material among them is so thick and chunky, the more it rains, the more landslides occur.  These landslides affect the distribution of vegetation and what spaces animals can occupy.  The parent material of the soil comes from bedrock and is deposited along the valley floor by landslides.  Once every so often, the river overflows and deposits a rich layer of silt onto the valley floor, helping it flourish in the coming spring.  Also, the climate in the mountains above affects the flow intensity of the river in this valley.  During the summer it is more of a creek than an actual river.  I couldn’t imagine what this are would look like without the climate and soil forming processes working together.  Each piece of this system is like that of a puzzle:  they all fit together to create a balance in which the atmosphere, hydrosphere, biosphere, and lithosphere interact in harmony and create an ideal location where life can flourish.

December 23, 2009 at 5:09 am Leave a comment