Showing posts with label ocean currents. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ocean currents. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Collection Report Dec 5, 2011

With Christmas & Hannukah festivities now fading into the past, it's time to play catch-up with these collection reports. So, Monday, December 5. 12:15, low tide, light breeze, & a glimmering terrace as the sun peeked through partly cloudy skies.
A fairly low-energy week judging by the lack of wrack. But, this was the week where the personal became the very public.
Happy news? Or sad?
Don't. Flush. Plastics.
My first hypodermic; needle intact
I'd be just as glad to go another year & a half until the next hypodermic. This one clearly came from the sea -- it was faded, cracked, abraded. One wonders what its story was -- a hospital, home health care, back alley? One shouldn't need safety gloves to dig in the sand.

Anyway, on to Zone N:
74 finds:
  • Building materials: 7 (6 asphalt, 1 roof tile)
  • Foam/Styrofoam: 14
  • Fishing misc.: 7 (5 rope scraps, vinyl trap coating scrap, claw band)
  • Food-related plastics: 3 (food wrapper, straw wrapper, silverware scrap)
  • Food-related metal/glass: 6 (aluminum can, glass bottle, 4 sea glass)
  • Nonfood/unknown plastics: 6 (tampon applicator, hypodermic, pregnancy test, bandaid, 1 scrap >1", 1 scrap <1")
  • Cigarette filters/plastics: 25 (23 filters, 2 packaging)
  • Paper/wood: 3 (2 food wrappers, scrap)
  • Misc./unique: 3 (iron fence hook, 2 flip-flops)
Many of the cigarettes were old and had been kicked around for months (or years?). They collect up in the little nook by the access point where a large drift-log makes a shelter from the wind.

The personal care products are troubling. Not least of which because at least the needle & applicator could have come from anywhere from Halifax, Nova Scotia down to Boston. Or even farther south. How do you stop it if you can't tell where it started? It's everybody's problem... which I guess means anybody, anywhere could start being the solution, right?

Zone S:
24 finds:
  • Building materials: 6 (5 asphalt, 1 brick)
  • Foam/Styrofoam: 2
  • Fishing misc.: 5 (rope scrap, 3 vinyl trap coatings, claw band)
  • Food-related plastics: 1 (wrapper scrap)
  • Food-related metal/glass: 1 (sea glass)
  • Nonfood/unknown plastics: 4 (balloon string, 1 scrap >1", 2 scraps <1")
  • Cigarette filters/plastics: 3
  • Paper/wood: 0
  • Misc./unique: 2 (fabric pieces)
Take away the asphalt chunks and cigarettes, and this was a light week. Number-wise. I refuse to call finding a used tampon applicator and a sharp syringe "a good day." Your mileage may vary.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Distant Early Warning

One of the joys of picking up junk at the beach every week is stumbling on a good mystery. This summer, an intriguing one has been unfolding, week after week.

For months --  late winter and most of spring -- any lobster claw bands that trickled in looked like this:
From March 31. Blech.
Grotty, torn, a mess. Then, suddenly, June 2 rolls around. And so do these:
Fresh & springy 
Except for the one in the back right, all brand new. Beautiful. And from Canada. The next week, June 7, another one:
Another Canadian band 
I took the next week off, but on June 20 I found a big handful, the green & yellows almost certainly (two really certainly) Canadian:
Sensing a pattern...
And more have kept coming in.
June 23: 3 more, 2 Canadian/probably Canadian.
July 1: 4 more, 3 Canadian/probably.
July 7-9: 7 more, 6 Canadian/probably.
July 15, 5 more, all Canadian/probably:
July 15: Hello, my pretties
On and on, even now into September. In fact, since June 2, nearly every week has brought fresh, new, beige or green claw bands that are either stamped "Wild Canada" or are clearly the same make and likely Canadian.

Last year, from the first day of summer to the 1st week in September I found 17 claw bands. Maybe three were Canadian. This year during the same time I found 49. 42 to 44 of them are new, fresh, pristine, beige/green, and Canadian!

Some time in May, in the northern Gulf of Maine / Bay of Fundy, as lobstering in Canadian Zones 33-38 was winding down, an accident happened on a Canadian lobster boat. I don't know if it was a catastrophic accident, or just a box of claw bands getting knocked overboard. But what I'm finding here in Saco Bay is directly related to an event that happened 150-200 miles away. Its effects have rippled down the coast of Maine (and no doubt further south) ever since. Curious how much longer I'll be finding these.

We're all connected. For proof, just stroll the beach.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Collection Report Aug 10-12, 2011

(It's already strange looking back to the pre-Irene world. We in Saco, Maine were spared the worst. My heart breaks for VT, upstate NY, New Jersey, and elsewhere. Yet, as I've fallen behind again in collection reports, I must revisit the lazy and carefree days of mid-August. They were interesting.)

I went to beach Wed afternoon, Aug 10 just to log some old debris in the "Debris Tracker" iPhone app (a must-have for all flotsamologists). But when I got there, this is what I saw:
What the hey?
Southern Maine, had gotten a little drizzle, a little gloom the previous week. But no storm or wind. So what on earth happened here?

Turns out, Downeast Maine got hammered by a major hailstorm (YouTube clip here) the week before, on August 2. Millions of chunks of ice pummeled coastal towns, as well as seaweed & kelp exposed at low tide. Normal currents then swirled the broken mass southward over the next week, until arriving in Saco Bay on Aug. 10.

And of course, an army of seaweed collects the ocean's tag-alongs before reaching shore again. A few examples:
Fishing rope on its way in
Lobster trap tag
Antifreeze bottle, repurposed
Another sewage treatment plant disc
from the March Hooksett, NH release!
Sadly, I didn't arrive with either the time or the bags to do a full cleanup. So I grabbed what I could, and made plans for a return. Which didn't happen until two days later, Friday, Aug. 12. By which time the scene had changed:
So much gone already
More than half the seaweed -- and its plastics -- had been dragged back out into the Bay, and then the wider Gulf of Maine. Maybe to beach again near, maybe far. Who knows?

Still, I did what I could, and collected what I could. And made a strinking haul. Here's Zone N:
249 finds:
  • Building materials: 1
  • Foam/Styrofoam: 29
  • Fishing misc.: 43 (20 rope bits, 7 claw bands, 4 trap tags, 7 rope twine, trap hinge, bait plastic baggie, shotgun shell, bait bag, makeshift buoy #9739)
  • Food-related plastics: 36 (bottle, 10 bottle caps, 14 food wrappers, 4 straw wrappers, 2 straws, 4 bits old cup lid, gum)
  • Food-related metal/glass: 15 (2 cans, 2 bottles, 5 bottle caps, metal fork, 5 foil wrappers)
  • Nonfood/unknown plastics: 52 (15 bags/scraps, 3 balloons, jug cap, 3 bandaids, 2 strappings, plug cover, Hooksett disc, 2 bits tape, plastic clamp, fitting, 10 scraps >1", 12 scraps <1")
  • Cigarette filters/plastics: 56 (53 filters, 3 cigar tips)
  • Paper/wood: 12 (9 paper scraps, 3 wood firecracker sticks)
  • Misc./unique: 5 (tar/rubber chunk, cord, 2 flipflops, piece of fabric)
Much more of a winter "signature" on this debris. Just look at all the fishing debris! But an interesting mix. Because clearly there was plenty of local stuff:
Summer sunbather debris
As well as ocean-borne goods, like this makeshift fisherman's float.
#9739, I've got your antifreeze jug!
And then this:
Not local, not recent
That discolored and extra-brittle cup lid has a story to tell. Wonder where it started its journey. And when.

With that, on to Zone S:
53 finds:
  • Building materials: 1 (tile)
  • Foam/Styrofoam: 12
  • Fishing misc.: 11 (3 rope, trap part, 3 claw bands, 3 shell waddings, 1 urchin tag)
  • Food-related plastics: 5 (wrapper, 4 bottle caps)
  • Food-related metal/glass: 1 (foil wrapper)
  • Nonfood/unknown plastics: 20 (2 bags/scraps, caulk nozzle, yellow plastic lumber chunk, Liposan tube scrap, rubber sleeve, 2 wet-wipes jug lid bits, 2 firecrackers, 1 scrap >1", 9 scraps <1")
  • Cigarette filters/plastics: 3
  • Paper/wood: 0
  • Misc./unique: 0
Must have been a big event to raise Zone S's finds above 50 for a week! And as proof of some long distance travel, a couple fascinating finds:
Faint "Oct 24" written in. What year?
Still want to find out how long
it takes barnacles to form on plastic
So, a very "wintery" collection on a very summery week. And yet more proof of three things: (1) What happens 150 miles away doesn't stay 150 miles away; (2) The Gulf of Maine is a plastic wasteland, 365 days a year; (3) The ocean is trying hard to rid itself of our debris. It will get clean again, if we stop force-feeding it.

Can we do that?

Monday, December 13, 2010

Look What the Current Dragged In, Part II

Back in August I wrote a little piece on a curious lobster trap tag that had floated in on the tide. With help from the good folks at the Gulf of Maine Lobster Foundation, I learned that the tag had taken a 200-mile journey from Canada.

Since then, I've recovered many "Wild Canada" claw bands, as well as half of a recycling bin from New Brunswick. The reason for all this Canadian flotsam is simple. Coastal Maine is fed by the Labrador Current, an ice-cold flow that originates on the western side of Greenland, arcs past eastern Canada, and washes down through the Gulf of Maine.

So it's little surprise that Canadian litter reaches Saco's shores. It's also little surprise that, given the complexity of the Gulf of Maine, things sometimes go a bit wacky.
from http://www.nefsc.noaa.gov/publications/
crd/crd0807/images/f8.gif
Occasionally, a Flotsam Diarist stumbles upon the coolest resources to help learn about the world. Take Environmental Monitors on Lobster Traps, an ingenious collaboration between local researchers, universities, and fishermen. Together, they collect live data on surface currents by launching dozens of drifters with GPS transmitters. Here's a good one that was tracked for several months just this summer:
Released May 8 near Portland, ME
Died Sept. 4, Georges Bank, 150 mi E of Cape Cod
Victim of Hurricane Earl
As the eMOLT track above shows, not everything that flows from the north ends up at Bay View beach. Wind & current may just as easily pull it southeast. If so, it can get caught in one of the Gulf of Maine's many small gyres -- vortexes of swirling waters. There, a piece of flotsam may be trapped for years, and eventually flung out in most any direction. (In larger gyres like the infamous Great Pacific Garbage Patch, millions of scraps of plastic debris churn endlessly in a toxic soup. There are five such gyres of swirling trash now recorded in the world's oceans; there is no known way to effectively clean them up.)

So what happens if a piece of Maine or Canada flotsam gets dragged farther and farther southeast?

Take the example of this little guy:
Just an average Maine lobster trap tag
Sometime after 2007, this tag broke free from its trap, and rose to the surface. Bobbing on the waves in the Gulf of Maine, it stumbled into a gyre or two. Mother Nature eventually cast it southeastward. One fateful day, it met the famous Gulf Stream.

The Gulf Stream gets its start in the tropical waters of the Caribbean and southern Florida. It flows northward along the eastern U.S., veering eastward south of Long Island, NY. It rides south of Cape Cod, warming the shorelines of southern New England on its way.* Eventually its tropically-toasted waters cross the entire Atlantic and flow past the UK and Ireland. These isles, even though they lie nearly 10° farther north than Maine, are made temperate by waters originally heated thousands of miles away.

That little red lobster trap tag, still in nearly perfect condition? Found here:
Gower, South Wales, UK
(image snapped from Google Earth)
In early November 2010, beachcomber Rik Bennett was wandering his local shores in southwest Wales, when he came across this tag. Curious, he scanned the Web to see if he could learn anything about it. Eventually, his search brought him to The Flotsam Diaries. And brought this tag's 3,500 mile journey to light!

A wonderful and poignant reminder that the world is a small place. Everything connects, somehow, with everything else. And water -- the ocean -- is the constant. If you treat your part of it well, it will remember. If you treat your part of it badly, it will remember.
from www.oceanmotion.org - another priceless resource
for a budding Flotsam Diarist


* The warm Gulf Stream waters never reach Maine. All we get is the Labrador -- which is why Maine's ocean temperatures rarely break 60 degrees F, even in August. Actually, Saco Bay records the warmest ocean temps in Maine, being fed by the major Saco River, which is heated by the sun as it travels its 134-mile course.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Look What the Current Dragged In, Part I

As always, the finds that are the most fun are the ones that get you asking questions.

On an early trip to Bay View, back in June, I uncovered this...
...which looked vaguely like a lobster trap tag. (Probably the word LOBSTER put that thought in my head.) But this was totally different from the ones I was used to, issued by the State of Maine:
In fact, it was printed in English & French. Could this be a Canadian tag? This far south?

A quick Google search proved that "DFO" is Canada's Department of Fisheries and Oceans. But could the tag have been from a U.S. boat that had permission to fish in Canadian waters? I asked the good folks at the Gulf of Maine Lobster Foundation. And they confirmed that a Canadian tag could only be issued to a Canadian fishing boat. The farthest south that this lobster trap could have been set would have been shared waters off Machiasport (far Down-East Maine).

So this little white lobster trap tag really had traveled south along Maine's coast for some 200 (or more) miles, eventually coming ashore at Bay View Beach, Saco. And into my black garbage bag, where it now lives in my condo's basement.

Which is pretty flippin' cool.

But wait... All I've ever heard of currents is "Gulf Stream" -- the current that starts far down south and travels north up the eastern seaboard. So how did this tag travel south for some 200 miles?

If I wanted to know about what was winding up on my beach, maybe I should figure out how things floated in the ocean.

Here's a shocker: Turns out, the ocean is a complicated place.
from www.oceanmotion.org/html/resources/oscar.htm
More to follow.

Saturday, July 31, 2010

A Toy Story

Behold, the mighty Lego:
On July 20, during my weekly collection at Bay View, I picked up this little guy and plopped him into the bag. No biggie, just a toy at the beach.

It was only a few days later, when sorting through the bag, that it struck me: Who brings Legos to the beach? They're way too easy to lose. They don't lock together right when sand gets in them. They're just not a beach toy.

It so happened that I was reading a neat little book on marine debris at the same time:
(Burns, Loree Griffin. Tracking Trash. New York, Houghton Mifflin, 2007.)

It tells the story of oceanographer & beachcomber Curtis Ebbesmeyer. In 1990, he heard of Nike sneakers washing up in Washington state. Turns out a cargo ship had hit a storm in the Pacific. Five shipping containers of the sneakers went overboard. Dr. Ebbesmeyer contacted beachcombers up and down the West Coast to find out when and where the shoes were washing up. Then he and his friend, oceanographer Jim Ingraham, started plugging the data into computer models to learn how currents move.

Their work has brought the science of ocean and wind currents leaps beyond where it once was. And 20 years later, they're still at it. Ebbesmeyer and Ingraham are tracking the flotsam of a dozen major container spills. One happened on February 13, 1997, 20 miles west of Land's End, Cornwall, England. The Tokio Express, en route from Rotterdam to New York, was struck by a rogue wave and lost 62 containers.

One of those containers held 4,756,940 brand new Legos.

Fast-forward to Bay View, July 20, 2010. The Lego I picked up came from high-tide line, as though washed in. It's an unlikely thing to bring to the beach. Did this little toy travel the North Atlantic for 13 years and several thousand miles? I don't know. In a bucket of still water it sinks; I have no idea what it would do in dynamic ocean water.

What I do know is that it was never used.

Under a 30x - 21mm jeweler's loupe it is pristine. Not one scratch, no wear, no sign that it was ever connected to another Lego, top or bottom, ever dragged through the sand. This Lego was lost before it ever touched a child's hand, and was found before it was ever worn down by beach & wave.

I've sent an e-mail in to Dr. Ebbesmeyer. He has the full cargo manifest, and will know if the style of piece I found was onboard. Being so generic, I'll probably never know exactly where it came from. But if it dropped locally, I'll eat my hat.

It's a big world, and a big ocean... until it isn't.

Friday, May 28, 2010

A tale of loss, litter, and gridlock

3189 A1 0319 ME 05 EEZ Z:F
8743 A1 0037 ME 07 EEZ Z:G
??13 A1 0645 ME 08 Z:F
0003369 ME 03 NC
???? A1 0189 ME 09 Z:G EEZ
846 ME 00 EEZ
3754 0445 ME 02 EEZ
???? 0344 ME ?? ????
72595 0754 ME 03 EEZ

No, your Web browser isn't freaking out. The codes above come from plastic tags attached to derelict lobster traps, washed up along the shores of Ocean Park.
These hulks litter the beach. As well as hundreds of pounds of rope and shredded bits of metal caging hopelessly tangled amid the carcasses.
So far I've found more than a dozen relatively intact ones, and dozens more scraps and shreds (which admittedly required walking some 7 to 8 blocks instead of 2). The true scale is probably much greater, as the sands are expert at hiding the sharp, rusted, twisted remains.
Each one of these crumpled, crushed, and torn boxes tells a story. As do the codes on the tags. After some digging, I've learned how to decipher them, largely. Let's take a complete one:

8743 A1 0037 ME 07 EEZ Z:G

8743 is the owner's license #.
A1 is the American Lobster Management area for MA/ME.
0037 is (I believe) the trap #.
ME 07 says the tag was registered for the year 2007.
EEZ = "Exclusive Economic Zone" - a zone 12-200 mi. from shore.
Z:G is Maine's zone G -- from NH border to roughly Portland.

What's striking is how many of these traps come from EEZ -- that is, at least 12 miles off the coast. One can imagine the tortured tale. Each of these traps at some point tore free from its buoy, then scraped and rolled along the seabed until eventually washing up on shore -- in at least one case (ME 00) seemingly a decade-long trip! It's sobering to consider how many more are in the deeps, waiting their turn.

What else struck me was -- why are they still here? These rotting, dangerous, disintegrating hulks are still there at the beach, visit after visit. Why doesn't anyone take them away?

It turns out, it's illegal. According to Title 12, Part 9, Subpart 2, Chapter 619, Subchapter 2 of Maine's Statutes, it is an offense to remove a trap from the beach without getting written permission from the Commissioner of Marine Resources first. A law originally meant to keep lobstermen from hassling each others' traps could now result in up to $6000 in fines for removing a dozen derelict and broken traps currently fouling a beautiful beach.

How safe do you feel, knowing that this might be under your daughter's feet?

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

The tie that binds?

Commercial fishing is the lifeblood for much of Maine. In 2000, the state granted some 18,000 harvesting licenses. About $336 million in seafood was landed in that year alone.

So it's little surprise that the detritus of commercial fishing washes up on local shores. But I was surprised by the amount. By any measure -- number of items, volume, weight -- the refuse of commercial fishing outstripped any other material I was collecting.

March 8:


March 19:

Trawler rope, line, netting, shellfish baskets -- if claw bands were a big business, fishing rope is a juggernaut. Google "fishing rope" and you get 10,000 hits. Almost all of it is now made of nylon, polypropylene, and other plastics that don't biodegrade. It all lives a hard -- and short -- life. And obviously much simply ends up shredded underwater or tossed overboard, then rides the currents wherever they lead. (It's a phenomenon documented on beaches around the world.)

Plus, it easily tangles with marine plants. Almost every clump of kelp that I picked through had rope, or thin, nearly invisible fishing line, hopelessly knotted up within it.


And of course this raises a slew of new questions -- does the rope/line actually help bind the kelp and clump it together? If so, is that a bad thing? Are there organisms who eat kelp and ingest rope fragments too? If so, is it harmful? And the organisms that bind to the ropes -- are they helpful or harmful when they hitch a ride? Does the rope sink and roll along the ocean floor til hitting shore -- or does it float and swirl near the surface?

Then there's the elephant in the room -- was all this fishing flotsam a one-off, or is it pervasive up and down the coast? Is it the unavoidable price of maintaining an industry that drives so much of my state's economy, and very way of life?