Twice each year I make a crass capitalistic plug for my documentary on white sharks: Island of the Great White Shark. These indulgences in the free enterprise system occur once in August, around the time of Discovery Channel's Shark Week, and during the holiday shopping season. Not one to break from tradition, here I go again.
When I first began filming in 2005 at Isla Guadalupe, Baja, sites like YouTube and Vimeo were in their infancy. And while there had already been a few crews at the island to film the great white sharks that migrate there in the fall months, no one had attempted to do a complete documentary about the island, the shark diving operations that came there, or the working relationships they had at the time with researchers who were trying to learn more about these sharks, to better understand their behaviors so that appropriate measures could be taken to protect them. That was the story that impressed me from the very first trip I took there until I finished filming three seasons later.
Today, video sharing sites are awash with exciting home movies of Isla Guadalupe white sharks taken by some of the fortunate divers who have made the journey. But Island of the Great White Shark still finds an audience and continues to resonate. If you've ever wondered what it would be like to be in the water with a great white shark or if you've been there and want to show your family and friends why you're not completely crazy, Island of the Great White Shark is for you. This documentary brings together divers, world renown shark experts and, of course, magnificent sharks and tells it like it is, without exaggerated hyperbole - these incredible animals don't need any - while also being informative and laying out the challenges that these and all sharks are facing today.
I have been gratified to have Island of the Great White Shark screened at major aquariums, film festivals, and museums across the nation. It has given me a chance to make a case, on film and in person, for the conservation and protection of these critically important ocean predators.
From September through November, a young - geologically speaking - and rocky island off the Pacific coast of Baja, Mexico, turns into the world's premiere site for viewing great white sharks. Isla Guadalupe, a government-protected biosphere, becomes home to a migratory group of 70 to 100 white sharks, ranging from 12-foot hyperactive males to enormous 18-foot females. During this time, a cadre of international shark ecotourism operators play host to divers, photographers, and the curious thrill-seekers by providing cage diving experiences, enabling people to view these impressive predators in their natural environment.
It is often a game-changing experience for those who consider these sharks as the ultimate, malevolent denizen of the deep. Instead they typically come away with a new-found respect for these magnificent animals, both impressive and endangered, and hopefully they will return home with an appreciation and concern for the threats these sharks face in today's world.
I have just returned from my 17th trip to Isla Guadalupe, spanning 7 years of filming these sharks either for my documentary, Island of the Great White Shark, or on a film assignment, or for stock footage. At the end of each season, I always find myself thinking, "Well maybe that's enough," and yet each fall I am drawn back to this remote spot once more. Such is the allure of the great white shark; there are other sharks that are more beautiful, more exotic, or even more endangered, yet there is something about this particular animal that has found a place in my subconscious.
On this particular trip, I was accompanying my good friend and photo-journalist, Budd Riker, who was there to do a magazine article. This was Budd's first trip to Isla Guadalupe and his first chance to see white sharks in the wild. The trip was arranged by Shark Diver and we were aboard the MV Horizon along with 14 other paying passengers. This would be a somewhat low-key trip for me; whenever I am aboard with paying passengers then my filming techniques become more conservative, confining myself to the cage, as I do not want anyone to assume that they can take the same risks that I do as a paid professional.
This afforded me more time to relax and view these animals without worrying about lighting, exposure, focus, and all the other things that fill your mind when you are hoping to turn a brief encounter into a long-lasting film or video image. This more leisurely pace also allowed me to think back on other memorable trips and memorable sharks - most of these sharks migrate back to Isla Guadalupe year after year and they are easily recognizable, so it's a bit like a reunion and seeing old friends once again.
In particular, I have a sweetheart at Isla Guadalupe: "Mystery," an 18-foot, beautifully proportioned female, stunning in her size and grace in the water. In 2006, while at Isla Guadalupe to get a few remaining shots for Island of the Great White Shark, Mystery appeared to me for the first time and spent two full hours being curious as to the bait offered by the boat and equally curious as to the diver in the water with the large camera. Time and time again she would cruise directly towards me and turn at the last moment, right in front of my lens, providing me with wonderful close-ups. Upon my return home, I re-cut several scenes in my film to take advantage of the magical moments this one particular shark had provided me.
So impressed was I with Mystery that, on a future trip in the Bahamas, I met sculptor Bill Wieger and commissioned him to do an accurate, museum-quality rendering of my favorite white shark based on my video footage. The end result has become a regular feature of Bill's line of animal sculptures but Mystery #1 hangs on my living room wall - a reminder of a special moment in time when nature was most accommodating.
However, for the next two years Mystery was not seen at Isla Guadalupe. Sometimes the white sharks, particularly females, will skip a year. Researchers are not exactly sure why: Does it have to do with reproduction or gestation? Do they simply just stay in one place or travel to a different location? There's no definitive answer yet - one of the many unsolved mysteries regarding these animals - but an absence of 2 years or more is always a reason for concern as the shark may have run afoul of commercial shark fishermen or perhaps was fatally injured in an altercation with another shark.
Or it could have succumbed to natural causes. The life span of a great white shark is estimated to be around 30 to 35 years, but that is an estimate based on the ages of other species and the age of mature white sharks caught by fishermen. No one has found a white shark dead of old age.
I was beginning to worry about the fate of Mystery when, near the end of the 2009 season, she had been spotted at Isla Guadalupe. But she was not seen the following year and had not been spotted this season so far. So once again, I began to wonder if my favorite shark model had met a sad end. Long-standing regulars like "Shredder," a large male who has visited the island every year for the past 10 years, had made appearances - but no Mystery.
During our stay at Isla Guadalupe, we were visited by Dr. Mauricio Hoyos, a prominent researcher of the island's white sharks. I first met Mauricio when he was just a grad student studying under Dr. Felipe Galvan of Mexico's marine institute, CICIMAR, and Dr. Pete Klimley of UC Davis. I featured Mauricio in my documentary and we have remained friends ever since. Mauricio has been coming to Isla Guadalupe each year to tag the sharks with transmitters and track their movements and other vital information so as to gauge the health of the population - he is undoubtedly "Dr. White Shark" of Isla Guadalupe.
As he approached the Horizon in the small boat he uses for tagging, Mauricio announced that there were several new sharks spotted so far this season: several new males and a couple of large females. In fact, over the course of our stay, we saw two new males and one female that were new to the island. Individual great white sharks have unique markings, much like fingerprints, and all the sharks that are seen at Isla Guadalupe are numbered and cataloged for future identification.
And then Mauricio added one more shark that had been identified recently that made me throw my hands up in a combination of joy and relief: Mystery had been spotted. It was getting a bit late in the season but the ol' girl that had graced me with such marvelous images years before finally made an appearance. Later that day, we were visited by a very large female and many thought it might be Mystery but I saw that it lacked her distinctive dark mark, like a birthmark, on the fourth gill slit on the left side. It turned out to be female #109, a very impressive animal and the largest shark seen during the trip.
But even though Mystery and I did not get a chance to meet and say hello after all these years, I was content knowing that she had been spotted. I suppose it's all a bit silly. And, given their estimated life span and the threats that they face year in and year out, it is inevitable that sharks like Mystery and Shredder will disappear from Isla Guadalupe forever - that's nature's cycle of life. However, that is the power of having the opportunity to see these sharks - and many other animals - in the wild. If done responsibly, ecotourism can impress upon the participants both the beauty and fragility of our ecosystems and the importance of protecting them for their own sake and ours.
This past weekend, my dive buddy, still photographer Bidd Riker, and I tried once again to dive on the wreck of the "ACE" off the coast of San Clemente, California. I say tried once again, because this was to be our 4th attempt at trying to reach the ship. Three previous attempts were met with poor visibility to the extant that it made for unsafe dive conditions. We were past the "third time is the charm" mental attitude and were now bordering on the "we better find this bloody #@!!% thing" philosophy.
The "ACE" is a 58-foot fishing boat - a drum seiner, to be exact - that sank in the fall of 2006 during rough seas with a full load of sardines and mackerel. With a measure of air trapped in its holds, the ACE drifted a bit across San Clemente's sandy bottom before finally settling down on its port (left) side at a depth of 114 feet. That drifting made it hard to locate for officials and salvagers, and so it remained out of sight until a year ago when a local dive boat charter set about to find the ACE based on rumors and speculation provided by local fishermen.
On this fourth attempt, Budd and I once again found visibility to be very poor at around 5-foot - not dangerous diving but certainly not what you're hoping for when shooting video and hoping to capture images that show the size and overall condition of the wreck. The ship is nearly covered from bow to stern with white metridium anemones which are startling for their bright white color against the backdrop of rusting steel and dark water. In addition, the ship is littered with sculpin, a type of scorpionfish, that prefer resting on the bottom quietly waiting for small fish to pass by and inadvertently become today's meal.
Wrecks of just about any size are fascinating subjects to film. Their appeal works on several different levels: they are something out of place (its supposed to be floating on the surface, not resting here in the murky depths); man-made objects are a testament to our folly either to the ravages of war, as with the South Pacific wrecks from World War II, or to underestimating the power of nature; and they can be marvelous artificial reefs that attract a wide variety of marine life.
However, on this occasion, there were to be no sweeping panoramic shots of the ACE - not when you can only see a few feet in front of your face. And that points out one of the challenges faced by nature photographers and filmmakers. You may have phenomenal skills and all the equipment in the world at your disposal, but you are still a slave to the devilish whims of mother nature. Many times, the footage you see on television or in the theater, or the images you see in books, are the result of many, many repeated attempts. And the more unusual the subject matter, whether it be a particular animal or a certain animal behavior (or simply a capsized fishing boat), the more challenging it can become to find just the right conditions that will enable you to get what you had hoped for.
But when the dice roll in your favor, you can come away with some startling imagery. And this can raise another issue: are we doing the oceans a favor when we show it in all of its visual glory, when we show the best of the best of our photographs of video? Or are we presenting the general populace with a false impression of the actual health of the oceans? When I have had the opportunity to speak with renown underwater photographer David Doubilet, he often asks this same question. Can we effectively talk about, say, fragile coral reefs that are in decline when every book on the subject is full of glorious and stunning images of vibrant fish and reef communities? One would hope that the viewing audience would appreciate the diversity and color of underwater life as seen in photographs and film and, by extension, want to preserve it. But it's a thought that gnaws away in the back of the minds of some of the great craftsmen who so beautifully chronicle the world's marine ecosystems.
For Budd and me, such heady questions needed no pondering this weekend. Skunked again by mother nature and its millions of sand particles, plankton, and animal larvae that can make for a thick soup of poor visibility, we decided we would try again in the fall when changing temperatures and currents can make for a few more days of acceptable conditions.
Of course, we're bound to hear how great it was the very next day. "Oh, you should have been there. . ." Shoulda, coulda, woulda - words to live by for the underwater filmmaker.
For the next ten days I will be on location out at sea in the Bahamas. Depending on internet availability, blog posts may be a bit hard to come by until I return on April 12th.
In the meantime, feel free to peruse through the RTSea Blog archives. With over 600 posts, I'm sure you'll find something of interest until I return with new images, videos, and stories to tell.
Saturday was to be an interesting day: diving on a newly found 100-foot wreck off of San Clemente, CA and then filming a brief introduction to a video I was preparing for a film festival/science conference. A busy day but a very satisfying one. At least that was the plan.
Wildlife filmmaking is infused with a high degree of serendipity - unusual animal encounters, shots of once-in-a-lifetime behaviors - along with an often equal measure of frustration when things don't quite go your way. You control only that which you can control, and the rest you just take as it comes.
My dive buddy, photographer Budd Riker, and I had heard about a newly discovered wreck several miles offshore from Southern California's San Clemente beach and we were looking forward to this first of what could be many dives. Ocean wrecks have always fascinated me. As a man-made structure, they seem eerily out of place underwater and yet they also can prove to be an attraction for a wide range of sealife, from schooling fish to algae, corals, and numerous small critters that take up residence in the iron and wood oasis.
But first you have to find it. The boat operators had marked the location with a buoy (which makes for an easy method to descend straight to the wreck, but today the buoy marker was no where to be seen. Lost in rough water or cut free by a grumpy lobster fisherman who felt his unspoken lobster trap territory was being encroached upon; whatever the cause, the crew's easy reference point was now gone and hopes for relocating it on the sandy bottom via sonar proved to be ineffective. Rock outcroppings provided tantalizing but ultimately disappointing sonar wild goose chases.
With time running out, the boat captain had to eventually abort all hopes of locating the wreck. He moved the boat to another site with kelp beds and rocky reefs to offer some sort of consolation prize for having missed out on diving the wreck. However, that turned out to be a disappointment too, as visibility could easily be seen from the surface as having the consistency of green-tinted cafe mocha. With that, all diving was scrubbed and the boat and its disappointed and embarrassed crew headed back to the harbor.
Well, at least I didn't have to spend part of my afternoon cleaning camera and dive gear.
On to plan B in the day's schedule: to shoot the video introduction. Budd and I scouted for a suitable location at Dana Point Harbor and found an interesting spot with rocks, trees, and ocean breakwater in the background. Well, at least I will be able to salvage something from my day, I thought. Oh, but I will have to wait a moment as this one recreational powerboat motors by; its throaty engine rumblings being picked up by the microphone.
Good. All clear. Oops, hold on; here's another one. Now a helicopter cruises over head. And another boat. Now I'm having people who are strolling along the harbor's edge, enjoying the day's great weather, stop and call out, "Hey, you guys making a movie?" Well, not at the moment, that's for sure.
Working in uncontrolled environments can often be very challenging when you have specific goals or objectives to meet. The yin-yang attitude of mother nature is not always conducive to specific agendas. But it's those occasional monkey wrenches that can and do make it interesting.
Fortunately, Budd and I are scheduled to return to the offshore wreck in two weeks, after the dive operator promised to have it once again marked by buoys and accurate GPS coordinates. And we got the introduction filmed the next morning in a different and, thankfully, quieter location - just minutes before rain, forecasted for the evening, decided to come early.
Hah. you missed me, mother nature. At least for the time being.
Okay, readers, here's my one crass holiday plug. Island of the Great White Shark is my documentary tribute to the great white sharks of Isla Guadalupe, Baja and the dedicated researchers and scientists who study these amazing animals.
Going on six years ago, I spent several seasons filming the white sharks that migrate to this prehistoric island about 150 miles of the coast of Baja, Mexico. Since then, the lead Mexican researcher featured in the film, Mauricio Hoyos, has gone from grad student to Ph.D. but still returns to the island each year to tag and track sharks.
With online sales in full swing this weekend, you can find the DVD of Island of the Great White Shark at Amazon.com. Amazon also suggests other shark DVDs, like a Discovery Channel Shark Week collection and a well-seasoned classic like Blue Water White Death. That would give you quite a range of perspectives from sensationalistic to realistic, from fearsome to fascinating.
Check it out and may your holiday shopping be a pleasant and sane one.
In 2005, I began filming what was to become Island of the Great White Shark, a documentary on the white sharks of Isla Guadalupe, Baja and the important working relationship that exists between the shark diving operators and Mexican researchers. It took several seasons of filming at Isla Guadalupe, returning year after year, looking to grab one more shot that was needed for editing - at least that was always the excuse. Actually, any chance I got to see these amazing predators first hand and up close, eye to eye - well, I took it.
During one particular trip to the island, during the second season of filming, I had one of those special encounters, the memory of which has stuck in my mind and I hope I never give it up. We had been seeing sharks all day and, as is the case at Isla Guadalupe in the latter part of the season, they were mostly large females. Due to the rough and tumble nature of shark mating, mature females are often badly scarred. This comes from amorous males who secure their grip on the female prior to mating by biting her around the head and gills.
On this trip, I was filming within the cage - although I use that term rather loosely. Professionally, I tend to not use a cage but in my earlier years working with white sharks I would at least use the cage as a secure platform from which I would lean out into open water to get striking close-ups of the sharks as they pass by. Familiar and, for the most part, totally disinterested in the cages or the divers inside, the sharks, however, would become curious about this large protrusion (me!) extending from the cage into their domain.
Following a lull in shark activity, I was about to surface when out of the depths below a large female rose up to see what was going on. Attracted by the scent of fish (this was before restrictions were imposed on chumming), this 16-foot leviathan came into view and she was truly magnificent. At around 3,000 pounds, she was fully mature and perfect in shape and proportions, with hardly a scratch on her - absolutely stunning. I started to roll tape, hoping I would get a shot or two before she moved on.
Her name was "Mystery", given to her by researchers who have studied and cataloged the great white sharks of Isla Guadalupe. Sharks can be easily identified by various body markings and scars. Even the pattern of gray above and white below that runs along the side of the shark's body acts like a lasting fingerprint.
Mystery was quite curious with me and provided me with a wonderful close pass right in front of my lens before sniffing the bait floating in the water and then gliding off into the gloom, out of sight. "That was a really great shot," I thought.
And then she returned. Another close pass, another swing by the bait, and then you could see her cruise just along the edge of visibility. I was beginning to get a feel for her whereabouts, her preferred movement patterns, so I could anticipate her approach and ready myself for when she either approached the bait and then swung by to take another look at me, or vice versa.
Each encounter I expected to be the last and she would then move on to more interesting opportunities. But she stayed. And for the next hour and a half, I had an ongoing love affair with a gorgeous animal, the likes of which I have never seen since. When I returned home, I had marvelous new footage to add to my documentary. Mystery became the leading lady of Island of the Great White Shark and much of the natural beauty of these animals that I was able to convey to the viewer I owe all to her.
Mystery appeared the following season at Isla Guadalupe but, sadly, I have not seen her since nor have I heard of any reports of her being seen by other divers. The great white sharks of Isla Guadalupe are pretty regular in their migrations - from the island to the mid-Pacific and back again, over and over. It's been several years since I have last seen her and I worry that she may have met her end, perhaps at the hands of poachers or illegal shark fishing operations. White sharks are protected at Isla Guadalupe and within U.S. territorial waters, but their annual migrations take them well into unprotected waters.
Mystery. She may truly be a mystery now, but the memory of our brief time together - not as predator and prey, but as two intensively curious fellow creatures - will always remain as one of the highlights of my underwater filming career.
Island of the Great White Shark is available on DVD at Amazon.com and in gift shops at several major aquariums across the country. Learn more about the film and the white sharks of Isla Guadalupe at www.islandofthegreatwhiteshark.com.
In case you just happen to be in the area, would you like to cruise through the towering kelp beds of California's Monterey Bay? Perhaps you'll come across a darting sea otter or a school of calico bass seeking shelter, partly camouflaged by the waving fronds of giant kelp. And maybe along the way, you'd like to pick up a few ideas and tips on composing an underwater video that packs a message and a punch, better than last year's family vacation video to Wally World?
If so, then check out the Underwater Video Boot Camp workshop and 2 dives that I will be conducting next week as part of the festivities at the BLUE Ocean Film Festival & Conservation Summit. Not only will I be covering what many of those buttons and switches do, but we'll also look at preparing a meaningful storyline, what style of editing might be best for your video, and what types of distribution formats you might consider.
Two dives in some of the most acclaimed kelp forests in the world plus a full introduction to underwater video - a full day and a great start to a fabulous week at the BLUE Ocean Film Festival. Only $125 to registered festival attendees - that's a deal! And arrangements can be made for rental dive gear and even a basic video camera, if you're traveling.
Over the next couple of weeks, those of you who watch Discovery will be seeing advertising for the channel's annual Shark Week programming that takes place in the first week of August. For over 20 years this has been one of Discovery's most successful programming events with tens of millions of viewers - from die hard fans to the mildly curious. For some shark advocates, the week's programs and the images they convey of the shark have been a source of disdain. Over-sensationalized programs that focus on shark attacks involving humans perhaps appeal to a dark, lower common denominator interest in sharks but it is one that represents, unfortunately, a wide segment of the Shark Week viewing audience. Discovery knows this very well.
What is in store for Shark Week 2010 is, at this point, anyone's guess - the Discovery Shark Week website is currently still listing last year's show schedule. Whatever it turns out to be, there are alternatives that can provide accurate representations of sharks and the efforts of those scientists dedicated to studying them - educational, enlightening presentations while still entertaining.
So, in a shameless plug, may I suggest Island of the Great White Shark. This award-winning documentary, which I produced in 2008, features the great white sharks of Isla Guadalupe, Baja, where I have been filming these magnificent predators/scavengers for over 6 years. The film paints a more realistic and natural portrait of the feared and often misunderstood white shark, while also documenting the efforts of dedicated researchers who study the sharks' day-to-day behaviors to better understand how best to protect and conserve them. The film also shows shark eco-tourism operators supporting the researchers' efforts while providing divers with a unique experience to see white sharks in the open ocean - something that has been responsible for generating many new shark supporters.
The Island of the Great White Shark DVD is available through Amazon.com and several aquarium gift shops nationwide. If you have purchased the DVD in the past, my thanks. If not, then learn more at the film's website and think about adding it to your DVD collection. Independent documentaries are generally not big money-makers for those involved - they usually are labors of love with participants dedicated to getting their message across. With Island of the Great White Shark, I am always hoping that someone will see these animals that are so critically important to a healthy marine ecosystem in a different light - one that will help to insure their continued survival.
Learn more at the Island of the Great White Shark website. Learn more about the film at Amazon.com.
The latest issue of TIME magazine has an interesting article on plastics and the chemicals they can leach back into our food and the environment. It's an interesting read but what caught my eye was it's closing statement as it is applicable to nature and ocean conservation in general:
"' Science isn't just about data,' says the NIEHS's [National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences] [Linda] Birnbaum. 'It's about the interpretation of data.' That interpretation, ultimately, won't be up to scientists. It will be up to us. The lesson of Earth Day [when air pollution was a heightened and more visible issue], 40 years on, is that smart policy - fired by popular will - can make a difference that we can see."
In my documentary, Island of the Great White Shark, this sentiment was echoed by Ed Cassano, Deputy Director of the Center for the Future of the Oceans and founder of the marine research/education group InMER.org, "Data for data itself is not very important. When data turns into information, it's very powerful. But if it only has a limited audience then it has a limited effect. And so, you have to get that information to the people that make decisions."
In the years that I have spent as a filmmaker, working with researchers, and promoting conservation issues, I have seen how this is true. There is important research data that appears in scientific journals or other publications but, because of its complex nature and scientific jargon, does not go much further in reaching and motivating the public. Arcane, esoteric language is ignored, or worse, is misinterpreted.
Scientists may not make the ultimate interpretation, but they can do a lot more to insure that the public and the policy makers come to conclusions that are accurate and actionable.
This is where people like myself, involved in media communications, can play an important role and need to be included in the research process. There are a multitude of media channels by which research groups and scientists can take their results and translate them into issues, implications, and possible solutions - something that the public can get a handle on. And it should be a component of the research process and not left, after the fact, to university public relations departments or headline-seeking networks on a quest for ratings. Therein lies the potential for distortion of the facts.
Scientific research can provide answers to many of our pressing environmental challenges which means it has a greater responsibility to better control and deliver the message itself. When I discuss this with scientists and researchers, they seem to agree (I get a lot of enthusiastic head nods). But it's a big step for them to include media communications in their proposals or projects - it's one more item that requires funding in a strained economic environment. However, the residual benefits of making the extra effort can pay off: more exposure for a group's work, providing additional recognition and leverage when seeking future funding.
As someone who has been involved in a variety of corporate and broadcast media activities, from strategic planning to multi-channel development and execution, every time I look through the lens, I'm thinking beyond just capturing a pretty image. How will it be used? How will it motivate? What is the big picture that could be accomplished here? These are the thoughts that go through the minds of people who realize the power and reach of effective media communications - for good or for bad. And because the truth can be distorted, it behooves scientists and researchers to be more proactive and work with those who have a mutual interest in getting the message right.
I am always looking for opportunities to work with scientific research groups in documenting their work and insuring that their results are effectively communicated to the masses. This is a direction that really excites me and speaks to my passion for conservation.
The general public, educators, and policy makers are turning to science for answers and we must be sure we are all speaking the same language.
When we selectively eliminate critical species from ecosystems, there is a price to be paid not only by the animal itself and the ecology. Man too must pony up - but our price may not be so obvious. It may be a price that is paid years down the road or is one we choose to ignore in the face of immediate personal or commercial gain.
This is what was once faced by cattlemen with regard to the hunting of wolves in the northern United States. Whatever was gained by cattle ranchers in eliminating a key predator, it ultimately came back to haunt them when the deer and varmint population exploded and competition between nature and the cattlemen for suitable grazing land necessitated bringing back the wolf population. But now the pendulum seems to be swinging back and the hunt for wolves is once again beginning in earnest - with no lessons apparently learned.
Many commercial fisheries stand on the brink of collapse, but sometimes the reason is not the obvious one: overfishing of a particular species. In some cases, it is rather the domino-like effect of our actions - as in the case of the hake fishery in Chile which has been severely impacted by the expansion of the Humboldt squid population, a voracious predator whose numbers have grown because of the commercial elimination of the squid's primary natural predators: sharks, tuna, and billfish.
This secondary effect is now being seen in other regions along the eastern Pacific coast: in the Sea of Cortez, where catches of grouper are in decline; and Northern California, where local fishermen are switching from catching rockfish to hauling up huge quantities of squid.
Here's a short video from my recent assignment in the Sea of Cortez.
The filming was for an important future program about which I have to be tight lipped for the time being. But the issue regarding Humboldt squid, which represents one of the multiple effects of disrupting once-balanced marine ecosystems, is an ongoing and growing one.
You fish. The fish are all gone. You move on. It's not that simple anymore.
Preparing for our last day of diving here at Bahia de Los Angeles. Had one terrific night dive surrounded by the local fishermen in their traditional panga boats as they hauled up Humboldt squid. This fishing activity brings the Humboldt squid up closer to the surface and we position ourselves right in the thick of it.
To prevent scaring off the squid, I was filming with red lights which don't seem to bother them. It made for an eerie and adrenaline-pumping experience - like being in an oceanic roller derby bathed in red light, with squid zooming about, sometimes hitting you as they test to see if you're something edible.
Will be back in a day or two and will post a final report with pictures (the WiFi here in Baja is very sketchy and slow, so I have held off posting any images).
We're finding windows of opportunity to dive with the Humboldt squid when the wind's not blowing.
An amazing animal but, unfortunately, a very disruptive predator when it's range has been allowed to extend beyond traditional borders due to a loss of natural predators that would normally keep their numbers under control.
We have a slate of experiments we are performing while we're here and we're chipping a way at them one by one. Last night we were surrounded by small to medium squid.
The photo shows me in standard squid diving gear: Neptunic Shark Suit, cable harness for being attached to the boat, and (not shown) an EX3 HD camera in Amphibico housing.
My good friends at Shark-Free Marina Initiative have continued to advance their cause, adding recognized marinas worldwide to their member rolls. And now they have the support of another major conservation organization, with the endorsement of the Humane Society of the United States.
“The Humane Society of the United States is pleased to join the efforts of the Shark-Free Marina Initiative,” said John Grandy, Ph.D., senior vice president of wildlife for The HSUS. “The HSUS works tirelessly to end animal cruelty, exploitation and neglect and is deeply concerned by the deteriorating status of shark populations.”
Luke Tipple, executive director of the Initiative, said, “The Shark-Free Marina Initiative welcomes the support of The Humane Society of the United States and its members to protect beleaguered shark species.” The Shark-Free Marina Initiative promotes a program whereby participating marinas will no longer allow sharks being brought in for any purpose - trophy pictures, weigh-ins, cleaning/gutting . . . no sharks, period. Marinas are encouraged to provide information on catch-and-release techniques and there is informative information on the Shark-Free Marina web site regarding the status of various shark species worldwide. I was honored to be asked by Director Luke Tipple to produce a video which explains the program and runs on their web site and YouTube.
Congratulations to both, the Shark-Free Marinas Initiative and the Humane Society, for taking this step forward in collaboration. Let's hope it produces more tangible results in increasing marina membership and providing important conservation information and alternatives to sportfishermen.
Ever since movie-goers watched Dorothy step out of the farmhouse and into the rainbow-hued Technicolor world of the land of Oz, filmmakers have worked with color film and video but often kept a soft spot in their hearts for black and white imagery. There's a stark beauty in its expression of pure contrast; and yet, it provides a myriad of subtle shadings - something that millions of colors cannot achieve.
From the gritty photos of Matthew Brady and war photographers like Joe Rosenthal and many others, to Ansel Adams' striking images of Yosemite and other U.S. forests and national parks, to the black and whites films of the '30s and '40's; monochromatic images have often been a welcome respite to color pictures and films.
When it came to underwater images, it seemed that color would understandably have a strong foothold. Capturing the explosive vibrant color of coral reefs and exotic fish seemed a natural fit and it has remained the established format to date.
But black and white can be fun and challenging - and sharks can lend themselves as excellent subjects because of their basic gray color and contrasting counter-shading (check out the Oceanic Dreams blog for some wonderful examples of b&w stills of sharks). For video, it usually requires more time spent in post-production, because what might look great in color, may not deliver in black and white without some tweaking of gamma, black, and contrast levels. But the end results can be worth all the effort.
Here's a brief experiment I completed recently using footage shot in the Bahamas of lemon and tiger sharks. Black and white helps bring out some of the wonderful effects of sunlight beaming through the blue water of the Bahamas. And leveling the playing field to just black and white helps focus attention on the graceful movements of the sharks. But it can be tedious work, requiring each and every shot to be adjusted and compared to the rest. Tedious but worth it.
There are many worthwhile non-profit conservation organizations operating today (some would say too many, as over-proliferation can dilute the power of each group). Based on their available financial resources, some of these groups are singularly focused while others succeed at being more broad-based. To regular readers of this blog, you know that one of my oft-cited organizations is Oceana. Why? Because they have had measurable success at being international, comprehensive, media-savy, and are science-based.
At the recent Copenhagen Climate Conference (COP15), Oceana was a visible presence with media presentations and staff on hand for interviews and discussions. While what seemed to captivate the press, and by extension the public, was whether a binding agreement could be achieved between the participating nations, what also was taking place at the conference was the dissemination of a lot of information concerning climate change and its related effects: ocean acidification, impacts on and from commercial fishing, changes within the Arctic circle, and so on.
All this information was being provided to insure that delegates from participating nations had the latest and most accurate information. Unfortunately, what was "sexier" to the press was the protests, bickering, and diplomatic machinations taking place, particularly as the conference moved into its second week and the question as to whether an agreement would be hammered out moved to center stage.
Oceana has assembled several videos that illustrate their presence at COP15. Blowing their own horn? Sure, but why not? Particularly since media coverage was focused elsewhere. Click here to view the videos.
One of the videos is an overview of the impact of climate change on the Arctic Circle, narrated by actor and staunch ocean conservationist, Ted Danson. I have seen some of the changes to the Arctic firsthand, working with InMER.org in the summer of 2007 when we conducted a reconnaissance of the Northwest Passage. Assisting expedition leader Ed Cassano, I documented, both on video/still images and through interviews with Inuit tribal elders and government officials, what has been taking place over the years.
What at first appears to be desolate and formidable, the Arctic Circle is, in reality, a very vibrant but delicate ecosystem, the health of which having great implications for the rest of the planet. Several of the many warning signs we saw are subtle but alarming: shrinking summer sea ice, shrubbery and trees where there used to be only permafrost, the appearance of bees and other insects that had never been seen before - all are "canaries in the coal mine" that speak to bigger and more extensive worldwide changes in the near future.
In the informative application Google Earth (available at no charge; click here for details), throughout the area of the Northwest Passage (within the Arctic Circle, north of Canada), you can find several interesting pieces of visual/textual content supplied by InMER. I had the pleasure of producing several videos for this effort and would look forward to the opportunity to return to the Arctic again to further the cause for its protection.
The other videos on Oceana at Copenhagen center on interviews with dedicated staff members and scientists discussing issues ranging from ocean acidification to over-industrialization. One of the challenges in presenting these subjects in short form (IE: brief videos) is to arrive at a balance between presenting a simplified and oft-repeated message and providing technical information which can be lost on the viewer/listener. One of the videos, I thought, illustrated this balance well: an interview with Oceana science director Dr. Jeffrey Short who, with just a bit more information and an analogy or two, describes ocean acidification as something more than an obscure or academic concept for the average viewer.
I will be on assignment for the next week, out to sea, so take this opportunity to catch up on any past postings in this blog or check out some of the other blogs listed below in the right hand column.
Writing the RTSea Blog has been very rewarding but difficult at times; there are so many important subjects to cover: shark conservation, protecting coral reefs, ocean acidification, on and on. Sometimes it's hard to take it all in so I wouldn't blame anyone for choosing just one area of interest and devoting their efforts to that cause.
But there's a lot to learn, lots of wrongs to be righted, and so little time. So read on, peruse through the RTSea Blog archive, and I'll be right back here in a week. Save our Seas!
The RTSea Blog was started in 2008 and now includes over 950 entries available for media or academic background research use, including observations on a wide range of topical issues and events involving the oceans, sharks, and nature in general. After a brief break in 2012-13, there will now be more posts forthcoming.
Use keywords in the Search tool below or at the bottom of this web page to locate articles of interest.
Cinematographer/media consultant & producerRichard TheissandRTSea Mediaadministers this blog with the intent that information will be disseminated across the Internet and, in so doing, will illuminate others as to the serious challenges that lay before us in preserving and protecting our natural resources.
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Richard Theiss - DP/Media Consultant & Producer
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Twice each year I make a crass capitalistic plug for my documentary on white sharks: Island of the Great White Shark. These indulgences in the free enterprise system occur once in August, around the time of Discovery Channel's Shark Week, and during the holiday shopping season. Not one to break from tradition, here I go again.
