The Cove

Last night, we watched The Cove (2009) on DVD. It is a powerful documentary about the killing of 23 000 dolphins each year in the Japanese town of Taiji. It is told from the perspective of a group of activists who are trying to stop the annual slaughter from taking place, and also to prevent any more dolphins and whales being taken from the wild and into a life of captivity. I remember seeing reviews about the film as it became the runaway hit during a documentary festival last year and added it to my 'must see' list.

At times, The Cove is quite disturbing to watch. Some of the slaughter scenes later on in the film are truly distressing; it is shocking to realise what happens for several months of each year. The documentary features renown dolphin trainer Ric O'Barry, who captured and trained the five dolphins used for the tv series Flipper. He tells of how he went from helping to establish a dolphin captivity industry to now actively trying to free these animals, attempting to release them back into the wild, often engaging in conflict along the way. Things are not all smiles with these beautiful, intelligent creatures when they are held in captivity.



Various supporting arguments justifying the annual dolphin slaughter were given by the International Whaling Commission (IWC), as well as Japanese government and industry representatives. This included 'cultural reasons', and dolphins being considered a 'pest', eating much of the supply of fish that Japanese people rely on to live. Even though the concentration of mercury found in animals further up the food chain (including dolphins) is so much higher than is safe for human consumption, and those who eat it risk mercury poisoning, dolphin meat remains on sale and available in supermarkets. There was even a suggestion that it be used in Japanese school lunches, which are compulsory for all children to eat at school. Truly mindboggling.

The Cove is highly recommended viewing for anyone who is interested in conservation issues around the world. A few web links were given at the end of the film to help viewers spread the word or take action:

• http://www.takepart.com/TheCove
• www.opsociety.org
• http://www.savejapandolphins.org/

Life's simple pleasures

Life's simple pleasures: they're everywhere. They can mean the difference between a good day (week/month/year) and a bad one. It could be admiring a perfectly formed shell, or enjoying an unexpected strip of colour on a building, or taking a deep breath near a lavender bush. It's just as easy to enjoy tiny experiences like this each day as it is to miss them altogether. When faced with a choice, I know which I'd prefer.

After dropping off some post today, I decided to walk back via the Petone Foreshore. We had gone for a drive to Days Bay beach on New Year's Day, but the strong wind kept the temperature down and cut our visit short. It's also very windy today, but much warmer. The sea beckoned; the water was surprisingly warm and my shoes were quickly in my hands. I thought about goal #53 - Walk in the water with sand between my toes ... and so, for ten glorious minutes, I walked along the foreshore and indulged in one of the simplest pleasures life can offer.

I'm not a beach babe by any measure, but I love being near the sea. I have almost always lived very close to the ocean and miss the dynamics of the waves when I have been inland for too long. I'll never forget how a kind couple I was staying with in northern California ten years ago were determined to take me on a 3-4 hour drive to show me the Pacific Ocean at Carmel and Monterey. They certainly are beautiful spots; I didn't have the heart to tell them that I've spent most of my life living within a few minutes of the other side of this amazing ocean.

Perhaps having parents descending from two tiny islands, as well as being brought up within minutes of the ocean, has meant that the sea is something I'll always yearn for? I hope so.

Things I don't understand

I grew up in a unique part of the world, where the Pacific Ocean meets the Tasman Sea and there is no more land in a southwards direction until you reach Antarctica. Although I am no beach babe, I love to be near open bodies of water (seas, oceans etc), or at most a short drive away. In times of trouble, I love to walk near the sea, watch its motion, and listen to the sound of waves crashing; I find this both calming and reassuring.

In my late teens, I went through a very difficult stage in my life and developed a dangerous habit of walking across rock pools late at night just to try and escape thoughts and events that were plaguing me. While I have not done this for many years now (and have no intention of starting it again any time soon), I was keen to recapture that feeling of calm as part of my 101 goals. I modified it to read #86 - Sit on the edge of a wharf/jetty.

This morning, I went for a 5km walk along the Petone Foreshore on a beautiful autumn day. I'd had a sleepless night contemplating stuff and needed to clear my mind. The jetty beckoned. Yesterday, I had a minor car crash (very small, no-one hurt, my fault, thankfully the other driver does not wish to pursue it further) and another tiny event yesterday morning triggered a floodgate of emotions. On my walk, and during my brief sit on the edge of the jetty, I started to compile a mental list of things I don't understand.

• Why does sleep elude us when we need or crave it most?
  
  
• How does precious time slip through our fingers at an alarmingly rapid rate, yet take practically forever to heal old wounds?
  
  
• How come we can't live today without technology and/or gadgets that we never knew we needed even a short time ago?
  
  
• Why are we not equipped with an 'off' switch for our brains? I'd be the first to buy one if they ever became available on the market.
  
  
• Why, when endless thoughts and worries are spooling through my mind, does my brain manage to find a matching earworm to really hammer the point home? Talk about rubbing it in!
  
  
• How do small, simple events, sounds, smells, or comments have the ability to trigger such a huge whirlpool of emotions?
  
  
• Why does it usually take some sort of wake-up call to do the things we want to do in our lives? Until these freak events happen, I'm guessing that most of us haven't even worked out what is important to us and what we value most.
  
  
• Why is self-acceptance so hard to achieve? I'm all for self-improvement, but have we gone too far? Why can't we be happy with who (and how) we are along the way?
  
  
• Why do we believe that our dreams are elusive, instead of making them happen or being happy with what we've got?

Any answers (or further questions) greatly appreciated!

Colossal squid

We paid a visit to the colossal squid at Te Papa today. The exhibit starts with a short 3D movie depicting life under the sea, which attempts to put a live colossal squid in proportion with other ocean life. Despite reading all the stats, and seeing the squid for real, it's hard to conceive of something so massive (or even larger creatures) living in our waters. That's why I love astronomy (just to digress, slightly ...); the sheer scale and proportion of beings in space, as well as the distance between objects, helps put life on earth into perspective. We are mere 'blips' in the universe, and the rest of existence will continue regardless of whether we buy those shoes, see that movie, or spend an extra hour at work. The same goes for underwater life, although, to be honest, it's harder for me to conceive of the sheer enormity of life in the deep ocean.

It is not known why this squid held on so fiercely to the bait she grabbed, ultimately bringing her to the surface of the Antarctic ocean. The decompression she would have experienced during her ascent meant she wasn't going to survive and couldn't be returned to the sea. The ensuing opportunity for the world's squid experts threw up many challenges, and some are shown on a short video about the freezing, defrosting, and research processes.

This squid is a beauty, so to speak. Some stats I remember:

• her eye is the size of a soccer ball, with each lens the size of an orange and split in two
• her throat passes through her brain, so if she eats something too big, it could do some damage
• she was about 4.5 metres long and weighed 490kg, even though she is estimated to be only half the size of a fully-grown female colossal squid
• find out more here.
  

Merely a shadow of her former self now, I'd certainly recommend going to see this colossal squid, as she is the only one on display in the world. She had a lot of visitors today, due to it being a holiday with less-than-ideal weather. As with most exhibitions at Te Papa, there is free entry. Well worth a visit!