Nat Geo Education Blog

A Rare Spirit Bear Sighting

2012-05-16T16:27:56Z

A rare spirit bear, also known paradoxically as the "white black bear," was spotted during a National Geographic Expeditions small-ship trip last weekend through the Inside Passage of British Columbia, southeast of Alaska. The expedition to Alaska, British Columbia, and the San Juan Islands, is a 12-day biannual trip aboard one of two vessels: the National Geographic Sea Lion and the National Geographic Sea Bird. This incredible experience affords travelers a chance to explore the wilderness by Zodiac, by kayak, and on foot, with a team of naturalists and a National Geographic photographer.

Spirit Bear in British Columbia. Photo by Justin Hofman.

During this most recent excursion, which just concluded this month, several whale sightings were tallied as the Sea Bird traversed northward through the islands and straights of maritime British Columbia on her way to Alaska. This landscape has been described as "an unspoiled labyrinth of tiny islands, spectacular fiords, and abundant wildlife." This is a land where wolves can fish, deer have been known to swim, and black bears are sometimes white.

]]> The spirit, or Kermode (ker-MO-dee) bear, is a western sub-species of American black bear (Ursus americanus kermodei) with cream-colored fur caused, not by albinism, but by the presence of a recessive phenotype that is unique to the species. The genetic combination is so rare that these spirit bears have been seen on only a few islands in the world, all of which are located around the Great Bear Rainforest between Seattle and Juneau. It is believed that, "white fur occurs in only one of every 40 to 100 black bears on the British Columbia mainland coast, but the trait is especially pronounced on certain islands in the Great Bear Rainforest." Such a rare sighting for the voyageurs certainly warrants a place in their memories. However, the continued enjoyment of such spectacles is dependent upon the ability to reduce disturbance to the animals and to their natural territory.

"In a moss-draped rain forest in British Columbia, towering red cedars live a thousand years, and black bears are born with white fur." Photo by Paul Nicklen.

To learn more about how you can embark on a trip of a lifetime with National Geographic Expeditions, visit their website. For more information about wildlife in the Pacific Northwest, including the bears of those lands, check out these additional National Geographic resources:

• Alaskan Salmon Forests in Tongass National Park (video)

• NG Expeditions trip summary

• NG Live! presentation by Michael Melford, photographer for the Sea Bird

Testing Crime Theory with Maps: Broken Windows & Violent Crime in Philadelphia

2012-05-15T16:58:06Z

Each year the National Geographic Society sponsors a number of cartography awards to support up-and-coming student map makers. Today I'd like to introduce you to Brad Carter, a student at the Ryerson University in Toronto, Canada, who won second prize in the Association of American Geographers-National Geographic Award in Mapping with his map, Broken Windows & Violent Crime in Philadelphia. His prize: $300 and a National Geographic 9th Edition Atlas of the World. Brad shared his map and some insights into his motivations for creating it.

Where are you from?

Toronto, Ontario

Name one or more dream jobs:

Too many jobs could fit that description for me to pick just one. Any job that provides a challenge, demands creative problem solving, and offers an element of discovery would make it to the top of the list. That's probably why I've gravitated towards cartography. It offers you the opportunity to work across many fields of study, while at the same time demanding the creativity to express complex information in a single image.

Who is your favorite geographer, map maker, scientist, or adventurer?

If I had to choose a favourite adventurer it would probably be Scott Carpenter, the astronaut that flew in orbit during the Mercury program, then left NASA to participate in the SeaLab project. To have had the opportunity to be a pioneer in the exploration of two great frontiers-- outer space and the deep sea--makes his story particularly compelling.

What was your undergraduate major?

Marine Biology

]]> Now then, about your map...

What class was it for?

The map was produced for the Thematic Cartography and Geovisualization course, which is part of the curriculum of the Master of Spatial Analysis program at Ryerson University in Toronto.

What inspired you to do this project?

I have an interest in criminology and I thought it would be a rich subject from which to create a compelling map. The purpose of the map was to illustrate two criminology theories by superimposing the spatial relationships between social factors (single-mother households), environmental factors (vacant buildings, as a proxy for urban decay), and crime. My ultimate goal was to allow the map reader to make the determination as to whether either of the theories illustrated, "broken windows theory" and "social disorganization theory," provide a satisfactory explanation of the distribution of crime in Philadelphia. I was intrigued by the idea of trying to illustrate two theories that attempt to explain the root causes of crime.

What were your biggest design decisions/challenges?

That's an interesting question because the parameters of the assignment played a role in my choices. We were asked to incorporate two thematic mapping techniques, preferably ones which are not commonly used. That provided a challenge in itself. I chose the dasymetric mapping technique in order to allow all of the rich detail of the residential areas to show. After that the toughest decision was choosing a colour scheme that would allow for enough diversity to make the map easy to read while at the same time retaining a unified look.

Any other details you'd like to add?

It's an absolute thrill to receive an award from National Geographic. In our house, there were always two or three issues of National Geographic on the coffee table. My mother's subscription dates back to 1967, so I grew up reading the magazine, and I have no doubt that my career path was inspired by the many articles and maps that I read during my childhood.

-Sean O'Connor, for National Geographic Education

NOTE: The National Geographic Award in Mapping is administered by the Cartography Specialty Group of the Association of American Geographers. Find out more about this and other National Geographic student mapping awards here.

Taking Classrooms Global With Model UN

2012-05-14T15:08:26Z

Middle school students in the Global Classrooms DC program visit a mini library station to get information for their debate at the 2012 Spring Model UN Conference. Photo courtesy Latraniecesa Johnson-Wilson.

Mining, child soldiers, the human rights of migrant workers, and crisis in Colombia?

These are issues that challenge the world's foremost development and security experts, and probably seem foreign and unfamiliar to most U.S. teenagers. However, Model UN youth are taking on these seemingly intractable problems in mock forums across the country this month.

The 2012 Global Classrooms DC (GCDC) Spring Model UN Conference took place on Tuesday, May 1, at the U.S. Department of State, hosted by the United Nations Association of the National Capital Area (UNA-NCA), the U.S. Department of State, and the Pan American Health Organization. During the event, 600 middle and high school students, including youth from underserved communities in the Washington, D.C., metropolitan area and a special delegation all the way from Tema, Ghana, participated in a daylong program. The agenda consisted of speeches by diplomacy experts followed by the main event: member-state presentations, negotiations on draft resolutions, and unmoderated caucuses among the students.

I can only imagine how exciting it would be to don a junior-sized suit and swap policy recommendations at the State Department, the hub of our nation's diplomatic activities. As I recall, my own Model UN experience in 7th grade took place at a local community college--and I thought that was pretty snazzy. And yet, as thrilling as the conference surely is for all the participants, it represents only a small part of the broader Model UN program. To prepare for the conference, middle and high school students and teachers participate in year-round activities to help them understand the UN system, increase their knowledge of other cultures and traditions, improve their ability to think analytically, and creatively and collectively tackle global problems.
]]> I took a look at the background guides for two of the 2012 topics, "Metals and Mining " and "The Situation in Colombia," and was impressed by the level of detail presented in the documents. Metals and Mining outlines the two primary types of mining--surface and underground--and describes some of the controversies surrounding the mining industry's intersections with the environment, health, economy, groups such as children and indigenous communities, and armed conflict. All three of the issues highlighted elsewhere at the conference--mining, migrant workers, and child soldiers--are discussed in the context of Colombia in the background guide for that topic, as well as some additional challenges associated with drug trafficking. And that's just the beginning: After reading the background guides, students are tasked with completing their own research to further expand their knowledge of the issues.

Model UN is no doubt a fantastic learning experience that helps students develop core content competencies, along with skills in analyzing, applying, communicating, and debating. Importantly, students are treated as adults--albeit young ones--accountable to their teams and, ultimately, the nations they represent. "Empowering" is a word that students and teachers often use to describe the program, and I hope that all the students who participated in the May 1 event shared that sentiment. They likely also felt inspired, thanks to a dynamic presentation from Special Adviser to the Secretary of State for Global Youth Issues, and Director of the State Department's Global Youth Issues Office, Ronan Farrow (quite a mouthful of a title!).

Ronan Farrow, Special Adviser to the Secretary of State for Global Youth Issues, pictured with UNA-NCA Executive Director Paula Boland. Photo courtesy Latraniecesa Johnson-Wilson.

In his talk, Farrow spoke about 21st-century challenges and how social media can be used to solve those challenges globally. He suggested that the first 21st century generation is more wired than any other before it, and that it is helping to give a more radical approach to youth advocacy--a critical contribution, since 21st-century challenges require 21st-century solutions. He called for the establishment of youth councils at embassies around the world to bring the voices of young people--a rapidly growing segment of the global population--into international policy-making circles. Farrow is committed to starting this work at home in the U.S. by actively seeking policy advice from students, such as those participating in the Model UN program.

Like Ronan Farrow and the many teachers, administrators, and volunteers who dedicate their time to the Global Classrooms D.C. Model UN program, National Geographic Education believes that preparing young people to think critically about their world and make geographically informed decisions are among our most important responsibilities. We enthusiastically support the work of Global Classrooms D.C., and have been proud to partner with them on a number of projects over the years. Congratulations to all the participants at the Spring 2012 Conference; thanks for sharing your remarkable story with us!

If you would like to learn more the Global Classrooms D.C. program and how you can get involved, please visit their website at unanca.org.

Gena Magill, GCDC Communications and Evaluation Assistant (left), shares a hug with student Samantha Brew, GCDC Youth Team Member and Model UN Secretary. Photo courtesy Latraniecesa Johnson-Wilson.

Thanks to Latraniecesa Johnson-Wilson, Communications Program Assistant for UNA-NCA, and Jill Ruchala, Director of Global Education for UNA-NCA, for their help with this article.

--Sarah-Jane for National Geographic Education

Subterranean Cartography, Geography, and the Usual Politics of the New York City Subway

2012-05-11T01:00:34Z

An article in the New York Times from earlier this month offered an interesting inside look into the difficulties of designing the map of the venerable and labyrinthine New York City subway, the oldest subterranean railroad in North America. In 1972, a cartographer and designer named Massimo Vignelli was tasked with creating the first usable map of the subway system and its ever-expanding tunnels and spur routes. A few years later in 1979, a group of map-makers led by cartographer John Tuaranac revised the older Vignelli map, "with an artist's touch but a less-than-faithful adherence to the city's true geography." Various geographic mistakes were made in the revision. In some places, such as on the West Side of Manhattan, Broadway Avenue is seemingly misplaced among the uniform grid of streets that crisscross the city. Other more noticeable quirks are also present, such as the supersized outline of Manhattan compared to the real scale of the island.

The 1972 map, designed by Massimo Vignelli. John Tuaranac's job was to revise this edition. Photo from visualcomplexity.com.

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From a geography perspective, displaying inaccurate information on a map is an egregious offense, especially on a mass transit map that literally millions of visitors rely on each year to navigate a city. According to the article, the series of design gaffes from the past quickly turned into a blame game between cartographer Tauranac and the 1979 template designer, Michael Hertz, neither of whom were aware of the mistakes made in the subway map until just a few weeks ago. Errors made during the map-making process due to miscalculating the precise locations of surface roads and landmarks could had implications beyond the problem of lost tourists roaming the streets of Manhattan. The reputation of cartography as a profession and an art could be on the line, since people rely on the accuracy of information stored on maps, especially one so ubiquitous as the New York City subway map.

It's crucial to note that some apparent "errors," such as the large size of Manhattan or the tunnels bent to orthographic angles, are in fact explicit design decisions made by the mapmakers for reasons of clarity. After all, the level of detailed resolution on a small map is necessarily limited to the bare-bones routes and landmarks. It's pretty incredible to imagine the task of drawing a map of subterranean tunnels that you can't see from street level, so perhaps the designers should be given some slack.

What do you think? If you were riding the New York subway, would you be concerned about which side of Broadway Avenue you ended up on? Could a difference in nine blocks between the apparent entrance of a station and the actual location become an issue for you?

I find it interesting that it took the designers 30 years to discover the errors, and that none of the billions of riders seem to have noticed them, either. What might that say about how people actually use subway maps? Maybe they're only looking for a stop that puts them in the general vicinity of their destination...but I know I wouldn't want to find myself multiple blocks off target!

-Mickey

Experiencing the Thrill of Everest from the Safety of the Classroom

2012-05-08T16:58:26Z

Do you have what it takes to ascend the world's loftiest summit? It's daunting to imagine the equipment and support a team needs to undertake such a demanding feat of mountaineering, not to mention the mental resolve and perseverance to push through endless nights of bitter cold and wind. But that's exactly what three members of the Montana State University community are experiencing in the 2012 Mount Everest Education Expedition, sponsored by National Geographic, the North Face, and other partners. Montana State University geologist David Lageson, MSU student Travis Corthouts, MSU alumnus Kris Erickson, and North Face global team athlete Conrad Anker are part of the expedition team.

Mount Everest in the Himalayas. Photo by Jodi Cobb.

Following their journey are more than 1000 students from across Montana who have gained access to a unique way of learning about the technical challenges of mountaineering.

"Not only are the students seeing exotic photos and reading updates on MSU's expedition website, but they are using some of the same equipment in the classroom that the climbers are using on Mount Everest," said Suzi Taylor, assistant director of outreach and communication at MSU's Extended University.

"Hundreds of others are following the expedition's dispatches, photos, and videos via Facebook."

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Extended University prepared 40 teacher kits and eight lesson plans as part of their educational offerings. The kits include geologic hammers for rock sampling, handheld GPS units, National Geographic maps to track the expedition progress, and waterproof tablets for writing down observations, just to name a few items. In total, the kits contain an estimated $500 worth of equipment to help students understand the science and geography behind the journey.

Teachers of elementary and middle school-aged kids are reporting that their students are "jacked up" and very excited to be able to experience firsthand what climbing up Mt. Everest would entail--without the risk of frostbite and altitude sickness. Many teachers are having kids participate in activities that are meant to emulate the physical limits of the human body at such altitudes, such as walking up stairs with ten pounds of books strapped to their back while breathing through a straw.

"Some days it is hard to get them to think about the other parts of their education," said Bill Lee, who teaches fifth and sixth-graders at Winifred School, located in North-Central Montana between Havre and Lewistown.

Read more about the Everest Education Expedition, and about how Montana students are experiencing the action, in the Bozeman Daily Chronicle. The National Geographic website about the expedition, On Everest, features dramatic photographs and videos, including scenes of an emergency evacuation of photographer Cory Richards.

-Mickey

Big Cats Initiative

2012-04-25T20:18:48Z

The eyes of the world have been on big cats lately as their numbers dwindle at ever-increasing rates. These extraordinary creatures, which play an incredibly important role in their respective ecosystems, cannot be replaced. If they are not at the top of the food chain, the delicate balance of trophic relationships will be thrown into chaos.

What is the best way to save big cats? Education. The interactions among big cats, their territories, and humans, are complicated. It is critical to help students understand these relationships so that they can know how to best protect lions, tigers, jaguars, and other threatened top felines.

"Young Lions" photo by Amy Dickman.

National Geographic Education, in partnership with the Big Cats Initiative, has created a library of resources to help educators teach about big cats. While "big cats" might not be on any state standards list, basic topics in biology, ecology, and environmental science--such as predator-prey relationships, adaptations, habitats, and animal conservation--can be covered through the lens of these charismatic megafauna. Below, we highlight a few of the resources in the Big Cats collection.

]]> The video Lions of Gir, one of 18 short video clips in the collection, explores the last remaining Asiatic Lion population. Ecologically, these cats are priceless, but humans have moved into their hunting lands and have brought their livestock with them. As the cats have had to forfeit more and more of their territory, they have begun to hunt livestock, inciting conflict with humans, who retaliate by killing the lions. The effects of these individual losses are compounded by disruptions to the lions' complex social structure, which results in many more lion deaths. The Lions of Gir video describes the precarious situation of the Asiatic Lions from the perspectives of the different stakeholders: Conservationist, Local Government, Maldhari herdsman, and the lions themselves. It is an excellent way to engage your students in discussion, and in systematic-decision processes about human interactions with the environment.

"Living wall installation" Photo by Laly Lichtenfeld.

The case study the Greater Southern Bypass highlights the relationship among African Lions, the traffic of Nairobi, Kenya, and local pastoralists. The study features the work of Dr. Paula Kahumbu, who suggests that there is a way to live in harmony with the cats. One possible solution relates to the construction of the Southern Pass, a new highway being designed to alleviate some of the trade traffic through Nairobi. She suggests that the road be carefully mapped to avoid natural animal corridors, and that it be built with high fences and tunnels to facilitate animal movement. Dr. Kahumbu also advises that bomas, or fences that pastoralists use to keep out predators, be enforced with chain-link fence to prevent lions from penetrating them and provoking farmers.

"The Greater Southern Bypass" is one of three case studies in the Big Cats collection. Case studies are important tools to use in the classroom to challenge students to apply their knowledge to real-word situations and develop critical analysis skills. Case studies are best discussed in groups of 3 to 6 students. The discussion should result in a decision about how to resolve the issue described in the case study. Asking questions is an important part of this process--before, during, and after reading the study. Groups should be able to work internally to come up with questions and possible solutions to present to the class. After all the groups have presented, the whole class can discuss the implications of their decisions.

For more Big Cats videos, activities, and case studies, explore the complete Big Cats Collection on the National Geographic Education website.

Sources
Indiana University Teaching Handbook. Managing a Case Assignment. February 2, 2012.

--By Hannah Herrero, National Geographic Education

Papua New Guinea Blog 7: Kolopom School

2012-04-24T21:30:29Z

Jane Fajans is a professor of Anthropology at Cornell University. She was invited to join the James Cameron expedition during their time in Papua New Guinea and share her insights into the culture of the Baining people. Jane conducted fieldwork with the Baining on the island of Papua New Guinea, near the Mariana Trench in the South Pacific.

On Monday I decided to visit Kolopom Primary School. Martin offered to accompany me since I had never been to this school before. Kolopom is the biggest school in the coastal Baining region and is growing. Until recently it only went up to 6th grade. To continue their education, students used to have to graduate with good grades from 6th grade, and then go on to boarding school elsewhere. Only a few families among the Baining could afford to send their children to boarding school in the past.

Tony Paska, headmaster of Kolopom School, Coastal Baining District, Papua New Guinea. Photo by Jane Fajans.

Nowadays, the schools are being extended to include all grades up to 10. Kolopom is now offering grades 3-7, and next year will add grade 8; they will add a new grade every year until the school can accommodate up to to grade 10. For the first two grades, children go to elementary schools in their own communities. Then, they move to the more centralized primary schools, which host children coming from 4-5 local elementary schools. After grade 10, some students go on to high school, and some go to vocational school to learn special skills to help them acquire jobs.

]]> Most Papua New Guinean children start school at a later age than those in the United States and Europe--they are typically seven or eight when they start. In part, this is because they often have to walk long distances to get to school. For instance, from Number 1 Lassul ( a Baining village) to Kolopom is almost an hour's walk, including a traverse over a small mountain ridge and down into a valley. Additionally, the children have to cross a river, which most of the time is quite shallow, but it can become very deep and fast-moving after a big rain. Many students do not cross this river when it is flooded. The school headmaster often dismisses school early when the river is rising so that students can get home safely.

On Monday I watched my 'granddaughter,' Binan, get ready for school, her homework all done. She got up early (before 6 am). She cooked for the family over a fire, scraping coconuts to make a broth for the ubiquitous greens, which are usually cooked in a saucepan with the coconut milk. This soup of greens is served with either taro or Hong Kong Taro (called singapu).

After cooking, she washed in the sea, and then rinsed off with rainwater. She put on her school uniform and packed herself a lunch. By 7 she was on the road to school, which starts at 8. She did all of this without a clock or watch to help her schedule her time. Most Baining just gauge the time by the amount of light and the position of the sun in the sky (which changes very little for them throughout the year, since they are only 4 degrees of latitude from the equator).

Martin and I started out for the school about an hour-and-a-half later. We ate the breakfast Binan had prepared (but not eaten) and washed ourselves. We walked up to the top of the ridge, following a dirt-and-stone road that leads to the old village site of Lan, and after a long journey eventually ends up in town. At the top of this small ridge we had to go down. The path was a muddy track, which looked to me like it headed straight down vertically. Usually the paths I walk in Baining country have trees and tree roots that offer some traction on the incline. This one didn't seem too. Martin asked if I wanted to try it, and I asked if there was another route. He said there was.

A short while along we came to the next path and it looked somewhat better to me, so I started to venture down. Only about six steps down I slipped and fell onto my back, with my head heading downhill and my legs sprawled around. How embarrassing! Martin helped haul me up and we moved on to a third path. This one was actually quite easy to follow, and we descended down the ridge and moved into the valley.

At some point our path merged with an old truck/tractor road from one of the plantations and the road evened out more. We walked and walked through pretty deep forest until we came to the edge of one of the plantations. These plantations were cleared and planted over a hundred years ago by German colonists, who conscripted local labor to clear the forest and build the roads. They then hired a number of plantation laborers, many of whom came from other parts of Papua New Guinea.

The lingua franca (general language) "Tok Pisin" developed in contexts such as these, where people from multiple language groups came together and evolved a language of mutual comprehension. Pisin still maintains many German words that were incorporated in these early days. After the Germans lost their colonies (at the end of World War I), many Australians took over the plantations. The Australians are now also mostly gone, and many sold their plantations to Papua New Guinean companies.

The plantation we walked through was very overgrown and had not been 'worked' for more than a decade. The group of Baining that had adopted me considered this plantation part of their territory, and they were gradually starting to rehabilitate it, even though they did not have legal papers to show ownership. They will have to clear a lot of brush and plant many new trees.

The original coconut trees on this property are over 100 years old, 100 feet tall, and are not bearing as many fruit as they once did. The cacao trees (cacao is what chocolate is made from) have been devastated by an insect called the cocoa pod borer (CPB). These trees bear almost no usable fruit now. The Agricultural Ministry is working to develop a cacao tree that is resistant to these insects, and some new species have now been planted.

As Martin and I walked through this plantation we encountered quite a few kinsmen spending time in their small homes or working out on their blocks (sections of trees planted or harvested by a particular individual). Each of these encounters required a social interaction, betel exchange, conversation, etc. Most of the people we met promised to come and visit me in Lassul.

It was almost 11 when we finally arrived at the school. The headmaster came out to greet us. He had already heard about my arrival and was expecting me to come one day soon. We went to his office to talk to him.

Tony and I talked about the school and about general education in Papua New Guinea. Kolopom School has been improving greatly in recent years and now has two classes of students per grade level, meaning they are adding two classes per year as the students advance. This means they will have to build two classrooms and two teachers' houses each year for the next three or four years. AusAID, the Australian Agency for International Development, built this year's classrooms. The school is expecting a new teacher, but since there is no house yet, that teacher has not yet arrived.

I think Tony is helping in the classroom to the best of his ability. He worries that because the Baining are so isolated from both Papua New Guinean urban culture and the larger world influences, Baining children are unprepared to move out into the external communities, and less competitive when they do so. We discussed some things that might help. One easy way to help some of the older students in the school reach beyond their borders would be to set up pen pal relations. Writing letters to school children in the U. S., Australia, and other parts of the world would help the Kolopom students gain mastery in English and form connections to students who live very different lives. Students who live outside of Papua New Guinea could also learn a great deal about this part of the world and the lives of their peers.

I hope that some of the teachers and classes reading this blog become interested in forging such pen pal relations. I have names and addresses of some students to start with, and I can maintain contact with Tony Paska to expand this project. Finding students in different communities to write to the Kolopom students and describe their lives would be great, because then the Kolopom students could learn about a number of different global locations and cultures.

One major difference in the lives of many U.S. students and those in PNG is that Papua New Guinean students have almost no access to computers or the Internet. They do not know about--let alone use--email. They do not have cell phones (or if they or their parents do, they do not have coverage in the region and can only use them in town). They do not spend all day texting their friends.

These are experiences that I'm sure the Papua New Guinean students would love to have, and Tony Paska and I would love to be able to set up some computers in the school that could be used for surfing the web, doing research, and corresponding by email. Until that happens (if it happens), they would love to write using pencil and paper and receive hand-written letters, as well. Remember, because they start school at an older age, the students in lower grades are the same age as students 2-3 years ahead in other places of the world. I hope that they can try to correspond with foreign students of approximately their own age.

Here are some pictures of the different classes at Kolopom School.

Elementary students (grades one and two) at Kolopom School. Note that these students do not have chairs or desks, and the classroom is unfinished. The walls and floors are not enclosed. Photo by Jane Fajans.

Fourth-grade students at Kolopom. Photo by Jane Fajans.

Fifth-grade class at Kolopom Primary School. Photo by Jane Fajans.

Sixth grade class at Kolopom Primary School. Photo by Jane Fajans.

After the chat with Tony, we went and saw one class going outside for a life science lesson about planting flowers. We saw another class engaged in a math lesson. A third class was discussing a reading.

Classroom building with two classes inside.

After we left the school, we went back to the river and washed and talked with some people sitting along the banks. We then decided to walk back along the plantation roads, which are flat. Although the route is longer, it avoids the hill I fell down. By this time my knee was feeling sore from the fall, the sun was hot, and I felt much older than I wanted to.

Luckily, as we walked along the road, a tractor-trailer passed us in the other direction, carrying sago leaves to weave into walls for the new teacher's house. We decided to flag a ride back to the Bay on the trailer when it returned. We were not the only ones doing so. There were about 15 of us riding on the rough trailer behind the tractor. We bumped along and called out to people working along the road. Several school children jumped on the back and were dropped off near their homes. The Baining can and will walk long distances, but they are always pleased to have a ride, too.

If you are interested in the pen pal program with the Kolopom students, please email OceanEd@ngs.org.

Papua New Guinea Blog 6: Lassul Bay

2012-04-23T19:41:59Z

The church was only half-full until the cachetist called everyone inside. Women usually sit on the left and men on the right, but when everyone came in it was too full and people sat wherever there was a seat. Photo by Jane Fajans

After church, which is called lotu in Tok Pisin and in Baining, everyone gathers outside and talks and chews betel. There used to be community meetings at this time, too, but now much of the business is done through the announcements in the church. The children all gathered in one area and began a free-for-all play period. I sat and talked with a variety of people and handed out betel nut and received betel in exchange. I was asked a lot about my children and my husband, but not a lot about what I'd been doing since I was last there.

Although my Baining was insufficient for most conversation after so many years, I could remember all the greetings, exchange expressions, and some simple ways to explain my presence. For the rest we all conversed in Tok Pisin, which is even more prevalent now than it was before. English is also taught in the schools, and used by some of the more educated people, but most Baining are much more comfortable in Tok Pisin, and I am not sure how much English they really know. Even Papua New Guineans who speak English well tend to speak Pisin in informal contexts. I planned to visit the school during my stay.

In the afternoon, Aidah (Martin's wife) and I walked around the station so I could see the new health center and the rest of the buildings, and strolled out along the road that edges the bay. This health center is far bigger, cleaner, and better staffed than before. They have one 'doktor,' who is trained but doesn't have a medical degree, and four nurses. They have a surgical unit for minor cases, and a big maternity ward. More serious cases will be transported, as in the past, to the hospitals across the bay, by either ambulance or speedboat. The most prevalent illness in the region is Malaria, which is endemic. Almost everyone has it, but they suffer episodes only intermittently. The big need, in addition to malaria medication, is good birthing and maternity care. The remaining cases are mostly accidents falls, etc.

Aidah and Samsin in front of the new health center. Photo by Jane Fajans.

As we walked around we continued to meet people, including the nurses and policemen, and when we left the station we were hailed by numerous Baining, either from their small hamlets along the road, or on the road itself. Making the rounds is a Sunday activity, and everyone was relaxed and talkative. Martin and my two roommates from the night before joined us on our walk.

We walked all the way to the point of the bay. At the main house of one of the old plantations, which still line the coast, I was introduced to Tony Friend. I first thought he was a plantation manager, but found out that he works for a company called Nautilus Minerals, which is about to start operating a seabed mining project (for copper among other minerals and ores) in the deep straits between New Britain and New Ireland islands.

This was the first I'd heard of this venture, so I talked more with him. He is not a mine expert or geologist, but was hired as a community relations officer to liaise with the community around the mine's work. He also collects data on local environmental conditions to use as a baseline for monitoring potential problems from the mine and the other projects. As community outreach officer he has helped with the school, the health center, and with tuition for eight local students to go to high school on company scholarships. I also saw Aidah angling for some money for her women's group and for a pre-school start-up.

He seems to be friendly with lots of the Baining and relatively responsive to their needs. He wishes they would be a little more engaged in developing their own agendas for development, but respects their family and work values. From my discussions with my hosts and the president of the local government council, I think motivation for development is beginning to grow, but is still several years off.

When I introduced myself to Tony Friend he looked thoughtful, and then mentioned he had my book inside. Later in the week I borrowed the book to show my Baining friends. I had sent copies to several people when the book first came out, but they seem to have either never been delivered, or to have vanished since then. Most of the people just looked at the pictures, and I felt bad that there weren't more. A few, like Martin Mengiam, read a few passages and remarked on some of the words and activities I discussed. They were most taken with a picture of my 'sister,' whose name I was given back in 1976, Taluvian. She had died before my last visit. Several of her 'children' and sisters asked for copies of this picture. I will have to compile a set of pictures to send back.

As a result of my conversation with Tony Friend I want to find out more about this seabed mining project, and about the risks and potential it might have for the region and the people. Although I liked Tony Friend and respected the work he was doing as community relations officer, I am less certain I like the seabed mining project, and the potential for environmental disasters that it opens up. In particular, I worry about Nautilus Minerals' plan to build an ore processing plant, which might very well be located in Lassul Bay. Such processing plants in other parts of Papua New Guinea have had devastating ecological effects. Although such a plant would provide jobs and perhaps royalties to the Baining, it would also be a catalyst for other Papua New Guineans to move into the area.

More old acquaintances came over in the evening to talk to me. Binan suddenly started doing homework in the near dark, and that was what impelled me to get my flashlight and offer it to her. We found a way to hang it up so she could work by its light. She was doing fractions, and her work attracted a lot of the other young people to cluster around and kibitz her. People go to bed early in communities like this and wake up very early, too.

Papua New Guinea Blog 8

2012-04-21T20:39:19Z

Women washing clothes at the 'wata kalop'. Photo by Jane Fajans.

After we washed our clothes, we spread them out on the grass and bushes to dry. Then we sat in the cacao grove alongside the water and cooked some plantains and waited for our clothes to dry.

Waiting for our clothes to dry, cooking bananas, and chewing betel nut. The fire is almost extinguished here. Photo by Jane Fajans.

]]> While we waited, a big hornbill (a kind of bird) flapped noisily into a tree alongside us. I was startled since I considered these to be relatively rare birds, but I was told it was a pet of one of the men who lived up the hill from where we were. Although he was a well-known bird, the young children were still fascinated with him and climbed the tree to get closer.

Pet hornbill (amaranga) that came to visit us while we were resting in the cacao grove. Photo by Jane Fajans.

Aidah and Awat talked about some projects they would like to undertake in the future. Aidah has started a women's group, which she wants to use to teach the women in the community some skills that will bring in some money. She is curious about different handicrafts and mentioned how some women in West New Britain make jewelry from seashells or turtle shells. She also mentioned bilums, which are woven carrying bags made of native twine. These bags are made and sold all around Papua New Guinea, often for a relatively high price.

She wanted some other ideas about crafts the Baining women might make. I said I would try to get some ideas from different NGOs that helped set up such projects in countries around the world. Aidah is also very interested in cooking and nutrition, and she wants some cookbooks to help create a more varied diet. I gave her a few different sauce recipes, which could be adapted in a variety of ways depending on the starches, vegetables, or meats she had available. She has set up a women's catering group within her women's group, and they have occasionally cooked for events and meetings at the government station nearby. She says her goal is self-reliance for women.

Aidah is not a Baining. She is a Tolai, a member of the neighboring ethnic group in East New Britain. She is married to a Baining and has lived there for about 12 years. Traditionally, the Tolai have been seen as very successful entrepreneurs, and quite adept at participating in the rapid development rampant in Papua New Guinea in the last 30-40 years. Aidah's interest in various non-traditional activities is an example of this perspective, and sets her apart from her Baining neighbors to a considerable degree. She is, however, interested in using some of her skills and initiatives to help the Baining move into new activities and relations with the world beyond the Baining region.

Wednesday was my last full day with the Baining. We cleaned the hamlet, cutting grass and sweeping the cleared areas. We laid out several tarps for people to sit on and collected an assortment of dishes and big leaves to serve food on.

We talked about the different kinds of food events. This farewell party we were preparing for was just a common way of saying good-bye, and not particularly traditional. We all discussed the several food events that are part of the mortuary rituals and the ways that people use food to symbolically mark their relation to the deceased. Consanguineal kin (those related by blood) give food for the feasts. Affinal kin (those related by marriage) often refuse food in these contexts, and may "taboo" a certain food like taro or pig throughout the mourning period in memory of the deceased. The big feast that marks the end of the mourning period becomes the occasion to end the food taboo. This feast includes pigs, taro, coconut cream sauce, and numerous other foods.

Another big food event occurs during amambua, when people build a huge display of food, which is then dismantled the next day and distributed to all who come to the event. I saw this display built once in 1977. Most of the people I talked with about this on Wednesday, however, had never seen it. I have promised to send this photo to them.

Food display for Amambua in 1977. Photo by Jane Fajans.

People began arriving around 6:30, when it was almost dark. We all settled on the ground and began exchanging betel nut. Everyone one was anxious to catch up and to give me relevant information about their families. My two younger 'sisters' from 1976-77, Dembi and Dagerkan, both came. Dagerkan's husband told me all about each of their marriages and children and where they had lived and worked. Dembi did not bring her husband, but did bring her almost-adult daughter. Dembi was about 14-15 when I lived here before, and had just finished school. She was learning to garden, cook, and take care of her 'child,' Awat (who was actually her sister's child).

Dagerkan was about two years younger and still in school, but she too cooked and fetched water. We three often went to fetch water together and bathe, and we all scraped coconuts to make a soup for the greens we ate almost every day. Although I was classified as sort of their peer since I was an unmarried woman, I was both older than they and considerably less able in the cooking and gardening skills. Both girls were very shy when I lived there before, but Dembi seemed to remain very shy, while Dagerkan was more talkative now.

Farewell party at night. Photo by Jane Fajans.

I circled through the crowd and tried to remember names and relations, but I became more confused as more people arrived and those I had met moved to new groups. I was afraid to call someone by the wrong name. Some people gave me individual packets of food thought to be special treats. I received a branch with four mulis, which are a kind of citrus fruit tarter than oranges but sweeter than grapefruits. I received a leaf bundle of the seasonal food, pitpit, a lovely dish of chicken in coconut milk served with noodles, and I was given an enormous cooked taro, which I was told to take with me to town the next day. I sampled each of these foods with gratitude and then contributed them to the feast (except for the mulis and taro).

Around 9:30, a group of women (and one man, Martin, my host) began dividing up the food into portions to be distributed around the hamlet to each person or group of persons. It was a skillful and time-consuming job to make sure everyone had a taste of everything, and enough food to fill up. I was glad I wasn't expected to organize this. There was indeed enough food to go around, and soon everyone was happily eating.

Women and Martin dividing the food. Photo by Jane Fajans.

As we finished, a group of men and boys faded into the woods beyond the cleared hamlet. They came back about an hour later to perform amambua. Four older men sat down to form the chorus. They began singing and pounding a length of bamboo on a log in front of them. Soon a line of boys (from about 7 to 15 years old) entered the clearing. They had headdresses made of coconut husks, wore grass skirts, and their bodies were painted with black clay. They held sticks in their hands, which were supposed to represent spears. The dance is said to represent men going off on a raiding party.

Amambua dancers in their regalia. Photo by Jane Fajans.

After the boys danced for a few minutes others, mostly girls, got up and danced among the boys. The circle widened and grew as the music continued.

Amambua dancers. Photo by Jane Fajans.

After the dance, which ended around midnight, everybody started to lie down and cover themselves with thin cloth covers. In a short while only a few people were still murmuring around the fires that dotted the clearing.

Everyone was up early the next morning; talk began around 5:30. I had to leave to catch a speedboat with Tony Friend at 7 a.m., and it was a 40-minute walk. I said good-bye to everyone, especially to the students about to leave for school. I was surprised that many of the guests decided to accompany me along the road to Friend's beach. I arrived there with an entourage of about 25 people.

We settled along the beach and waited for the boat. We waited and waited. No boat. Tony was perturbed. This had never happened before. He got out his satellite phone and called the boat people, only to find that the boat needed repairs. We waited for a report for over an hour. Then, we learned that the boat could not be repaired in time. Tony called for another boat, which had to come from Kokopo and would take two hours. Most of my friends insisted on waiting with me.

Finding a bit of shade to wait in. Photo by Jane Fajans.

I asked people to tell me stories, but most were too shy. I finally went into Tony's house and borrowed my book, and soon everyone was looking at the pictures. I promised to send copies of several of the pictures. A canoe came up to the beach, and a Tolai fisherman sold some of the women freshly caught Bluefin tuna.

Women with freshly caught Bluefin tuna. Photo by Jane Fajans.

As we waited, I became grateful for the mulis and taro I had been given the night before. I peeled and divided the mulis and the taro, and distributed it to children and hungry adults. Instead of seeming like a heavy burden, the food turned out to be really useful. The Baining always pack food when they go places, and I think they have the right idea. You never know when you might find yourself wishing you had carried it.

The boat finally arrived at 12:20. My friends and I all hugged and cried as I left, but with the warm feeling of having forged new and stronger ties. We set off for Kokopo and the Rapapo Beach hotel. Unfortunately, the sea was much rougher and choppier than it usually is at 7 a.m. since the wind had picked up, and we hit lots of waves. Because of the rough seas, it took three hours instead of two to reach the hotel. My tailbone was mighty sore from banging down over all those waves.

It seemed like much longer than 5 days since I had left Rapapo.

-Jane Fajans

Pitcairn Islands Expedition: What We Found

2012-04-19T19:40:07Z

Many of you have been following our wonderful team of explorers, including the esteemed Enric Sala and our social media savant Andrew Howley, as they conducted a nearly one-month-long tour of research in the Pitcairn Islands of the South Pacific. The object of the research was to better understand the effects of human impacts on pristine seas and biodiversity. Pristine means an environment, such as a coral reef, that is almost entirely unharmed and unaltered by anthropogenic (human) activity. Being located in the most remote corner of the Pacific Ocean, Pitcairn seemed to be a good candidate for such a study. As it turns out, the waters around the various islands are an excellent example of pristine seas, and invoked a sort of reverent awe in the minds of our seasoned scientists and team members.

In the last 3 weeks, Enric, Andrew, Michael Fay, and other vital team members visited the 4 islands of the Pitcairn Archipelago, conducting nearly 400 dives and spending over 450 person-hours underwater. They counted and documented tens of thousands of fishes, urchins, algae, and corals. You can read more about their firsthand experiences and findings, both scientific and informal, here. Aside from his interest in ocean conservation and figuring out innovative ways to mitigate the decline of pristine coral reefs and ecosystems, Dr. Sala is also a talented underwater photographer, as demonstrated below by the beautiful image of sharks swimming over thriving coral heads near Ducie Atoll.

Grey reef sharks soar above an extensive bed of coral at Ducie atoll. Photo: Enric Sala

]]> The majority of the fun in the project is past, Enric says, as the crew returns to National Geographic and their respective scientific institutions to analyze and interpret the tremendous amount of data they collected over the 3-week journey to Pitcairn. Additionally, they will select footage from the dives to use in a forthcoming National Geographic documentary. I'm sure there is much more to learn about the seas, but as long as we have curious and conscientious activists and scientists like Enric Sala, we can be assured that ecological jewels such as the reefs that lay below the waters of Pitcairn will survive in perpetuity for our ancestors to enjoy.

Be sure to check out all of the wonderful blog posts and photo galleries uploaded by Andrew during their stay on and around the islands (quite a feat considering that all communication was done over testy satellite internet connections). Also on that page is an embedded archive of our chat with Enric and Andrew in the middle of their expedition, complete with many of the questions asked by over 100 listeners that day.

-Mickey

Titanic 100th Anniversary

2012-04-18T21:01:10Z

This past weekend marked the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the R.M.S. Titanic. The R.M.S. Titanic was a British luxury ocean liner that sank in the North Atlantic after sideswiping an iceberg on its maiden voyage in April of 1912. In preparation for this tragic event, National Geographic Education has developed a collection of materials to help you teach about the Titanic in your classroom.

Ocean Exploration Timeline- Use the Ocean Exploration Timeline to see how both the sinking and discovery of the Titanic relate to and influence important events, discoveries and inventions in the history of underwater exploration.
]]> VIDEO: Undercover History: Titanic- Learn the amazing truth behind Robert Ballard's discovery of the R.M.S. Titanic. Discover how Robert Ballard used the knowledge he gained on a secret naval mission to locate the Titanic.

SPECIAL COLLECTION:
Sinking of the Titanic- Use this special collection of graphics, maps, and primary source documents to take students on a visual journey of the disaster. Download an illustration from National Geographic magazine to show students the details of how the ship sank to the ocean floor. Examine a map of the Titanic's voyage and compare it to a chart about the frequency of icebergs in the North Atlantic in April.

MapMaker Interactive-
Use the MapMaker Interactive to teach about the conditions of the water on the night the Titanic sank. Turn different thematic layers on and off to show differences in summer and winter currents and sea surface temperatures in the North Atlantic.

If you're traveling to Washington, D.C. between now and July 8, be sure to visit the exhibition Titanic: 100 Year Obsession at the National Geographic Museum while you're here.

Papua New Guinea Blog 5: Fire Dance

2012-04-17T21:23:03Z

On Tuesday, March 6, we drove up to Gaulim to make arrangements for the Baining Fire Dance. This is a traditional dance that is performed at night. The dancers wear big masks and dance around a big fire. From time to time one of the dancers will run into the fire and start kicking logs and embers and sending sparks flying across the area. The dancers are accompanied by a male chorus. The members of this chorus sing in a rapid staccato style and pound a piece of bamboo tubing on top of a large piece of wood. The music is very energetic and the dancers also move energetically--and sometimes frantically--around the dance ground. The shadows of the mask, the sparks of the fire, and the pounding music make this a very dramatic performance.

The village is about an hour from Kokopo, the capital of East New Britain. The road to the village goes up into the mountains and then about halfway down the backside of one mountain. The road is good until about 6 km (3.7 miles) before the village, and then turns into a very rutted track. On Tuesday, the road was dry so we could bump along it up to the edge of the village, but on Friday, when we went back for the actual dance, the road was all mud due to a recent rain.

Because we had called ahead and said we were coming, there were a number of people (men, women, and children) waiting for us in the village. Normally, everyone would be out in the gardens at this time of day. Having cell phones and cell phone coverage is a recent, and very welcome, change in this region. As I found out later, coverage is not available in other parts of the Baining territory.

On the way up to the village, we stopped at a small roadside stand to buy betel nut, the fruit of the areca palm that is widely chewed in Papua New Guinea (and elsewhere in the Pacific and Southeast Asia), and often combined with the fruit of a pepper plant and powdered lime. When mixed together, these three components turn bright red in the mouth and give a slight burst of energy, or buzz. Betel nut is used as a form of greeting among the Baining. Instead of a handshake, people exchange betel nut with one another, and if they have time, chew it together. People say that conversation goes better with betel nut (called "buai" in tok pisin, the local lingua franca). You should not swallow the betel nut, so people spit the red juice that collects in their mouths out on the ground. In many places in town there are signs forbidding the spitting of betel nut, but in the rural areas where the ground is dirt or grass, people just spit wherever they want. When you see people with very red mouths like bright lipstick, it is because of the betel nut.

We came up to the village and James and I (James was our driver) exchanged betel nut with the people in the picture below. The Australians with us did not understand this custom until they saw us do it. When I chewed betel nut with the residents of Gaulim, everyone laughed and the children ran around telling others. It is not common for non-Papua New Guineans to chew it.

Gaulim villagers outside one house. Photo by Jane Fajans.

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A film crew walked around this small village looking for the best site for their lights and cameras. They asked where the fire would be, where the dancers would enter, where the chorus would sing, and other related questions. We were taken down a path outside the hamlet to a small house made of bush materials where the masks are stored, and were shown where the dancers would don their regalia and line up to dance into the plaza, where the fire and chorus would be waiting. We learned there would be about fifteen or twenty dancers, and that they had a small python in a bag, which one of the dancers would carry onto the dance ground where the dance would take place. The role of the python is small: It is held by a dancer on one end and a boy of about 10-14 years on the other end, sort of like a jump rope. We were shown the python, which was small in their terms but still about 8 feet long. After the dance they would probably eat the python, but we did not witness that.

Small house where the masks are stored. You can just see one mask of white bark cloth in the corner. Photo by Jane Fajans

While talking to the villagers, I mentioned one of the local foods that I remembered as being in season around this time. It is called pitpit and is a starchy food that grows on the stalk of a plant distantly related to sugar cane, although the food is not sweet. They promised me a dish of pitpit when I came back on Friday, and they indeed had it ready for me (us, as I shared it around) when we returned later in the week.

We went back on Friday around 2 o'clock, and, as I mentioned above, the road was muddy and we had to walk up to the village. Many of the villagers helped us carry the equipment.

Some of the equipment we brought with us. This quantity of "cargo" astounded the locals. Photo by Jane Fajans

One of the big jobs for the film production was to set up a large light that floats inside a helium balloon. We had gotten permission from the Baining to use this light because we described it as being like a moon that would float over the clearing. Usually, the fire is the only light at a fire dance, but it is very hard to get photos or video footage by such a light. Mid-afternoon we started to set up the balloon.

Ted filling the balloon light with helium. Photo by Jane Fajans

There were some problems with the balloon because the generator that was supposed to supply the electricity for the light broke down. Since we were miles from a replacement, the crew managed to salvage the night by using a smaller generator to shine a production light onto the surface of the balloon. This solution in fact made the balloon look much like a moon, and provided sufficient light.

Jim Cameron, his adviser Maria Wilhelm, and many others arrived in the late afternoon and watched the final preparations.

Jim tasting some of the pitpit mumu which I had opened and shared around. Maria is taking pictures, mostly of the children. Photo by Jane Fajans

Jim and the newcomers were taken down to see the mask house and the beginnings of the preparations.

Around 6 p.m. the men and boys began carrying in huge bundles of firewood for the fire and arranging boards and logs for the chorus to sit on and pound their bamboo instruments against. The boys set it up and started a small fire. The crew didn't like where the fire was, nor did they like where the set up for the chorus was, so we rearranged it. The boys moved it back again, the crew moved it again, and finally everyone agreed that it was fine. Then, the fire was sort of kicked and shoved about 5-6 feet over, and that pleased everyone, too.

The chorus sat down around 6:45 when it was dark, but didn't start singing until a few more men came into the plaza to join them. Finally, around 7:30 or so, one of the older men ran into the plaza and told the chorus the dancers were coming, and they started singing. The line of dancers waited out of sight while each dancer entered the plaza and danced solo in front of the chorus for a few minutes. When the rhythm changed, that dancer was free to move to the side and a new dancer would come in. The first dancer was called lingen and had a lampshade-like hat on. The production crew asked us not to use flashes on our personal cameras while they were filming, so my photos of the dance did not come out so well.

Not a good picture of the Lingen dancer. Photo by Jane Fajans

The next dancers wore the kavat masks, made out of bamboo frames and bark cloth covering. They were painted with big googly eyes and wide platypus-like bills, as seen in the picture above. The dancers' bodies were covered in long grass and flowers.

Kavat dancer dancing in front of us. Photo by Jane Fajans

There is a third kind of dancer who wears a large frame on either side of him. This frame is woven with pandanus leaf designs. That night the design consisted of rows of flowers. This regalia is very ungainly, and the dancer did not stay on the dance ground very long. None of my photos of him came out well.

During a fire dance, the dancers dance in place in front of the chorus and then break out and run around the fire and frequently run or jump into it, and kick the wood and embers around. Sometimes they pick up pieces of wood and throw them around, too. The young boys are in charge of keeping the fire going. This alternation of dancing and running through the fire continues until just before the sun comes up, at which point the masked dancers are supposed to stamp out the fire and return to the bush.

The masks are said to be representatives of bush spirits that live in the forest. The Baining say that people who walk around in the forest alone may meet these spirits, and then they come back to the village and make a mask inspired by the spirit they encountered. They do not talk very much about the meaning of the dance. Where I lived with the North Baining--the next group over--they described the dances as play, an activity which carries many of the meanings it does for us: both an activity opposed to work, and a performance or spectacle. The dance is certainly a spectacle enjoyed not only by outsiders like us, but by the Baining themselves. As the evening progressed, more and more Baining from the surrounding hamlets came into our hamlet to enjoy the dance and to watch the weird antics of the film crew.

We did not stay until the sun came up, but left shortly after midnight. Everyone was fascinated by the dance and the experience of being in the village, and it was a hugely successful event.

--Jane Fajans

Papua New Guinea Blog 4: On Board the Mermaid Sapphire

2012-04-17T16:32:16Z

Jane Fajans is a professor of Anthropology at Cornell University. She was invited to join the James Cameron expedition during their time in Papua New Guinea and share her insights into the culture of the Baining people. Jane conducted fieldwork with the Baining on the island of Papua New Guinea, near the Mariana Trench in the South Pacific.

On Monday morning I woke up to find a major change in plans: We had expected that the ship would be delayed down at Jacquinot Bay for a few more days while the dives continued [the preliminary test-dives of James Cameron's DEEPSEA CHALLENGER submarine], but learned that the ship would be heading into Rabaul and would dock in a few hours. They were looking to re-provision the ship and change crews, since the new crew had just arrived in Rabaul (several of the new crew were the friends I had climbed the volcano with). The ship (actually two ships since the main ship, the Mermaid Sapphire, is accompanied by a second ship) would be in the harbor in a few hours.

Maria Wilhelm, James Cameron's business strategist and all-around adviser, sent word that I should come aboard. I was very excited and drove to Rabaul with Rob MacCallum, the local coordinator. First, we stopped at the heliport to pick up some groceries that were scheduled to be flown down to the ship, but could now be loaded right onto it. Second, we stopped at a supermarket and ordered lots more groceries. Third, we stopped at a pharmacy (called a "chemist" in Australian and Papua New Guinean dialect) and ordered other supplies. We arrived in Rabaul just as the ship lowered its gangway to allow us to board.

The ship the Mermaid Sapphire. Photo by Jane Fajans.

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Shortly after I arrived on the ship wearing a hard hat, construction jacket, and visitor's pass, I was greeted by Maria, rapidly introduced to about half-a-dozen more people, and then shepherded onto the bridge where Jim Cameron was about to hold a debrief on his most recent dive. I felt really privileged to be allowed to attend the meeting. There were about thirty people crowded around the map table, as well as three cameras, sound men, and different science teams scattered around the room. Each team member had an assigned position in the room, marked by a piece of masking tape on the floor with his/her name (mostly men, however). I hung out in the back.

Jim proceeded to describe his most recent dive from the previous evening. He had reached 7,200 meters below sea level, but unfortunately had to abort before he reached the bottom. This was the deepest any single-occupant submersible had reached, and was getting very close to the goal. He aborted because of a few computer glitches and a problem with the thrusters being very slow to react to commands, which made him unsure as to whether he was drifting, or not.

Jim described the various aspects of the dive and the things he wanted checked, worked on, and changed. He read from some notes he had taken before the meeting, but was basically describing the process of descent and movement from his memory and his tactile sensations of the dive. He was very articulate and created a vivid picture of the operation. For instance, he described how he became uncertain about the speed of descent when he saw one reading on his computer screen, but could see and feel a different rate of descent out of the window by looking at the rate at which water particles flowed upward through a beam of light outside the capsule. He wondered if his computer readings were somewhat delayed.

After the meeting broke up, the various participants drifted away. Since I knew some of the crew from our stay together in Rabaul, I felt comfortable exploring the ship a bit. I saw that the ship had two bridges. The main bridge is used for steering the ship when traveling in normal mode. The second bridge, where we had just held our debriefing meeting, is used when the crew is operating the lifts and machines for deploying the submarine, and while it is diving.

The ship also has a major communications center at which many people often crowd together, sending and receiving updates on all aspects of this mammoth operation. Maria and I used the room to Skype with my daughter, Vanessa, who is Maria's assistant. After a lovely chat with her, I felt reconnected to my other life, and Maria passed on new information and instructions for Vanessa to look into while we went off to lunch. Work done, I passed on to Maria the chocolate bars I had hand-carried from Upstate New York, along with the phone charger she had left behind in Washington, D.C.

Lunch was in the ship's mess. There was a big variety of food, from soup and salad to fish, meat, rice, vegetables, and desserts. It was an informal and friendly place, and many of the team came and sat and talked with me while I was there. Maria was trying to do a dozen things at once with dozens of people who would be scattering to three or four different places once the ship sailed. I remained sitting in the mess, talking with scientists, doctors, journalists, and others whose specialties I didn't even learn until it was time to sail and all non-travelers were sent ashore.

James Cameron and team after the debriefing, checking the navigation charts.

Photo by Jane Fajans

--Jane Fajans

Papua New Guinea Post 3: Touring Caves and Volcanoes

2012-04-11T19:14:57Z

Yesterday I went on a tour of East New Britain area, or that part which is readily accessible and thus included in such a tour. Parts like the Baining Mountains are generally not considered in this category because they are too hard to get to. We started out from Kokopo, which is now the Provincial Capital of East New Britain. It is about thirty kilometers from the old Capital of Rabaul. Along the road towards Rabaul, we stopped at several caves. These caves are dug into the pumice cliffs along the steep escarpment which forms the ancient caldera of the volcano, which formed Rabaul Harbor.

Rabaul Harbor was a very important naval base and armed forces headquarters for the Japanese Army during World War II. There are still many remnants of their occupation all around the region.

The cliffs below were dug into the hillside by the Japanese armed forces during World War II. They dug these tunnels in order to pull some of their naval ships out of the harbor when Allied planes were sighted. The ships, mostly barges and tenders, were lifted out of the water by cranes and loaded onto railway track that led into the cave. The barges were thus dragged into the tunnels to avoid being seen and bombed. The biggest remaining tunnel, cutting deep into the mountain, can hold seven barges.

Photo by Jane Fajans.

We also drove by a small volcano called Vulcan, which locals watched emerge from the bay in 1937. Back then, as the Tavurvur volcano erupted, a cone of earth and magma began rising from the water, forming Vulcan. The two volcanoes remained active; they erupted again in 1994. Tavurvur also erupted in 2006.

Vulcan Volcano seen from Kokopo Road. Photo by Jane Fajans.

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We drove into the town of Rabaul, which is quite abandoned now. The part of the town farthest from the volcano looks relatively normal. However, as you get closer to the volcano, the town begins to look more abandoned and bedraggled. Instead of neatly delineated streets with houses set in rows along them, the streets look like vehicle tracks with houses scattered around, but not filling the space.

Rabaul and Harbor from overlook point. Photo by Jane Fajans.

As one drives closer towards the volcano, the scene begins to look more and more like a post-apocalyptic world with dust blowing across a grey landscape, and just a few tree trunks standing amid the ash. The volcano itself is totally bare. As one walks across this landscape, one realizes that the surface of the slope is not hardened rock, but relatively soft pumice or ash.

Ash at the bottom of Tavurvur Volcano. Photo by Jane Fajans.

Walking up a slope or along a ridge, the surface crumbles and slides. It is very hard to walk on, in part because of the numerous gullies and ravines. We had to cross a large ash field before we even reached the volcano. Trying to cross one of the ravines, the rock I placed my foot on across the gap gave way and I twisted my ankle. It didn't feel too painful at the time, but began to hurt more when I was about half-way up the volcanic cone. I decided not to continue to the top. I felt bad, but my companions did reach the top, and took these photos.

Looking into the volcano's crater. Photo by Steve Bachfur.

Steve on the rim of the crater. Photo by Bill Rendell.

I'm glad that no one got too close to the edge of the volcano.

Just sitting on the side of the crater, I could feel the heat coming through the rock. I sat on a large rock, which was one of many rocks that were thrown out of the volcano while it was erupting. People who witnessed this described it as "raining rocks."

When we got down from the volcano we were covered with black dust, and my hair was standing straight up thanks to a combination of the wind and the ash. We then went to lunch at the Rabaul Hotel--but we washed off under their hose before we went into the dining room. I felt like I had shed an outer casing. I think the ash layer helped insulate me from the sun, so I didn't get too sunburned.

After lunch we had one last stop at a site called Submarine Bay. Here, the shore drops very precipitously into the deep ocean. Because of this sudden drop, submarines used to be able to come up within a few yards of the shore. There, they could re-provision and hide in the relatively sheltered cove. On the cliff above this bay, the Japanese built a big canon to shoot any enemy ships that threatened their submarines. The man who now owns this land (it is his traditional land but was taken by the Japanese when they invaded New Guinea) was a boy of about 8-10 when the Japanese were here. He looks after this site now.

Japanese canon overlooking the submarine harbor. Photo by Steve Bachfur.

--Jane Fajans

Connect The Dots

2012-04-09T21:06:33Z

Shannon Switzer is an award-winning photographer, published writer, and National Geographic Young Explorer whose work focuses on ocean conservation.

James Cameron's first solo dive to the Challenger Deep has brought a lot of attention to the area in which it lies, known as the Mariana Trench. The fascination with this area is well deserved and long standing. In 2009, former president George W. Bush even found the area important enough to designate the Mariana Archipelago as a national marine monument in one of his final acts in office.

This didn't happen overnight. It took several years of focused energy and cooperation among NGOs, Congressional staff, and scientists to accomplish. One of the key players in convincing Bush to create the monument was ocean activist and founder of the Ocean Future's Society, Jean-Michel Cousteau, son of famous ocean explorer Jacques Cousteau. I interviewed him when the announcement was made in January 2009.

Jean-Michel Cousteau inspects some coral in Papua New Guinea. Photograph by Carrie Vonderhaar, Ocean Futures Society.

During the interview, Cousteau recalled what set the ball rolling: an expedition and a film.
"It started back in 2005. It was my dream for many years to go to the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands. I wanted to explore there. I guess I got that from my dad," said Cousteau. "So we went and were blown away by the diversity of life. But, in addition, on all of those remote islands was junk: all types of trash, plastic, metal, glass. You name it." Cousteau explained that he and his team witnessed how the man-made flotsam was killing the ecosystem. An accompanying film crew turned the footage from the trip into the PBS feature Voyage to Kure, the title of which refers to the last island in the chain.

From there, Cousteau explained how he eventually connected with James Connaughton, the White House Council Chair on Environmental Quality, who happened to be an avid diver. In April 2005, Connaughton organized a trip for government officials to see the islands, with Cousteau as their guide. "Everyone got together and stopped fighting," Cousteau recalled. This successful trip led President Bush to invite Cousteau to screen Voyage to Kure at the White House. According to Cousteau, after the screening Bush looked at him and said, "Let's get it done."

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I mention all of this because it connects to several of the themes I've written about on this blog during the course of the DEEPSEA CHALLENGE. In Voyage to Kure we see how exploration, visual documentation, and storytelling come together in a powerful way to convince a government administration with a not-so-environmentally-friendly record to protect a vast swath of the world's oceans. It was practically a miracle, and it happened because people explored a part of the natural world, fell in love with it, were inspired to take better care of it, and then shared their experience with others. Imagine the potential that DEEPSEA CHALLENGE has to inspire the same type of change and caring.

Another beautiful thing about Bush's establishment of these marine monuments is that it was put in motion not only by the Ocean's Future Society, but by a collaborative group of marine conservation nonprofits dedicated to protecting our oceans.

While conducting my various grants and projects on water quality, I have worked with fantastic local organizations like WiLDCOAST, San Diego Ocean's Foundation, San Diego River Park Foundation, San Diego River Conservancy, and San Diego Coastkeeper, and I have seen firsthand the invaluable and tireless work they do. So, for this final post, I would like to highlight some international marine organizations that are really making a difference.
For teachers and parents out there, take a look at the educational resources each NGO provides on its website, and see how you can incorporate their suggestions into your classroom and at home.

5 GYRES
This plastic pollution fighter explores, researches, and documents the plastic "islands" that have infiltrated the 5 subtropical gyres of our oceans. The mission of 5 Gyres is to spread knowledge about the global impact of plastic pollution, and employ strategies to eliminate its accumulation. They hope that the very concept of "waste" will disappear forever.

SURFRIDER INTERNATIONAL
Surfrider International was founded twenty-five years ago by three guys who wanted to save their iconic point-break in Malibu, California. From these humble beginnings, it has grown to 84 chapters in 15 different countries. The organization pushes grassroots efforts to protect local beaches, waves, and coastlines, and our enjoyment of them.

BLUE OCEAN INSTITUTE
Blue Ocean Institute focuses on sharing reliable information about the state of the ocean and its marine life that "enlightens personal choices, instills hope, and restores living abundance in the ocean." This organization's goal is to bring together science, art, and literature to inspire people to care about the ocean. They are particularly interested in providing information that will help people make wise choices about eating seafood sustainably.

OCEAN CONSERVANCY
Established forty years ago, Ocean Conservancy facilitates productive communication that creates practical policies to protect the ocean and improve our quality of life. It does so by getting government officials, big businesses, and policy makers to listen to what scientists, conservation organizations, and citizen advocates have to say.

These are only a few of my favorites. Use them as a jumping-off point to make new discoveries as you surf the web! Also, MarineBio.Org is a great resource for a more complete listing.

Thank you for staying tuned. Let's all work together for an ocean we can be proud to pass on to the next generation!

--Shannon Switzer