Can Paddlers Save the World?

June-July 2006

This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.
To download a pdf copy of the magazine click here: > DOWNLOAD

by Neil Schulman
Wetlands may lack popular appeal, but paddlers are a natural constituency.

A bill in the Oregon State Legislature woke a sleeping giant. Now I just hope the giant stays awake.

The giant was Oregon’s community of paddlers. Last summer, emails started flying around about Senate Bill 1028. When I saw the fine print, I realized the bill did two things. First, it charged a $20 registration fee for every kayak, canoe, rowing shell or other human-powered craft. Second—hidden in legalese, but more insidious—it named some Oregon waterways as “non-navigable” and for all intents and purposes privatized and closed to fishing, boating and recreation.

The bill was on the fast track. It was sponsored by the leadership of both Republican and Democratic parties, and the Governor was hedging. It looked like a hard train to stop. In the States, river access laws are obscure and date back to the 19th century, so they’re tough targets around which to rally people. But the proponents made a mistake by throwing in the boat-registration fee—an easy way to get paddlers riled up.

The email flurries began, joined by fishermen, a group with a similar interest but who were much more organized. Soon the ire shifted from the boat registration issue to an understanding of the greater threat to our right to float rivers.

Do environmentally active paddlers have more fun? Ask Jodi and Gabriel.

A few weeks later, the Senate held its first committee hearing on the bill. The paddlers’ email network became a strategy session, listing which committee members to target and supplying examples of emails sent to legislators. At the hearing, 30 people spoke about the bill—one in favor, 29 against. The bill never got out of committee. As I write this, the Oregon public still has the right to float the state’s waterways, regardless of who owns the shoreline. Like our beaches, the rivers still belong to the people.

Inspiring as that story is, it can be relatively rare for sea kayakers to become such a force. Other groups have a much stronger history of environmental activism. Much of American river conservation dates from the transformation of whitewater boaters like Martin Litton and Tim Palmer into environmental activists. Among their many wins were the National Wild and Scenic River System and stopping the damming of the Grand Canyon. Likewise, recreational and commercial fishing have some strong lobbying and activist networks working to protect wild salmon from dam operations and fish farms.

But sea kayakers, for some reason I can’t pin down, seem to be more reluctant to get involved, at least in the States. When the topic of conservation comes up, folks will nod, and then the conversation shifts back to how to initiate a bow rudder. But the tide is turning. Here’s what you can do to be part of the growing conservation movement among sea kayakers.

GET YOUR HANDS DIRTY

There’s a lot of work to be done, and one way you can help is by rolling up your sleeves. Trees need to be planted, noxious weeds pulled, water quality samples collected, stream habitat restored—and that’s all work done by volunteers. Wherever you live, there’s a group that can use your help

USE YOUR VOICE

But on-the-ground volunteering isn’t going to be enough. We all know that environmental health also depends on laws—until fish farms are properly regulated and streams are protected, our environment will be at risk. And the only way to make that happen is to affect the ways our governments make decisions.

The fact is, the folks who hold the reins and the purse strings—elected officials, agency staff—respond to pressure. Even if they want to do the right thing, the other side is pressuring them too. So paddlers need to talk and write letters and emails to the folks who make the decisions, speak up at hearings and make their voices heard.

This can be intimidating. Like many reading this magazine, I’m more comfortable in a paddle jacket than a suit jacket. And I’m happier in a boat than a meeting room. But as you’ll see, it doesn’t need to be hard or scary. And more importantly, it works.

VOTE

Obviously, who makes the laws is a big issue. In all probability, everyone reading this votes, but do you know how your elected officials vote on environmental topics? And not everyone votes in the small local elections, like for the City Council, or the bond measure that will acquire new parks. In the US, most elections are decided not in the general election but in the primary, where sometimes as little as 30% of the electorate even bothers to vote. Take the few minutes to find out how your local representatives are voting on environmental issues.

PUT YOUR MONEY WHERE YOUR PADDLE IS

We’ve all taken on a gear-intensive sport. A carbon fiber paddle costs $375 US. A Gore tex drysuit costs about $850. And that doesn’t even include the kayak. On the other hand, calling 2,000 voters before a local election costs about $780 here in Oregon in phone costs, voter lists, and staff time. Make regular contributions—even if it’s a small amount—to some conservation groups that you value.

SO THAT’S WHAT NEEDS TO BE DONE

But it’s an intimidating mix, right? We all have day jobs, kids to pick up at school, and we’re not independently wealthy. And some of this stuff is hideously complex. How we can pull this off?

Well the fact is, we can pull it off—and we can have a heck of a good time in the process.

  1. Have buddies. This issue is about paddling partners—and the same buddies you paddle with can be your buddies when it comes time to protecting your favorite natural places. Even though ‘environmental advocacy’ may not sound as much fun as paddling, it can be a blast when you’re doing it with good folks.

  2. Get Local. We’re bombarded daily by messages about ‘the global environmental crisis’. Global Warming, melting of the ice caps, the ozone hole, dying coral reefs. Forget about that for now—think about your neighborhood, and what’s going on where you live and paddle. Don’t give into the gloom. Focus on the areas you love.

  3. You don’t have to be an expert. To be effective at pushing a good decision through the local city council or state or provincial legislature, you don’t need to be an expert on ‘Total Maximum Daily Loads’ or ‘Township-Range-Section of Pesticide Use Reporting’. There are plenty of conservation groups that will happily contact you when a key issue is coming up, boil the issues down to common English, and tell you who to call or email. Most conservation groups have activists’ networks you can join.

  4. Numbers Matter. No elected official or key agency staffer will listen to one person. They listen to numbers. No one letter, no matter how well-written, will matter as much as 25 or 50. The goal is to let folks know that a lot of people want them to do something—vote this way on that bill, make sure parks are funded in the budget cycle, and so forth. We win when a lot us do a tiny bit, at the right time—we lose when a handful of us try to do everything. Your best move is to get in the habit of adding your voice regularly.

  5. Don’t be intimidated. Sure, talking to public officials can be intimidating. Sometimes they’ll ignore what you say anyway. On the other hand, I live in a city of 1.6 million people, but I still run into the head of the local parks department and my Metro Councilor at the coffee shop. Don’t let the intimidation factor stop you. It’s simply your right as a citizen in a democracy.

  6. It’s fun. If you think conservation is a lonely business, think again. You’ll meet some great comrades-in-arms. Chances are a bunch of them are paddlers, too.

ONE HOUR A PADDLE

Every time I go paddling, I’m thankful— for blue water, birds soaring overhead, wild places, and wild things that have adapted to living side by side with us. I figure I owe something—specifically, an hour. For every day I paddle, I figure I should give an hour back somehow— helping plant trees, restoring habitat, and advocating for wild places. It’s an easy promise to keep.

WE CAN WIN

After I finish this article, I’m going to paddle around Ross Island in the Willamette River. In the middle of urban Portland, I’ll paddle under active Bald Eagle and Great Blue Heron nests. Upstream of the island is Oaks Bottom wetlands, the first Wildlife Refuge created in Portland. It was going to be paved to make a racetrack until a bunch of citizens banded together and told the city they wanted wildlife and trails instead. The city listened. Now they’re trying to acquire Ross Island and add it to the refuge. And the chances are good that it will happen. Maybe even before this article goes to print.

© Neil Schulman is the training coordinator for an environmental leadership development program, and is a steering committee member for the Oregon League of Conservation Voters. He works and plays in Portland, Oregon.

SOME GROUPS TO CONTACT

OREGON

Oregon League of Conservation Voters: www.olcv.org

Portland Audubon Society: www.audubonportland.org

WASHINGTON

People for Puget Sound: www.pugetsound.org

BRITISH COLUMBIA

Georgia Strait Alliance: www.georgiastrait.org

Friends of Clayoquot Sound: www.focs.ca