Drift Time: Skills for a New World

Spring 2007

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 Alan Wilson

It’s evening and I’m sitting on the sand with my back against a log at my favorite campsite in the Broken Group Islands, tired but happy after a day paddling among these evergreen encrusted gems. I’m gazing into the northwest where the sun has just dropped over the horizon and the sky is still tinged with pink. It’s hard not to feel that all is right with the world.

I’m wishing that more people could have this experience, spending a few days drifting over the intertidal world, feeling the powerful surge and suck of the ocean swell, playing among caves and arches, then stretching out on the sand in the evening.

Glancing along the beach, I can see a couple seated by a small campfire, obviously enjoying the romantic sunset. It reminds me that I don’t see as many campfires as I used to. The “low impact camping” message seems to be sinking in, especially among those who choose self-powered activities like paddling.

Maybe it’s partly the result of slowing down, drifting in silence, trying not to spook the wildlife we see, coming to feel more a part of nature instead of separate from it. And hopefully that feeling extends as we “return to the world,” to all the engines, the rush, the blaze of lights and tempers.

I now notice that the tide has about reached its maximum, having risen well up the beach. It’s lapping just below where my kayak is pulled up near my tent under an overhanging cedar. From here it will drop to low tide by 4 a.m.

At more extremes of the tidal cycle it must reach right up to the base of the shoreline trees. And in the future...how high will the tide go?

It causes a lump in my throat to realize that this perfect scene could be lost some day as sea levels rise from global warming. How many more visits will I be able to make here? How soon will my charts be out of date?

With glaciers melting at unprecedented rates, and more severe, erosive weather events predicted, the plight for beaches such as this is bleak. Storm surges would sweep away the majestic trees even before the sea inundates these islands.

The fourth report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change warns that global warming is happening faster and will be more devastating than previously thought. We could hit nearly 6°C warming this century if we don’t undertake radical changes quickly.

The last time the earth was just 2°C warmer than now was 130,000 years ago, and sea levels were six metres higher. Three million years ago, it was 3°C warmer and sea levels were twenty-five metres higher.

The IPCC suggests sea levels could rise sixty centimetres (two feet) by 2100, but other scientists think the rise could be much greater and faster. Whatever the timeline, future paddlers may have to find other destinations. Our descendants might never know this beach.

Among mariners, paddlers will be some of the first affected if our launches, campsites and marine parks are flooded. Intertidal areas and wetlands will be permanently submerged, tipping the balance for threatened and endangered species.

This threat to the precious few protected areas on the coast demands that more precautionary measures be taken now and more habitat preserved. Wildlife forced to relocate by the rising waters must have somewhere to go. The conservation targets of the past are no longer good enough.

Beyond the impacts on nature, of course, are threats to waterfront property, resorts, port facilities, ferry terminals, low-lying agriculture lands and airports.

Above me now in the darkening sky, a distant jet thunders along miles high, spewing C02 through the upper atmosphere. This could be an army transport, ferrying hundreds of soldiers to the Middle East, oil executives returning from a meeting, or a charter flight of tourists en route to a holiday destination. Whoever they are, I hope they’ve got good reasons for their trip—a thousand campfires scorching the sky.

Scientists say we have only a few years to halt a slide to irreversible climate change and international chaos. Isn’t it ironic that while the militaries of this world are busy defending national security, they’re actually among those causing the greatest impacts on the planet? The US military is the largest consumer of petroleum on Earth and the single largest public greenhouse gas emitter in the US, accounting for nearly half of federal government use.

The Kyoto Protocol attempted to control world military emissions—a key reason it did not sit well with certain governments.

I bring this up because we have to make the connections. Our world is addicted to militarism and oil. We need to learn the true costs of these addictions and face the contradictions involved.

From our special sea level perspective, paddlers can be an important voice. We need to extend our skillset beyond rescues and rolling, to skills in changing the world. We need to develop safety skills in the broadest sense and take risk management to a new level.

Our paddling clubs are an ideal place to start. I urge you all to take it up at your next meeting.

Let’s apply our low impact ethic in all realms of our life, further reducing our own emissions and encouraging our families, friends and neighbors to do the same. Let’s work through our professional and industry associations to create change.

A paddler’s wake may be negligible on the water, but we need to make significant waves in the world if we are to save what we love.