“That would be nice.”
He smiled warmly. “I hope we’re invited!”
“So do I. Maybe we could be there in small boats.”
Preston took a long sip from the mug. “This is very good coffee.”
“Thank you. My husband always rose early to go out fishing, and he liked a good strong cup of kope before going out the door, and more in his thermos.”
“I’m sorry that Tiny and I had our disagreements. I deeply regret that I could not see the merit of his claim. Just because my lawyers were relentless in my defense does not make my stand right. I see that now.”
“Thank you for saying these things. I want us to be friends, good friends.”
“So do I.” Preston hesitated, wanting to say more but afraid to do so. She waited, seeming to sense that he had something more to tell her.
Finally he said it, an idea that came to him in the middle of the night as he lay in bed. “I’ve spent my life accumulating things, including land. Now I would like to put my assets to better use. I want to return my entire ranch property to the Hawaiian people—the hotel, the aquatic park, the beaches and grazing lands, all of it. It is Hawaiian land, and should be for the native people.”
The woman looked stunned. “I am overwhelmed.”
He wiped tears from his eyes, took a long, deep breath. “My wife Hermione once suggested that I set aside at least a hundred acres as a preserve for the old Hawaiian families—something they could put to good use, their own use. I disagreed with her at the time, but a lot of things have happened since she died, and I’ve changed my mind. Now I’d like to go even farther than she envisioned, donating the entire Ellsworth Ranch, amounting to tens of thousands of acres, the largest property on Loa’kai Island. I want to place it in an irrevocable trust, and appoint you as trustee, with all of the income going to native Hawaiians. Perhaps you can organize them to take a vote on what should be done with the property. If they want it to continue as a tourist hotel –“ He smiled. “A haole tourist hotel, all of the income should go to native Hawaiian causes. If they want the buildings torn down and the property put to other uses, I will not oppose that, either.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I’m sure.”
Her eyes misted over. “Tiny would appreciate this fine and generous gift. Thank you very, very much.”
“I also intend to put my media empire to much better use, publicizing native Hawaiian issues, and promoting the welfare of the ocean. I’ll donate the profits for environmental purposes—Hawaiian parks, ocean protection, and the like. I’d like you to serve on a board to make those decisions, too.”
Now she looked at him as if she was having trouble believing him, as if she was wondering if he had lost his mind and wouldn’t really take all those radical actions he was promising.
“I’ll have my attorney contact you,” he said, rising to his feet. “He’ll work out the details to your satisfaction.”
“My satisfaction on behalf of the native people,” she said, “and the ocean.”
“Of course.”
She led him to the door, where he reached out in a very dignified manner to shake her hand. Instead of accepting his hand, though, she gathered him close and gave him a strong hug. “You are a good man,” she said. “A very good man.”
***
Chapter 9
Early in the afternoon, Alicia stood at the podium of a university auditorium in Honolulu, gazing out on a sea of faces. Every seat was filled, but not with students. These were all experts in the science, politics, and laws of the ocean, gathered from the ranks of Sea Warriors (including associate members), and from non-members around the world. Adding to these leading authorities, there were others involved in the proceedings as well, though not physically present—Gwyneth, Pauline, and thirty-seven other Sea Warriors who had metamorphosed too much to walk upon the land. They were gathered in the water off Diamond Head, and would be kept advised of the discussions through a relay system—other Sea Warriors who went back and forth regularly, to obtain comments and suggestions from those who could not easily go ashore.
She glanced down at Kimo and his cousin Jimmy, sitting together in the front row, wearing short-sleeve Hawaiian shirts. Jimmy had obtained the use of the auditorium from the university at no charge—donated by educators who were interested in the welfare of the ocean. Kimo had moderated the proceedings all morning, and had asked her to lead the discussion after the lunch break. Fuji had arranged for tight security for the meeting, because of all the curiosity about what would be included in the revolutionary new Declaration of Ocean Independence.
Looking at the main door, Alicia saw two men enter the chamber, carrying cardboard boxes.
“Ah,” she said, “here are the printouts now. They will be handed out to each of you, so that you can review the concepts we discussed this morning and see how they’re taking shape. So far, we have a preliminary outline of the declaration, and some suggested language. Kimo and I think it’s a good start, but we have a lot more work to do. Some people might think the measures are draconian, but they are necessary until humans learn how to behave properly, and then perhaps some of the controls can be eased off—but never completely. We must always have a system of strict inspection and enforcement, and violators need to be punished severely.”
Alicia received her own copy and perused it, noting the opening Statement of Purpose for the meetings, stating that the experts were gathering in order to come up with “a legal document that will forever protect the interests of the worldwide ocean, and the living organisms that inhabit those waters.”
In the body of the outline she noted another heading, Dumping at Sea and Carelessness, and draft wording that banned the dumping of garbage, plastics, sewage, industrial chemicals, nuclear materials or by-products, or any other materials foreign to the ocean. Notes indicated that some of these items—such as sewage, industrial chemicals, and nuclear materials—might be moved into a separate Marine Pollution heading.
Another heading—Damage Caused by Ships and Boats—would cause an even more monumental change in human behavior, because it would eventually prohibit all motorized vessels in the water, even banning backup motors for sailing vessels. The prohibition would be completed under a timetable of a few years, and would affect not only private vessels and commercial cargo ships, but military vessels as well, including submarines. All would be banned, if they were motorized. Only approved watercraft would be permitted to use the sea—sailboats, windsurfing boards, human-powered craft (such as rowboats, kayaks, racing skiffs, and paddleboats), and the like. There would be no more greasy, leaking cargo ships or oil tankers, no more radiation-saturated nuclear-powered submarines, and no more massive, fast-moving container ships or aircraft carriers running over northern right whales, finbacks, humpbacks, and other large animals on the surface, killing them.
Dirk Avondale expected a lot of pushback from the military and commercial interests on the engine ban—as they would argue that gasoline, nuclear-powered, and diesel engines could be banned to avoid the danger of leaks, while allowing solar- or steam-powered engines. That might be acceptable if there were meaningful controls on noise and other problems, but both Kimo and Dirk felt it was important not to provide human beings with any loopholes, or soon they would attempt to enlarge them into something big enough to drive a hundred battleships through, eventually destroying each prohibition entirely. As Kimo put it to the attendees that morning, “Our new regulations must have teeth. They must be strictly enforced.”
There would be restrictions on cargoes that could be hauled as well, preventing the movement of any petroleum products or other hazardous materials over the water. As one example, no oil tankers of any kind would be allowed, even if they were wind-powered.
A large portion of the declaration would be dedicated to dealing with the problem of overfishing, a practice that had depleted so many species of marine life. There would be a prohibition against commercial,
private, and sport fishing, whaling, tuna-seining, crabbing, lobstering, and any other endeavor that involves the removal of living organisms from the ocean, including bans on the collection of sea cucumbers and seaweed, and prohibiting the collection of shellfish by any means. No more abalone, clams, oysters, mussels, or geoducks would be taken from the wild. Some fishing by native peoples or the residents of seaside villages might be allowed under close supervision, but only if they used traditional, low-tech methods.
Yet another section banned mining operations of any sort, including the removal of manganese nodules, copper, and other minerals from the ocean floor.
Diving in the ocean, snorkeling, scuba diving, and swimming would only be allowed with special permits from the Sea Warriors, and there would be a means of verifying who had permits and who did not. Even beach sands would fall under the jurisdiction of the new declaration, as would sensitive coastal ecosystems around the world, such as mangrove forests, salt marshes, and estuaries. Just walking on beaches would be subject to the permit process, due to past abuses by human beings, including leaving bottles, cans, and other trash behind them. Beachcombing would not be allowed under any circumstances.
Travel by aircraft over the water would be strictly regulated, so that airborne vessels crossed the world ocean over the poles, or by the shortest routes separating continents, and prohibiting the dumping of fuel in the water, except in certain emergency situations. Seaplanes or other aircraft with pontoons would not be permitted to land on the ocean, or even fly over it.
There would be limited exceptions to some of the categories, such as allowing approved companies or individuals to obtain organisms from coral colonies for medical purposes, allowing swimming and diving in emergency situations, and allowing air rescue operations for boats or ships that were endangered in the ocean. Some electrical-energy generating projects might be permitted as well, involving waves, tides, thermal energy, or currents—but only if they could be demonstrated to have no adverse effect on sea life.
In addition, some aquaculture and mariculture operations could be allowed, including the farming of salmon, oysters, mussels, and squid—but under strict controls to avoid contaminating wild stocks.
These and other restrictions against human abuses would involve a massive worldwide bureaucracy, but this was unavoidable, a necessary price to pay in order to get things straightened out, to restore natural environmental balances. It would all be announced at the United Nations building in New York City. The various national representatives would then be permitted to make suggestions, but only in a very narrow range, and then the decisions of the Ocean Management Authority would take effect. Every nation, company, and individual would need to comply with the edicts or face severe reprisals—including the institution of long-term bans against even using sailing vessels on the ocean.
From the podium, Alicia said, “Now we will break up into individual study groups to focus on improving the various sections of the document. For one thing, I think we might consider a new category, a system of rewards for individuals, companies, and governments that show the most concern for the ocean. We could develop a scoring system, for example, and list a number of rewards that would be granted. In addition to the prohibitions and punishments, it might be a good idea to provide some incentives. We can’t just hope that scolded people will suddenly become environmentally conscious.”
She saw some people in the audience nodding their heads in agreement with her, but she also heard a murmuring of disagreement in the audience. On the way to one of the study groups, a woman with short gray hair—a maritime lawyer—said, “I don’t recommend rewards, at least not yet. We want to shake up the world, and don’t want to appear soft.”
Alicia nodded. “I’d still like to discuss the idea, and see where it goes.”
They met in study groups for a couple of hours, then took a short break and resumed. Alicia and Kimo moved between the separate sessions to answer questions and make their own comments, and before the groups broke up they put their comments in electronic format, for inclusion in the next draft of the declaration.
Just before concluding the first day of discussions, Kimo and Alicia called everyone together in the auditorium, and went to the podium. He put a tattooed arm around her shoulders and said, “The idea for the Declaration of Ocean Independence is Alicia’s, and I can see this whole approach really taking off, catching fire with all of us who care so much about the ocean.”
The participants clapped. When the applause began to subside, Alicia said, “I’m glad everyone likes the idea, but it still needs a great deal of work, a great deal of fleshing out.”
She was right. This was only the first day. They would work for three more weeks before a document was ready to submit to the world.
***
Chapter 10
The Declaration of Ocean Independence was unlike any document about the seas ever produced. Finally, after weeks of comprehensive meetings with experts, Kimo and his advisers had the first edition of the monumental, historic text completed—and he was about to present it to the nations of the world, with a demand for their compliance. The detailed declaration would be distributed in hard-bound copies, and would also be available in electronic versions. Fuji Namoto had personally supervised the delivery of these items to the United Nations building in New York City, accompanied by her own hand-picked guards. She should be waiting for him there now.
Taking around half of the hybrid Sea Warriors with him—as well as many associate members—Kimo led a large fleet of jetfish pods across the Pacific Ocean from Hawaii to Central America, then through the Panama Canal, and north in the Atlantic Ocean to New York City. Inside the lead pod, Kimo thought back on the detailed meetings, the long hours, the hard work. It had been exhausting, but exhilarating, a truly pioneering effort for the fledgling organization.
Gwyneth rode in a water-filled tank now, forward in the passenger compartment of this pod, and there were similar tanks in other pods to hold any other Sea Warriors such as Pauline who needed to remain in contact with seawater at all times. Some of the long, sleek pods were filled with nothing but such passengers, in tank after tank—some of them sharing larger tanks.
In Lower Bay, just outside the harbor of the metropolis, most of the pods opened up as the individual jetfish parted, allowing seawater to enter the conglomerated interiors, and enabling the Sea Warriors to swim out into the water on their own. Some of the other pods remained intact, because they carried associate members, and other supporters of the organization, who had not undergone the transformation to receive gills and other physical features. The incredibly supportive newsman Jimmy Waimea was among those people, along with a number of university professors, oceanographers, maritime lawyers, and environmental activists. All had made major contributions to the new Declaration of Ocean Independence….
“My special friends are waiting for us,” Gwyneth said as she, Kimo, Alicia, and Dirk swam ahead of the others on the surface. They passed under the Varrazano Narrows Bridge, continuing into the large harbor. A blanket of gray sky lay over the city.
Though Kimo could not see what she was talking about yet, he did not dispute her assertion, because she always knew when her whale friends were nearby. Presently, Kimo saw their hulking shapes coming from the depths and the sides, joining the swimming Sea Warriors and spouting water from blow holes. He thought he noticed a joyous energy in the movements of the whales as they swam with the human hybrids and the remaining jetfish pods, as if the large marine animals knew that a great deal of progress had already been made in restoring their ocean realm to what it should be, and that more successes lay ahead.
Gwyneth had determined, based upon her powerful connectivity with the ocean, that whales of all species had been the leaders in the massive worldwide cleanup operation, a herculean effort that regurgitated all manner of wrecks and garbage from the ocean floor and tossed it back on the land. In some cases, such as the Puget Sound in the west and Chesapeake Bay in th
e east, floating plastics and other garbage had been dumped into the huge bays, and then the whales had positioned schools of dolphins or porpoises to keep it all from floating back out to sea, thus forcing humans to clean up their own disgusting messes and process the junk on land.
“Look at the shore there,” Kimo said, as he climbed atop a massive blue whale with Gwyneth and his other core members. “And there.” He pointed left and right, to the shores of Staten Island and Brooklyn. Human cleanup crews were removing huge piles of garbage from the beaches and roadways where it had all been regurgitated from the sea, using litter crews, heavy equipment, and dump trucks.
“They don’t seem to like looking at their own garbage,” Alicia said. “What made people think the creatures of the sea wanted to live with it?”
“For land-dwellers, it was out of sight, out of mind,” Alicia said, “but those days are gone.”
“Gone forever,” Gwyneth said, in her unusual, throaty voice. Kimo noticed that it had a new garbling effect in the open air, as if she were speaking underwater. Though in her lumpy gray appearance she may have done all of the changing she was going to do, perhaps she was continuing to metamorphose in other ways. Her original British accent, remnants of which she had retained for a time, seemed gone now.
All of the swimming Sea Warriors climbed atop whales and formed a procession on the surface of the water, with Kimo and his entourage of leaders onboard the lead whale and others behind him, with the remaining jetfish pods bringing up the rear.
A chill of pleasure and anticipation ran down Kimo’s back as the flotilla entered the heart of New York harbor, passing Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. Ahead, two city fireboats were off Battery Park, shooting chandeliers of water from their hoses. High-speed police boats appeared on either side of the procession, manned by armed officers and men with machine guns, but Kimo was not afraid. Police and news helicopters flew overhead.
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