Paddling with Porpoise: Documenting Trash Around the Baja Peninsula
This article is written by 5 Gyres Ambassador Sean Jansen. Sean is halfway through a solo journey paddling the length of the Baja Peninsula to raise awareness for ocean conservation and plastic pollution, an adventure he’s dubbed “Paddling with Porpoise”. In this excerpt, Sean shares his experience and observations related to trash and plastic pollution he’s seeing on the coastline.
I set out from the upper gulf of the Sea of Cortez with the goal of standup paddling the length of the Baja peninsula. I’ve wanted to do it for years. To paddle the clear and beautiful waters that Jacques Cousteau coined, “the aquarium of the world.” I wanted to camp on some of the most beautiful beaches the world has ever seen. And wanted to fly fish some of the most abundant and healthy populations of game fish anywhere on the planet. Yet there were problems everywhere I went.
The initial and driving force behind the project was to paddle the peninsula all with hopes of raising awareness for the critically endangered Vaquita porpoise. It only lives in the upper gulf of the Sea of Cortez and yet, there are only 10 individuals left in the wild. So with that being the driving force and always in the back of my mind, my skill set was to paddle and write all I could about the porpoise and the problems it faces. The most significant, being bycatch from the illegal fishery of the totoaba fish for their swim bladders being sold on the Chinese black market.
Beyond that however, my trip is one of mixed emotions. I am paddling and camping through areas and beaches so pristine and beautiful that there are screen saver moments everywhere I look, with white sand beaches and crystal clear waters teeming with life, from tiny fish to dolphins and whales and sea turtles. There is drive everywhere to keep going and keep exploring, constantly curious about what’s down the coast. But a dilemma started the moment I set out on the trip. Our trash is everywhere.
I have paddled through extremely developed areas as well as areas so remote that I didn’t see a human for well over a week. I camped on the rockiest of shores with sheer cliffs as bedfellows, as well as the most gorgeous beaches with sand that melts between your toes with each step. Areas that seemed like wildlife could flourish without a fellow hunter or angler in sight while also areas that may have never seen a footprint.
Sadly, no matter where I went, our trash — plastic in particular — was on every mile of coastline.
Everything from the obvious plastic water bottles and sport drinks, to car tires, milk crates, oil cans, soccer balls, and even refrigerators. Boat shrapnel littered the coast as well, and that didn’t surprise me at all. In the 465 miles I have paddled so far, I have tried to average 20 miles a day while making my way down the coast. But due to the severe winds that pick up from the sea, boat wrecks are common. It wasn’t uncommon for me to be dealing with 4-5 foot waves and 20 knots of wind every other day.
But regardless of the conditions, the reality of the situation, much like everywhere else on the planet, is that our trash was on each and every beach I went to. Often times, I wanted to shoot a photo of the sunset or of me paddling down the coast, and would have to angle my camera in a way to avoid a piece of plastic. I wanted to clean up every piece I could. I wanted to carry bags and bring them to the nearest dump station. Sadly, if I did, I would sink my trip both from the weight of the amount of garbage as well as never be able to finish my paddle down the coast with how much there was to clean up.
Another thing I noticed about it was the endemic nature of the trash — or trash that seemed to come from the country of origin. The major ocean gyres of the planet spin our currents around the world and shape the weather we have every day, and those currents often carry trash around the world that land on the most remote of shores. But unlike the major oceans, the Sea of Cortez and its trash appear to be primarily Mexico-related, so far. And if that is the case, that is great news!
Unlike the major “garbage patches” on our planet, the trash in Mexico can be managed by the country itself. Everything I witnessed on the beaches had Spanish labeling, and therefore, with some simple practices by the locals and traveling tourists like myself, these pristine beaches of Baja Mexico’s Sea of Cortez can remain just that — pristine. And the locals are hardly to blame for this problem. I witnessed firsthand many of the local fisherman heading out on their pangas and dropping their nets. Their floats for the nets are often discarded Coca-Cola bottles, oil cans, and water bottles. There seemed to be no need for buying a buoy or another new product when they could reuse their trash for their job. And it was inspiring to see!
There is, of course, a problem with fishing nets that have been discarded or lost at sea, called ghost nets. Fish and other sea creatures, the Vaquita included, can get caught and strangle to death. But the plastic pollution problem I witnessed for 36 days paddling down the Baja Peninsula actually gives me hope that it can be solved, and solved relatively quickly. But until then, I will keep documenting, keep paddling, and keep writing about the trials and tribulations of the Vaquita through my venturing down the coast.
The adventures and mishaps will continue, and the wind and waves will keep battering me until I finish. But no one ever said that the best things in life come easy. I am going to keep digging to see what else this incredible peninsula has in store and hope that we can find solutions to reduce the trash I’m witnessing.
The trip so far has been everything I thought it would be and everything I didn’t want it to be wrapped up in a burrito no local Mexican vendor could replicate. It came with spicy, flavorful, bland, and scary. And despite all that, it still makes me want to come back for more.
I have capsized with all my gear, dealt with drug runners, been woken by a 6.2 magnitude earthquake, had dengue fever, and had a coyote steal my shoe. But I also got to witness wildlife in great abundance. Heard the sea lap up along the shore, listened to the sea birds call to one another, the blowholes of dolphins, and the wind whip through the landscape. I watched fin whales migrate, sea turtles swim below my board, and witnessed the rugged beauty of Baja grab hold of me and not let go.
I set out last October and paddled roughly halfway down the peninsula. I am returning this October to continue the drumbeat of solo paddling down Baja. It’s been 36 days and 465 miles with many more to go and many other wonderful areas I can’t wait to explore. The trash will be there and so too, will be the beauty. But I am going to keep paddling because both the Vaquita porpoise and the awareness around the trash problem of the Sea of Cortez needs a voice, and I am going to write and publish all I can to make sure it’s known that the problems for both have an easy solution.
