Pete Peterson Columns
Sunday, October 18, 2009
We're all connected to our rivers and oceans

I love living in paradise, so I rarely wander north of Key Largo. This is especially true during the tropical storm season. However, this year I ended up in Atlanta at the very peak of hurricane season. Instead of battling tropical winds, I found myself immersed in another type of natural weather calamity -- a deadly flood!

Luckily, I was able to navigate around the deluge that ended up claiming the lives of 10 people.

Needless to say, I was more than ready to get back to the Keys. En route to Key West I was scheduled for a brief lay-over at the Ft. Myers airport. However, due to a delay in refueling, we ended waiting quite awhile at the Cape Air flight gate.

I picked up a local newspaper to keep myself occupied and, as I flipped through the pages, I was amazed to find an article on a recent algae bloom that had washed up on their beaches (I'm sure their Chamber of Commerce was very grateful that the story, "Many flock to beaches despite dead fish, brown water," didn't make the front page.) The article nonchalantly described how thousands of small bait fish had recently died and were now floating around in the brown colored surf, as well as dispersed on the local beaches slowly rotting in the sun. I was astounded at the cavalier response of residents and tourists to this environmental insult. Even the Florida Fish and Wildlife Institute seemed somewhat immune, as they classified the water discoloration as a "non-toxic" bloom of Guinardia Flacciad algae.. It occurred to me that the fish rotting on the beaches probably didn't consider this incident to be a "non-toxic" event, especially as they slowly died of hypoxia.

Remarkably, everyone seemed to be willing to write off this incident as just another brief environmental situation that would dissipate and wash out to sea. Even the local officials tried to put a positive spin on the event by saying they were pleased that the water quality was quickly showing signs of improving. I was dumbfounded at the attitude of the community and visitors alike concerning this environmental insult.

This story made me recall the first (and last) time I visited Sanibel Island. My brief "vacation" unfortunately coincided with a significant Red Tide. The caustic symptoms of the toxic algae bloom were so intense that it was akin to being sprayed with pepper spray. What I had planned as a beautiful morning walk on the beach quickly turned into disgust, as I was forced to dodge small and large fish, bloated and rotting on the beach. My eyes were burned, and my lungs felt as if they were on fire, as I inhaled the acrid mist given off by the Red Tide. I wondered why anyone would tolerate such an occurrence, especially if it is preventable.

Thankfully, our small plane was finally refueled, and we took-off heading to Key West. As we flew along the beach you could easily see the outline of the dark brown "non-toxic" water mentioned in the article, extending along the shallow sandy shoreline. The foreboding brown water could be clearly seen flowing out into Florida Bay as the ebb-tide rushed out of the estuaries and channels.

Unfortunately, our beautiful islands (especially the Upper Keys) are not very far downstream from the devastating blooms that occur in Southwest Florida and the Everglades waters. The fact is that we have had many close calls and even a few ecological disasters, due to these toxic and "non-toxic" tides. While many of these environmental insults are merely written off as naturally occurring events due to excess water flowing out of the Everglades and influences related to Gulf of Mexico loop currents, I suspect that many of these incidents are directly related to excess nutrients making their way into the rivers and bays and then dumping into the ocean where it can ultimately result in large devastating algae blooms.

When it comes to our rivers and oceans, we are all connected. Recalling my trip to Atlanta, it occurred to me that the millions of gallons of water that flooded the city and surrounding area would eventually work its way downstream and finally dump into the Gulf of Mexico. Clearly, no matter where we live, we are all in this together. I sincerely hope that fishermen everywhere will take the lead and search for solutions to minimize the occurrence of these toxic and "non-toxic" tragedies.

Fall Florida Keys Bonefish Population Census

Imagine if a large toxic red tide were to engulf the Everglades and Florida Keys. The loss of marine invertebrates and fish could absolutely devastate our fisheries. One of the fish that could be severely affected would be bonefish.

In the Keys, bonefishing is multi-million dollar industry. Each fish is calculated to be worth over $3,000 in revenue. The loss of these magnificent fish would be both an ecological and financial disaster.

So what can you do to help? Volunteer to be a part of the 7th Annual Bonefish Population Census. All you have to do is spend the day fishing and document the number of bonefish you encounter. The annual event is scheduled to be held on Thursday. Many of the Keys' local fishermen and guides will take to the waters to help scientists at the University of Miami monitor these great game fish.

If you would like to assist in this worthwhile project, contact Dr. Jerry Ault at jault@rsmas.miami.edu, or call 305-421-4884. You can obtain the necessary census forms by contacting the www.bonefishresearch.com site.

The research area runs from Biscayne Bay all the way down to the Marquesas Keys. This large area is divided into 19 zones. All you have to do is record the location and distance poled and the number of bonefish you observed. This information is vital as it provides a year-to-year assessment of the overall health of our bonefish population.

I hope to see you out there.

Capt. Pete Peterson welcomes comments and suggestions sent to petersonventures@aol.com.

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