Container Ships Among Us.

While the sight of container ships moored on the Indian Ocean somewhere near the Dar es Salaam coast line is an everyday occurrence for us, rare is the case that we get to see one of these container ships actually moving on the high seas. They are usually waiting in queue to enter Dar es Salaam's rather inefficient port system, often times for weeks, even months on end.

For anyone who has not seen one of these container ships up close and personal, I can attest - they are massive with a capital M.

We used to sail almost every weekend here in Dar es Salaam, which unfortunately seems to have been a short lived thrill in our lives here, but the more enduring thrill for me was sailing between and among these container ships moored on the Indian Ocean outside of Dar es Salaam. From a yacht (aka "tiny sail boat") below assessing the sheer size of these ships proved to be a contortionist act. Incidentally, I remember the first time I visited NYC with an ex-boyfriend and his jaw was agape and his necked craned for the duration of our visit, as he was completely awestruck by the size and height of the city. In much the same way, Andrei had to calm me down on several sailing trips.

One time, we witnessed a guy catch a ride to one of these ships on a ferry that provides transport to a nearby island. The ferry is not small by any means, and holds the capacity to carry upwards of a 100 or so people. Our ferry started to get precariously close to this container ship moored in the Dar es Salaam Bay. Suddenly a rope ladder unfurls from the enormous container ship, it must have seriously been 75 feet in length with wooden "stairs" to aid in the ascent to the container ship. A man standing at the bow of the ferry takes flight and lands squarely on the rope ladder, which then begins to swing in 60 degree arcs from the pendulum-like weight of his body. I watched in awe as he scaled the 8 story container ship. It was obvious he had some practice in doing so, although I have no doubt I bit all of my nails off in the mean time.

Interestingly, on our once upon a time regular sailing trips, we started to see "scare-a-pirates" perched on the bows of these container ships, in what appeared to be a feeble attempt to outwit Somali pirates with an ever-expanding reach and choke hold on the region. Literally, there were stuffed human like "bodies" tied to the bow of the ship. You can imagine the Somali conversation that takes place upon notice of one of these creatures. Should we? No way man, look at that lifeless watchman, it is clear these guys are prepared to defend themselves. Right, let's get outta here, QUICK! Um, right?

De Colores.

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Photo Credit: Andrei Sinioukov

Piracy on the High Seas.

We see it, hear about it, and feel it in our daily lives. The reach of the Somali pirates is hitting closer and closer to home, as they grow more and more powerful.

Recently, a BBC international news headline read: Greek oil supertanker Irene hijacked off Oman. Frankly, you do not need too wild of an imagination to guess that it is the Somali pirates behind this ship seizure. Carrying 266,000 tons of crude oil with an estimated value of $200 million, it is believed this is the largest vessels ever seized by Somalis.

Today, four Americans sailing on a yacht off the coast of Oman were taken hostage by Somali pirates. While pirates usually attack cargo ships, in more recent years it has become increasingly common that they now seize yachts as well. The yacht's owners had been sailing around the world since 2002, apparently on a Bible hand out mission.

Overstretched international anti-piracy forces operating in the Indian Ocean give priority to protecting cargo ships over private yachts. We have an acquaintance here who runs an anti-pirate private security firm. Basically, if you have something you want to transport, he hires mercenary types to board your boat and help keep you safe from the pirates. Right now - business is booming. When I pointed out his rather perverse implications behind this business model, he demurely agreed.

But the story hitting closest to home began four months ago now and is still unfolding. Two people whom we know from the Dar es Salaam were kidnapped off of Mtwara in South Tanzania. They were sailing home to South Africa to spend the holidays with their families; they had volunteered to work as crew on someone else's yacht. The stories about the circumstances under which their yacht was seized are murky, but either way, the result is tragic. Two South Africans from very humble backgrounds are now being held for ransom by Somali pirates. The initial ransom price was set at $10,000,000, an astronomical sum by all accounts. Apparently, their families are bargaining for their release, while at the same time begging for contact to make sure that the person they are dealing with can assure that their loved ones are safe, hell, even alive for that matter.

We recently learned that negotiation proceedings were beginning to reach a formative end, and to help ensure that these negotiations were brought to a positive end we were asked to contribute a rather modest amount, approximately $10US to support the fund being raised to ensure their release. It was assured that all donations would remain anonymous, it certainly doesn't bode well for assuring future safety when pirates know who is willing to fork over cash for someone's release. We unflinchingly were willing to contribute to this fund, in fact we made an extra donation on behalf of our friend who met this couple and has been actively following the story of their release stateside. But the reactions within the community were mixed, and I can see both sides.


Somalia has had no functioning central government since 1991, which allows piracy to flourish off its coast. Somali pirates have made millions of dollars in recent years by capturing cargo vessels in the shipping lanes around the Horn of Africa and holding the ships and crew for ransom. A ransom payment perpetuates and further fuels this practice. This is probably the biggest and most compelling reason to not give money, and it also just so happens that this really goes against the grain of my belief in the importance of "development." I suspect most Somalis themselves would share this opinion.

But seriously, how can we NOT give?! If I were in their position I would certainly want to be rest assured that everyone who was able, was doing everything they could to help secure my release. Moreover, while I don't want me money going to fund piracy on the high seas, where is my small little protest in not funding them going to get me? This is a pretty well established system, with extremely sophisticated leadership and money management, I alone do not have the power to change that.

So I am curious to hear your thoughts. To give or not to give, that is the question.

A Hundred Year Event.

It was a big one alright, some say it only happens every 100 years. Perhaps that is just an expression, or perhaps those folks are just alarmist by nature. But either way, there is no denying the severity and magnitude of the recent storm that passed through Dar.

I spent the better part of this week seeking refuge anywhere with electricity, as ours had been out for days on end without any indication of when we could expect it back. While mooching power for my computer and phone at our new favorite hangout, the atmosphere suddenly grew ominous. The sky darkened, the wind picked up, and huge rain drops began to fall with a deafening clatter on the rooftop. And eventually the power went out. Now even my go to electricity refuge had failed me. With approximately 2.5 hours of power left on my lap top, I decided to wait out the storm, in fact, it was kind of nice in an oddly romantic sort of way. Neighboring chatter about "adopting" babies out of rural Tanzanian villages (read: kidnapping them without proper paperwork) eventually prompted me to make a break for it. As I drove home the leading thought on my mind was where and how I would continue work without a reliable power source.

I returned home and it appeared as though our house had been looted by a band of pirates. Branches were down everywhere. Huge trees had fallen. Our gate lighting was knocked down and there was broken glass everywhere. Our guard/gardener greeted me at the door, obviously very energized by this rare storm, I, in turn, joked saying, "this will be a big job for you to clean up." He grinned and hopped to it, despite my rather flippant statement of the obvious.

Frankly, I did not give the storm a second thought, until I joined some friends for dinner last night and our conversation turned to the storm. Apparently, one of the largest boats at the yacht club became unmoored during the storm and crashed into three other boats, causing damage of untold proportions, the repair costs alone would surely surpass our combined income last year.

Then someone mentioned the fishermen. The very fishermen I recently blogged about. It is beyond doubt that many of them died in this storm, between huge swells overturning their tiny boats (if you can even call them that) and winds and rip tides pushing them far beyond paddling reach of Dar's shorelines. The storm came out of the blue, its not like any forward thinking fisherman could have known this or even planned their work day around it. So here again, a reality check that these guys literally risk life and limb braving the Indian Ocean waters to fetch about $3/day. And here I was worried about a power connection for my MacBook lap top.

United Fish Flag.

Please spread the word.

As promised, I am writing a follow up post about the sale of sea shells not so close to the Indian Ocean sea shore in downtown Ukraine. 

I will begin with a loosely related passage from an exceptional book that I just finished reading Emergency Sex:

In Mombasa, Heidi meets James, a Masai “tribesman”. Following a romantic walk down the beach, she happens to notice that she is one of several solitary white women, all fairly young and attractive, with their own Masai tribesman. She casually remarks to herself, “Great, now I have turned into one of those rich white chicks who pick up poor, attractive men in third world countries for sex.”

In what appears to be a typical romantic ploy, James leads her onto a dhow, and following a short ride, they land directly onto a reef that she describes as filled with puddles that hold the most magnificent sea creatures – anemones, urchins, and starfish – with splashes of bright, living color everywhere – purple, red, blue, yellow – just lying about in shallow pools of water, waiting for the tide to come in and rescue them.

Tropical paradise at its finest, so it seems. Except that, the "curio trade" threatens to render this image obsolete. Borrowing from the "authority" in this area, I will explain.

The sale of shells and other organisms, mostly to tourists or shell collectors, is known as the curio trade. Shell collecting is a hobby with a long history. By the 17th century, seamen on trading ships were bringing home shells as curio. In the last 50 years, with increasing possibilities to travel, the purchase of shells has become a common practice for visitors returning home with samples of the bizarre and attractive sea life from remote corners of the world.

Throughout the Western Indian Ocean (and apparently Ukraine), road-side shell stands and shops are common, retailing mostly large, attractive and colorful gastropod shells, chunks of hard coral, turtle products or jewelry made from these. The business may not appear to be very large but the sheer volume of shells and other marine curios (that is to say, interesting and bizarre dead sea creatures) sold is staggering. The collection and export of shells and other marine curios is mostly unregulated, but indications are that hundreds of tones of cleaned shells have been exported over the last thirty years.

This practice holds damaging environmental consequences. The damage to shallow coastal habitats caused by turning over boulders or prizing coral off the seabed may have considerable local impact on the productivity of the area. The trade in dead coral and turtle products is banned in many countries outside of the Western Indian Ocean and tourists carrying these items back home run the risk of being fined and having the articles confiscated. The removal of these animals not only reduces the productivity of shallow coastal habitats but also the attractiveness of the habitats to tourists.

However, the book further warns, even collecting empty shells can be damaging for two reasons. Firstly, hermit crabs need gastropod shells. Without empty shells, hermit crabs may totally disappear from an area. The second reason is that empty shells serve as a hard substrate and are a vital component of the overall growth of the coral reef. Many organisms (corals and sponges) settle onto such hard surfaces. Collecting is therefore NOT RECOMMENDED, unless this activity is pursued to establish a properly identified and cataloged collection of shells, which will be available to specialists, and thus add to the knowledge of mollusks in an area.

While measures have been taken to restrict the collection of shells, for example by enforcing regulations banning collection inside marine protected areas (as a side note: Kenya's effective use of regulations stands in contrast to Tanzania; it is said that weak enforcement inside marine protected areas combined with loose enforcement of bans against dynamite fishing in Tanzania, make the reef a startling and defacto aqua "border" between the two countries), the general recommendation is to limit the sale and import of shells. Until there is a system of management which ensures the collection of species sold is not depleting the wild stocks or interfering with the balance of life in the shallow marine habitats of the region, these activities should not be encouraged.

DO NOT BUY CORALS OR OTHER CURIOS. Please spread the word.

The Far Reaches of the Indian Ocean.

In celebration of our "paper" anniversary, I gifted Andrei The Field Guide to the Sea Shores of East Africa. A major hit, this book has become a much referenced guide in our household. Described as ideal for beachcombers, snorkellers, and divers with an interest in natural history, this book usually accompanies us on all of our weekend adventures in Dar es Salaam. Little did we know how useful this reference guide could have proven on our trip to Kiev, Ukraine.

We were out exploring and stumble across this table of ocean treasures in the middle of downtown Kiev:

Most of these are species that we see on a daily basis in Dar. However, it is not usually the case that I am beachcombing in a full length fur coat.

Despite the smile on my face, this moment was quite disappointing. I will reserve my thoughts on how damaging the international shell trade is for a later post. In the mean time, however, I will take the opportunity to point out for Dar-based folks that all proceeds from the sale of this field guide go to a charitable trust that will help develop marine science (and conservation) in this geographic area. That alone makes the book worth buying.

Hello Sunshine.