Seaweed, also known as macroalgae, is not your ordinary marine plant. With over 10,000 species in oceans worldwide, seaweed comes in various shapes, sizes, and colours, from the delicate leaves of sea lettuce to the robust fronds of brown kelp.

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This article was written by Rhianna Rees, Scottish Seaweed Industry Association, via SeaVoice.

Scotland’s expansive coastline has a personality like no other. The white sandy beaches of Tiree, Lewis, and Harris rival that of any Mediterranean beach (unfortunately without the warm water). In parts of Caithness, the sand can occasionally and temporarily turn a purple colour, likely due to the presence of iron oxide and the erosion of Scotland’s old red sandstone.

Throughout the centuries, seaweed has been the most unexpected of protagonists, being used in ways you wouldn’t quite expect.

It has been used as food, fertiliser, feedstock, and a myriad of other things (including gynaecology!). Seaweed isn’t picky about where it grows – clinging to rocks, lounging in pools, and weaving vast underwater forests teeming with life. When stormy tempests rage, beach-cast seaweed generously offers itself as grazing ground. Brimming with minerals like calcium, magnesium, iron, and iodine, seaweed packs a nutritional punch essential for human health. It’s the unsung hero of our oceans, long overlooked and underestimated. But, as tides turn, that might just be changing.

I stumbled upon the world of seaweed by chance. When I started my Master’s program in Uppsala, I lacked a clear focus. I sought something that embodied hope, something sustainable, renewable, positive, and deeply rooted in history. At COP23, I fortuitously met a Swedish researcher, Fredrik Gröndahl, who told me, “If you want to focus your work on something sustainable, there is nothing more sustainable than seaweed… seaweed and insects.” I wasn’t too keen on insects, so seaweed it was.

This led me to an internship at KTH with Gröndahl, where I wrote my master’s thesis on the history of seaweed, aptly titled: “Seaweed is Sexy: The consumption and utilisation of seaweed throughout British history and the marketing that surrounds it.”

After completing my Master’s, I returned to the UK, determined to find a role in the burgeoning seaweed industry. However, graduate roles were hard to come by, especially with the onset of the COVID crisis. Desperate for employment, I applied for any job that matched my skills – in finance, business management, carbon accounting, you name it. Often, it’s a person or a defining moment that helps you find your path again. For me, it was a job interview with a housing company in central London.

I turned up at the interview full of hope and expectation that I might finally get out of the graduate job application loop that I’d found myself stuck in for so many months. It started out well. The interviewer asked me about my degree, my experience, and my travel, but the conversation kept coming back to seaweed. So much so in fact that she interrupted me to say “I’ve never seen anyone light up the way you do when you talk about seaweed”. I laughed and said it was something I was passionate about. “It’s wonderful to be passionate about something”, she said and went on to ask me what I wanted to do with my life, what I really wanted to do with it. I replied “Well, I want to change the world, but doesn’t everyone?”. “No,” she said, “not everyone wants to change the world”.

There was a waver in the interview at that moment, “I think you would be good for this job. And, if you want to continue with the interview, I’ll take you to the next stage with a positive recommendation. But you wouldn’t be passionate about it, and this is a hard job. Be honest with yourself, do you really want this?”. Despite finally getting an interview with what looked like a real job prospect after so many months, I resigned myself. She was right. “I don’t want this” I agreed, and with that, the process stopped. From that point on, we began discussing career paths, companies, seaweed roles, and courses I could apply to. She gave me some helpful advice and sent me on my way. As I left the interview the final thing she said to me was “I can’t wait to see you change the world”. I wish she knew how pivotal she had been in that moment all those years ago.

I committed to applying only for roles that shared that ethos. Not long after that interview, I managed to secure a job at Mara Seaweed in Edinburgh, a company that sold seaweed as seasoning to help reduce salt intake and improve health. I enjoyed my time at Mara, but it was short-lived. Soon after I was offered a job at the Scottish Association for Marine Science (SAMS) to coordinate the creation of the seaweed academy, the UK’s first seaweed training facility, in Oban, Scotland. This was a dream come true. For two years I worked with SAMS and helped train over 80 people through the seaweed academy, many of whom went on to work in the seaweed sector.

Now, I have a role within the Scottish Seaweed Industry Association (SSIA), helping to grow the sector, bring attention to seaweed as a sustainable resource, and alleviate the challenges associated with its expansion.

It’s also my mission to continue to make seaweed sexy, to shed light on its remarkable history, and to champion its resurgence for a brighter future.

Now, I know what you’re thinking – making seaweed sexy is about as likely as getting excited over a pile of wet rope. But bear with me.

A Sea of Opportunity

Before we dive into what seaweed can do, let’s first look at what seaweed is. Seaweed, also known as macroalgae, is not your ordinary marine plant. With over 10,000 species in oceans worldwide, seaweed comes in various shapes, sizes, and colours, from the delicate leaves of sea lettuce to the robust fronds of brown kelp.

But what’s so good about seaweed? The answer lies in its inherent benefits – both to our health and the environment. Seaweed is a nutritional powerhouse, and a sea sponge, packed with vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants. From sushi rolls to superfood snacks, its culinary versatility knows no bounds. But beyond the dinner plate, seaweed holds a key to a sustainable future.

You might also like: Kelp Forests: Restoring a Lifeline for the Ocean

Unravelling the Mysteries of Seaweed

Despite the recent interest in seaweed, seaweed is, fundamentally, not a sexy thing. We often think of it rotting on our beaches, and in some parts of the UK we pay up to £75,000 a year to have it removed.

While it may not be attractive to the tourism industry, even beach-cast seaweed plays a vital role in our circular ecosystem. Only now, when we are using terms like “biodiversity net gain” (improving biodiversity through operations), “ecosystem services” (maintaining the circularity of nutrients and healthy ecosystems) and “regenerative ocean farming” (regenerating degraded land/ocean areas through farming activities), can we begin to understand the multitude of benefits that seaweed, and an industry based around seaweed, can provide.

Because seaweed absorbs everything in its surroundings, it is able to mitigate some of the most catastrophic human impacts on the marine ecosystem. This includes the absorption of agricultural runoff, which contains harmful nutrients like Nitrogen and Phosphorus that can lead to eutrophication and dead zones in coastal waters. By absorbing these excess nutrients, seaweed not only prevents water pollution but also promotes a healthier and more balanced marine environment.

Furthermore, seaweed goes about its business hoovering up carbon dioxide with all the quiet efficiency of a librarian with a really good book.

In doing so, it keeps the oceans from turning into something that could pickle a fish faster than you could say “climate change.” Not only that, seaweed also has a knack for filtering out heavy metals and other potentially nasty bits. Through these industrious and rather unglamorous efforts, seaweed farming emerges as a thoroughly sensible and sustainable answer to some of the more pressing problems faced by our oceans. 

Rediscovering Seaweed: A Journey Through Time

Seaweed might seem like the latest new and exciting industry, but in truth, its résumé goes back centuries. Long before it became the star of smoothie additives and plastic-free alternatives, seaweed was hard at work as a humble fertiliser. Take the old “lazy bed” farming method, for example. Back in the day, particularly in the rocky hills where farming was a hard graft, ingenious farmers dug channels and lined them with seaweed. Then, they’d plant their crops on top, allowing the plants to feast on the rich nutrients. This wasn’t just some quirky local trick either – it was all the rage in 1700s Scotland and, believe it or not, it’s still in practice today.

Coastal communities in the British Isles have revered seaweed for its myriad uses, from fertilising crops to healing wounds. In the “kelp boom” of the 18th century, the Scottish coastline was teeming with seaweed harvesters, who painstakingly gathered “black wrack” seaweeds and kelp for industrial purposes, including glassmaking and soap production.

In fact, there are many accounts of various species of seaweed being used for traditional medicinal purposes, including iodine extraction, wound dressing, cold compresses, digestion, replenishment after fasting, teething comforters, treatment for rheumatism and arthritis, skin conditions, and records of pieces of the stipe (stem) of kelp being employed to keep wounds open during surgery (and also to keep the cervix open in gynaecology).

Over time, with the advent of synthetic alternatives and the decline of traditional industries, seaweed fell out of favour, relegated to the realms of folklore and ancient wisdom. Fast forward to the 21st century, seaweed is experiencing a renaissance like never before. In the wake of climate change and the quest for sustainability, seaweed emerges as a beacon of hope – a natural solution to our modern-day challenges.

You might also like: Educating Hong Kong Students on Climate Change Through Seaweed Farming: An Interview with The Harbour School

Technological Advancements: Cultivating the Future of Seaweed

What we, as a sector, are striving for is nothing short of a seaweed revolution. Take, for instance, the intrepid folks at Kaly and South West Mull and Iona Development who are leading the charge with sustainable, efficient cultivation methods. They aim to have both a positive environmental impact on the surrounding ocean and maximise their biomass yields.

But cultivation is merely the opening chapter. With the aid of cutting-edge processing technologies, Oceanium and Atlantic Mariculture are looking at valorisation of the biomass, through the utilisation of biorefineries and research into practical end uses. Imagine nutraceutical supplements packed with health-boosting magic, or strawberries that can grow larger than normal. Through a blend of collaboration and investment in research and development, we are unlocking the full potential of seaweed.

Navigating the Blue Economy Ahead

Here, at what feels like the start of a strong blue economy, I find myself brimming with optimism for the future of seaweed and our oceans. From its modest origins to its grand revival in this age of sustainability, seaweed stands as a testament to resilience, adaptability, and boundless potential. It’s as if seaweed itself is cheerfully waving us forward, encouraging us to forge a path towards a more sustainable and resilient future, not just for ourselves, but for generations yet to come.

Featured image: Rhianna Rees.

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This article was originally published by SeaVoice, written by Mélissa Bergeron, and is republished here as part of an editorial partnership with Earth.Org. 

The post Seaweed Is Sexy: The Untapped Treasure appeared first on Earth.Org.

“This isn’t just about saving coral; it’s about breaking barriers, defying the odds and creating a powerful force for change.”

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This article was written by Mélissa Bergeron, slow explorer, and gender equality advocate via SeaVoice. 

As the world witnesses the alarming global decline of coral reefs, a surge of restoration projects has emerged worldwide. While the growing commitment to protecting the ocean’s biodiversity is vital for preserving this precious environment, the increased involvement of individuals underscores a concerning reality — the prospects of establishing a career in the sector are becoming far from equal. As a woman, your path will be strewn with obstacles, particularly if you hail from a minority background in a developing country. The odds of turning your conservation dreams into reality seem almost insurmountable.

Fuelled by a dream to reduce the gender gap in marine science and actively protect our oceans, Rose Huizenga started training local women from across Indonesia to set up their own coral restoration projects. The aim is clear: to build a strong network of female leaders protecting the reefs of Indonesia.

This isn’t just about saving coral; it’s about breaking barriers, defying the odds and creating a powerful force for change.

It All Starts With a Woman Who Found a Home in the Ocean

“The voices of women are frequently not heard.” These words were pronounced in 2019, by United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres, urging action to reach gender equality in marine science. Although there is still little data on this issue, research has proven that women are underrepresented in the marine conservation industry [1]. The issue is not that women are unwilling to pursue a career in ocean conservation. In fact, they occupy more seats at universities than men [2]. However, their prospects for decision-making roles are notably limited. The higher you go in the hierarchy, the fewer the females: the leaky pipeline keeps them at the doorstep [3].

Rose had never studied marine science, but her heart had always beaten faster close to the ocean. In 2012, she left the Netherlands with only a backpack and a head full of dreams to explore Indonesia, Nepal, and Sri Lanka and figure out what a life full of purpose would look like. She didn’t explore Kathmandu nor climb Lion Rock because once her feet touched Gili Air, Indonesia, she never left the island. She began work as a scuba instructor and was saddened by the declining diversity of marine life on the archipelago. This led her to establish “Gili Shark Conservation” in 2015 with two friends. Within a few years, hundreds of enthusiasts were trained to conduct surveys underwater, from shark and turtle identification to coral restoration projects. Due to their efforts, people from all over the world were gathering precious data every day to protect the marine protected area, Gili Matra Marine Reserve.

In 2020, a global pandemic forced the team to put the projects on pause. As a beacon of light in the midst of chaos, Rose was thrilled to discover new life growing in her belly while the pandemic gripped the world. Breastfeeding her daughter kept her awake for long hours, which she used to consider how she and her colleagues might fund their conservation projects without the help of international visitors. A sign came in the form of a message from the United Nations — they were providing grants to coral restoration projects. But with thousands of research teams working all around the world on that issue, they would need to do things differently to draw attention to Gili Air. One night, it clicked: “What about working exclusively with local women?”

Sweeping Away the Barriers

As her excitement translated into words and she shared the project with her husband and close friends, concerns began to surface. Will participants have the physical strength needed to carry and set up equipment? Will their families allow them to travel so far away? Will they embrace their skin growing darker in a society that idealises lighter tones? As barriers were rising one by one, her determination only continued to grow. If she wanted to know the answers to these questions, she had to ask those concerned. So, one day, Rose posted a message on social media asking if anyone wanted to apply for a scholarship in which they would be taught how to set up their own coral restoration project. Although she faced doubt from those around her regarding the interest of local women in getting involved, she received one hundred and fifty applications from women living all over Indonesia ready to dive into coral restoration. Coral Catch was born.

The United Nations didn’t select Coral Catch as a grantee, but the engine was already on. Rose found the funding to start a small pilot, and six months later, four women were starting a nine-week training programme created to give them the skills to set up and monitor a coral restoration site.

Today, twenty women have graduated from the coral restoration programme on Gili Air. Coral Catch’s Superwomen: the Coral Catch trainees are called this for a reason. They are mastering tricky, diverse and invaluable skills. If you hear the engine roaring, it’s because they are welding rebars, building the structures that will host their coral fragments. Setting up a restoration project requires management skills, so they attend workshops to give them the knowledge to plan their projects, find funds, and manage their social media. They show up every day motivated to physically and mentally commit to their work restoring the marine environment, acting as role models for other women in their communities. Their strength, determination and bravery impress the team every day.

Marine conservation only works with the community being actively involved, so the women spend their time on land spreading awareness and sharing their love for the underwater world. Pass by the school and you will see the children smiling, sharing what they have learned about the challenges the ocean is facing. Enter the dive shop and you’ll see local women in the pool learning how to swim. Coral Catch programmes teach that education is a very strong tool for change and the women have heard this loud and clear. After benefiting from the incredible Gili Matra Marine Reserve as a training ground, they are always eager and excited to give back to the local community.

Creating Room to Design a Bright Future

Coral Catch quickly became more than a scholarship programme. Imagine four women from different educations and cultures living together for nine weeks, sharing their room, their dreams, and their fears. For the first time, they are connecting with women to whom they can express similar worries: How to combine career and motherhood? How to take care of your mental health? How to deal with being the first one taking a different path in the family?

Empowering women is providing a space for women to feel safe and heard. Then, let the magic happen and you’ll see a whole universe of new prospects open up.

Rose has made it her mission to train and empower one hundred women to pursue a career in marine conservation in the next five years. Day after day, batch after batch, this dream is coming true. Women from every corner of Indonesia have joined forces to safeguard and revive the nation’s reefs. Initially, she had reservations about whether they would revert to their prior lives after completing the programme. To her delight, every single one of these inspiring Superwomen chose to share their passion for the ocean with the world. Today, they are actively contributing to marine conservation, pursuing careers in the diving industry, or securing scholarships to advance their studies in marine science. Witnessing these ocean advocates come together to preserve the incredible biodiversity of their homeland is the most gratifying reward anyone could ask for.

Expanding the Sisterhood

To grow the project and convince more sponsors to join, she reached out to female marine scientists and diving leaders to join the sisterhood as ambassadors. She was overwhelmed by the outcome. Not only did she receive extremely enthusiastic replies, but these professionals went above and beyond in supporting the Coral Catch initiative. They not only expressed their willingness to endorse the Coral Catch image, but also generously offered to share their knowledge and build the women’s confidence. This has become a pivotal aspect of the programme, as it allows trainees to recognise that experts from around the world support and endorse their mission.

The feeling of being part of a community that shares your values is sometimes all you need to start moving mountains.

The Coral Catch team is now solely run by a team of former Superwomen. Cenna, 24 years old, was one of the first women to benefit from the programme before going back to Java to work on marine research projects. The Coral Catch team were so proud to see her don Coral Catch’s colours again this November, this time as Lead Scientist and Programme Manager for the 2024 Superwomen. For some women, Coral Catch is a catalyst for a complete change in their career path. Wika, 28 years old, worked in marketing and communications in Bali before joining the programme. After 9 weeks on Gili Air as a trainee, she’ll keep her wetsuit but change her hat to join the Coral Catch staff as an intern, helping maintain the coral restoration site in the water and engage the local community on land. With the trust built between the women during the scholarship being so precious, Coral Catch hopes to preserve that safe space even after the programme is finished. Caterina, a marine biology student freshly certified by a PADI Divemaster Scholarship and former Superwoman, is joining the team in January to coordinate the Coral Catch alumni. The circle comes back around, those who benefited from a springboard to pursue a career in marine science are now helping others to dive into the beauty of the underwater world.

There is still much work ahead to restore Indonesia’s reefs. An even more challenging task lies in achieving gender equality across the marine science sector. However, one thing remains clear: we’re on the right path, expanding the horizons for marine science one day at a time. Ultimately, attaining gender equality in the marine conservation industry and addressing environmental challenges share the same finish line — a world where our oceans are a safe space, both for the creatures that dwell there and for the women working towards protecting them.

Featured image: Charlie Fenwick/Underwater Photography.

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This article was originally published by SeaVoice, written by Mélissa Bergeron, and is republished here as part of an editorial partnership with Earth.Org. 

The post Raising the Voices of Indonesian Women to Restore Their Homeland’s Coral Reefs appeared first on Earth.Org.

“Colonialism can take many forms. And as a Latin American who works in a marine conservation NGO based in Costa Rica, I think about this almost every day. My biggest fear is replicating any form of oppression through well-intentioned activities. Because I’m certain that we, ocean advocates, all mean well.”

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This article was written by Katherine Arroyo-Arce, Executive Director at the MarViva Foundation

“In a few decades, the relationship between the environment, resources and conflict may seem almost as obvious as the connection we see today between human rights, democracy and peace.” – Wangari Maathai, 2004

I work in marine conservation; therefore, I work with local communities. Such an essential relationship between ocean governance and coastal populations is sometimes not so obvious. Nor is its linkage with human and democratic rights. At least, this is the case in most of Latin America.

Gabriel García Márquez, a Colombian writer, is the foremost exponent of the literary movement called magical realism. In his books, situations that may seem strange and peculiar are normalised and presented as part of the characters’ daily routines.

Magical realism is not an out-of-context invention. It is a reflection of how the core of Latin American culture has been built based on colonialism and oppression.

Why is the most biodiverse place in the world also the most dangerous region for environmental defenders? Why are communities constantly facing restrictions on access to their natural resources and ecosystems? Why is speaking up extremely dangerous, but at the same time, lives are continuously threatened if we don’t raise awareness? Why is conservation perceived as synonymous with poverty?

Colonialism can take many forms. And as a Latin American who works in a marine conservation NGO based in Costa Rica, I think about this almost every day. My biggest fear is replicating any form of oppression through well-intentioned activities. Because I’m certain that we, ocean advocates, all mean well. We are optimists! We want to be helpful. But to what extent might we be creating an undesired relationship with communities? A relationship in which locals rely more on NGOs than on themselves?

During university, where I majored in environmental law, I developed skills in two areas that have inspired me since childhood: environmental conservation and democratic rights. Law school did not teach me about their relationship, but volunteering in local communities and conservation projects did. Over time, I understood that isolating local people from decision-making about their environment is a huge mistake. Effective conservation depends on the timely involvement of people.

Systematic oppression is a fact. It is a variable to consider when addressing marine-related projects in coastal communities. In this context, through years of working with local leaders, I understood the value of empathy; I gained skills to put my interest into perspective with local concerns; I learned to compromise. To have a meaningful relationship with local stakeholders, I understood I’m not their superhero because the first thing you should do is to put your privilege aside.

In this context, what is the right way for local and international NGOs to approach coastal communities? How can the international community’s desire to “give a voice” to coastal communities be adequately addressed?

During these last five years working for Fundación MarViva, a non-governmental organisation that promotes the conservation and sustainable use of ecosystems and marine resources of the Eastern Tropical Pacific, my colleagues and I have carefully avoided replicating certain types of actions that don’t feel respectful of local stakeholders.

Our local work has focused on the Gulf of Nicoya on the Costa Rican Pacific coast.

El Golfo represents the heart of artisanal fisheries. It includes the village of Nicoya, one of the few Blue Zones (where people live the longest and the healthiest) in the world. Usually, when Costa Ricans think about the conformation of our territory, we recall the Gulf of Nicoya and its peoples’ desire, back in 1824, to become Costa Rican citizens. We celebrate this historic decision, the Annexation of Nicoya to Costa Rica, every July 25th with corn tortillas, horchata, bombas (rhymes), and songs about sabaneros (cowboys), bull riding, and the beaches of Guanacaste.

I also think about Don Enoc, a fishers’ leader from the coastal community of Colorado, and how happy he was when he knew I would move to Edinburgh, Scotland, to pursue a master’s degree in marine systems and policies. I think about Félix, Coordinator of Communities at MarViva who’s from Nicoya, and about the way he and his family have welcomed me every single time I’ve been around with gallina achiotada (the most delicious chicken in the whole world) and mangos. Hospitality is also demonstrated through a fresh croaker ceviche prepared by Don Manrique and Doña Mónica, the owners of Cama-Pez de La Costa, a responsible fish processing and distribution plant in Costa de Pájaros.

Beyond its people, el Golfo is comprised of estuaries, mangroves, islands, and reef systems. These ecosystems support fishing, tourism, shellfish extraction, and salt production. One-third of Costa Rica’s fishery products come from the Gulf of Nicoya. However, the impacts of illegal, unreported, and unregulated fishing are notorious, contributing to social conflicts and discouraging good practices. These factors converge in an area with the country’s highest poverty and unemployment rates, where access to basic human development rights is limited.

The voice of coastal communities belongs to coastal communities, as they improve their livelihoods and environment.

In MarViva, the Gulf of Nicoya is not just Félix’s hometown. Along with improving coastal ecosystems, we intend to enhance lives integrally. To do so, we first work on strengthening policy advocacy skills. Guided by this philosophy, we have supported various initiatives that build a sense of citizenship amongst fishing communities. These include providing strategic support to fisheries associations regarding specific policy decisions taken by the fisheries authority without proper consultation. For instance, empowering leaders to address congresspeople directly has resulted from the implementation of voluntary local governance structures such as La Red del Golfo (The Gulf’s Network) and the Comité de Pesca Responsible (Responsible Fishing Committee). MarViva is not their spokesperson but their enabler.

Oppression and fisheries’ overexploitation are also addressed by encouraging complementary productive activities. In Puntarenas, for instance, MarViva is currently supporting a group of fisherwomen to grow their economic potential and engage in the transformation of fish skin into leather. Called Piel Marina (Marine Skin), they’re powerful, high-value products.

Moving From Sad to Happy Tears

A deep sense of apathy is constantly present in magical realism narratives. But there is also space for optimism. In Latin America and El Golfo, there is always a way to find beauty in challenging times and move from sad to happy tears in a blink. Through my time working here, I believe NGOs are actually meant to learn from local communities and grow resilient together to drive oppression away.

Featured image: MarViva.

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This article was originally published by SeaVoice, written by Katherine Arroyo-Arce, and is republished here as part of an editorial partnership with Earth.Org. 

The post The Role of NGOs in Coastal Communities: A Latin American Perspective appeared first on Earth.Org.

The SeaVoice Annual: Issue 01 is the first-ever SeaVoice book, backed by the United Nations Ocean Decade. The Annual features a curated selection of 20 stories from 16 countries that highlight the voices of ocean advocates, scientists, artists, and community members working and living around the ocean. 

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SeaVoice, an innovative platform endorsed by the Ocean Decade Heritage Network’s Cultural Heritage Framework Programme, an official programme of the United Nations Ocean Decade, and funded by the Lloyd’s Register Foundation, is launching its first-ever book on World Oceans Day. Containing a curated selection of stories from 2023 and 2024, The SeaVoice Annual launched at the Immersed in Change Oceans Conference in San Jose, Costa Rica, and the UNESCO Ocean Literacy World Conference in Venice, Italy. It will be available to download here.

Through thought-provoking articles, captivating stories, and insightful narratives, SeaVoice sheds light on the intersection between the ocean and culture, inspiring collective responsibility for our blue spaces. SeaVoice is a recognised programme of the United Nations Decade of Ocean Science for Sustainable Development (2021-2030) under the Ocean Decade Heritage Network’s Cultural Heritage Framework Programme. With a focus on the key global challenges of the UN Ocean Decade, SeaVoice emphasises the importance of understanding the complex interplay between culture, heritage, and the environment in tackling the pressing issues we face today. 

“Through my research in ocean conservation I became frustrated with the lack of stories being told from the perspectives of the people who work and live by the ocean every day,” says Dr Georgia Holly, SeaVoice founder and editor-in-chief, Cultural Heritage Framework Programme Manager, and Marine Archaeologist and Biologist at the University of Edinburgh, adding, “Scientific stories are important, but only within the greater context of coastal community culture and heritage. Where can we hear about ocean culture, customs, art, and story-telling, as part of research and advocacy? If we, as scientists, really want to incorporate diverse ways of knowing into our research, first we have to make space, and listen.” 

The SeaVoice Annual: Issue 01 begins with a foreword from Dr Sylvia Earle and Dona Bertarelli, renowned ocean explorers and conservationists. It contains select stories from across SeaVoice’s three digital volumes: Osmosis, Community, and Gen Sea. The book’s stories include inspiring initiatives like female-led coral restoration in Indonesia, shark fishers turned conservationists in Baja California Sur, Mexico, and community-led filmmaking in Madagascar. 

“SeaVoice tells stories that explore the collision of culture and climate with our ocean, rivers, and lakes, amplifying voices of the people who work, live, and survive by bodies of water,” says Dr. Sylvia Earle of Mission Blue and Dona Bertarelli of Pew Bertarelli Ocean Legacy. “We invite you to read with an open heart and mind, to learn from those whose voices have too often been silenced or ignored, and to join us in our mission to create a more just, equitable, and sustainable future for our ocean, and therefore for life on Earth, humankind very much included.” 

The SeaVoice Annual: Issue 01 is printed on locally sourced paper and bound between covers made from responsibly-sourced seaweed. With just 500 copies printed, the first run represents limited edition collector’s items, and are available on a first come first served basis. The magazine is free, with readers only paying for postage and packaging, and will be available to order here. 

“We’re honoured to bring this collection of stories to print, working with the Cultural Heritage Framework Programme, the Lloyd’s Register Foundation, and partners such as Pew Bertarelli Ocean Legacy and the UN Ocean Decade,” says Dr. Georgia Holly, University of Edinburgh.

Check out more stories from our NGO Partners.

The post SeaVoice Launches First Book, Uplifting Coastal Voices in UN Endorsed Initiative appeared first on Earth.Org.