Editor's note: Over the next three weeks, 老澳门六合彩开奖记录资料 Climate Action Network (CAN) member Ana Santos provides Chief readers with her observations during an expedition to study the impacts of the Exxon Valdez oil spill on the Prince William Sound, 21 years after its devastation.
Not even one week into the survey, both on land and on the water, all my waking hours are already dominated by one thing and one thing only - the Exxon Valdez oil spill.
While we wait for periods of bad weather to pass, I rush around notebook in hand, taking any opportunity to talk to the locals.
Although everybody seems to agree on the undeniable impact that the Exxon Valdez oil spill has had on wildlife and the environment, I am pleasantly surprised to find how people at all levels are trying hard and honestly to accept at least part of the blame, a lot of it in many cases.
Mr. Rogers, a fisherman at the time of the spill who has since turned his fishing boats into research vessels, is quick to point out to me that by the time of the spill, all fisheries in Alaska were declining at an alarming rate: "we were already well on the way to fishing Alaskan waters dry; the spill simply accelerated the situation."
Ed Barrett, Mayor of Whittier, even finds the whole thing "a little ironic, as we have been throwing many harmful substances besides oil into the water and they don't usually get a mention."
He tells me how for many years before the spill, in fact, until a mere 10 years ago, there was an outstanding lack of regulation regarding chemicals, paint, and other residues from boats going into the water.
We are talking about a very active coastline with very large, active fishing fleets - these things were going into the water in huge amounts, affecting the wildlife and the environment along the shoreline.
Mayor Ed Barrett wonders if the decline of the salmon runs, for instance, is not at least partly a result of this reckless behaviour from our part.
Yet another consideration which undoubtedly comes into play is climate change. Glaciers are melting fast. This phenomenon is clearly visible all around Prince William Sound, but in Whittier, it has also become audible over the years and, as I write, I catch myself turning my head to the window only to find that the sky doesn't call for what I thought was thunder; instead, it was another big chunk of ice breaking free from Billing Glacier.
US Fish and Wildlife Officials are "happy" to share concerns as to how challenging their task is in this respect - how can they be absolutely sure that their findings relate solely to oil spill impacts as opposed to being climate change effects?
Needless to say, in search of clarity, they dedicate a lot of their time, effort, and resources to the comparison of oiled and not oiled areas.
Either way, from my own perspective, aren't we all deservedly guilty? Aren't our enormous energy demands at the root of the climate change crisis? Aren't these same demands also acting as a green card for powerful corporations and complaisant governments to do whatever it takes to bring this energy to us?
While there may be some or a lot of truth in all this, it is precisely this "do whatever it takes" that makes me and the people here rather uncomfortable about Exxon's handling of the whole situation.
The Trans Alaska pipeline crosses the state of Alaska from Prudhoe Bay in the north to Alyeska's Marine Terminal in Valdez, on the northeastern shores of Prince William Sound.
Mr. Gangola, an ex-employee at the pipeline facilities tells me with a frown that nobody was ready to deal with an incident of such magnitude, and this applies equally to Exxon, the Terminal, and the Coast Guard. Safety standards were overlooked as a matter of fact.
Apparently, when the facility first opened, inspections were carried out on every tanker. Then, funding for this type of work dried up; inspections of vessels ceased and maintenance at the Terminal went down the drains.
To make matters worse, oil response equipment was totally inadequate.
When the spill happened, there was a big effort from Exxon's part to show diligence and to make clean-up efforts obvious to the eye, but it was mostly a facade - pre-spill, there had been no safety mechanisms in place; post-spill, they had no idea how to deal with the mess, they had no plan, and there were no concerted efforts to get the area clean.
Mr. Gangola doubts "the situation is any different today."
Mr. Gangola's words come back to me as our boat surveys Outside Bay in Naked Island, home to the Valdez-registered Mineral Creek, a giant oil spill response barge permanently anchored here, standing guard, ready to be towed into action at a moment's notice in the event of another disaster.
However, when trust, a major component of the social capital, has been broken to the extent these people know, who can blame them for spreading the feeling that these somewhat recent safety features may be no more than yet another gimmick?
As for me, standing on the deck of the Sea Sparrow all day long, muscles ache from the strain of trying to maintain the necessary balance, eyes and head hurt from the glare, constantly staring at the water and the sky, scouring the space for any sign of life.
It makes me wonder what it must have been like to scour this same space for any sign of death instead, as thousands of people did when the Exxon Valdez oil spill happened, like Lynn Thorne, a life-time fisherwoman from Cordova who spent months on the thick oily water recovering the lifeless bodies of sea-otters and marine birds.
In comparison, my aches and pains must surely pale into the uttermost insignificance, plain and simple.
