Top Stories From Homer, Alaska

Whether a volunteer with the Center for Alaskan Coastal Studies annual CoastWalk beach cleaning and monitoring or a visitor to Alaska’s beaches, if you walk the coast, unfortunately a lot of what you find is trash — marine debris.

Plastic pop bottles. Cigarette lighters. Shotgun shells. Buoys. And rubber duckies.

“They’re kind of a symbol of what washes up on our shores,” said Marilyn Sigman, director of the center, in introducing King.

Sigman noted a January Harper’s Magazine article, “Moby Duck,” by Donovan Hohn, about the voyage of 28,000 plastic toys lost in a container spill that have washed up all over the North Pacific and across the top of the world to the Atlantic Ocean.

King, head of the marine debris program with the Marine Conservation Alliance Foundation, introduced himself as “your garbologist this evening.” He talked about nastier trash, like strapping that strangles sea lions or bits of plastic that choke sea birds.

“It’s not just ugly. It’s a killer,” he said.

Under a grant from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, King has been directing marine debris clean-ups along Alaska’s remote coasts, including Unalaska and the Pribilof Islands.

Nationwide, 60 percent of marine debris comes from recreational activities, but in Alaska, much of it is derelict fishing gear.

The Marine Conservation Alliance is an organization supported largely by the fishing industry that promotes the sustainable use of North Pacific marine resources. The foundation is its nonprofit branch.

King was one of two keynote speakers last Friday at the start of “Catch the Drift: What’s Coming to Your Beach?,” a workshop on coastal stewardship sponsored by the Center for Alaskan Coastal Studies under a grant with NOAA and in cooperation with Cook InletKeeper, the Alaska Maritime National Wildlife Refuge and the World Wildlife Fund. CACS received a NOAA grant to expand its coastal monitoring program. It awarded challenge grants to Alaska coastal organizations to do more marine debris programs.

As an example of the extent of marine debris, King noted some recent cleanup projects:

n Knight Island, Prince William Sound: 2,122 bags collected, 35 tons;

n Saint George Island, 18 truck loads of trash;

n Saint Paul Island, 20 tons of trash in 2.5 miles of coast;

n Unalakleet, 200 gillnets, 15 derelict skiffs.

More than four years of cleanup on Saint Paul Island yielded 157,000 pounds of marine debris that cost $114,000 to haul off the island and dispose of properly, he said.

Not a lot of research has been done on how much marine debris gets washed ashore — or moved around once it lands on a beach. King estimated Saint Paul Island accumulates about 500 pounds of trash per mile a year.

He cited research done on Amchitka Island in the 1970s that showed up to 1,000 pounds of debris per mile a year. In that same project, the researcher spray painted glass floats to see how many moved off the beach; about 60 percent of the floats disappeared.

“The currents in the North Pacific are continuing to stir the pot,” King said.

King praised the work of organizations like the Center for Alaskan Coastal Studies with its annual CoastWalk.

“My hats are off to the people here in Homer who have led this program,” he said. “You guys have been cleaning it up for 20 years. You’re taking away the amount that circulates in the local zone.”

King said some people he’s worked with get frustrated by the amount of marine debris they see, only to come back after years of effort and see a difference.

“I hope that you keep the faith,” King said. “Individuals and communities can make a difference.”

For more information on the Marine Conservation Alliance Foundation, visit www.marineconservationalliance.org. King said he welcomes e-mail from people who want “to talk trash” at marinedebris@alaska.net.