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I’ve been listening to Nick Cave a lot recently. Also, #sext, obviously.

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Board of Water Supply

brooklynhawaii

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Interview Continued

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Foggy skateboarding runs in the Faroe Islands. www.chrisburkard.com

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San Francisco

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For Nicky

I didn’t even have time to turn on the lights.

     I was 12 when they raced in Valencia, in November of 2006. After a season that had everyone enthralled and on edge, we came to a head at Valencia. I was 12 and yet I had already loved this sport the way I would continue to until now. That season, I watched every single round, and despite being the little flower girl at my uncle’s wedding, I left the reception, dressed to the nines, up to our hotel room to do as anyone who had been there every single round would, and watch the race. Back then, there was no such thing as streaming things on your iPhone, so I ran inside the room, put on the telly to make the start, and didn’t even have time to turn on the lights.

     Nicky won that day. Not just that day, but the year, the season, and what felt like the world. As a fan of the #46, I was devastated. Selfishly, because all I wanted was another title in our bag. I remember vividly seeing a gigantic spread in the paper the next day of Nicky on his cool-down lap, crying, while flying his flag high, and at 12 years young throwing around the word “hate” like I knew what I was talking about.

     But I knew then and I know now that “hate” is truly the farthest thing you can feel about Nicky. The outpouring of tributes today have said it all. I loved the way he was so out of place on the roster, this American with the most distinct Southern roll to his tongue. I loved his perfect teeth and his perfect grin. How we probably saw so little of him on TV and in the news, and yet know that he must have been as bloody good—if not better—as a man as he was on a bike. He looked like someone who could make you laugh until your cheeks hurt. I loved seeing him alongside VR in orange, and then again in red. It made me sad hearing him leave the class when he did; I even wrote about it. And it made me equally happy last year when I saw photos that he’d posted about proposing to his girlfriend.

     We’re reeling from today’s news. And I can’t begin to comprehend how it must feel for those who had the fortune of being a part of his great, short life. Ride on, Kentucky Kid. We already miss you.

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From a panga off the coast of La Paz

There was a time in my childhood when all I wanted to be was a marine biologist. One of my most prized possessions were a set of flashcards or something of the like that had pictures of individual animal species on one side and information about them on the other, and I was convinced that one day I’d have a career in species conservation. That dream, clearly never worked out :p But even though I’m past the days of wishing Steve Irwin would adopt me as an honorary family member (RIP, hero), there’s still no ecosystem I cherish more than the ocean and no set of people I envy more than those who get to spend their time in the sea day in and day out, studying or working to protect it and the creatures within it.

      Ian and I went on vacation last month to the Baja Peninsula and, given everything I wrote above, I of course made it an absolute on this trip that we had to swim with the whale sharks before they left Mexico’s Gulf of California for the season. This area is so rich in biodiversity Jacques Cousteau even called it the “aquarium of the world,” and we were so lucky to explore the Sea of Cortez with a guide who embodies what it means to respect an environment this special. Anna’s spent years taking small groups out to encounter whale sharks, and everyone she meets, she teaches them how to respect these creatures, about their behaviors, how they’re now officially deemed endangered by the IUCN, even down to what kind of sunscreen we should all be wearing when we swim in oceans (biodegradable and oxybenzone-free, for the sake of our coral reefs). Badass that she was, she also fiercely called out boats and dinghies we encountered on our trip that were potentially harmful and clearly unlicensed to operate in those waters.

      Though it took us a bit of time to spot a shark, when we finally took the plunge with one, it was a heart-stopping experience unlike any other. So lucky. So humbled. And to know I did this in the wild, in their territory, was everything I needed to be reminded of how small we are in the world, and because lest we continue supporting “animal encounters” in ocean theme parks and pathetic concrete-walled excuses for “natural habitats.”

      Needless to say, I can now see how hard it is to develop real, honest respect and understanding of the grandeur of the ocean and its residents until one gets in the water and experiences what it has to offer. Even on a boat, we’re still one step removed. But when you take the plunge, and get close enough to look something like the world’s largest shark in the eye, my God do you feel otherworldly, and even more so do you wonder how anyone in the world could possibly dare harm creatures as majestic as these.

      Reality, of course, is that they’re endangered for a reason, and that there are pockets of people who do dare and even make a living out of harming them. Coming back from this trip, I was reminded real hard about a documentary that’s near and dear to me—Louie Psihoyos’ Racing Extinction. In 2015, I had the opportunity to intern with Discovery, right around the time Discovery Channel was due to launch Racing Extinction. If you watch the doc (which you should to do yourself a favor), you’ll remember the part where Louie’s team projects stellar photographs of animals onto landmarks like the Empire State Building, and I remember vividly getting the email at work announcing the project and feeling so proud to be (even the least bit) associated with an entity I believe so much in.

      The documentary goes deep into the illegal shark trade still present in East Asia and the harvesting of manta rays in Lamakera, Indonesia, among others. The Lamakera case, especially, hits home not only because it’s happening in my ‘backyard,’ but because it sheds light on human acts of killing species not for the sake of killing that we can so easily deem cruel and gratuitous, but for the sake of their livelihood, which ends up posing the case as more complex and challenging than I was used to. The filmmakers learn that fishing for and exporting manta rays were the only way people knew how to make a living in this remote area, and the villagers make a valid point that if conservationists from afar traipse in to try and get them to stop, they’re going to have to offer an alternative means of feeding entire families and sending kids to school. We also come to terms that these fishermen aren’t antagonists. That they’re aware if they overfish, there will come a day when their children won’t get to experience the beauty of these rays in the flesh. They’d probably grieve before the rest of us do.

      You’ll know when you watch that it’s heartbreaking, but the more important takeaway from the documentary is that we’re deeply rooted in the desire to protect—and that we can educate each other on how. That’s not a cheesy throwaway line; let it sink in. Societies like Lamakera aren’t backwards, but they are likely going through growing pains, just like developed communities did before they eventually thrived. Which brings me back to the Sea of Cortez, where fishermen off the coast of Mexico turned what was a hunting culture into a tourism culture, when steps were taken to educate and improve infrastructure that allowed them to discover that they yielded more income taking visitors out on eco-conscious tours to see the whale sharks than hunting for them. “Simple economics,” according to Psihoyos. And having literally experienced the benefits of this positive shift, it’s clear as day.

      To be honest, I haven’t come to terms about what the purpose of this post really is haha. It’s half a way for me to remind myself how eye-opening and plain f-ing awesome the whale shark experience was, and half a very convoluted way of saying how I adore mediums that allow me to learn about causes I care about. As a collective, there’s so many of us who don’t mobilize for change because we still find it hard to empathize and wrap our heads around why we should (great example here courtesy of Vox), but Racing Extinction reminds me that the more we figure out human behavior, the more we tap into ways to spur people into action, be it through the power of photography or ‘gamifying’ your electric bill (both of which were covered in the documentary). It also introduced me to people like Leilani Münter, which if you look her up, will understand why she basically embodies everything I love; race car-driver-slash-environmental-activist? As in she harmonizes two of my favorite, seemingly incongruous worlds like a boss? Can I be her?

      To that end, today’s a good a day as any to begin to move the needle. I’m probably not gonna go and try and clone myself into Leilani Münter but I do have aspirations to use what I’m good at and passionate about skill-wise to eventually create something that circles back to the protection of our planet and the species that roam it. Maybe come back to me in a couple years to see how that’s going. By that time, I hope I have something to brag about, including some more whale shark encounters because Lord knows I’ll want to do that again.

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@The100writers  .@WildpipM sits behind the DP’s monitors in between takes #The100

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Heart throbbing for these two charmers, and the line that’s still one of my aching favorites

Without your voice to tell me, “I love you, take a right”