28 WATERLINE
DECEMBER 2012
The Rena, the glistening sands and zany Dr. Jim There’s no problem! I have it on very good authority that there isn’t a problem when tonnes of oil spill into the ocean. The Rena oil spill would never have been a problem if it had been sorted properly right from the start. ‘How do I know this?’ I have inside knowledge, read and learn! I ran into a hard case, rather aged, expert at the top of the Mount the other day. There’s not a lot of people in the twilight zone that walk up there so I felt a bit of a camaraderie with this lean old walker. He was old enough to have been a bloody old bloke like me now, when I started regularly walking the Mount 30 years ago. We stood together by the picnic table, me catching my breath and wondering whether my old heart’s flapping diaphragm would actually settle down. ‘Hey mate, see that lump way out there by Motiti, that’s the Rena, the captain was drunk and drove it onto the reef out there.’ ‘That’s kind of not what happe.........’ He cut me off. ‘They stuffed it up’ he said. ‘Stuffed what up?’ I asked. That Rena thing. They stuffed it up. The oil wouldn’t have been a problem if they had composted it.’ ‘Composted it? Really?’ ‘Yep, if they had lined a shallow trench with compost and then stuck the mix of sand and oil on top of the compost and then covered it with soil and sand, then they could have grown community vegetable gardens that would feed the homeless and stop kids going to school hungry.’ I didn’t like to tell the old fellow that his proposal sounded pretty unlikely. Didn’t quite know how to put it to him that the clever people, scientists and experts etc would really know best, so I sat down on one of the park benches to get my old ticker into a normal rhythm wondering what I could say to him. ‘I thin..........’ and he cut me off again. ‘Yep, all that oil is just bloody compost isn’t it?’ He glared at me and I couldn’t help a strange gleaming light in his eye. ‘Oil is just decomposed ancient forests mate, that’s all it is, just vegetable oil, just like soy oil or olive oil, when it gets spilt over the ocean and washes up on the nearest
beach all they need to do is have huge heaps of compost close, strategically placed at 400 or 500 metre intervals.’ ‘I’m sure that would add to attractiveness of the beach.’ I said. ‘Absolutely, I love compost, its the soul of the earth. People would be able to get rid of all their household waste, old news papers, vegetable scraps, old clothes, pet litter, lawn clippings and garden waste in big heaps every 400 metres along the beach. ‘And one of these heaps could be within a couple of hundred metres of every beach front home, for everyones’ convenience, sounds to me like people are not quite ready for that yet.’ ‘Don’t believe it, there are a lot of people who want organic toilet systems, there are huge apartment blocks that could drop all their waste dunny stuff onto the nearest heap, and that would absolutely ensure that there would be plenty of compost when the next oil spill comes around.’ ‘Mmmm..............................’ I was just about to say something profound when he cut me off. ‘Imagine, Mount Maunganui could lead the world in alternative urban sewage systems and become a major tourist attraction as well as being able to set up technical research programmes that could share their findings with the world. Govt could sell uni courses and polytechnic diplomas to the world.’ The gleam in his eye seemed to occult, almost sparking spasmodically. ‘But I reckon the probl......’ He cut me short again, that’s not something that happens to me much.’ ‘They haven’t got a clue mate, the world is run by total retards who just want things to cost more and more so they can make a whole lot more money. There’s only 10 men controlling the planet’s economy and as soon as they can figure out how to get rid of us all, they will do it. And.......” I cut him short. ‘I’ve got to head down now but it was really interesting chatting with you.’ I held out my hand to him. ‘My name is Butler, Graeme Butler.’ I introduced myself. ‘Nice to meet a thinking Man,’ he said, ‘Jim Grizzle.’ He shook my hand. ‘Dr Jim Grizzle.’ ‘Good day to you Dr Jim,’ I said, ‘are you a medical Doctor?’
‘No, I did a PhD at the University of Patagonia, studied bamboo as it happens.’ ‘Bloody hell’, I thought, even back then education must have been pretty easy. I kind of half jogged away from Dr Jim and headed down the track for the base. I looked out over the beautiful blue Bay of Plenty, out toward White Island, Motiti, Mayor and along the coast of Matakana toward the distant Coromandel. Then looked at the apartment buildings and the long white beaches, slowly filling with people again as the Rena disaster is consigned to the past, and I anticipate another incredible summer watching dolphins, meeting all sorts of people from all the countries in the world, and if yesterday was anything to go by, an even greater population of dolphins to play with. Then I looked at the stunning white beach stretching all the way to Maketu. Dr Jim had shown me a real truth, that those people who cleaned up the beach and contained the oil without reverting to a steaming heap of compost every 400 metres along its length certainly won my everlasting respect and support. I hope each and every one of those amazing people that have helped in any way to save the iconic Mount beach, has a wonderful Christmas and can take the time to enjoy this spectacular region knowing there are people like me, and lots of them, that are very grateful for their efforts. And for as long as my legs point straight down, I will fight and fight and fight against any great steaming stacks of compost becoming part of any new first response to oil pollution. As for fascinating old Dr Jim, well I doubt that I would have become just as acutely aware of how amazing this Bay of Plenty community and their home region is. I hope Dr Jim manages to have a great Christmas too, and that his hard won PhD will do someone somewhere some good. And I hope he keeps spreading the word, it just may make other people, just as complacent as me, wake up.