Robert D Sluka, Ph.D. leads A Rocha’s Marine Conservation Programme. He is a curious explorer, applying hopeful, optimistic and holistic solutions to all that is ailing our oceans and the communities that rely on them. Robert’s research focuses on marine biodiversity conservation, plastic pollution, and fisheries, particularly marine protected areas. The ultimate goal is to glorify God through oceans and communities being transformed using holistic marine conservation.
Imagine your perfect beach day. Do you picture having to swim around floating plastic bags? I doubt it. Would this just spoil a nice day at the beach or out snorkeling, or is there a deeper faith issue here? What is the ultimate purpose of beauty?
A cross-cultural team is hard work. Each of us brings a set of norms, ways we see the world and ways we expect others to see it. It all led to a lot of discussion. Time, punctuality, and lateness were certainly one of the default conflict zones; another was status.
If anyone has earned the right to comment about monetizing nature it is Christiaan Bakkes: he spent twenty years in Namibian conservation organizations helping it to happen. But at the heart of the enterprise was a contradiction which is undoing all the gains of the previous fifteen years. Now the wildlife is being decimated.
We were often asked to study the wildlife of areas in need of conservation, but even more often groups came to Aammiq to see how a community dialogues and decides to restrain itself from more and more consumption of land, resources, and wildlife to the benefit of all and for a heritage to be passed on to future generations.
Every spring and fall, the North American prairies host a remarkable event. It’s called kettling. Migrating Sandhill Cranes Grus canadensis pause en route to come together and ride the thermals. I’ve just come back from a similar sort of family reunion.
“You are breaking the mould. Abu Charbel, like many others, thinks the church should keep to traditional areas of work.” “But what about priorities?” I pressed. “What is the most important thing? Preaching, poverty relief, or conservation of rare species?”
This April there were unseasonable storms in Cyprus. Travelling around to see if there was any potential for an A Rocha project, I was struck by the contrast between the resulting shadow and the sunlight. That combination of light and dark seems to typify the island.
It was a transformed class that reconvened under the shade of the ash tree a couple of hours later. It was like conducting an orchestra to establish the learning objectives of the lesson; the wetland provided invaluable services to the human communities of the Bekaa, it contained rare and beautiful species and it needed protection. We didn’t stop there; questions tumbled from the class all the way back to the bus.
The tent was dark but warm inside, a simple wood stove providing a flickering light. The bitter, piping-hot coffee was in an elaborate brass pot. Most of the year they lived in Homs in Syria but each spring, and sometimes in the autumn, they would get the tent out of storage and make the trek to the Bekaa for extra work.
St Helena is a sobering place to ecological eyes. In the early 17th century the Portuguese landed goats and in a hundred years they had reduced huge areas of lush landscape to bare rock. In the centuries that followed, we have made the world itself an island where the goats of hyper-individualism, corporate greed and short-term political ambition are roaming more or less unchecked.
