Perry Marine & Construction workers lower the second of four turbines into place in ORPC's TidGen™ turbine generator unit (TGU) which will be installed at ORPC's Cobscook Bay project site in August. Photo courtesy of ORPC.

Ceaseless, predictable, powerful – the tide is all of these things. We may be adding “illuminating” to that list as our nation’s first grid-connected commercial tidal energy project gets underway off the coast of Maine and begins to light up homes sometime in August. As part of a renewable energy plan, tidal energy may hold great promise for a cleaner energy future. It’s a relatively simple process to convert the kinetic energy of tides into power for the grid (not much different from a wind turbine, really) – but the process of siting and building tidal energy farms in our coastal waters is much more complex.

Cobscook Bay off Eastport, Maine may be one of the most ideal spots in the US for tidal energy. It sits at the mouth of the Bay of Fundy – which has the most extreme tidal fluctuations in the world (an average of 24 feet). It also enjoys a high level of biodiversity – with an abundance of migratory shorebirds and waterfowl, as well as finfish, lobsters, scallops, and clams. Critically endangered North Atlantic right whales use the area. Tourism, fishing, and aquaculture are important parts of the economy here. There are many stakeholders involved in an area where so many depend on the ocean for their livelihoods as well as for tourism and recreation.

The Cobscook Bay Tidal Energy Project from the Ocean Renewable Power Company (ORPC) has been ramping up since 2006. The company is set to deploy its first turbine in mid-August, and hopes to add several more in the coming decade.

In general, the process to site and build a tidal energy project involves the input and coordination of several federal, state, and local government agencies working with numerous existing energy production and environmental laws, as well integrating input from citizen and environmental groups, the energy industry, fishermen, and other stakeholders. Maine recently streamlined the process for developing tidal energy projects, and is now the only state on the East Coast with a formal agreement with the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC) to ensure federal and state coordination in the regulation of this new industry. But the process is still quite involved.

Complicated, right? Well, if this small commercial project in Eastport and others like it are successful, tidal energy is likely to grow in our coastal waters, and along with it, the challenges of planning for it. Recent U.S. Department of Energy reports find that ocean current power resources could potentially provide up to 250 terawatt-hours of electricity per year nationally (our current demand is around 4,000 terawatt-hours of electricity per year). Given the likelihood that ocean energy production is going to grow rapidly and dramatically, we need a better way through the process of planning for new energy development while protecting our valuable ocean resources and traditional uses.

The development in Eastport, Maine might provide some useful lessons in how to approach a project like this at a community level, using the principles of Regional Ocean Planning.

Chris Gardner, Executive Director of the Eastport Port Authority, said ORPC began working with the Port Authority and with local stakeholders from the very beginning of the process in 2006. The Port Authority saw the project as potentially benefitting the community economically, but were “very watchful about how they did their business and if they did it the right way” said Gardner. Fishermen were especially concerned about the project – worried that structures or construction activity would interfere with fishing grounds. According to Gardner, the company took the approach that it was ORPC’s own “responsibility to prove their case.”

John Ferland, ORPC Vice President, talked to me about what the company did to garner community support and ease concerns about tidal energy. First and foremost, he emphasized the importance of communicating with local residents and getting them involved as much as possible. “We have had so many meetings over the last several years. For a while there were a couple of community style meetings a year, and all sorts of private interactions and group meetings in between – city council meetings, selectmen, lots of informal meetings” said Ferland. “The State of Maine Ocean Energy Task Force cited ORPC’s efforts as a model for other ocean energy developers to follow,” he added.

The Cobscook Bay Resource Center facilitated a series of stakeholder and community meetings, as well as provided detailed information about the project on their website. (There is a really interesting clip from the PBS “Sustainable Maine” video with interviews of many of the people involved in and potentially affected by the project, as well as footage of how the turbines will work.)

As a result of conversations with local fishermen, ORPC was able to site the project in an area that wouldn’t impede their fishing. As one fisherman said in the PBS video, “You gotta be careful of what goes where.” In Cobscook Bay, Ferland said, tidal energy is ideal in places that are not important to fishing due to the nature of the ocean bottom and the high currents.

In addition to meeting with stakeholders, ORPC has been working with the University of Maine School of Marine Sciences on fisheries concerns, and with the New England Aquarium to minimize future potential impacts on marine mammals. Whenever possible, said Ferland, they prefer to hire local citizens as employees, local subcontractors as service providers, and have trained local residents as certified marine mammal monitors as part of the NOAA NMFS-required data gathering effort.

Any major human activity in our oceans and coastal waters is going to involve making some decisions about the best place for certain uses. Regional Ocean Planning is the process of defining these uses and potential conflicts, and seeking the optimal path of sustainable development and resource protection. Using the principles of ecosystem-based management, gathering and sharing the best possible data about ocean uses and impacts, and making sure every stakeholder has a say in the process – that’s Regional Ocean Planning in a nutshell.

The phrase I heard over and over as I was researching tidal energy in the Gulf of Maine was, “It’s a good idea, as long as it’s done right.” Regional Ocean Planning can be used to help manage ocean uses the right way – by involving stakeholders at the very beginning of a project, and keeping them engaged throughout, by examining the social, economic, and environmental effects of the project, by filling the data gaps needed to make science-based decisions, and by making the process adaptive so that changes can be made as new information comes in.

The current project in Cobscook Bay might be the beginning of major tidal energy development in the Gulf of Maine. The process of planning and implementation will get more complicated as the scale gets bigger – there will be more stakeholders involved, more potential environmental impacts, and more activities in the water. It is important to have a process that works for everyone.

We all have a lot to gain from the full implementation of the National Ocean Policy. For more information about the need for Regional Ocean Planning check out these blogs about sea level rise, coastal pollution, and protecting endangered whales from ship strikes.

Right whale skim feeding off Provincetown, MA. Photo: Brian Skerry

Shipping lanes in and around San Francisco Bay are being changed to protect the many whales that feed in its krill-rich waters. Blue whales, fin whales, and humpbacks will all benefit from the changes. This action took two years of collaboration, data-sharing, and negotiating among the shipping industry, government agencies, and environmental groups. This, in a nutshell, is the regional ocean planning process.

Why does this matter to a New England conservation group? Well, besides the fact that everybody loves a happy ending, New England has been a leader in this type of effort for many years now.

If there is one dramatic example of the need to coordinate our activities in New England’s ocean it is the tale of our beloved but extremely endangered North Atlantic right whales and the shipping traffic that was threatening their recovery.

Right whales love our productive Gulf of Maine waters – they find an abundance of their favorite krill and copepods that teem in our coastal areas. People are keeping a close eye on these urban whales, since there may be fewer than 500 of them left on the planet. This careful watching was why we knew that shipping traffic in and out of Boston Harbor was causing big problems for the right whales. In short – right whales are shallow feeders, making them highly vulnerable to fatal ship strikes. And each whale matters in such a small population.

Stellwagen Bank National Marine Sanctuary staff decided to take action to protect the right whales in a bold and unprecedented way. Using 25 years’ worth of whale sighting and state of the art acoustic research Stellwagen Bank officials discovered that the shipping lanes through the Sanctuary also contained the highest concentration of whales, resulting in too often fatal collisions. In a process that took three years and involved collaboration with the Port of Boston, researchers with Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, Cornell Bioacoustic Research Program, and a Texas-based energy company that relies on shipping in and out of the harbor – high quality data on the movements of whales in and around the Sanctuary was mapped and compared with shipping traffic in and out of Boston Harbor.

As a result, in 2007 the Sanctuary slightly altered the shipping lanes – reducing whale strikes by 81 percent.

This wouldn’t have happened without scientists, conservationists, local officials, federal agencies and private industry deciding to work together.

To ensure continuing whale protection there are buoys “listening” for right whales throughout the bay, and there’s even an app for ship captains so they can receive whale location updates on their cell phones – alerting them to slow down or avoid certain areas. A lot of people came together to create an innovative solution to this complicated problem by using the principles of regional ocean planning. Everyone who had a stake in the process had a seat at the table.

This type of coordination is the heart of regional ocean planning. It’s simply about making sure everyone has a say in what in happens in our busy waters, including those of us who value protecting wildlife and natural habitats. As we have more happening in the Gulf of Maine, more ships, more whales, more renewable energy development, we need to be careful to organize these activities in a way that also protects existing commercial and recreational uses.

The pioneering Massachusetts and Rhode Island state ocean use plans are serving as the building blocks of New England’s regional ocean plan for federal waters. CLF is at the vanguard of ocean planning, innovating in New England what has become a national policy initiative intended to improve stewardship of vulnerable marine wildlife and habitats with responsible ocean uses.

Waves off West Barnstable, Massachusetts. Photo: nd-nʎ@flickr

Sea levels are rising 3-4 times faster along the east coast, from North Carolina to Massachusetts, than the global average, says a new study by the United States Geological Survey (USGS). This “hot spot” of rising water puts us at unique risk from the changes that are happening to our ocean and will “increase the vulnerability of coastal cities to flooding, and beaches and wetlands to deterioration,” according to the report.

The reasons for our higher than average sea level rise are complex and involve changes in ocean circulation, temperature, and salinity, among other things (read the full report here if you want all the details). But you don’t need to understand why it’s happening to know that this is a problem we need to figure out how to manage. Look at the recent debate in Matunuck, Rhode Island over whether to “Save the Beach or Save your House” for an example of why this matters – and matters right now.

Ocean resources are currently managed by more than 20 federal agencies and administered through a web of more than 140 different and often conflicting laws and regulations. We have to find a better way to plan for our oceans and coasts in the face of the unprecedented changes that are already happening to them.

And there IS a better way. Regional Ocean Planning is one of nine objectives of the National Ocean Policy. It’s a way to make decisions about our ocean resources that helps us factor in multiple uses and changing conditions – by using the best data and latest information and, most importantly, working together.

Regional Ocean Planning is a science-based process of improving decisions about ocean resources before conflict arises – by involving everyone who has a stake in those resources, including municipalities, conservation groups, recreational users, and commercial and industrial entities.

The rate of sea level rise is predicted to continue increasing if our global temperatures keep rising. Hopefully our level of planning will rise as well.

Here they are! Some of Brian’s first ever pictures of Cashes Ledge. Every picture tells a story – but we are lucky enough to have some real stories to tell about these awesome pictures. We caught up with Brian shortly after he visited Cashes Ledge and asked him about the dive. Brian filled us in on some of the exciting details of this bona fide ocean odyssey:

Robin: You’ve never dived Cashes Ledge before, what were your first impressions?

Brian: As always when I am diving in a new place for the first time, all I see is chaos when I first get on the bottom, but over time I begin to zero in on specific behaviors to start making order and begin to put the puzzle together.

The kelp is beautiful, the stalks are 6-8 feet high, then they have fronds that lay horizontally for probably 10-15 more feet. They create this sea of kelp, literally a bed of kelp that you see when you first come down from the surface that looks like the bottom but isn’t. The descent line we sent down just disappeared through it. You’d follow it down to the kelp bed then you’d have to go another 6 or 8 feet to get to the bottom. It’s a false bottom of kelp fronds. It’s a lovely golden amber color, and there’s another species of kelp that’s sort of reddish, growing on the amber ones. It all looked good and lush and thick – very colorful and healthy looking.

There were lots of fish circling around. We saw quite a few red cod. There are a lot of pollock and quite a number of cod mixed in, and some of the cod are more traditionally colored, but some have the distinctive red/orange iridescent coloration.

Robin: What other kinds of wildlife did you see?

Brian: Besides pollock and cod, there were a lot of juvenile fish. We found out later they were cunner. They are bright orange when they are small, quite stunning, like the garibaldi in California. We saw quite a few whales on the surface, minke whales porpoising and coming up for air, but not close enough to photograph. There were invertebrates on the bottom, on ledges below the kelp. It’s definitely worth a lot more exploration. This is clearly a unique habitat.

Robin: Was this dive different from your expectations?

Brian: I’d heard about the Cashes Ledge kelp forest for years. People always say it’s not like California, so I expected an area that was covered in kelp on the bottom, but the brown kind that I usually see inshore, just a lot more of it – low-lying, a foot off the bottom. I didn’t expect anything like this. Stalks of kelp that were 8 feet high and long strands at the top that made this golden bed. It was very unique. The fish stayed localized, always in the area. They weren’t passing schools; they sort of hung out there. The kelp forest is probably a square mile or so – it’s a big area. But the fish were always there – in the background, silhouetted. It was very different from what I expected.

Robin: Did you see evidence of human activity in the area?

Brian: There was a tremendous amount of fishing gear out there. We tried to dive away from gear. But everybody on the trip remarked that there were a lot of fishing buoys on the surface. I think they were lobster traps, but I’m not sure. They were everywhere. This was surprising. Nobody expected this. A friend of mine remembers diving Cashes in the 80s, and said the fish used to be so thick that you couldn’t see your dive buddies. It’s not like that today, so the biomass must be down. But there was a good population of fish. I think a place like this with proper protection could come back to those levels that my friend observed 20-30 years ago.

Robin: Were there any unexpected difficulties?

Brian: No, but the currents got quite strong on Sunday and we had trouble getting to the dive-line buoy. Wearing a dry suit and 120 pounds of equipment you have to swim really hard against the current. We couldn’t get to the buoy, so the boat picked us up and we tried again and made it.

Robin: What was the water temperature?

Brian: Pretty warm for New England, probably 50 degrees.

Robin: Did the weather cause any problems?

Brian: No, the weather was really good. It progressively improved. Early Saturday it was fine, small waves, a little bumpy, but it got better and by Sunday was really calm. If the waves are big it’s hard to get back in the boat after the dive.

Robin: Was visibility low from the recent northeaster?

Brian: I don’t know why visibility was low. It was very typical of New England conditions. Turbid, but not terrible. Visibility was 20-25 feet, but hazy, not crystal clear. I tried to work close in and make some pictures that would still come out well.

Robin: Will you do anything differently next time you go to Cashes?

Brian: Not necessarily. I would like to have more time. To produce pictures in these conditions takes a lot of repeatability and serendipity. My M.O. is to dive a place over and over and keep working it, if I can. I could spend hours and hours working those fish. I’m very intrigued by the red cod. They are highly unique and beautiful with the golden kelp backdrop and green water. I would just like to do more of it.

Are you intrigued by the red cod, too? We will give you a look at those fascinating fish soon. In the meantime, enjoy some of these other sublime pictures Brian made in this vibrant special place in the Gulf of Maine!

This post was originally published on New England Ocean Odyssey.

Brian and crew back from Cashes Ledge. Copyright Brian Skerry.

“I didn’t expect anything like this. Stalks of kelp that were 8 feet high and long strands at the top that made this golden bed… This is clearly a unique habitat.”

Success! After two prior attempts foiled by bad weather and rough seas, last weekend Brian Skerry at last reached Cashes Ledge and was able to explore this extraordinary, ecologically important seascape – a first for the peripatetic Skerry. For two days Brian and his crew swam in Cashes’ unearthly kelp forests, among its waving amber fronds and remarkable red cod, making pictures that will reveal the mysteries and beauty of this unique New England treasure so far unknown to most.

About 80 miles off the coast of Massachusetts, Cashes Ledge is a submerged mountain range that nearly pierces the surface of the ocean and is home to the deepest kelp forest in the North Atlantic. Fields of anemones and brightly-colored sponges produce a fascinating marine landscape surrounding Ammen Rock, the highest peak of Cashes Ledge and New England’s underwater equivalent of Mount Washington.

Cashes Ledge is important not only to marine organisms but also to people hoping to learn about the history of New England’s oceans – many scientists believe that Cashes Ledge represents the best remaining example of an undisturbed Gulf of Maine ecosystem.

We will be sharing some of the extraordinary pictures Brian made – and the stories that go with them – next week. Stay tuned!

This is also published on New England Ocean Odyssey, which can be found here.

Robin Just is a volunteer for CLF with an educational and professional background in biology and water quality issues. This blog was originally published on TalkingFish.org.

When we talk about fish, it’s good to remember that they not only come from somewhere but that the somewhere makes the fish. Habitat is essential; without it even many migratory fish won’t have a place to call home.

An eelgrass bed beneath the waters of New Hampshire's Great Bay (Photo credit: Ben Kimball, courtesy of NH Division of Forests and Lands).

Many North Atlantic fish spend an important part of their life cycles in coastal eelgrass habitat, and eelgrass is declining. Eelgrass is a native submerged aquatic plant found in shallow waters from Nova Scotia to North Carolina’s Outer Banks. In the northern areas this hearty plant spends part of each year under sea ice. It is not a true grass, but a flowering plant that evolved from terrestrial flora. With thin, streamlined leaves, and an extensive root system, it is uniquely adapted to thrive in ocean tides and swell. What it isn’t adapted to deal with is nutrient pollution, dredging, and other anthropogenic stressors that have our productive eelgrass meadow areas on the decline.

Why does this matter to fish? Eelgrass is one of the most valuable habitats in the northeast. For example, in the early 1930s a “wasting disease” decimated 90% of the Atlantic eelgrass communities. This decline took a heavy toll on, among other things, bay scallops. Bay scallops are a commercially important shellfish that range from Cape Cod to Florida, and are very dependent on seagrass meadows. Not only do they attach to living eelgrass leaves after their larval stage, but they consume decaying leaves for a significant portion of their diet. Bay scallops declined dramatically throughout their range, coincident with the wasting disease, and populations didn’t begin to recover until the mid-1940s. Some populations, such as those in the Chesapeake Bay, have never come back.  Lobsters, clams, and other invertebrates also declined.

Loss of eelgrass habitat has an effect on other commercial fishery species as well. Some of these animals, such as cod, winter flounder, and lobster use eelgrass meadows as a refuge in their early life stages. The eelgrass provides places to stay hidden, feeding opportunities, and shelter from wave energy. Some species, such as striped bass, bluefish, tautog, and fluke will use eelgrass habitat as adults, as a place to hunt and forage.

A tautog in an eelgrass bed (Photo credit: MA Divison of Marine Fisheries).

In addition to providing a place to eat and live, eelgrass is part of the foundation of our marine food web. Eelgrass is a primary producer – turning aquatic carbon dioxide into food and energy through photosynthesis; it is then eaten by many animals that are then consumed by our commercially important species. In short: eelgrass matters a lot to New England fishery resources, and its decline is not good news.

The impact of the loss of eelgrass on these fisheries is hard to tease out from the many drivers of the decline in fish populations, including fishing pressure, habitat destruction, nutrient pollution, climate change, and other stressors. There has been almost no research done to numerically link the decline in eelgrass with population-level changes in commercial fisheries species. However, an 11-year study in Buzzards and Waquoit Bays found that loss of eelgrass was accompanied by significant declines in fish biomass, species richness, and other measures of community integrity. Worryingly, a recent investigation of New Hampshire eelgrass populations found they are declining by about 9% a year, and eelgrass mapping efforts in Massachusetts show significant declines as well. This is an issue the Conservation Law Foundation’s new Great Bay-Piscatqua Waterkeeper will be addressing.

While the link has yet to be fully characterized between commercial fish populations and healthy eelgrass, it is vital that recovering species have functioning near-shore ecosystems to support their reproduction and growth.

Why is eelgrass declining? The decline is worldwide. Our local populations are suffering from a combination of coastal development and nutrient pollution, dredging activities, over-grazing by Canada geese, and climate change. Here’s a brief description of each of those stressors:

• Eelgrass is extremely sensitive to light levels. Urban build-up and construction activities in our coastal areas put sediment in the water, which decreases water clarity, and that takes a toll on eelgrass populations . Nutrient pollution from wastewater, stormwater, and other human activities can promote blooms of algae that block light to these photosensitive plants and prevent them from growing.
•  Dredging activities uproot eelgrass and can completely decimate an eelgrass meadow. It can take ten years or more for eelgrass to recover from this kind of stress.
• Grazing pressure from Canada geese is on the rise as the warmer winters encourage more of them to stay local instead of heading south. More geese means competition for food, and the geese increasingly turn to eelgrass to get them through the winters.
• Climate change: as ocean temperatures rise, native plants feel the heat. There is evidence that northern populations of eelgrass will not be able to adapt to warmer waters as easily as the southern populations might.

Efforts to restore eelgrass are underway around New England, but it’s not a simple process. Areas that once supported thriving eelgrass meadows can be re-planted, but unless the factors involved in eelgrass decline are addressed, the efforts will probably fail. For example, if construction activities degrade nearby water quality, leading to eelgrass loss, and then the water quality recovers, restoration is possible. But if the water is still dirty, it’s not going to help, and the habitat is lost.

Waiting until we know exactly how eelgrass ecosystems and commercial fish populations are linked before we address eelgrass decline is a dangerous path to follow. Since we know for sure that many of our economically important species utilize this habitat, it makes sense to try and protect it. We need good science about the utilization of eelgrass habitat, and we need effective restoration efforts that address water quality and other physical stressors. This will give our recovering fish populations every opportunity to grow and thrive.

Image courtesy of Arctic Exploration 2002, Russ Hopcroft, University of Alaska, Fairbanks, NOAA/OER

Sharks need pteropods, and so do you! At the risk of looking at the world through shark-shaped glasses, let me explain.

Pteropods are little mollusks (related to snails, slugs and squid) that drift around in ocean currents, feeding on nutrient-rich plankton. Their rich diet makes them delicious to many fish. Seals eat many fish, and sharks eat seals and fish, so there it is: not even 6 degrees of shark separation. Sharks need pteropods, and so do you.

Pteropods are gorgeous. People get poetic when they talk about them. Pteropods with shells are sometimes called “sea butterflies” and the shell-less ones are deemed “sea angels.” But good luck seeing them. The ones around here are tiny. According to Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution (WHOI) pteropod researcher Amy Maas, the biggest they get is about 1/10 of an inch. Visible to the naked eye, but you probably couldn’t see their little faces. Small though they may be, unimportant they are not. Just ask the sharks.

As tiny sea creatures borne by currents, pteropods are individually delicate. Unfortunately, those with shells are under threat from ocean acidification (OA). I’ll be writing more about OA in the coming months, but here are the basics.

The carbon dioxide we are cranking into the atmosphere in unprecedented quantities does not just hang around heating up the planet, it also changes the chemistry of the oceans. The gases in the ocean must be at equilibrium with the gases in the air, so when CO2 concentrations increase in  the air, some of it dissolves into the ocean to achieve that balance. This forms carbonic acid, which decreases the pH of the water, making it more acidic. Ocean Acidification.

This is not good news for these little mollusks, since the minerals they need to grow shells are less available in the acidic water. WHOI scientist Gareth Lawson and other ocean researchers are trying to figure out exactly what will happen to our “charismatic microfauna” as the ocean pH drops. I’ll keep you posted. For now, check out this site about pteropods and OA (don’t miss the song at the bottom, it’s super catchy)

Carbon pollution and ocean acidification are not just New England issues. Yet, while OA is a global problem, there are things we can do right here, right now, to help.

CLF is working hard to prevent further harm and to give our abundant ocean life a chance to thrive. We are promoting clean energy and reductions in greenhouse gas emissions to help stop OA and other negative effects of climate change. We are supporting a climate friendly modernized public transportation network. And we support our National Ocean Policy which calls for immediate steps to protect critical marine habitats, ensure a sustainable future for our fishing industry and coastal communities, reduce coastal pollution and promote the responsible development of offshore renewable energy.

By the way, according to the Shark Week Countdown Clock, only 231 more days to go!

I really do love our New England sharks. But I also love to surf. And as the water temperature at my favorite break is going down, the great whites are heading south. One less thing to worry about as I struggle with frigid water, thick head-to-toe neoprene, and my own personal resolve to surf all year long.

Out of sight may be good news for a surfer like me, but it’s important that we don’t let these magnificent creatures get out of mind. With Shark Week 2012 still 263 days away and counting, I am resolved to do occasional posts of shark news, facts and conservation updates to help get us through the long, sharkless months ahead.

So to kick things off, here are a few of my favorite current events, a la shark:

• Taiwan will no longer allow shark finning, starting next year. Hopefully this type of ban will become more prevalent, and our important apex predator will be allowed to grow in size and number and help our oceans thrive. If you’re not sure you want more sharks, and bigger ones at that, consider the incredibly important role they play in our marine ecosystems. In short, they help preserve a healthy balance of species, from other large fish, on down to clams and oysters.

• And a great local story: the Cape Cod Shark Hunters. Don’t worry, they don’t hunt to kill. They track down “The Landlord” (surfer nickname for great whites) and tag it. Then scientists from Woods Hole and the Massachusetts Division of Marine Fisheries track them to learn more about their habits, and to help us know when it isn’t safe to go in the water. I love their slogan: “Tag a shark, save a tourist!”

If you love sharks and can’t wait until my next post, check out the series I did around Shark Week 2011. More to come soon!

This is the fifth and last post in our Shark Week Series. Happy Shark Week, everyone!

Many rational people are very afraid of sharks. We can tell ourselves that the odds of attack are extremely low, especially in New England, but the primal image of the gaping maw and jagged teeth is hard to drive away with logic. As David Ropeik points out in his thought-provoking book, How Risky Is It, Really?, a risk feels bigger if you think it can happen to you, regardless of the odds. Sharks attacks are easy to imagine. However, if you look at the numbers, you should be way more worried about the drive to the beach, or lightning. The odds of death by shark each year in the U.S. are 1 in 3,748,067. You are way more likely to die from a dog attack. Here are some other things that are deadlier than a shark:

• Car accident – you have a 1 in 84 chance of dying in a car crash each year
• Death by sun/heat exposure – 1 in 13,729 per year
• Death by fireworks – 1 in 340,733 per year

I do worry about sharks. Almost anyone who spends time in the ocean thinks about them. But I worry a lot more about getting sick from polluted water.

Potentially harmful bacterial pollution enters our coastal environment in partially or untreated wastewater and stormwater, in septic and cesspool waste, and from animal waste on or near beaches. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, illnesses caused by recreational use of contaminated water are on the increase. For the fifth year in a row, beach closure or advisory days in 2010 topped 24,000 nationally, the majority which are due to bacterial contamination. Swimming in pathogen-contaminated water can result in respiratory infections, pink eye, stomach flu and many other health problems.

Many popular beaches have water-testing programs to help keep swimmers safe, but the testing is generally not daily, and the results are not “real time.” It’s a good idea to avoid the water during or after a storm, when bacteria levels are likely to be higher, since some of our stormwater is untreated. Worse still, many towns and cities in New England have antiquated Combined Sewer Overflow (CSO) systems that are designed to release untreated sewage and stormwater into our rivers and oceans during storms. Some beaches close down as a result of storms, without even being tested, if it is known that CSOs will be flowing into the water. Fortunately, some CSOs are being upgraded and eliminated. But for now, there is still a very real risk of illness from swimming in contaminated water.

There is risk in everything we do. I’m willing to risk an encounter with one of the “Men in Gray Suits” if it means I get to keep surfing. But I’m going to be very careful about swimming in polluted water.

My point is not that we should be too afraid to enjoy our amazing beaches and ocean life. But, that we should work to protect them. Join CLF in advocating for our National Ocean Policy, in protecting the Clean Water Act, and in ensuring we leave a legacy of protecting these special places.