Everything in me wants the UN Ocean Conference in Nice, France to be a wild success, with countries committing heart and soul to protecting the ocean, organisations forging connections and creating clever collaborations, and funders throwing unhindered bags of money at worthy projects.
But (almost) absolutely nothing in me wants to be there.
Maybe I’m old. Maybe I’m cynical. In the past three decades I’ve attended many conferences around the world. Maybe I’ve developed an allergy.
I think I first noticed the aversion about seven years ago. I was headed to a conference in a beautiful city. But the thought of the crowds, the running what felt like a few kilometres to get from one talk to the next in time, the frantic networking, the long hours, the often-dull presentations given by people who were decidedly, tiresomely full of themselves and my growing inability to care to concentrate on a word that was said – why would one want to put oneself through that?
Look, I must admit that I used to work as a full-time financial journalist and there’s nothing quite as mind-numbing as the arrogant CEO of an unexciting company telling you how great they are. Ocean conferences are different – I will miss hearing about exceptional research and brilliant projects and speaking all things sea with like-minded people who care deeply about the issues I care about. And I’ll miss having the in-person opportunity to meet the wonderful ocean people from around that world who I’ve worked with or had contact with.
But that’s where any hint of FOMO ends.
Nice in France isn’t huge. Like the gorgeous city I live in, Cape Town, it’s hemmed in by mountains and ocean, making for congestion. Its population density is more than twice that of Cape Town’s. It’s going to be summer, so over and above thousands of conference delegates, it’ll be the start of tourist season. And potentially hot. The costs, if you’re paying in South African rand, at 20 to 1 with the euro, makes buying anything expensive. And trying to choose between the dazzling array of talks and events on offer would just make my head hurt. Looking at the various programs online has already been overwhelming.
So instead of coercing myself into jostling with thousands of sweaty people to frantically attend everything possible and make a ridiculous amount of contacts and having to talk so much that my throat is sore by the end of every long day, I decided that for a “big” trip this year, I’m going to a small, far flung island and I’m going to put my money where my mouth is.
A disclaimer before I go any further. I work from home in a quiet part of Cape Town, so I’ve become unaccustomed to loads of talking, hustling and socialising. I’m not yet a hermit, but I might be headed in that direction. I think I may prefer turtles to most people.
Anyway, back to that island I mentioned. As someone who is a later-in-life career switcher, I’ve not had time out in the field doing hands on conservation work. Apart from being a turtle volunteer for Cape Town’s Two Oceans Aquarium Foundation, that is. So instead of Nice and the hoards, I’ve chosen Pom Pom Island off Borneo.
I’ll be spending three weeks volunteering with the Tropical Research and Conservation Centre (TRACC) helping to rescue and rehabilitate turtles (something I have experience with) and planting coral (something that’s going to be new and an exciting learning opportunity). I’ll be scuba diving up to three times a day – a fact that fills my little scuba-addicted heart with unbridled joy. I’ll be meeting marine life I’ve never yet come across. And a few people. What a privilege it’s going to be.
I’m under no illusion that it’s all going to be easy. The reality of coral reefs damaged by dynamite fishing and bleaching will hurt. Seeing the pain humans (and nature) inflict on turtles will be heart-breaking. But the eco-depression has been real without being in the field. Perhaps confronting the gut-kicking truth of our nasty anthropogenic impact on the ocean up close and personal will be good for me. Kind of like aversion therapy with phobias where it’s possible to lessen a response to certain stimuli through over exposure. And there’s the fact that I’ll be physically doing something, however small, to try and protect our embattled ocean.
If you’re headed to Nice, I hope it’s nice. I truly do. And I hope with every fibre in me that significant movements to protect our ocean are successful. I’ll be genuinely wishing you all well while at the same time being overcome with relief that I’m somewhere calm and peaceful far, far away.
Renée Bonorchis is the founder of The Ocean Advocate, a South African-based ocean literacy and education project, which is endorsed as a Decade Action by the UN Ocean Decade. Renée is also a member of the UN Ocean Decade’s strategic communications group and here are some photos of her out in the field/beach/ocean where she prefers.
