Saved by Unity /
A diverse group of volunteers prevents a pollution nightmare.
A snapshot of those involved in the Fox River clean-up
Igaze across at the row of souls sitting opposite me during this bouncy ride through the undulating terrain of Fox River; their discomfort endured with each bump overridden by a not-so-subtle shared amusement of riding in a military vehicle. Luckily, I have a professional history with the military, so the only discomfort brought to me during this jolty ride in a New Zealand Defence Force (NZDF) Pinzgauer truck is the fact that I feel far too familiar with it. Cody, currently on a break from schooling to participate in Operation Tidy
Fox (OTF), is seated across from me. He has already been here a week, so the bumpy ride does not seem to bother him too much either. Seated, more or less as the bumps allow, on Cody’s right is Susan, who is taking time away from her minimalistic and carefully constructed sustainable property on the North West Coast. On Cody’s left is my hostel room-mate, Nancy, 75 years old from Waikato, whose relief is difficult to hide as the driver announces our arrival to today’s job site. We all pile out of the truck, with a little less panache and vigour than the military probably do, and gaze out at the landscape that we will call our workplace for the next six hours.
Rising behind me are the peaks of the Tasman and
Cook mountain range, with the Fox Glacier gliding down the valley before us. The glacial water streaming around us is crystal clear, and the marsh beside Fox River is a radiant green. From the outset, it would be difficult for a fresh volunteer to believe the reasons that had brought us here in the first place. ‘Over here,’ someone yells, ‘there’s plenty amongst the trees.’ I wander towards the source of the voice, which has attracted an entourage of people to the perimeter of the marsh. And then, the whole facade really comes crashing down. Strewn before us, caught amongst the stems and foliage of shrubs, or floating obnoxiously in the creek, is a deluge of plastic litter. Upon further investigation, we realise that the problem runs deeper than first thought.
Just like an iceberg, the rubbish is actually most prevalent beneath the surface, wedged in the bogs and ruts of the ground and topped with a layer of silt. Avoiding the temptation to look despondent, we sling our sandbags over our shoulders, and get to work excavating the filth from the mud, each extraction relieving the pores of the Earth.
Commencing on 26 June 2019, OTF was the coordinated effort led by New Zealand’s Department of Conservation (DOC) to clean ‘the river-bed and coast downstream of the Fox Glacier landfill’. In the final week of March this year, severe wet weather and flooding, not unfamiliar to the West Coast, caused a partial collapse of a disused landfill. Consequently, debris and rubbish, which had been discarded from the 1960s up until two decades ago, washed into and polluted both the Fox and Cook riverbeds, as well as 64 kilometres of coastline. Between the initial flooding incident and the recent cessation of OTF, the responsibility for the removal of the pollution has transitioned between agencies, with periodic gaps in between officially organised clean-up efforts. However, from the moment a single piece of plastic washed up on the West Coast, there has been a consistent presence of devoted, tireless volunteers ensuring that the
situation was monitored, attended to and reported on.
Leading that effort was Mike Bilodeau, an Okarito local who assumed the responsibility for planning and executing volunteer clean-up efforts whilst government agencies were still reacting to news of damaged infrastructure. ‘The extent of the problem wasn’t being acknowledged,’ he tells me. ‘I emailed letters to the Prime Minister’s office, other Central Government ministers and every media organisation I could think of. We needed to get the word out as fast as possible.’ Mike’s call for action drew volunteers from as far as Auckland, and they made it their mission to locate all affected areas so that Westland District Council (WDC) assets were better informed once they commenced a coordinated clean-up response. ‘Some volunteers were sleeping in the backs of their cars. We were working up to 18 hours a day, and everyone was doing that work for free,’ Mike recounts, visibly recalling the memory in his mind. When WDC relinquished responsibility for the clean-up in May, but DOC had not yet taken over, Mike and his team were once again required to step in and ensure that, even as winter conditions set in, the situation did not go unchecked. ‘The tools we were using were covered in ice every morning, and people were pulling rubbish from frozen water,’ says Mike. ‘It is irresponsible to put tourists and citizens into that position. Although the camaraderie was amazing, we can’t keep relying on the goodwill of people to fix this when it happens again.’
When DOC officially took over and commenced OTF, the efforts of Mike and his team were never going to be forgotten. ‘Mike kicked off the awareness and brought a sense of urgency to the issue. Everybody has a great deal of respect for the role that he played,’ says Jose Watson, Communications Advisor for DOC and OTF Media Relations Coordinator.
Almost immediately after New Zealand’s Minister of Conservation, Eugenie Sage, announced on 19 June that the coordination of the Fox River clean-up would be taken over by DOC, an appeal was made to anyone who could afford the time to travel to Fox Glacier and participate with the effort, as an approximate area of 1700 hectares of polluted water reservoirs and coastline had been identified for rehabilitation. DOC also offered meals and accommodation to every person who volunteered, for the duration of their stay. This appeal was successful, and within a month volunteer numbers had swelled to over a hundred people per day, with logistic requirements, such as personnel transport, being bolstered by elements of NZDF. By the time I arrived, some people had already given over a month of their time to the clean-up effort, and were prepared to stay until the job was done. One such person was Lisa, who had journeyed all the way from California to backpack in New Zealand before resuming college study in her home city of Los Angeles. By the time OTF was completed, she had spent half of her holiday collecting rubbish from the ribbons of Fox River.
After a 20-minute hacking session at a pile of weeds laced with plastic bags, I stop to wipe my brow and survey the repair work bustling around me. Styling trendy, fluorescent DOC vests and wielding trusty garden forks, I observe the volunteer team filling sacks of rubbish at an impressive rate. In seeing this, the diversity amongst the people working that day stood out to me as obvious as a plastic cola bottle protruding from the fork of a tree. There was hardly a point on the spectrum of age that was not covered by at least one volunteer. Cody was the youngest at 12 years old. Eddie, a retired gentleman at 78 years, was the oldest. In addition to this, the commitment by people of various backgrounds was astonishing. In order to participate, some had driven from as far as the Bay of Islands; some were foreigners who were partway through their adventure holiday of New Zealand. Some were taking time away from study, and others had used their annual leave entitlement. ‘We have a massive asset with our environment. It is in our nature as New Zealanders to stand up for it when it is threatened,’ attests Lou Sanson, Director General for DOC. Being Australian, this display of unity, through diversity, failed to escape me as I had recently witnessed a federal election wherein sections of our demographic were leveraged against each other on issues of importance. Notably, those who were perceived to ‘care’ for environmental concerns, versus those who, apparently, do not. This polarising tactic was divisive, and left many uncertain about our future in the wash-up from the election. So, it went without saying that I was ready to witness an event wherein unity, instead of squabbling, was driving progress. I found it ankle-deep in 20-year-old rubbish.
Western society seems to be increasingly dividing itself based on political alignment, and it is no secret that the uncertainty surrounding climate change, including which governing bodies are best equipped to deal with the issue, is a driving force behind this division. Unfortunately, personal characteristics such as age seem to be getting dragged into this battle for political gain, resulting in a modern form of prejudice known as ‘ageism’. Apart from being human, progressing through age is one of the few characteristics that everyone on this planet shares, yet it seems that once
‘It’s impressive to see how energetic people are to clean up this place.’
our collective back has been forced against the wall, many are prepared to wield this irksome form of bias against generations either senior or junior to themselves. When regarding the issue of climate change or environmental degradation, Millennials and ‘Generation Z’ have been quick to point the finger at those who have gone before them, accusing elder generations of leaving a ruined world behind, depleted of resources and void of biodiversity, for those coming next to clean up. In a March 2017 interview with Time Magazine, Trevor Noah, a social commentator and comedian popular amongst millennials, unequivocally stated that ‘of course old people don’t care about the planet because they’re not going to be here for the consequences’. Understandably, the reaction from those who must have deemed themselves to be in this ‘old people’ category was, to put it mildly, less than impressed. In making such a gross generalisation about anyone senior to himself, Noah has neglected to acknowledge some of the most ecologically concerned and creative minds that have gone before him.
A two-kilometre stroll with Nancy and Eddie back to the volunteers’ lunch location was more than enough evidence to quash any confident generalisation that senior generations care nothing for the planet. ‘How old are you, Eddie?’ Nancy asks. ‘Seventy-eight,’ replies Eddie, in between breaths. ‘Well, you’ve got me beaten; I’m only 75.’ If it was not for the fact that Eddie was hobbling due to, unfortunately, injuring his hip whilst collecting rubbish from uneven ground, I might have laughed at this friendly competition of age. And whilst ambling along the river, with full view of Fox Glacier before us, both Nancy and Eddie regaled me with stories of a beautiful and undisturbed New Zealand, the kind of country that they hope to leave for their grandchildren.
I am certainly not suggesting that those of an elder generation are innocent in this collision. So far, 2019 has been the year for youth protest against slow government reaction to a warming planet, with none other than the impressive Greta Thunberg leading, responsibly, from the front (at the time of writing, Thunberg is aboard a solar-powered yacht destined for New York, in order to appear at the Climate Action Summit without compromising her stance on ‘no flying’). Such protest events have seen students in over one hundred countries deliberately ‘strike’ from school in order to participate in peaceful, but boisterous objection to perceived government failure to act on the climate crisis and safeguard the future of humanity. How have some of the more conservative politicians reacted to these youth initiatives? By stoking the flames. Several, including Australian Prime Minister Scott Morrison and former New South Wales Minister for Education, now Minister for Planning, Rob Stokes, preferred to shun students for their peaceful activism and passion for their future, stating instead that ‘kids’ ought to avoid breaking the law by staying in school and ‘focussing less on activism’. It is easy to see why many students may have comprehended this kind of response from their political leaders as either an apathetic attitude concerning their future, or as a reprimand against their right to protest. The situation is then further exacerbated when ignorant labels are commonly brandished against youth, such as ‘entitled’ or ‘complacent’. Andrew Winston, an expert in ‘Green Business Strategy’ from the United States, insists that government and corporations need to begin paying attention to the voice of youth with regard to sustainable practice, lest they wish to lose touch with the preferences of their voter base or market. ‘It may just take the youngest Americans to get companies to take a real and public stand for aggressive global action on climate change; after all, if they don’t, they risk getting out of step with an entire generation of employees and customers’, Winston writes.
It is lunch time, and after half a day of pulling plastic from one of the most beautiful landscapes on Earth, one would be forgiven for expecting the midday mood to be a little sombre. However, with the can-do attitude of our volunteer team, the atmosphere is anything but. And wouldn’t you know it, a conga line of jubilant millennials has just formed,
‘We were working up to 18 hours a day, and everyone was doing that work for free.’
commencing their coordinated, ritual lunch-time ‘rubbish dance’, much to the amusement of everyone in visual range. Moments of shared exuberance, such as this, at the daily job sites are becoming more common as the team continues to bond over their collective experience, no matter how dour the setting. ‘There was a day where a rapid cold front dropped the temperature by five degrees and the weather began to dump an insane amount of snow,’ Iain Graham, the OTF Operations Manager begins to tell me. ‘We still struggled to persuade the volunteers to stop work and return to the vehicles. When we finally convinced them [to leave the work site], they danced and sung their way back, together. Even in that moment, they were enjoying their time as a team.’
When the time comes to return to work, the thoroughness of the younger volunteers is matched only by their vigour to lead the rubbish clean-up effort from the front. Noémie and Rosie, travelling from Switzerland and England respectively, embody this example perfectly. Whenever I try to get to the front of the line, these energetic souls seem to always be in the flow of scouring the ground around them. ‘It’s impressive to see how energetic people are to clean up this place,’ Rosie tells me. ‘And I’m so glad to see that it’s not just people from New Zealand feeling as though they have to do all the work.’ Rosie makes an excellent point; aside from the Kiwis I am meeting today, I have spoken to people from Australia, North and South America, South Africa and all across Europe. The three of us move to the back of the line to empty our rubbish bags into a large sack known as a ‘fadge’, typically designed to contain up to 200 kilograms of wool, the likes of which are placed every hundred metres for rubbish collation. It is there that I witness the most impressive sight of the day. Eddie has returned, and is picking up the residual rubbish around the fadge at his own pace. At 78, and with a sore hip, I would have excused him for sitting out the rest of the day. In fact, I would have expected it after escorting him back prior to lunch. Yet here he was. If only I had Trevor Noah on speed dial.
I notice that Dan, another of my hostel room-mates, is kneeling beside some rubbish just ahead of me. A quiet figure, I had not yet had the chance to hear his story. He notices as I meander towards him. ‘Are you taking some photos today, mate?’ he asks. I explain the purpose of the article I mean to write. ‘I think people need to know the stories of those who are giving their time to be here. I think, in a way, when the citizens of New Zealand recall the efforts of this operation, the volunteers need a face.’ Dan’s face sinks a little. ‘I know exactly what you’re talking about.’
Dan, born in Canada but a resident of New Zealand, has previously suffered a physical assault which left him with chronic injuries and caused the loss of his job. Since the incident, whilst seeking new employment, he has been reliant on Central Government welfare payments to supplement his income. ‘I have felt helpless since the accident, so to be able to come here and assist the clean-up really means something to me.’ He has travelled from the Bay of Islands, by bus. ‘I know that I’m relying on government welfare, but it really hurts when I read the comments on news articles, saying that people receiving hand-outs should stop soaking up society’s money and get down here and help. Well, here I am, but no one knows, and the comments just keep on coming,’ he tells me, with tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘It’s not fair. This is my country too, and I feel the need to help. But when people say hurtful things about those down on their luck, I feel like I’ve done something wrong.’
After taking a moment, he wipes the remainder of his tears on his sleeves, and continues to pluck the plastic bags surrounding him from the ground. I consider the people working around us, and think to myself, How many stories similar to Dan’s am I walking past, but won’t be heard?
Karen, 72, and I are walking back to the row of military vehicles with our final sacks of rubbish. The clouds nearly held back their contents for the afternoon, but they have become a dim shade of grey, and a touch of light afternoon drizzle begins to fall around us. Karen, in her glowing yellow raincoat, gazes up to the heavens and, with a sigh, resigns herself to the fact that our daily mission is complete. ‘Did I tell you that I do pilates?’ she asks me, suddenly. Without waiting for an answer, she hops onto one leg and, with the utmost poise, swings the other in all manner of directions. ‘It’s been brilliant for my balance and core strength. Oh, and by the way, I’m vegan too. Ever since I stopped eating meat a few years ago, I have never felt so energetic.’ Then, with the liveliness of a youth at a folk festival, she bounds away to empty her rubbish sack in the final wool fadge, marking completion of today’s clean-up sector. As I observed her vitality for life, it occurred to me that Karen, and all the volunteers like her, would be as happy to see the next day’s work begin, just as today’s had ended. In fact, if the DOC team leaders had suddenly announced that, actually, we were required to dismount the
‘The volunteers provided that people power. No doubt they were the key to the success of the operation.’
military vehicles and keep working for a little while longer (they did not), I have no doubt that our team would have rolled up their sleeves and, without hesitation or protest, resumed tidying Fox River. But for now, it is time to return to our warm, allotted accommodation and share stories about the peculiarities of the day, which, according to routine, is likely to descend into a friendly, but fierce competition over who picked up the most bizarre item of trash.
By making an appeal to the wider community for help, DOC was able to guarantee something that they would not have otherwise obtained. The motivation on display, through a sense of shared purpose, is of a kind seldom seen in other working environments. In an era of horrific, disheartening news headlines concerning the environment, a group of likeminded yet diverse people descended upon a problem within their power to fix, and rehabilitated their own backyard. ‘Everyone’s enthusiasm was infectious. Being part of that atmosphere was amazing,’ says Jose Watson. ‘The volunteers provided that people power. No doubt they were the key to the success of the operation.’ Capturing the nation’s passion for ecology has been, as Lou Sanson tells me, a transitioning focus for DOC under his leadership. ‘It is no longer about “DOC knowing best”. We recognise that citizens of New Zealand are attributed with special knowledge and skills in caring for their environment, and harbouring this will be part of our future as a department.’
Whether this catastrophe can be attributed solely to a freak flooding incident, or a certain level of historical human negligence, I cannot say for sure. I suspect, like all things, the truth lies squarely in the middle. Opinions are divided as to why a coalition from DOC, NZDF and one hundred daily volunteers were required to convene in order to clean up after, essentially, ourselves. Although DOC took over the coordination of the clean-up, a statement has been released indicating that this will not become the future norm for similar calamities. Therefore, it is without doubt that this national disaster has given all stakeholders in the management of New Zealand’s pristine, but delicate environment a lesson to learn in proactivity and prevention. ‘I have worked on the ecologically healthy beaches of the West Coast for 10 years now; I never saw plastic wash up. Now, that area will never be the same again,’ says Iain Graham. ‘The public needs to know that they can drive the opinion of government. If everyone can make just a small change in their [waste management] behaviour, it makes a big difference for whoever is going to be doing the clean-up work in the future.’
But this story was about more than ecological lessons; it was a story of unity, and New Zealand ought to be proud of the effort displayed by the volunteers who refused to allow this environmental wound to fester. Not merely due to the scale of rehabilitation that they accomplished, although that certainly is impressive, but also because it stands as an example of how progress will only be found when our tendency to burden others with blame is outweighed by our willingness to work together. ‘When a group of New Zealanders comes together like this, it is an effort the whole country can really be proud of,’ says Lou Sanson. ‘We really want to thank everyone who was involved.’