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An All-Female Crew Sailed 1,000 Miles in a Traditional Voyaging Canoe to Help Save Humpback Whales

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Thursday, September 26, 2024

The Hinemoana Halo Waka Moana Initiative recruited 12 crew members from the Cook Islands, New Zealand, Samoa and Tonga. Tee Wells “My people are called the whale riders,” says Māori conservationist Mere Takoko. Whales not only hold cultural and spiritual significance for the Māori, the Indigenous Polynesian people of New Zealand, but they are also often seen as ancestors. “Whales symbolize strength, wisdom and resilience, and they are deeply respected as guardians of the ocean,” says Takoko. Each year in June and July, humpback whales will pass New Zealand as they migrate north from Antarctica to the warmer waters of Tonga to mate, give birth and nurse their calves. They will stay there until October before they return south. The humpback population that uses New Zealand’s waters once stood at 20,000, but whaling at the turn of the century saw it drop to a few hundred. Since New Zealand whalers harpooned their last whale in 1964, it has steadily risen to 10,000. As a keystone species, they play a large part in the ecosystem. The nutrients they release fertilize a food web. Each year in June and July, humpback whales will pass New Zealand as they migrate north from Antarctica to the warmer waters of Tonga (shown here) to mate, give birth and nurse their calves. Steve Woods Photography/Getty Images “My community would see them more regularly when I was younger,” says Takoko, a Gisborne resident who is now in her 40s. “It’s very difficult to see them now, as they don’t come as close to the coast. The migratory patterns have been changing.” In 2023, Takoko was part of a team who helped bring together an all-female Pacific crew, which would sail 1,000 miles along the humpback highway from New Zealand to Tonga to help raise awareness of the plight of the whales. Along the way, the Hinemoana Halo Waka Moana Initiative crew would collect environmental DNA (eDNA) data, namely mucus, larvae, feces or skin cells, which researchers could then use to confirm what species are present or are missing from the water. The Hinemoana Halo Waka Moana Initiative recruited 12 crew members from the Cook Islands, New Zealand, Samoa and Tonga. It included veteran sailors, such as Aunofo Havea, the first Tongan woman licensed as a sea captain, and Fealofani Bruun, the first Samoan woman to qualify as a yacht master, as well as a new generation of voyagers. The youngest crew member was 14-year-old Ana Ngamoki from the Te Whānau a Apanui iwi (tribe) in New Zealand, which partnered with the expedition. The team knew that if this marine conservation project were to be truly Indigenous, it would need to feature a waka hourua. The traditional, wooden, double-hulled ocean-going canoe typically has two sails and measures nearly 60 feet long. Polynesians have used the vessels for voyaging for thousands of years. “The voyaging canoes are the heartbeat of Polynesian culture; they are really what helped us to connect deeply with nature,” says Takoko. “From the understanding of the movement of the tides, to the stars and the winds, we can’t really talk about ocean conservation in a way that’s truly authentically Polynesian-led without including waka hourua.” While the journey’s aim was to help save the whales, it would also help heal, in some small part, one country’s voyaging history. The history of voyaging in New Zealand The first people to arrive in New Zealand are thought to have traveled from Hawaiki (Polynesia) between 1200 and 1300 C.E. They navigated the ocean by the tides, moon and stars. “They were oceanic people. The ocean is their highway—it’s not a barrier,” says Lisa Matisoo-Smith, an anthropologist at the University of Otago in New Zealand, who is not involved with the project. Early New Zealanders would make a very systematic exploration of the Pacific. Using the consistency of the trade winds, they would sail from west to east across the ocean. While voyaging was male-dominated, if better land were found, women and children would also make the journey to set up new communities. “Routes [between the new land and homeland] were maintained until the new society was established and complicated enough politically that those links weren’t useful anymore,” says Matisoo-Smith. The earliest evidence of voyaging in New Zealand is a 600-year-old waka that was found buried in Golden Bay in 2012. While it was made from native New Zealand wood, it featured an intricate carving of a turtle on the hull, reminiscent not of Māori culture, but of Polynesia. In 1769, a Finnish explorer sketched a drawing of a waka off the coast of New Zealand. Yet, Matisoo-Smith says: “There’s no evidence that they were continuing to voyage those long distances. They didn’t need to anymore. They developed their own culture; they became people from Aotearoa [a Māori-language name for New Zealand].” Takoko says: “We don’t exactly know when the practice ended [long voyaging], but we know the waka hourua was a victim of that, and colonization ensured we didn’t practice it again.” The team restored a nearly 50-foot-long waka hourua, a double-hulled ocean-going canoe, which they named Hinemoana II after the Māori goddess of the ocean. Linda Bercusson The past 15 years have brought a resurgence in voyaging in New Zealand. This was largely done thanks to Micronesians who shared what they knew about the tradition and pioneers, such as the late Hekenukumai Busby. The Māori navigator and traditional waka builder helped promote education about the vessels. People started to crew the wakas that Busby built. Around the same time, voyaging societies launched in Fiji, Samoa and Tonga. The Cook Islands Voyaging Society was established earlier, in 1992. The voyaging societies started to build wakas using ancient techniques. Voyages are now taking place to retrace ancestral routes, strengthen connections between Pacific communities, highlight environmental issues and help teach the next generation traditional navigation skills. Restoring a canoe In August 2023, one of the sailors of the all-female crew heard there was a traditional waka more than 3,000 miles away in the Marshall Islands. The vessel was in a dilapidated state, but they really didn’t have another option. If they were to build a traditional double-hulled voyaging canoe from wood, it could take up to four years to complete and cost up to $1.6 million. “It was a leap of faith,” says Takoko. It took six months for the nearly 50-foot-long waka hourua, which they named Hinemoana II after the Māori goddess of the ocean, to be shipped to New Zealand. The team sought sponsorship for the cost of the waka from individual philanthropists and companies such as Rolex. The Tonga Voyaging Society and Te Whānau a Apanui iwi in New Zealand became the canoe’s guardians. The team finally started to restore the double-hulled canoe this February. An artisan restored the whakairo (carvings) in the steering paddle, while the crew helped patch the holes in the boat and restring the catamaran-like netting. It took six months before it was seaworthy. An artisan restored the whakairo (carvings) in the steering paddle. Tee Wells Whilst they were working on the waka, Conservation International connected them to Citizens of the Sea, a charity co-founded by the Cawthron Institute. Citizens of the Sea taught the crew members how to gather eDNA for research. The crew collected the eDNA with a torpedo-shaped device that is fitted with a 20-micron nylon filter, which collects plankton, biofilm and eDNA. Each day they would need to drag it behind the waka for five minutes at a time to sample the biodiversity of the ocean. “The eDNA will be going into the bigger pool of data for the region, seeing what species are present and absent,” says Schannel van Dijken, a marine biologist and Conservation International’s marine and heritage senior director. Whales not only digest and store large quantities of carbon-rich prey, but they also exhale very little carbon dioxide back into the atmosphere. This means they can act like a carbon sink and help protect against climate change. According to the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, one whale can capture 33 tons of carbon dioxide over its lifetime. The women would need to set sail during the Southern Hemisphere’s winter if they wanted to arrive in Tonga in time for the whales’ arrival from Antarctica in July. The crew made sure they were as prepared as they could be. Those who weren’t already qualified sailors took their day skipper exams. They would help break up the monotony of studying with Tongan folk songs that helped them remember what they had learned. “It helped keep things fun, but song is the way we’ve always passed down information,” says Māori crew member Tee Wells. At the beginning of July, the crew managed to complete a four-day, 144-mile sea trial from Tauranga to Auckland. A swell hit, lifting the boat to 45 degrees and one of the experienced sailors, Wells, slipped on the deck and fractured her ribs, which meant she wouldn’t be able to join the main voyage. The waka handled the trial with ease. The only issue they had was a modern one, as the internet system they installed went down. The voyage begins As the waka departed from Auckland on the morning of July 22, Takoko offered a Māori prayer from the shoreline. “It was so beautiful. It was a leaving chant to safeguard us along the waters,” says co-captain Joelene Busby Cole from New Zealand. “I replied to her with, ‘One footstep, one heartbeat, one waka …’” Over the next ten days, the crew would follow the humpback highway from New Zealand, along the Kermadec Trench, through the Kermadec Islands to Tonga. The waters of these volcanic islands are one of the few places in the Pacific Ocean where whales, particularly humpbacks, gather. “There was huge element of uncertainty crossing the Kermadecs. It’s a big deal that they even undertook the voyage at the time of year that they did,” says Takoko. The crew worked tirelessly in shifts throughout the nights. But on some nights, the 16- to 22-foot swells crashing down on the deck meant that none of the crew got any sleep. More inexperienced members of the crew, who were yet to find their sea legs, battled seasickness in the first couple of days. Busby Cole, an accomplished sailor who was taught how to sail by her great uncle, Hekenukumai Busby, distracted the less experienced members of the crew with techniques on how to read the signs in clouds or stars, which could be used for navigation, while her co-captains steered. Some signs are spiritual, while others are practical. An albatross shows that you’re on the right track and your ancestors are along with you on the journey, Busby Cole explains. A ngoi bird would show the crew they were about 250 nautical miles off land. “At dusk, he’ll make a beeline straight for land,” she says. At every important landmark on the journey they would see a humpback whale breaching, a reminder of why they were making the trip. Alarmingly, it looked as if their journey might come to an end when their steering paddle broke toward the end of their voyage. However, the three co-captains were able to lash it together and make some rudimentary repairs at sea, which held it in place until they made it to shore. On August 1, the Hinemoana II finally arrived in Nukuʻalofa, Tonga, where a welcome party, including family, friends and people from Tonga Tourism, waited. The sailors were gifted garlands as they came ashore. For the crew from Tonga, it was a homecoming. For the other members of the group, it was a chance to create new bonds. The crew are now preparing the boat for the return journey in November, when they will capture eDNA as the whales migrate. When the waka arrives in New Zealand, it will be used as a floating classroom and research platform that will conduct citizen science, eDNA research, and species monitoring of whales and other marine mammals. And once licensed, visitors will be able to join them onboard. But this is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Pacific Islanders helping to protect the whales. Māori and Pacific leaders are calling for the whale to be given legal personhood. The data gathered from Hinemoana II will help paint a full picture of the threat to the whales. The proposal, which was put forward by the Hinemoana Halo and backed by the late Māori king Tūheitia Pōtatau Te Wherowhero VII, would give whales rights, including freedom of movement and a right to continue to enjoy their habitats free of pollution. The Māori have already shown how nature can receive personhood in law. In 2017, after a decades-long fight, the Māori gained legal personhood for New Zealand’s Whanganui River. Once the whale is identified as a person, a ship could then be penalized for maiming, hurting or killing that person. The Hinemoana II is the beginning of this vision. The aim is to use more wakas to help promote the restoration of whales as ecosystems. Takoko believes that if they can help save the whales, the whales could then help save the island communities. “As Indigenous people who are most vulnerable to climatic changes, no one is coming to save us,” says Takoko. “We have to come up with our own ways of being able to adapt to these huge changes that are going to [impact] our communities. Our survival is at stake.” Get the latest Travel & Culture stories in your inbox.

The team traveled from New Zealand to Tonga along a humpback highway to collect environmental DNA and raise awareness of the plight of the marine mammals

crew of Hinemoana II
The Hinemoana Halo Waka Moana Initiative recruited 12 crew members from the Cook Islands, New Zealand, Samoa and Tonga. Tee Wells

“My people are called the whale riders,” says Māori conservationist Mere Takoko.

Whales not only hold cultural and spiritual significance for the Māori, the Indigenous Polynesian people of New Zealand, but they are also often seen as ancestors. “Whales symbolize strength, wisdom and resilience, and they are deeply respected as guardians of the ocean,” says Takoko.

Each year in June and July, humpback whales will pass New Zealand as they migrate north from Antarctica to the warmer waters of Tonga to mate, give birth and nurse their calves. They will stay there until October before they return south.

The humpback population that uses New Zealand’s waters once stood at 20,000, but whaling at the turn of the century saw it drop to a few hundred. Since New Zealand whalers harpooned their last whale in 1964, it has steadily risen to 10,000. As a keystone species, they play a large part in the ecosystem. The nutrients they release fertilize a food web.

A humpback whale and its calf in the waters of Tonga
Each year in June and July, humpback whales will pass New Zealand as they migrate north from Antarctica to the warmer waters of Tonga (shown here) to mate, give birth and nurse their calves. Steve Woods Photography/Getty Images

“My community would see them more regularly when I was younger,” says Takoko, a Gisborne resident who is now in her 40s. “It’s very difficult to see them now, as they don’t come as close to the coast. The migratory patterns have been changing.”

In 2023, Takoko was part of a team who helped bring together an all-female Pacific crew, which would sail 1,000 miles along the humpback highway from New Zealand to Tonga to help raise awareness of the plight of the whales. Along the way, the Hinemoana Halo Waka Moana Initiative crew would collect environmental DNA (eDNA) data, namely mucus, larvae, feces or skin cells, which researchers could then use to confirm what species are present or are missing from the water.

The Hinemoana Halo Waka Moana Initiative recruited 12 crew members from the Cook Islands, New Zealand, Samoa and Tonga. It included veteran sailors, such as Aunofo Havea, the first Tongan woman licensed as a sea captain, and Fealofani Bruun, the first Samoan woman to qualify as a yacht master, as well as a new generation of voyagers. The youngest crew member was 14-year-old Ana Ngamoki from the Te Whānau a Apanui iwi (tribe) in New Zealand, which partnered with the expedition.

The team knew that if this marine conservation project were to be truly Indigenous, it would need to feature a waka hourua. The traditional, wooden, double-hulled ocean-going canoe typically has two sails and measures nearly 60 feet long. Polynesians have used the vessels for voyaging for thousands of years.

“The voyaging canoes are the heartbeat of Polynesian culture; they are really what helped us to connect deeply with nature,” says Takoko. “From the understanding of the movement of the tides, to the stars and the winds, we can’t really talk about ocean conservation in a way that’s truly authentically Polynesian-led without including waka hourua.”

While the journey’s aim was to help save the whales, it would also help heal, in some small part, one country’s voyaging history.

The history of voyaging in New Zealand

The first people to arrive in New Zealand are thought to have traveled from Hawaiki (Polynesia) between 1200 and 1300 C.E. They navigated the ocean by the tides, moon and stars.

“They were oceanic people. The ocean is their highway—it’s not a barrier,” says Lisa Matisoo-Smith, an anthropologist at the University of Otago in New Zealand, who is not involved with the project.

Early New Zealanders would make a very systematic exploration of the Pacific. Using the consistency of the trade winds, they would sail from west to east across the ocean. While voyaging was male-dominated, if better land were found, women and children would also make the journey to set up new communities. “Routes [between the new land and homeland] were maintained until the new society was established and complicated enough politically that those links weren’t useful anymore,” says Matisoo-Smith.

The earliest evidence of voyaging in New Zealand is a 600-year-old waka that was found buried in Golden Bay in 2012. While it was made from native New Zealand wood, it featured an intricate carving of a turtle on the hull, reminiscent not of Māori culture, but of Polynesia.

In 1769, a Finnish explorer sketched a drawing of a waka off the coast of New Zealand. Yet, Matisoo-Smith says: “There’s no evidence that they were continuing to voyage those long distances. They didn’t need to anymore. They developed their own culture; they became people from Aotearoa [a Māori-language name for New Zealand].”

Takoko says: “We don’t exactly know when the practice ended [long voyaging], but we know the waka hourua was a victim of that, and colonization ensured we didn’t practice it again.”

waka hourua
The team restored a nearly 50-foot-long waka hourua, a double-hulled ocean-going canoe, which they named Hinemoana II after the Māori goddess of the ocean. Linda Bercusson

The past 15 years have brought a resurgence in voyaging in New Zealand. This was largely done thanks to Micronesians who shared what they knew about the tradition and pioneers, such as the late Hekenukumai Busby. The Māori navigator and traditional waka builder helped promote education about the vessels. People started to crew the wakas that Busby built.

Around the same time, voyaging societies launched in Fiji, Samoa and Tonga. The Cook Islands Voyaging Society was established earlier, in 1992. The voyaging societies started to build wakas using ancient techniques. Voyages are now taking place to retrace ancestral routes, strengthen connections between Pacific communities, highlight environmental issues and help teach the next generation traditional navigation skills.

Restoring a canoe

In August 2023, one of the sailors of the all-female crew heard there was a traditional waka more than 3,000 miles away in the Marshall Islands. The vessel was in a dilapidated state, but they really didn’t have another option. If they were to build a traditional double-hulled voyaging canoe from wood, it could take up to four years to complete and cost up to $1.6 million.

“It was a leap of faith,” says Takoko.

It took six months for the nearly 50-foot-long waka hourua, which they named Hinemoana II after the Māori goddess of the ocean, to be shipped to New Zealand. The team sought sponsorship for the cost of the waka from individual philanthropists and companies such as Rolex. The Tonga Voyaging Society and Te Whānau a Apanui iwi in New Zealand became the canoe’s guardians.

The team finally started to restore the double-hulled canoe this February. An artisan restored the whakairo (carvings) in the steering paddle, while the crew helped patch the holes in the boat and restring the catamaran-like netting. It took six months before it was seaworthy.

carvings on the steering paddle
An artisan restored the whakairo (carvings) in the steering paddle. Tee Wells

Whilst they were working on the waka, Conservation International connected them to Citizens of the Sea, a charity co-founded by the Cawthron Institute. Citizens of the Sea taught the crew members how to gather eDNA for research. The crew collected the eDNA with a torpedo-shaped device that is fitted with a 20-micron nylon filter, which collects plankton, biofilm and eDNA. Each day they would need to drag it behind the waka for five minutes at a time to sample the biodiversity of the ocean.

“The eDNA will be going into the bigger pool of data for the region, seeing what species are present and absent,” says Schannel van Dijken, a marine biologist and Conservation International’s marine and heritage senior director.

Whales not only digest and store large quantities of carbon-rich prey, but they also exhale very little carbon dioxide back into the atmosphere. This means they can act like a carbon sink and help protect against climate change. According to the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, one whale can capture 33 tons of carbon dioxide over its lifetime.

The women would need to set sail during the Southern Hemisphere’s winter if they wanted to arrive in Tonga in time for the whales’ arrival from Antarctica in July. The crew made sure they were as prepared as they could be. Those who weren’t already qualified sailors took their day skipper exams. They would help break up the monotony of studying with Tongan folk songs that helped them remember what they had learned.

“It helped keep things fun, but song is the way we’ve always passed down information,” says Māori crew member Tee Wells.

At the beginning of July, the crew managed to complete a four-day, 144-mile sea trial from Tauranga to Auckland. A swell hit, lifting the boat to 45 degrees and one of the experienced sailors, Wells, slipped on the deck and fractured her ribs, which meant she wouldn’t be able to join the main voyage. The waka handled the trial with ease. The only issue they had was a modern one, as the internet system they installed went down.

The voyage begins

As the waka departed from Auckland on the morning of July 22, Takoko offered a Māori prayer from the shoreline. “It was so beautiful. It was a leaving chant to safeguard us along the waters,” says co-captain Joelene Busby Cole from New Zealand. “I replied to her with, ‘One footstep, one heartbeat, one waka …’”

Over the next ten days, the crew would follow the humpback highway from New Zealand, along the Kermadec Trench, through the Kermadec Islands to Tonga. The waters of these volcanic islands are one of the few places in the Pacific Ocean where whales, particularly humpbacks, gather.

“There was huge element of uncertainty crossing the Kermadecs. It’s a big deal that they even undertook the voyage at the time of year that they did,” says Takoko.

The crew worked tirelessly in shifts throughout the nights. But on some nights, the 16- to 22-foot swells crashing down on the deck meant that none of the crew got any sleep.

More inexperienced members of the crew, who were yet to find their sea legs, battled seasickness in the first couple of days. Busby Cole, an accomplished sailor who was taught how to sail by her great uncle, Hekenukumai Busby, distracted the less experienced members of the crew with techniques on how to read the signs in clouds or stars, which could be used for navigation, while her co-captains steered.

Some signs are spiritual, while others are practical. An albatross shows that you’re on the right track and your ancestors are along with you on the journey, Busby Cole explains. A ngoi bird would show the crew they were about 250 nautical miles off land. “At dusk, he’ll make a beeline straight for land,” she says.

At every important landmark on the journey they would see a humpback whale breaching, a reminder of why they were making the trip.

Alarmingly, it looked as if their journey might come to an end when their steering paddle broke toward the end of their voyage. However, the three co-captains were able to lash it together and make some rudimentary repairs at sea, which held it in place until they made it to shore.

On August 1, the Hinemoana II finally arrived in Nukuʻalofa, Tonga, where a welcome party, including family, friends and people from Tonga Tourism, waited. The sailors were gifted garlands as they came ashore.

For the crew from Tonga, it was a homecoming. For the other members of the group, it was a chance to create new bonds. The crew are now preparing the boat for the return journey in November, when they will capture eDNA as the whales migrate. When the waka arrives in New Zealand, it will be used as a floating classroom and research platform that will conduct citizen science, eDNA research, and species monitoring of whales and other marine mammals. And once licensed, visitors will be able to join them onboard.

But this is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Pacific Islanders helping to protect the whales. Māori and Pacific leaders are calling for the whale to be given legal personhood. The data gathered from Hinemoana II will help paint a full picture of the threat to the whales. The proposal, which was put forward by the Hinemoana Halo and backed by the late Māori king Tūheitia Pōtatau Te Wherowhero VII, would give whales rights, including freedom of movement and a right to continue to enjoy their habitats free of pollution. The Māori have already shown how nature can receive personhood in law. In 2017, after a decades-long fight, the Māori gained legal personhood for New Zealand’s Whanganui River.

Once the whale is identified as a person, a ship could then be penalized for maiming, hurting or killing that person.

The Hinemoana II is the beginning of this vision. The aim is to use more wakas to help promote the restoration of whales as ecosystems. Takoko believes that if they can help save the whales, the whales could then help save the island communities.

“As Indigenous people who are most vulnerable to climatic changes, no one is coming to save us,” says Takoko. “We have to come up with our own ways of being able to adapt to these huge changes that are going to [impact] our communities. Our survival is at stake.”

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Prince William to attend Cop30 UN climate summit in Brazil

Prince of Wales’s decision welcomed as a means of drawing attention to the event and galvanising talksThe Prince of Wales will attend the crunch Cop30 UN climate summit in Brazil next month, the Guardian has learned, but whether the prime minister will go is still to be decided.Prince William will present the Earthshot prize, a global environmental award and attend the meeting of representatives of more than 190 governments in Belém. Continue reading...

The Prince of Wales will attend the crunch Cop30 UN climate summit in Brazil next month, the Guardian has learned, but whether the prime minister will go is still to be decided.Prince William will present the Earthshot prize, a global environmental award and attend the meeting of representatives of more than 190 governments in Belém.Environmental experts welcomed the prince’s attendance. Solitaire Townsend, the co-founder of the Futerra consultancy, said it would lift what is likely to be a difficult summit, at which the world must agree fresh targets on reducing greenhouse gas emissions.“Is Prince William attending Cop a stunt? Yes. But that doesn’t mean it’s a bad idea,” she said. “Cop has long been as much about so-called ‘optics’ as it is negotiations. Prince William’s announcement will likely encourage other leaders to commit, and will have the global media sitting up to attention.“I suspect HRH knows very well that by showing up, he’ll drag millions of eyes to the event. In an era when climate impacts are growing, but media coverage dropping, anything that draws attention should be celebrated.”King Charles has attended previous Cops, but will not be going to this one.skip past newsletter promotionThe planet's most important stories. Get all the week's environment news - the good, the bad and the essentialPrivacy Notice: Newsletters may contain information about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. If you do not have an account, we will create a guest account for you on theguardian.com to send you this newsletter. You can complete full registration at any time. For more information about how we use your data see our Privacy Policy. We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.after newsletter promotionGareth Redmond-King of the Energy & Climate Intelligence Unit, an environmental thinktank, said: “All hands on deck – and any prominent, high-profile individual like the Prince of Wales, there helping make the case for the difficult job that needs doing, is almost certainly a good thing.“[King Charles] was the Prince of Wales when he went to Cop26 [in Glasgow in 2021] and pitched in to help galvanise talks. I don’t think it necessarily needs both of them to go.”The British prime minister, Keir Starmer, has not yet said whether he will attend the summit, to which all world leaders are invited, with scores already confirmed. He was heavily criticised by leading environmental voices, including the former UN secretary general Ban Ki-moon and the former Irish president Mary Robinson, for appearing to waver on the decision earlier this month.Ban said: “World leaders must be in Belém for Cop30. Attendance is not a courtesy, it is a test of leadership. This is the moment to lock in stronger national commitments and the finance to deliver them, especially for adaptation” to the effects of the climate crisis.“The world is watching, and history will remember who showed up.”

Scientists Suspect Fracking Contaminated This Pennsylvania Town’s Wells

This story was originally published by Inside Climate News and is reproduced here as part of the Climate Desk collaboration. In the summer of 2022, John Stolz got a phone call asking for his help. This request—one of many the Duquesne University professor has fielded—came from the Center for Coalfield Justice, an environmental nonprofit in […]

This story was originally published by Inside Climate News and is reproduced here as part of the Climate Desk collaboration. In the summer of 2022, John Stolz got a phone call asking for his help. This request—one of many the Duquesne University professor has fielded—came from the Center for Coalfield Justice, an environmental nonprofit in southwestern Pennsylvania.  They told him about New Freeport, a small town in Pennsylvania’s Greene County that had experienced what’s called a “frac-out,” when drilling fluids used in the fracking process escape their intended path and end up at the surface or elsewhere underground, in this case via an abandoned gas well nearby. Residents had noticed strange odors and discoloration in their well water. Their pets were refusing to drink it. Now they wondered if it was unsafe.  Stolz, who has been testing water for signs of pollution from fracking for more than 10 years, agreed to find out. The testing that he and his colleagues carried out over the next two years shows that residents were right to be concerned. They found evidence for oil and gas contamination in a larger geographic area than was initially reported, according to a study published last month. Of the 75 samples tested, 71 percent contained methane.  “We found significant contamination,” Stolz said. “Essentially half of the people in our study had bad water.” Two of the wells registered “explosive levels of methane,” he said. “The homeowners had no clue it was that bad.”  Sarah Martik, the executive director at the Center for Coalfield Justice, said she was grateful for Stolz’s work. “Dr. Stolz has been one of the only people in our area that we can count on to come provide free water tests,” she said. Stolz said the more people heard about the study, the bigger it got. “It started essentially on Main Street, where that initial report came in,” he said. “But I gave a couple of presentations down there with our preliminary results, and it grew, and people started calling and saying, ‘Would you test my water?’” Guy Hostutler, the chairman of the Board of Supervisors in Freeport Township, where New Freeport is located, said at least 22 households there rely on holding tanks called water buffaloes right now because of contamination, and others are using five-gallon jugs brought in by the Center for Coalfield Justice. Some people have installed filter systems.  In addition to the pollution issues, some New Freeport residents have also recently noticed their wells are drying up.  In 2024, residents filed a class-action lawsuit against fracking company EQT, the owner of the well pad that is the alleged source of the frac-out. “I am hopeful that this publication is going to lend a lot of credibility to that fight,” Martik said. “This study is really a validation of what people already know. They have this thing that they’re able to point to now and say, ‘Hey, EQT, this did happen, and I have been impacted.’”  EQT has maintained that it bears no responsibility for the contamination. The company did not respond to a request for comment. When the Pennsylvania Department of Environmental Protection tested wells in New Freeport, the agency found that the water was not safe for human consumption but did not find a link to oil and gas drilling, according to spokesman Neil Shader.  “If you suspect that there’s ever going to be any drilling, get your water tested,” so you’ll have a baseline for comparison. Stolz said he thought DEP had not “fully utilized the data they have” to make a determination on the source of the contamination, which is complicated by the fact that an abandoned conventional gas well was involved. “You have to look at the broader picture and the timeline of events,” he said. “It’s very clear that things changed after the frac-out.” DEP is now investigating more recent complaints in the area that water sources have been contaminated by oil and gas. New Freeport is not the only town in Pennsylvania to find its water contaminated after oil and gas drilling took place nearby. Its story mirrors that of Dimock, a community in the northeastern part of the state that has been without clean water for more than a decade. Dimock made headlines around the world after residents were filmed setting fire to their water. They’re still waiting for a promised public water line.  Groundwater contamination poses particularly acute public health dangers in Pennsylvania, where more than 25 percent of adults use private wells as their primary source for drinking water, 10 percentage points higher than the national average.  And the water in those private water wells—serving more than 3 million people—is rarely tested, according to Penn State University’s Drinking Water program. “You’re looking at community after community across the state and in the tri-state region losing their water. What we’re trying to call attention to is these things happen, and somebody has to be accountable,” Stolz said.  Daniel Bain, a co-author of the study and a professor at the University of Pittsburgh, said companies’ denial of responsibility for contamination becomes increasingly difficult to swallow as the number of incidents rises. “They start to lose credibility. When they say there’s no problem, then you’re like, ‘Well, who do I trust? Do I trust my water ever again?’” he said. Frac-outs are relatively rare, but Pennsylvania’s hundreds of thousands of abandoned and orphaned oil and gas wells make them more probable. These wells are not easily detectable, their locations are often unknown and they’re estimated to be more numerous here than in any other state.  DEP recorded 54 “communication” incidents, as frac-outs are called, between 2016 and 2024.  The Freeport township supervisors have one piece of advice for others who live near fracking. “If you suspect that there’s ever going to be any drilling, get your water tested,” said Tim Brady, the vice-chairman.  Residents can contact Penn State’s Agricultural Analytical Services Laboratory to get testing for oil and gas contaminants, which costs $75. “Pay the money to have the test done so you have it in hand,” Brady said. “It helps not only you, but it would also help your local government. Seventy-five dollars is worth its weight in gold whenever it comes to fighting a battle like this.”   With baseline test results, investigators can more easily pinpoint the source of the contamination, allowing them to distinguish between fracking pollution and other sources, like old coal mines and abandoned oil and gas wells.   Stolz and Bain’s approach relies on “the preponderance of evidence” to separate fracking contamination from legacy pollution caused by other fossil fuel extraction. The results in this paper present “compelling evidence that the frac-out profoundly changed local well water chemistry even without sample data prior to the event for comparison,” according to the authors. Bain said the unpredictable nature of frac-outs means their impacts are more likely to evade regulatory scrutiny. According to state law, contamination within 2,500 feet of a fracking well is presumed to be caused by that drilling. But there is no such “zone of presumption” for frac-outs.  “If it were around a well, it would be 2,500 feet. But because it’s around a frac-out, it’s zero feet, and there’s no responsibility whatsoever,” Bain said. Just last month, Freeport Township declared a disaster emergency, stating that the frac-out had “endangered or will endanger the health, safety and welfare of a substantial number of persons residing in Freeport Township.” Local officials are working to resolve the crisis on several fronts: opening a new investigation with DEP over the water quantity issues, raising money to build a public water line and talking to state and federal officials about what options they have for funding.  “We’re doing everything in our power,” Hostutler said. “We’re going to fight as long as we can.” Hostutler said a few people have moved away in the three years since the frac-out happened, and others are trying to sell their houses. A water buffalo costs $3,000 a month, an expense many residents cannot afford. He worries about what will happen over the long term to the community, which he describes as a close-knit little village where everyone knows each other and looks out for one another.  “We’ve lost a lot of residents over the years. And we want to keep what we have,” Brady said. “It’s not going to be easy, but you just take a look at all the towns around here that’s lost water. They’re nonexistent anymore. We don’t want to end up like that. If you don’t have water, you don’t have anything.”

Has Your Scientific Work Been Cut? We Want to Hear.

For a new series, Times journalists are speaking with scientists whose research has ended as a result of policy changes by the Trump administration.

By most metrics, 2025 has been the worst year for the American scientific enterprise in modern history.Since January, the Trump administration has made deep cuts to the nation’s science funding, including more than $1 billion in grants to the National Science Foundation, which sponsors much of the basic research at universities and federal laboratories, and $4.5 billion to the National Institutes of Health. Thousands of jobs for scientists and staff members have been terminated or frozen at these and other federal agencies, including the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the Environmental Protection Agency, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration and the National Park Service.To thousands of researchers — veteran scientists and new grad students, at state universities and Ivy League institutions alike — these sweeping reductions translate as direct personal losses: a layoff, a shuttered lab, a yearslong experiment or field study abruptly ended, graduate students turned away; lost knowledge, lost progress, lost investment, lost stability; dreams deferred or foreclosed.“This government upheaval is discouraging to all scientists who give their time and lend their brilliance to solve the problems beleaguering humankind instead of turning to some other activity that makes a more steady living,” Gina Poe, a neuroscientist at the University of California, Los Angeles, wrote in an email.Next year looks to be worse. The 2026 budget proposed by the White House would slash the National Science Foundation by 56.9 percent, the N.I.H. by 39.3 percent and NASA by 24.3 percent, including 47.3 percent of the agency’s science-research budget. It would entirely eliminate the U.S. Geological Survey’s $299 million budget for ecosystems research; all U.S. Forest Service research ($300 million) and, at NOAA’s Office of Oceanic and Atmospheric Research, all funding ($625 million) for research on climate, habitat conservation and air chemistry and for studying ocean, coastal and Great Lakes environments. The Trump administration has also proposed shutting down NASA and NOAA satellites that researchers and governments around the world rely on for forecasting weather and natural disasters.

Tour operator Intrepid drops carbon offsets and emissions targets

Firm will instead invest A$2m a year in ‘climate impact fund’ supporting renewables and switching to EVsOne of the travel industry’s most environmentally focused tour operators, Intrepid, is scrapping carbon offsets and abandoning its emissions targets as unreachable.The Australian-headquartered global travel company said it will instead invest A$2m a year in an audited “climate impact fund” supporting immediate practical measures such as switching to electric vehicles and investing in renewable energy. Continue reading...

One of the travel industry’s most environmentally focused tour operators, Intrepid, is scrapping carbon offsets and abandoning its emissions targets as unreachable.The Australian-headquartered global travel company said it will instead invest A$2m a year in an audited “climate impact fund” supporting immediate practical measures such as switching to electric vehicles and investing in renewable energy.Intrepid, which specialises in small group tours, said it was stopping carbon offsets and “stepping away” from the Science Based Targets initiative (SBTi), after having committed to 2030 goals monitored by the climate-certification organisation five years ago.In an open letter to staff, the Intrepid co-founder and chair, Darrell Wade, and the chief executive, James Thornton, told staff: “Intrepid, and frankly the entire travel industry, is not on track to achieve a 1.5C future, and more urgent action is required if we are to get even close.”While Intrepid’s brand focuses on the low impact of its group tours, it has long conceded that its bigger footprint is the flights its customers take to reach them, with Wade also admitting two years ago that its offsets were “not credible”.The letter blamed governments that “failed to act on ambitious policies on renewable energy or sustainable aviation fuels that support the scale of change that is required”, adding: “We are not comfortable maintaining a target that we know we won’t meet.”Thornton said the change should build trust through transparency rather than losing customers by admitting its climate pledges had not worked. He told the Guardian: “We were the first global tour operator to adopt a science-based target through the SBTi and now we’re owning the fact that it’s not working for us. We’ve always been real and transparent, which is how we build trust.”He said the fund and a new target to cut the “carbon intensity” of each trip had been developed by climate scientists and would be verified by independent auditors.Part of that attempt would be to reduce the number of long-haul flights taken by customers, Thornton said, by prioritising domestic and short-haul trips, and offering more flight-free itineraries and walking or trekking tours.Environmental campaigners have long dismissed offsets and focused on cutting flying. Dr Douglas Parr, the Greenpeace UK chief scientist, said offsetting schemes had allowed “airlines and other big polluters to falsely claim green credentials while continuing to pump out emissions”.He said Greenpeace backed a frequent flyer levy, with a first flight each year tax-free to avoid taxing an annual family holiday but rising steeply with subsequent flights to deter “the binge flyers who are the main engine of growth for UK flights”.Intrepid’s Thornton said he saw “first-hand how important meaningful climate action is to our founders and owners, who see it as part of their legacy”, but added: “We need to be honest with ourselves that travel is not sustainable in its current format and anything suggesting otherwise is greenwashing.”

Trump’s coal bailout won’t solve the data center power crunch

The Trump administration is spending more than half a billion dollars to help prop up the dying coal industry. It’s also weakening pollution regulations and opening up more federal land to coal mining. All of this isn’t likely to save the industry—and also isn’t likely to do much to meet the surging demand for power from data centers for AI. Coal power is expensive, and that isn’t going to change Aging coal power plants are now so expensive to run that hundreds have retired over the last decade, including around 100 that retired or made plans to retire during Trump’s first term. Offering relatively small subsidies isn’t likely to change the long-term trend. “I don’t think it’s going to change the underlying economics,” says Michelle Solomon, a manager in the electricity program at the think tank Energy Innovation. “The reasons why coal has increased in cost will continue to be fundamentally true.” The cost of coal power grew 28% between 2021 and 2024, or more than double the rate of inflation. One reason is age: the average coal power plant in the U.S. is around 50 years old, and they aren’t designed to last much longer. Because renewable energy is cheaper, and regulation is likely to ramp up in the future, investors don’t see building new coal power plants as viable. But trying to keep outdated plants running also doesn’t make economic sense. The new funding can’t go very far. The Department of Energy plans to spend $625 million on coal projects, including $350 million to recommission and retrofit old plants. Another $25 million is set aside for retrofitting coal plants with natural gas co-firing systems. But that type of project can cost hundreds of millions or even a billion dollars for a single plant. (The $25 million, presumably, might only cover planning or a small pilot.) Other retrofits might only extend the life of a power plant by a few years. Because the plants will continue to be expensive to run, some power plant owners may not think the subsidies are worth it. Utilities want to move on If coal power plants keep running past their retirement age, even with some retrofits, costs keep going up for consumers. “That’s something that you really see in states that continue to rely on coal for a big part of their electricity mix,” says Solomon. “Like Kentucky and West Virginia, who have had their cost for power increase at some of the fastest rates in the country.” In Michigan, earlier this year, the DOE forced a coal power plant to stay open after it was scheduled to retire. The DOE cited an “emergency,” though neither the grid operator nor the utility said that there were power supply issues; the planned retirement of the plant included building new sources of energy to replace it. The utility reported to the SEC that within the first 38 days, alone, it spent $29 million to keep the plant running. (The emergency order is still in place, and being challenged by multiple lawsuits.) The extra expense shows up on consumers’ bills. One report estimates that by 2028, efforts to keep large power plants from retiring could cost consumers more than $3 billion a year. Utilities have long acknowledged the reality that there are less expensive energy sources. In the first Trump administration, in 2018, utilities resisted Trump’s attempts to use emergency powers to keep uneconomic coal plants open. When utilities plan to retire a power plant, there’s a long planning process. Plants begin making decision to defer maintenance that would otherwise be necessary. And many won’t want to reverse their decisions. It’s true that demand for power from data centers has led some utilities to keep coal plants online longer—and electric bills are already soaring in areas near large data centers. But Trump’s incentives may not make much difference for others. The last coal plant in New England just shut down years early, despite the current outlook for data centers. “Utilities do have to take a long-term view,” says Lori Bird, director of the U.S. energy program at the nonprofit World Resources Institute. “They’re doing multi-year planning. So they consider the durability and economic viability of these assets over the longer term. They have not been economic, and they’re also the highest-emitting greenhouse gas facilities.” Even if the Trump administration has rolled back environmental regulations, she says, future administrations could reverse that; continuing to use coal is a risky proposition. In most states, utilities also have to comply with renewable power goals. There are better solutions It’s true that the U.S. needs more power generation, quickly. It’s not clear exactly how much new electricity will be needed—some of that will depend on how much AI is a bubble and how much tech companies can shrink their power usage at data centers. But the nonprofit Rewiring America calculated that data centers that are under construction or in planning could add 93 gigawatts of electricity demand to the U.S. grid by the end of the decade. The nonprofit argues that some or even all of that new capacity could be covered by rooftop solar and batteries at homes. Cheap utility-scale renewable power plants could obviously also help, though the Trump administration is actively fighting them. Battery storage can help provide 24/7 energy. One analysis of a retiring coal plant in Maryland found that it would be less expensive to replace it with batteries and transmission upgrades than to keep it running. Temporarily saving a handful of coal power plants won’t cover the new power needs. It would add to air pollution, water pollution, and climate pollution. And it would significantly push up power bills when consumers are already struggling. Real support for an “energy emergency” would include faster permitting and other work to accelerate building affordable renewable energy, experts say. “Making sure that resources can compete openly is really important,” says Solomon. “It’s important to not only meet the demand from AI, but make sure that it doesn’t raise costs for electricity consumers.”

The Trump administration is spending more than half a billion dollars to help prop up the dying coal industry. It’s also weakening pollution regulations and opening up more federal land to coal mining. All of this isn’t likely to save the industry—and also isn’t likely to do much to meet the surging demand for power from data centers for AI. Coal power is expensive, and that isn’t going to change Aging coal power plants are now so expensive to run that hundreds have retired over the last decade, including around 100 that retired or made plans to retire during Trump’s first term. Offering relatively small subsidies isn’t likely to change the long-term trend. “I don’t think it’s going to change the underlying economics,” says Michelle Solomon, a manager in the electricity program at the think tank Energy Innovation. “The reasons why coal has increased in cost will continue to be fundamentally true.” The cost of coal power grew 28% between 2021 and 2024, or more than double the rate of inflation. One reason is age: the average coal power plant in the U.S. is around 50 years old, and they aren’t designed to last much longer. Because renewable energy is cheaper, and regulation is likely to ramp up in the future, investors don’t see building new coal power plants as viable. But trying to keep outdated plants running also doesn’t make economic sense. The new funding can’t go very far. The Department of Energy plans to spend $625 million on coal projects, including $350 million to recommission and retrofit old plants. Another $25 million is set aside for retrofitting coal plants with natural gas co-firing systems. But that type of project can cost hundreds of millions or even a billion dollars for a single plant. (The $25 million, presumably, might only cover planning or a small pilot.) Other retrofits might only extend the life of a power plant by a few years. Because the plants will continue to be expensive to run, some power plant owners may not think the subsidies are worth it. Utilities want to move on If coal power plants keep running past their retirement age, even with some retrofits, costs keep going up for consumers. “That’s something that you really see in states that continue to rely on coal for a big part of their electricity mix,” says Solomon. “Like Kentucky and West Virginia, who have had their cost for power increase at some of the fastest rates in the country.” In Michigan, earlier this year, the DOE forced a coal power plant to stay open after it was scheduled to retire. The DOE cited an “emergency,” though neither the grid operator nor the utility said that there were power supply issues; the planned retirement of the plant included building new sources of energy to replace it. The utility reported to the SEC that within the first 38 days, alone, it spent $29 million to keep the plant running. (The emergency order is still in place, and being challenged by multiple lawsuits.) The extra expense shows up on consumers’ bills. One report estimates that by 2028, efforts to keep large power plants from retiring could cost consumers more than $3 billion a year. Utilities have long acknowledged the reality that there are less expensive energy sources. In the first Trump administration, in 2018, utilities resisted Trump’s attempts to use emergency powers to keep uneconomic coal plants open. When utilities plan to retire a power plant, there’s a long planning process. Plants begin making decision to defer maintenance that would otherwise be necessary. And many won’t want to reverse their decisions. It’s true that demand for power from data centers has led some utilities to keep coal plants online longer—and electric bills are already soaring in areas near large data centers. But Trump’s incentives may not make much difference for others. The last coal plant in New England just shut down years early, despite the current outlook for data centers. “Utilities do have to take a long-term view,” says Lori Bird, director of the U.S. energy program at the nonprofit World Resources Institute. “They’re doing multi-year planning. So they consider the durability and economic viability of these assets over the longer term. They have not been economic, and they’re also the highest-emitting greenhouse gas facilities.” Even if the Trump administration has rolled back environmental regulations, she says, future administrations could reverse that; continuing to use coal is a risky proposition. In most states, utilities also have to comply with renewable power goals. There are better solutions It’s true that the U.S. needs more power generation, quickly. It’s not clear exactly how much new electricity will be needed—some of that will depend on how much AI is a bubble and how much tech companies can shrink their power usage at data centers. But the nonprofit Rewiring America calculated that data centers that are under construction or in planning could add 93 gigawatts of electricity demand to the U.S. grid by the end of the decade. The nonprofit argues that some or even all of that new capacity could be covered by rooftop solar and batteries at homes. Cheap utility-scale renewable power plants could obviously also help, though the Trump administration is actively fighting them. Battery storage can help provide 24/7 energy. One analysis of a retiring coal plant in Maryland found that it would be less expensive to replace it with batteries and transmission upgrades than to keep it running. Temporarily saving a handful of coal power plants won’t cover the new power needs. It would add to air pollution, water pollution, and climate pollution. And it would significantly push up power bills when consumers are already struggling. Real support for an “energy emergency” would include faster permitting and other work to accelerate building affordable renewable energy, experts say. “Making sure that resources can compete openly is really important,” says Solomon. “It’s important to not only meet the demand from AI, but make sure that it doesn’t raise costs for electricity consumers.”

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