The Next Eco-Warriors (16 page)

Boarding one of the most radical marine conservation ships in the world, we started a two-week trip south to Costa Rica. Costa Rica's Cocos Island is home to some of the greatest concentrations of sharks in the world. Without the ability to effectively protect their waters from foreign poaching, Costa Rica's president had asked for Sea Shepherd's help. Twelve days into
our journey, in Guatemalan waters, we came across our first illegal sharkfishing boat.

It was called the
Varadero
, a Costa Rican longliner, pulling in sharks and cutting off their fins, which is illegal in Guatemala. Sea Shepherd contacted the Guatemalan authorities, who then asked Sea Shepherd to bring the boat into port for arrest. As much as Sea Shepherd was known for being radicals, in this moment we were working within the law.

Captain Watson hailed the pirate boat on our radio and ordered them to stop. He informed them that they were illegally fishing and ordered them to release the sharks on their lines. I ran out on deck and began filming as the fishermen ignored Watson's demands and continued killing sharks.

Racing the
Ocean Warrior
ahead, Sea Shepherd tried to intercept the lines and free the sharks. The
Ocean Warrior
was a much bigger and faster ship, but the
Varadero
darted ahead and seemed always to have another longline to pull in. Disabling them was the next tactic. Using a high-pressure water cannon, Sea Shepherd attempted to spray their boat to try to flood their engines.

Doggedly pursuing them with the water cannon on full blast, Sea Shepherd's translator kept repeating over the radio in Spanish, “You are illegally fishing in these waters. Guatemalan authorities have ordered you to stop.” This had no effect, and the chase went on for hours. But just then, almost in a flash, I heard lots of commotion and screaming, and then: “We're going to hit!”

I grabbed a railing with one hand and filmed with the other as we collided with the pirate fishing boat. Then it was a shudder to the side of the ship and a loud thud as the boats crashed into one another. Finally, the
Varadero
agreed to follow us into port to meet the Guatemalan authorities.

Halfway to Guatemala, Watson heard from the authorities that they were on the way to arrest both the
Varadero
and the
Ocean Warrior
. They asked us to stay put until they arrived, at which point we would be escorted back to shore to meet with the authorities.

I couldn't believe it. We were in trouble for enforcing their laws. Figuring some strings had been pulled, and not wanting to risk time in prison, Watson
made the only decision he could in order to not compromise the entire mission. We ditched the
Varadero
and hightailed it to international waters, onward to Costa Rica.

Arriving in Costa Rica, the situation was not any better. We were charged with seven counts of attempted murder. The Costa Rican Coast Guard boarded the ship to search for evidence and told us we were going to be thrown in jail for trying to kill the fishermen aboard the
Varadero
. It was crazy. We were confined to port under house arrest and couldn't move, despite the forty-three testimonials and footage from three video cameras. The trials lasted weeks, with each case being thrown out with our overwhelming evidence and immediately reinstated with a new judge and prosecutor. Almost daily, the court sent prosecutors and judges to our boat to interview us, search the boat, and see the footage of the incident. Realizing the tapes might be confiscated and that we might need foreign pressure to get out of this, I shipped the tapes to Canada just in time, as they scoured the ship looking for them.

I couldn't believe that Costa Rica was putting us through all this when they were the ones who invited us to help them fight shark poaching. When we met William, an ex–shark fisherman, it became very clear that this was a much bigger issue than we had thought.

We sneaked ashore in Puntarenas, and William took us to where he believed the shark-finning mafia had illegal operations. Combing the high seas for a particular fishing vessel is like trying to find a needle in a haystack, but all fins have to be brought back to land to be dried and packed before being sold to the dealers. This was our chance to find out what was really going on with shark fishing in Costa Rica.

In a secluded area of town were warehouses on the water surrounded by high cement walls, barbed wire, and security cameras. We parked a few blocks away and headed back on foot, camera in hand. Unable to see anything at first, I climbed onto a transport truck so I could see over the huge walls and into the operation.

As far as the eye could see, there were tens of thousands of shark fins drying on the roofs of these warehouses. I started filming immediately, zooming in on the field of fins laid out to dry in the hot sun. Only visible from above,
this whole area was a secret port where fins could be landed unchecked by authorities and dried out of sight.

I hadn't been up there for more than thirty seconds before I was spotted. Immediately, a few men climbed onto the roofs of the closest building, shoving the fins off the roof and out of sight. They had seen the camera and were clearly panicking, kicking and pushing the fins off the roof. There were far too many to cover up, and they must have realized that I was filming the cover-up as well.

Then a group of men with guns ran out of the warehouse, screaming and pointing at me. There were millions of dollars worth of shark fins on those roofs, and I was bad for business. I hurriedly scampered off the roof and sprinted to the waiting car, yelling at the driver to “
Go! Go! Go!
” I quickly jumped in, and so did our group, and within minutes we sped away. We headed for the center of town, where there would be the most people and the most cars—basically the most witnesses to anything that might go down. As we arrived, the mafia were nowhere to be seen. We'd lost them. I knew we had just made it and were lucky to be alive.

PHOTO BY SHARKWATER PRODUCTIONS

Back onboard the
Ocean Warrior
, we got a call from our lawyer asking us what we had done. Apparently we had aggravated the situation, and instead of keeping us under house arrest, they were going to imprison Captain Watson indefinitely. There was only one way out of this, to make a break for it. Watson made the order to quickly pull anchor, leaving a couple volunteers on shore, and we headed for international waters.

Only minutes from port, with the Sea Shepherd's engines on full throttle, the coast guard's ship caught up with us and ordered us back to port. They were waving machine guns, telling us they were going to shoot unless we stopped. We wrapped the ship in barbed wire so they couldn't jump onboard and raced on.

Manning the battle stations to face any boarding attempt, the activists' faces were tense as I continued to film. This was it. If we were stopped here, we could spend months, if not years in Costa Rican prison. As we crossed the line into international waters, the coast guard gave up pursuit, and the activists aboard the
Ocean Warrior
exploded in cheers. I breathed a big sigh of relief. We had escaped, but just barely (again and in the same day). Sailing out into the open ocean, I looked back, knowing it would be a while before I went back to Costa Rica.

This adventure, along with many more from a dozen other countries eventually became the film
Sharkwater
, which took me five years to complete. When I started, I was twenty-two years old, had never shot a video camera, and had no film experience or professional help. I jumped in way over my head, and in the process, I was hospitalized, lost at sea, and indebted to many. I had flesh-eating disease, West Nile virus, tuberculosis, and dengue fever. I had to beg, plead, borrow, learn, mature, grow, and become a filmmaker to get this film done. What started as a film became a mission and a way of life. Giving up was never an option, because people need this information for positive change to be effected in the world.

In revolutions of the past—from the end of slavery to movements for cultural or gender equality, from ending whaling to slowing the depletion of the ozone layer—there are some commonalities: they were always preceded by a growing awareness of an injustice. Things weren't right, and the public, when educated, forced change upon the world. My form
of activism is making films, because they can educate, inspire, and create change.

PHOTO BY VERUSCHKA MATCHETT

Sharkwater
went on to become the second-highest-grossing Canadian theatrical documentary of all time and had successful theatrical releases around the world. It's been cited as the inspiration for changing government policy in at least four countries and has helped spawn shark conservation groups. We amassed a massive shark conservation army, and recently, Hawaii became the first place in the world to ban shark fin soup and the possession, sale, and distribution of shark fins. When I started filming
Sharkwater
, there were only four countries that had banned finning. Now there are more than eighty. Change is happening, but we're finding out that the problem is much bigger than we thought. It's not just about saving sharks anymore; it's also about saving humanity.

By midcentury, scientists predict the end of fisheries, rainforests, and coral reefs; huge food and water shortages; and a population of nine billion people on a planet that can sustain far less. We'll have mass displacement due to rising sea levels, flooding, and desertification. This isn't just an issue, this is
the
biggest issue humanity has ever faced, and it's our own survival that's in jeopardy now.

Now, more than ever, the world needs heroes, and lots of them. And that is where you come in.

_________

Rob Stewart's film
Sharkwater
exposed the shark-finning industry to audiences and spawned conservation movements worldwide
. Sharkwater
has won thirty-five international awards and had its Asian premier in Hong Kong last summer, the epicenter for shark fin consumption. He continues to promote ocean conservation and is currently working on his next film: a how-to guide to start the revolution necessary to save the planet and, ultimately, humanity
.

Twenty-five
Mohawk
Communicator