Ocean Watch

Monday, June 2, 1997

Bishop exhibit’s lesson
full of gloom and doom

"Ready to go back in and get more depressed?" my friend asked.

"I guess," I said.

But no one in our group moved. We sat in the tranquil garden for a few more moments, sipping sodas and enjoying the afternoon. Finally, someone stood and we slowly ambled back into the exhibition hall to finish our tour.

No, we weren't visiting the Holocaust Museum or looking at the AIDS quilt. We were at the Bishop Museum visiting the Smithsonian's traveling exhibit, "Ocean Planet." Contrary to our expectations, it was a downright depressing experience.

Row upon row of displays told about the dismal state of the world's oceans today.

Fisheries are in such a state of decline that after seeing the numbers, I felt I could never again in good conscience eat food from the sea. The pollution statistics, especially in terms of oil, were so shocking I felt guilty about owning a boat and a car. And the amount of coral damage from hands, feet and anchors made me consider never taking anyone snorkeling or scuba diving again.

No, no, I can hear museum officials say. The point is to encourage each of us to pitch in, to implement change, to be innovative in conservation efforts.

But does it work?

I headed to the restroom, pondering this approach. In the hallway, a display about Hawaii's snails included a code of ethics for collectors. "Collect (meaning kill) only what you really need," was one rule. Who "needs" snail shells, I wondered?

Then the next panel explained how collecting had contributed to the extinction of most of Hawaii's tree snails.

Huh?

Apparently, "Ocean Planet's" stern message that we humans are wrecking the world's oceans and killing marine wildlife right and left did not change the Bishop Museum's policy about trophy hunting.

Such blatant failure doesn't leave much hope that the exhibit will change the thinking of the rest of us either.

There's no question that our oceans are in trouble. And we all need to remember it. But the doom-and-gloom tactics of "Ocean Planet" make most of us feel hopeless and helpless instead of inspired and encouraged.

I moped around the museum awhile, then tried to concentrate on the positive aspects of "Ocean Planet." There are several.

One of the best was a video of a 2,500-foot submarine dive. As weird and wonderful marine animals appeared on the screen, researchers explained what they know about them -- or what they don't. It was nicely filmed and narrated and caused nearly everyone to stop and watch.

Another thing I liked about this ocean exhibit was the great effort Bishop Museum put forth to include information about Hawaii and the Pacific.

Years ago, when "Ocean Planet" first opened at the Smithsonian, I happened to be in Washington, D.C. The exhibit was so East Coast-oriented that I wondered if anyone at the Smithsonian had heard that there's another ocean on the other side of the country.

The current Hawaii and Pacific parts of "Ocean Planet" deal mostly with catching and eating fish, from old Hawaii until now. Ancient Hawaiian canoe anchors kept our attention, as did an impressive display of fishhooks from the past.

I asked my friends what they thought of "Ocean Planet." "Broad but shallow," was one comment. "Too many plastic fish," said another. "It's the flip side of the Waikiki Aquarium," said a third.

The concept of "Ocean Planet" is good, but whacking people over the head with guilt doesn't work. As they say at the San Diego Zoo: We only save what we love; we only love what we know; we only know what we are taught.

This kind of teaching is hard to love.