Hardy Nominated As Ocean Hero

We are working to nominate Hardy for the Ocean Heroes award.
If you can take a minute to also nominate him that would be great.

THANK YOU!

Jennifer

Here's the info/link:

Go to https://www.facebook.com/oceana/app_425004930866752

Fill out nominees info: Hardy Jones, hardyjones@bluevoice.org, 68 years old, http://www.bluevoice.org <http://www.bluevoice.org/>

Then just fill in the large white box with your brief thoughts about why he is so worthy of this recognition. : )

Findings in Dolphin Mortality Event in Peru

By Hardy Jones

I've just spoken with Dr. Carlos Yaipen Llanos in Lima. He has found no evidence of virus or disease such as brucellosis in the dolphins stranded along the coast of northern Peru. He has found indications of internal trauma including indications of rapid ascent. But he emphasized he did not know the cause of this. Many have blamed seismic testing by oil companies but the UME began before the oil companies began testing in 2012. I'm awaiting a full report from him.

Happier news is that the Peruvian Congress summoned Carlos to testify and they were highly alarmed and indicated they would take strong action against deliberate killing of dolphins for food. They are looking at other measures to protect dolphins in Peruvian waters.

 Hardy Jones of BlueVoice.org and Dr. Carlos Yaipen Llanos with dead baby dolphin

It is becoming clear that the pelican mortality is due to starvation probably linked to the el nino/la nina cycle.


More shortly.

Dolphin Mortality in Peru - 2nd Trip

Hardy and Carlos by Dead Baby Dolphin

Tuesday, April 10. We arrive to the stranding site, as I told you before,
on Tuesday, next with my assistant, a Environmental Police officer and
driver. We closed a successfull day collecting 10 periotic bones from
dolphins, blubber samples from new dolphin strandings that were
viable and a fresh baby porpoise for histology analysis collected at
the very end of they. We surveyed 50 Km only, planning to return the
next day. It took us 8 hours in the road since removing periotic bones
is a very delicate process, as Hardy knows from experience. We counted
a dozen new dead dolphins dead a week ago getting stranded by the
ocean.

Conclusion as to Cause of Dolphin Mortality East Coast USA

During the late 1980s a massive die-off of bottlenose dolphins took place first in New Jersey and moved along the entire eastern seaboard, ending finally at Cape Canaveral. Hundreds of dead dolphins were found, many others were never counted. Below is the conclusion of the multidisciplinary committee that investigated this dreadful event.

My book contains the entire story, politics, bureaucracy and unanswered questions.

 

The process of reviewing evidence and getting it peer-reviewed takes time. In September 1994, I received a report of the conclusions of the interagency team that had gathered in Beaufort, North Carolina, with additional experts to bring together all information produced by investigations into the die-off. The report concluded, “The results for the beach-cast specimens (dead dolphins) obviously reflect the levels of contaminants in the nearshore environment where the dolphins accumulate these substances.” 

But no definitive answer was ever found. 

Catastrophe for dolphins along the north coast of Peru

Hardy Jones reporting from Chiclayo Peru, March 28th:

During February of this year there had been rumors of as many as 260 dolphins dead on the north coast of Peru. But some authorities dismissed the report. I backed off the story. But on March 23rd I received an email from Dr. Carlos Yaipen Llanos, Lima-based director of the marine mammal rescue organization, ORCA Peru, stating there had been approximately one thousand dolphins stranded along the north coast of Peru. Lest there be any doubt, stranded means dead in virtually all cases.

For a night I stared at the ceiling. What was the truth of what was happening along that bleak, desert coast, one of the most abundant fisheries in the world and mating and feeding habitat for huge numbers of dolphins, sea lions and birds? If the numbers were even close to accurate this would be perhaps the greatest dolphin mortality event ever recorded. I called Dr. Yaipen. He had a man on the ground north of Chiclayo who confirmed large numbers of dolphins stranded along 200 kilometers of the coast.

I immediately packed my bags and book a Delta flight for Lima the following day. Carlos met me at Jorge Chavez International Airport. Our 6:25am flight to Chiclayo was cancelled due to Lima’s pea soup fog so we grabbed an overnight bus. We linked up with three young ORCA women who had done some scouting for Carlos. They confirmed dead dolphins on nearby beaches but had not traveled most of the coast.

At 11am we packed into a four wheel drive Toyota pickup with a back seat cab and drove through San Jose to the beach, cranked a right turn and headed north at low tide on a beach that was mostly firm.  Our goal was to find the thousand beached dolphins and were told the greatest concentration was three hours drive north. That was our goal and we determined we would not stop for anything else.

Within a few hundred yards we began to see dead dolphins.  In ones and twos, then Carlos saw a Burmeister’s Porpoise. Some were highly decomposed while others were in the surfline freshly stranded. All were dead.

Carlos and his team performed necropsies on a couple of the dolphins. Seeing a new born common dolphin, umbilicus still attached was wrenching.

We raced along the hard sand at the edge of the surfline crying out when we saw a dead dolphin. At first they came every couple minutes. But then we’d hit intervals when the cries would go “dolphin! Delphin! Otro! Dos mas! There’s another one up by the dune.”

When I asked for a total from Carlos’ s assistant I was stunned to hear we’d counted over 200 dolphins. We hit a length of beach no more than 100 yards long in which we found ten dolphins of varying levels of decomposition.

The numbers continued to mount. By the time the rising tide forced us off the beach the count had reached 615, counted over 135 kilometers. 

Dr. Yaipen and I had known each other for some four years. We’d become involved in a study of Peruvian fishermen who eat dolphin meat. While illegal, this is commonly done and the authorities do not have the resources to prevent it. But Dr. Yaipen had discovered something important. The fishermen who ate dolphin meat regularly had a disproportionately elevated incidence of diabetes. I had found diabetes in Taiji, Japan in two men who ate dolphin meat; not in itself significant but these were men who had no other symptoms. Both were lean, didn’t eat sugar. What they did eat was dolphin meat and a certain fish that is known to have high levels of endocrine disrupting chemicals – chemicals that also disrupt the way the human body utilizes insulin.

Dolphin Hunting Season Ends at Taiji - Reason for Hope?

  There is potentially good news from Taiji. The number of dolphins killed this year was 615. Half of last year.
  They are ending the hunting season Feb 28, which is the normal ending time for the hunt on dolphins (Iruka). But last year when they came up short of their quota they got an extension to make up for the deficit. This year they did not ask for one. The question now is whether they will continue to hunt gondo (pilot whales, Rissos, melonheads – i.e. what they call small whales but we in the west classify as dolphins). By tradition they hunt them through April. If they do not hunt them it would be a good sign. But as in all things related tdo Taiji I urge caution. 
  The most likely cause of this decline in take is that there is less demand. But it is also possible that water temperatures have moved the most often taken species to different waters in search of prey. Distribution of fish is mostly governed by water temperature. A final possibility is that the prized species have become depleted and are difficult to find.
   There were also 160 dolphins taken for captivity during the past season.
   I believe the best course of action for BlueVoice is to continue to test dolphins and dolphin eaters for contamination and publish that information to depress the demand for dolphin meat.

Pollutants in Fish Lead to Larger Breasts, Diabetes and Obesity

Huffington Post has just published my blog on the impact estrogen imitating chemicals ingested through fish (and dolphin meat) can have on obesity, diabetes and larger breasts in women – AND MEN! Toxic data a great tool to end dolphin hunt for meat. Please forward to friends and RT. Also Like and Comment on the blog.
http://huff.to/wPyhkh

Mortality Rate in Dolphin Eating Taiji Town

Japan's National Institute of Population and Social Security Research has cited mortality figures in Taiji, for 2007, at 67 deaths from a population of some 3,500 residents — putting the town's overall mortality rate more than 50 percent above other villages nationwide of roughly the same population. However Kozagawa, west of Taiji, where dolphin meat is also consumed, showed an even higher rate — with 82 deaths from a population of 3,426 people in 2007.

Mercury Expert Warns of Fish Jerky

Dr. Jane Hightower, a pioneer in connecting human disease to mercury consumption has published a paper on alarming levels of mercury in fish jerky. Hightower is a wonderful doctor and person and primary in bringing the dangers of mercury in fish to public attention.

For more on mercury go to www.Diagnosismercury.org  Her book,  Diagnosis Mercury is available at Amazon at http://amzn.to/xgWBs6

For interview with Dr. Hightower and more information on mercury go to
http://bluevoice.org/news_mercury.php

Mercury Concentrations in Fish Jerky Snack Food:
Marlin, Ahi, and Salmon
Jane M Hightower1* and David L Brown2

Abstract
Background: Dried meat and fish have served as an important durable nutrition source for humans for centuries. Because omega 3 fatty acids in fish are recognized as having antioxidant and anti inflammatory properties found to be beneficial for good health, many consumers are looking to fish as their main source of protein.
Unfortunately, contaminants such as methylmercury can accumulate in some species of fish. The purpose of this research is to test commercially available fish jerky snack foods for mercury contamination.
Methods: Fifteen bags of marlin jerky, three bags of ahi jerky, and three bags of salmon jerky were purchased from large retail stores in Hawaii and California, and directly from the proprietors’ Internet websites. Five individual strips of jerky per bag were analyzed for a total of one hundred and five tests.
Results: From the seventy-five marlin jerky samples, mercury concentration ranged from 0.052-28.17 μg/g, with an average of 5.53 μg/g, median 4.1 μg/g. Fifty-six (75%) marlin samples had mercury concentrations that exceeded the FDA’s current mercury action level of 1.0 μg/g, while six samples had greater than 10 μg/g. Fifteen samples of ahi had mercury concentrations ranging from 0.09-0.55 μg/g, while mercury concentrations in fifteen salmon samples ranged from 0.030-0.17 μg/g.
Conclusions: This study found that mercury concentrations in some fish jerky can often exceed the FDA’s allowable mercury limit and could be a significant source of mercury exposure.
Keywords: Ahi, fish, jerky, marlin, mercury, methylmercury, salmon

Reporting the Dolphin Slaughter Live from Taiji

In 2001 I went to Taiji ready to do audiocasts coupled with video from the scene of the dolphin slaughters. I'm posting this so those fighting for the lives of the dolphins today will have some perspective on what has been tried before and how it worked out. The following segment if from The Voice of the Dolphins.

By Hardy Jones

The story begins on the first day of our finding about 40 pilot whales netted off in Hatagajiri Bay.

I phoned my first report to a voice-mail box at Humane Society of the United States (HSUS). It would be coupled with the pre-staged video and stills and go out on The Animal Channel within a few hours. The first Internet report brought an audience of unique visitors numbering fifteen thousand within twelve hours. In my report, I asked everyone listening to protest to Japanese embassies and the fishing cooperative in Taiji.

Meanwhile, the fishermen were nowhere to be seen. Sakae walked into town and learned from the woman running the dolphin meat shop that they were discussing what to do about us.

Day two was sunny. We monitored the bay against any attempt to kill the pilot whales. If they were going to die, we were going to film it. Watching a large male protectively circling the females and calves was agonizing for me. I had a slim hope that we could force the fishermen to release them but, in reality, knew they would eventually return with their long knives.

Later in the day, the boat used in the slaughter returned to Hatajiri Bay. It moved among the pilot whales, and suddenly, a man on the bow thrust a spear into the body of one of them. It writhed briefly and then went still. Moments later, the process was repeated. Both whales were then secured by rope to the side of the boat and dragged back to Taiji town for butchering. I filmed the entire process from a hidden position atop the cliff on the north side of the bay. What the fishermen were trying to avoid by this time consuming procedure was any grizzly slaughter footage emerging from Taiji.

I continued to file audio reports. The audience built with each passing hour until we had reached three hundred thousand unique visitors. A tsunami of protest faxes and calls pounded Japanese embassies around the world.

And then the typhoon hit with a vengeance. That night I lay on my futon bed on the straw mat floor thinking of the terror of the whales. Sleep was fitful when it came.

On the morning of the third day, I awoke at 4:30 and, carrying my video camera, left the hotel alone. The killing bay was quiet— only the pilot whales’ percussive breathing what I feared would be their last breaths. I walked along the southern arm of the bay to a point where I could see the incoming storm pushing huge waves against the rocky shore. Rain was falling almost horizontally in wind-driven sheets, but the temperature was mild.

As I turned back toward the road, a little white van appeared. It turned and the headlights hit me straight on. They knew I was there. They clambered out of the cab and started removing their implements of slaughter. Without thinking much about it, I walked toward them, camera running on my hip. They didn’t seem to know what to do, but as I passed among them, I said “Sayonara.” I’m not sure why. One of them growled something that Sakae later translated as “Sayonara, my ass. You know what we’re doing, and you’ll be back.”

Back at the hotel, Larry and Sakae joined me, and we went out the rear door and took a coastal path to reach the ocean side of the killing bay. We climbed a steep stone stairway to a vantage point a couple of hundred feet above the bay. By the time we got there, the killing had begun. The fishermen were stabbing individual pilot whales, then roping their tails and dragging them to the beach to cut their throats and let them bleed out. I crawled out on a rock promontory and began shooting video. Rain was intense, and I wondered how long my Sony camera would hold out.

For a moment, I imagined what the pilot whales must be experiencing: held for days in confusion and terror, concerned for their babies and fellow pod members, then suddenly forced into a confined space and stabbed, roped and hauled to the beach to face their executioners. For most of the time, they would be conscious and feeling excruciating pain. The second rank to be killed would be hearing the cries of those first taken. Soon, the taste of the blood of their pod mates would reach those awaiting the same fate.

But I could think and grieve later. The job of the moment was to record the images. Looking through the lens puts distance between the cameraman and the horror. You have to focus and get the light right and make sure you have sufficient battery charge and tape to carry the whole shoot. But the massacre was registering in me, stored in a momentarily remote place from which it would erupt in later days and nights. I had watched these pilot whales for three days, and this felt very personal.

Suddenly we heard a guttural cry and several fishermen appeared behind us. “What the hell are you doing! You people are a pain in the ass,” they screamed in Japanese.

Larry and I tried to continue taping, but our main concern became safeguarding the video we’d already taken. The mission of these men was to get it from us. We demanded to go to the police, but the fishermen laughed and said, “Fine; they’re our friends.” So we decided against that.

The fishermen carried long poles they use to prod the whales and wore hard hats that they swung at us. I decided the best way to get out of this confrontation was to move to a more public area, so I suggested to Sakae and Larry that we agree to accompany the fishermen down the hill toward the main road and the hotel, pretending to be following their instructions. As we descended, Larry and I discussed what to do.

When I got near the bottom of the stone stairs, I looked back at Larry. He made a signal that he would roll tape, and I made a break for the hotel. A young, heavy-set guy hit me with his hard hat, crouched into a sumo-like stance, and tried to block my way. Crossing the several hundred yards to the hotel in wet jeans was like running through glue. The fisherman kept trying to push me backwards. I made slow progress by putting out my arms like a bird drying its wings and then rolling off him to gain a few steps. I felt like an NBA forward working through a tough defense. My adversary smiled and yelled, “Ah, basketball!” We both laughed. What kind of confrontation was this? A few yards farther on, he hit me particularly hard with his hard hat, then apologized. “Gomenasai”—“So sorry.” Only in Japan!

Larry caught up to me at the entrance to the hotel. We went through the front door like a running back and his blocker. Sakae followed. The fisherman ran into the lobby after us, screaming violently but we managed to get into our rooms and lock the doors.

It seemed apparent that no further videotaping could be done in Taiji. Outside our hotel windows, the typhoon howled, and we were not about to walk back into the hands of the fishermen. What was paramount was to get the video material on the Internet as soon as possible. This would not save the pilot whales now dead or dying in Hatajiri Bay, but perhaps we could thwart the next capture. We didn’t know on whose side the police in Taiji would come down. At all costs, we did not want our videotape confiscated.

With today’s technology—an iPod, for instance—I could have shot video and e-mailed it to HSUS in Washington or uploaded to YouTube. But in 2001, we had to get to a Hyatt hotel in Osaka to transmit via an Ethernet connection.