New Zealand puts an end to new permits for exploration of deep-sea oil and gas reserves



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New Zealand’s government will not grant any new permits for exploration of offshore oil and gas reserves.
from http://www.shutterstock.com, CC BY-SA

James Renwick, Victoria University of Wellington

The New Zealand government’s announcement that it will not issue any new permits for offshore exploration for oil and gas deposits is exciting, and a step in the right direction.

We know that we can’t afford to burn much more oil if we want to meet the Paris Agreement target of keeping global temperature rise this century well below two degrees above pre-industrial levels. Almost all of the already known reserves must stay in the ground, and there is no room to go exploring for more.

Pursuing further reserves would only lead to stranded assets and would waste time and resources in the short term.




Read more:
Why New Zealand should not explore for more natural gas reserves


Moving away from fossil fuels

New Zealand currently has 31 active permits for oil and gas exploration, and 22 of these are offshore. A program set up by the previous government invites bids each year for new onshore and offshore exploration permits. But this year it is restricted to the onshore Taranaki Basin, on the west coast of the North Island.

Complementing the move to shut down the exploration of new deep-sea fossil fuel reserves, the government’s new transport funding plan aims to reduce demand for fossil fuels by putting emphasis on public transport, cycling and walking.

This gets away from the outdated mantra of more roads and more cars that we have seen over the past decade and will tackle the transport sector, which has seen very rapid growth in emissions since 1990. This will help New Zealand onto a low-carbon pathway and promises a more people-focused future.

New Zealand is a small player in global emissions of greenhouse gases but our actions can carry symbolic weight on the world stage. Given our present position of 80% renewable electricity and an abundance of solar, wind, wave and tidal energy, if any country can become zero-carbon, surely New Zealand can. It can only benefit New Zealand – socially, economically and politically – to lead in this crucial race to stabilise the climate.




Read more:
A new approach to emissions trading in a post-Paris climate


Rising emissions

As the government announced its ban on new offshore exploration permits, the latest greenhouse gas inventory was also released, showing some good news. New Zealand’s gross emissions went down slightly from 2015 to 2016.

But gross emissions are up nearly 20% since 1990, and net emissions (actual emissions minus the “sinks” from forestry) are up 54% over that time. The main factors that contributed to the increase were dairy intensification and increased transport and energy emissions.

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Even though agriculture is still the largest source of emissions overall, energy and transport are close behind. We have seen a near-doubling in carbon dioxide emissions from road transport over the past 27 years.

It is encouraging to see a decrease in emissions from the waste sector. Per head of population, New Zealanders throw away significantly above the OECD average of rubbish, a lot of which is green waste that decomposes and releases methane, another potent but short-lived greenhouse gas.

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While New Zealand emits a tiny fraction of the world’s greenhouse gases, on a per-capita basis we are sixth-highest among developed countries. We have as much responsibility as any country to reduce our emissions.

Even though emissions have risen, we are set to meet our national target for 2020 (a 5% reduction on 1990 levels) because of “carry-over” credits from the first Kyoto reporting period from 2008 to 2012. But to live up to more stringent future targets, we need a lot more action than we’ve seen over the last decade. The government plans to introduce zero-carbon legislation that will commit New Zealand to reaching the goal of carbn neutrality by 2050.

The ConversationThis will require serious investment and commitment to renewable technologies, changes in the transport sector, changes to agriculture and land use, and ultimately changes in the way we all live our lives.

James Renwick, Professor, Physical Geography (climate science), Victoria University of Wellington

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

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Sludge, snags, and surreal animals: life aboard a voyage to study the abyss



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The famous “faceless fish”, which garnered worldwide headlines when it was collected by the expedition.
Rob Zugaro, Author provided

Tim O’Hara, Museum Victoria

Over the past five weeks I led a “voyage of discovery”. That sounds rather pretentious in the 21st century, but it’s still true. My team, aboard the CSIRO managed research vessel, the Investigator, has mapped and sampled an area of the planet that has never been surveyed before.

The RV Investigator in port.
Jerome Mallefet/FNRS

Bizarrely, our ship was only 100km off Australia’s east coast, in the middle of a busy shipping lane. But our focus was not on the sea surface, or on the migrating whales or skimming albatross. We were surveying The Abyss – the very bottom of the ocean some 4,000m below the waves.

To put that into perspective, the tallest mountain on the Australian mainland is only 2,228m. Scuba divers are lucky to reach depths of 40m, while nuclear submarines dive to about 500m. We were aiming to put our cameras and sleds much, much deeper. Only since 2014, when the RV Investigator was commissioned, has Australia had the capacity to survey the deepest depths.

The months before the trip were frantic, with so much to organise: permits, freight, equipment, flights, medicals, legal agreements, safety procedures, visas, finance approvals, communication ideas, sampling strategies – all the tendrils of modern life (the thought “why am I doing this?” surfaced more than once). But remarkably, on May 15, we had 27 scientists from 14 institutions and seven countries, 11 technical specialists, and 22 crew converging on Launceston, and we were off.

Rough seas

Life at sea takes some adjustment. You work 12-hour shifts every day, from 2 o’clock to 2 o’clock, so it’s like suffering from jetlag. The ship was very stable, but even so the motion causes seasickness for the first few days. You sway down corridors, you have one-handed showers, and you feel as though you will be tipped out of bed. Many people go off coffee. The ship is “dry”, so there’s no well-earned beer at the end of a hard day. You wait days for bad weather to clear and then suddenly you are shovelling tonnes of mud through sieves in the middle of the night as you process samples dredged from the deep.

Shifting through the mud of the abyss on the back deck.
Jerome Mallefet/FNRS

Surveying the abyss turns out to be far from easy. On our very first deployment off the eastern Tasmanian coast, our net was shredded on a rock at 2,500m, the positional beacon was lost, tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of gear gone. It was no one’s fault; the offending rock was too small to pick up on our multibeam sonar. Only day 1 and a new plan was required. Talented people fixed what they could, and we moved on.

I was truly surprised by the ruggedness of the seafloor. From the existing maps, I was expecting a gentle slope and muddy abyssal plain. Instead, our sonar revealed canyons, ridges, cliffs and massive rock slides – amazing, but a bit of a hindrance to my naive sampling plan.

But soon the marine animals began to emerge from our videos and samples, which made it all worthwhile. Life started to buzz on the ship.

Secrets of the deep

Like many people, scientists spend most of their working lives in front of a computer screen. It is really great to get out and actually experience the real thing, to see animals we have only read about in old books. The tripod fish, the faceless fish, the shortarse feeler fish (yes, really), red spiny crabs, worms and sea stars of all shapes and sizes, as well as animals that emit light to ward off predators.

A spiny red lithodid crab.
Rob Zugaro/Museums Victoria
The tripod fish uses its long spines to sit on the seafloor waiting for the next meal.
Rob Zugaro/Museums Victoria

The level of public interest has been phenomenal. You may already have seen some of the coverage, which ranged from the fascinated to the amused – for some reason our discovery of priapulid worms was a big hit on US late-night television. In many ways all the publicity mirrored our first reactions to animals on the ship. “What is this thing?” “How amazing!”

The important scientific insights will come later. It will take a year or so to process all the data and accurately identify the samples. Describing all the new species will take even longer. All of the material has been carefully preserved and will be stored in museums and CSIRO collections around Australia for centuries.

Scientists identifying microscopic animals onboard.
Asher Flatt

On a voyage of discovery, video footage is not sufficient, because we don’t know the animals. The modern biologist uses high-resolution microscopes and DNA evidence to describe the new species and understand their place in the ecosystem, and that requires actual samples.

So why bother studying the deep sea? First, it is important to understand that humanity is already having an impact down there. The oceans are changing. There wasn’t a day at sea when we didn’t bring up some rubbish from the seafloor – cans, bottles, plastic, rope, fishing line. There is also old debris from steamships, such as unburned coal and bits of clinker, which looks like melted rock, formed in the boilers. Elsewhere in the oceans there are plans to mine precious metals from the deep sea.

Rubbish found on the seafloor.
Rob Zugaro/Museums Victoria

Second, Australia is the custodian of a vast amount of abyss. Our marine exclusive economic zone (EEZ) is larger than the Australian landmass. The Commonwealth recently established a network of marine reserves around Australia. Just like National Parks on land, these have been established to protect biodiversity in the long term. Australia’s Marine Biodiversity Hub, which provided funds for this voyage, as been established by the Commonwealth Government to conduct research in the EEZ.

The newly mapped East Gippsland Commonwealth Marine Reserve, showing the rugged end of the Australian continental margin as it dips to the abyssal plain. The scale shows the depth in metres.
Amy Nau/CSIRO

Our voyage mapped some of the marine reserves for the first time. Unlike parks on land, the reserves are not easy to visit. It was our aim to bring the animals of the Australian Abyss into public view.

The ConversationWe discovered that life in the deep sea is diverse and fascinating. Would I do it again? Sure I would. After a beer.

Tim O’Hara, Senior Curator of Marine Invertebrates, Museum Victoria

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

Calling deep sea species ‘monsters’ may harm their conservation


Carla Litchfield, University of South Australia

Fans of the movie Finding Nemo may remember the terrifying fish that scares Dory (a blue tang) and Marlin (a clown fish) at the bottom of a trench.

But in reality this “monster”, a black seadevil, is only about 9 cm long, which would make it about a third of the size of Dory and potentially smaller than Marlin or Nemo.

In 2014, researchers at Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute began studying a single black sea devil. It was caught and moved to a special darkroom laboratory designed to simulate its dark and cold natural habitat.

While this misconception or inaccuracy may seem harmless, it could pose problems for future conservation efforts, as people are more likely to support conservation of cute rather than creepy-looking animals.

While the angler fish is easily turned into a scary monster, the similar-sized tiny Pac-Man looking octopus is cute and popular with the public.

Deep sea commercial fishing nothing to celebrate

From 2000-2010, scientists described about 1,200 new species in the Census of Marine Life Program. While this figure may seem astounding, a further 5,000 individual dead creatures are in specimen jars, waiting to be described. The scientific process of describing new species is slow.

Specimens must be methodically collected, identified, and then the identity of new deep-water species must be confirmed.

People have always had a fascination for unusual creatures that they may never see. Many exotic land animals can be seen in zoos around the world, but few deep sea species are on display in aquaria. In the meantime, people on social media are hungry for images of strange and exotic animals of the sea.

As a result, a Russian fisherman working on deep sea commercial trawlers last year gained huge numbers of social media followers after posting photos and videos of some of the deep sea creatures caught on his ship, with some even stuffed by craftsmen on board.

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Presumably, many of these specimens are bycatch, accidentally caught in nets trawling for other species popular with consumers. Sometimes bycatch, which includes marine mammals, is thrown back into the sea but it may end up on consumer plates.

If images are posted on social media by laypeople in a way that appears sensational and even heartless, and without any accurate information about the animals, then there is no resulting respect for these sea creatures or educational value. Simply viewing these creatures as freaks, ignores the importance of their role in keeping our oceans healthy.

A tripod fish deep below the Atlantic Ocean.
NOAA Ocean Exploration & Research/Flickr, CC BY-SA

Deep in danger

Most people will never spend time on a trawler fishing in deep oceans, but marine conservation and management policy depends on all of us being aware of the risks that human activities pose to marine ecosystems, such as deep water fishing, off shore mining and pollution.

If we call unusual deep sea animals monsters or demons or freaks, then we may harm their conservation as people are unlikely to connect with them or care about saving them.

On the other hand, their rarity clearly makes them popular on social media sites. For other species, this has resulted in increases in illegal trafficking for exotic pets, and aquariums. Deep sea species may potentially become illegally sourced taxidermy curiosities or food. Humans may end up eating these animals of the deep to extinction before their species are even known to science.

Rhinochimaera.
NOAA Ocean Exploration & Research/Flickr, CC BY-SA

Saving our ‘blue heart’

We still have so much to learn about deep marine ecosystems and their inhabitants, which have special adaptations for living in these typically cold and dark waters. With new submarines and technology, scientists are able to explore the ocean more easily.

The deepest part of any ocean is the Challenger Deep valley in the Mariana Trench, part of the Pacific Ocean, which is about 11,000 metres deep. By comparison, Mount Everest is about 8,550 metres tall.

The cold water of the North Atlantic, down to depths of about 1,800m, is home to the Greenland Shark, which can live for as long as 400 years!

A new species of beaked whale has also been discovered recently. It is smaller and darker than other beaked whales, perhaps because it forages for deep sea fish and giant squid at depths of up to 3,000m below sea level.

The public’s perceptions are often based on how ‘cute’ an animal is.
NOAA Ocean Exploration & Research/Flickr, CC BY-SA

Every habitat on earth is interconnected, and whatever we as humans do on the ground, or in the oceans has an impact on marine ecosystems. Removing deep sea predators and prey, and disturbing deep sea habitats, will change marine ecosystems in ways that we do not yet understand.

Some experts have compared the rapid global spread of unsustainable fishing technologies and practices to a pathological disease outbreak. Oceans are sometimes called the lifeblood of our planet, while rainforests are its lungs.

In reality, about 80% of our oxygen is produced by microorganisms in the oceans. This makes our oceans both the lungs and lifeblood of our planet. In fact, oceans are the blue heart of our planet and we must all try harder to save them.

The Conversation

Carla Litchfield, Senior Lecturer, School of Psychology, Social Work and Social Policy, University of South Australia

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.