Phuket’s Battle Below Waves: Divers and Salisa Traipipitsiriwat’s Fight Against Ghost Gear Menace

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Picture this: an idyllic scene off the coast of Phuket, where the waters shimmer a dazzling turquoise, hiding a less picturesque reality beneath. On April 4, 2024, amidst this scenic beauty, a star puffer fish finds itself an unwitting prisoner within the confines of an abandoned fishing cage, a stark symbol of the unseen battle raging under the waves. This is not an isolated incident but a glimpse into a growing crisis in the waters off Thailand and other parts of the world — the menace of “ghost gear.”

Ghost gear, as it’s ominously named, refers to the forgotten or lost fishing equipment that haunts our oceans, ensnaring unsuspecting marine life in its grasp. Made predominantly of plastic, this debris not only traps sea creatures but also contributes to the burgeoning issue of microplastics pollution as it breaks down over time. The coral reefs, vibrant with life, are transformed into graveyards, entangled in nets and ropes left behind by humans.

In the shadows of these startling revelations, the Department of Marine and Coastal Resources in Thailand has sounded the alarm: the percentage of endangered marine life affected by plastic pollution in the upper Andaman Sea has frighteningly jumped from 20% in 2021 to a staggering 30% by 2023. The numbers speak volumes, telling tales of devastation and the urgent need for action.

Enter the knights of the underwater realm: scuba divers and marine organizations, driven by a shared mission to liberate the reefs from the clutches of ghost gear. These cleanup missions, though flush with valiant efforts, bump against the challenge of grappling with the true scale of the problem. There’s a dire need for a unified battle plan, a strategy that’s lacking, leaving these heroes to fight a Goliath without a sling.

In the midst of this turmoil, Salisa Traipipitsiriwat, a name synonymous with marine advocacy, shines as a beacon of hope. As a senior campaigner with the Environmental Justice Foundation, Salisa underscores the power of community — the divers, the fishermen, the government sectors — all rallying together in this cleanup crusade. Yet, she voices a critical bottleneck: “Even though there is collection of waste, there is no uniform data collection,” highlighting a significant chink in their armor.

Off the shores of Phuket, about 20 volunteer divers don their knightly scuba gear, descending into the depths with scissors and nets, not in search of treasure, but to salvage the future of our oceans. They meticulously record data, like modern-day scribes, charting their victories and losses against ghost gear. This small army is on the frontline, beckoning others to join their ranks, while also corralling about 500 fishermen into their ranks to retrieve the abandoned nets that mar the sea.

The fruits of their labor are not lost; the collected trash is assessed, weighed, and where destiny allows, reborn through recycling into new objects, giving a second life to what was once a marine death sentence. An astounding 130 tons of such debris has been rescued by EJF’s efforts, a testament to their unwavering commitment.

In a somber twist, a dead turtle’s story unfolds onshore, its final meal — pieces of rope and plastic. This tragic discovery, presided over by Patcharaporn Kaewmong of the marine rescue center, serves as a grim reminder of the plastic pandemic sweeping our seas. “As of today, plastic waste is one of the main causes of endangered marine animals washing ashore,” Patcharaporn remarks, lending her voice to the clarion call for change.

Thus, beneath the serene vistas of Phuket, a war rages silently — a war against ghost gear. It’s a battle that calls for heroes, for unity, for innovation. A battle not just for the survival of marine life, but for the health of our oceans and, ultimately, our future.