The importance of the oceans, their wildlife and ecosystems
The land and oceans are part of one system: Earth. So when we ask, why are the oceans important? We’re asking about our own future. Life began in the ocean billions of years before the first plants or animals colonised land. Oceans regulate the state of our atmosphere because they are 99 per cent of the volume of living space for animals and wildlife is the mechanism that drives stability.
Climate change has always been the symptom of biodiversity loss … that’s to say, the breakdown of the complex connectivity between lifeforms that allows Earth to flex in response to changing conditions. Ocean wildlife has, for the large part, acted as a buffer against the most catastrophic effects and since about fifty million years ago, has kept our climate quite stable.
Industrial fishing only happened recently in our planet’s history and this reduction in the abundance of wildlife represents our greatest challenge for survival.
Below you will find a range of articles designed to inspire an understanding of the magnitude of animal impact on our oceans.
The importance of whales and dolphins in our oceans
What’s more important, the ocean or the land?
The importance we bestow on the land is anthropocentric because we live there. It’s naturally important to us that we protect it. Nonetheless, if life in the ocean dies, we suffer irreversible changes to land-based ecosystems and climate.
In this article, we take a look at many of the ways that land and oceans are linked together.
The answer to the question, ‘why are the oceans important’, is that we live on the land but the oceans regulate Earth’s temperature. The oceans are equally vital to the land we live on.
Seabirds
Life is serendipitous as we’re all victims of circumstance, born into our local environment. The Galápagos Penguins’ Pacific climate deal ensures that it can survive …
Sharks and Rays
I’d only ever seen whale sharks at the surface before. Swimming with whale sharks in Indonesia was something unexpectedly rewarding. This article is one of …
Latest posts about why the oceans are important
I had the most extraordinary encounter the other day which got me thinking. Can we talk to animals through body language? It was in Melbourne over Easter. We decided to snorkel at Ricketts Point Marine Park, just a few kilometres from the city centre. A huge stingray instigated a close-encounter and didn’t seem in the slightest bit concerned by our presence.
After almost calling it a day, we spotted bird activity off Table Rock. There were pelicans, cormorants, terns and gulls feeding on small fish. There were also predatory salmon underneath. Needle-like small fish were from the water, the afternoon sun glinting off mirrored bodies.
The ocean was getting chilly and the sea was choppy. So, it took a bit of will power to climb back into cold and damp wetsuits. ‘Climb’ is not the right word. Getting into a damp wetsuit is an act of contortion. We coined the verb ‘to squerlcheeze’ instead, like a combination of ‘squirm’, ‘squelch’ and ‘squeeze’. The first forty minutes swim were uneventful. On the way back though, we were confronted by a dense ball of fish in the shallows. Then the salmon appeared, followed by a huge smooth ray. This is where the story begins.
Sea pancake
To my left streams of foot-long salmon were piling past. As I took photos I could feel the salmon bouncing off my legs before they smashed into the pulsating disco of small fish in front of me. All of a sudden this enormous ray appeared and my initial reaction was to further inflate my lungs and lie on the surface as it swum beneath.
Smooth rays are colloquially known as ‘stingrays’. In time-honoured tradition, it’s an animal that strikes fear into Australians (Aussies are scared of most of their wildlife). Since Steve Irwin was killed by a related species in Queensland it’s been worse. In truth, they are gentle giants. And giants they are. This animal was easily 3m from nose to tail and a couple of metres across. The tail is muscular and contains an unsheathed barb the size of a large carving knife.
After the ray passed by I stood up on the bare rock beneath and it turned back towards me. Ever so slowly this huge sea pancake planed towards me before slowing and gently resting its head on my feet.
For a few moments we were eyeball to eyeball. This old, inquisitive and intelligent animal was looking at me with curiosity. Who knows what it was thinking. Perhaps it was thinking what I was … not much. Just taking in that moment and greeting me like a dog might do in a local park.
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What’s the most or least intelligent animal?
There is a lovely statement in the opening paragraph of Tyson Yunkaporta’s book Sand Talk. It says that ‘fifty per cent of the echidna brain is used for some of…
Body language among animals
When an old dog comes up to me in a park it’s usually slowly. It’ll drop its head, walk up and wait for me to do the same. I remain steadfast and offer an outstretched arm as a greeting. The moment usually passes in seconds and we both go on our way.
When speaking we are limited in the way we communicate. Writing, even more so. After all, how often have you sent a text message and had to apologise? It’s so easy for a word to be interpreted differently at each end. But body language and the way we express ourselves through our demeanour is an almost universal and infinite vocabulary. We can talk to animals. We all recognise this. It’s how we avoid conflict and create love.
My friend who was watching the smooth ray encounter later asked: ‘Do you think there is an energyEnergy and nutrients are the same thing. Plants capture energy from the Sun and store it in chemicals, via the process of photosynthesis. The excess greenery and waste that plants create, contain chemicals that animals can eat, in order to build their own bodies and reproduce. When a chemical is used this way, we call it a nutrient. As we More that animals pick up on?’ Yes, I think this is almost certainly the case.
What I find most awe-inspiring though, is how a sea creature as profoundly different to me – a smooth ray – can understand me. Surely this means that my body language and the way I present to you, is similar to the way a smooth ray presents to another of its kind. Doesn’t this simply mean that we share a common language? I’ve experienced similar moments with an orangutan, horse, birds and small mammals.
This is a language that transcends speech, one that creates a level of respectful – in the same way as a handshake might.
Living among wildlife
When we approach animals with the intent to impose ourselves on them it can create disturbance. But when we are present among animals and just going about our business, wildlife is usually quite content. Can we talk to animals simply through our welcoming or nonchalant body language? It’s perhaps unsurprising as we’ve been part of ecosystemsHow ecosystems function An ecosystem is a community of lifeforms that interact in such an optimal way that how ecosystems function best, is when all components (including humans and other animals) can persist and live alongside each other for the longest time possible. Ecosystems are fuelled by the energy created by plants (primary producers) that convert the Sun's heat energy More for many thousands of years.
I know, for instance, that I can get closer to a wild bird if I walk along whistling and staring straight ahead. If I lift binoculars up and walk towards a bird it will become intimidated and move away.
Of course the best way to be among animals, is to sit quietly for as long as possible. The other day I sat reading a book on a bench in a small park. Within about ten minutes fairy-wrens were a few inches from my feet and native bush rats were feeding just behind me.
The consequence for our own wellbeing
If being among us is a natural instinct for other animals, it stands to reason that it applies to us as well. I am a firm believer that almost any trait we experience in ourselves can be conveyed onto animals like us. Body language is no different. In answer to the question: Can we talk to animals? The answer is yes. It doesn’t have to be via speech.
We can learn cooperation by simply observing animals and how they behave. Encounters like this aren’t just a thrill and privilege. They are also a reminder that we can live among large animals and understand each other.
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Animals don’t compete with humans, it’s in our imagination
Animals don’t compete with humans and successful animals don’t compete with each other. Competition theory may be one of ecology’s failures. It’s not that it’s incorrect. It describes one mechanism…
As a species, is it possible for us to rediscover our animality? The ability to accept another complex living creature into our living space, greet them, and allow them to go about their business, is a key to our own survival. Even when we were hunters, we wouldn’t hunt all of the time. It’s this ability to cooperate that makes us part of functioning and healthy ecosystems.
If we applied this mantra to all the animals of the world, we would not have so much persecution. We might even respect each other better. That would make the world a nicer place to live. Surrounded by a greater abundance of animals, it would also make it a more habitable place for humanity.