The reports reminded me of an incident that happened a few years ago. It began when I was contacted by a reporter from Radio New Zealand, asking if I had seen a report in the morning newspaper about sewage from Sydney. I had not. She explained that a “scientist” opposed to the construction of a new ocean outfall to handle Sydney’s sewage was claiming that ocean currents would bring the waste all the way across the Tasman Sea to New Zealand. In fact, New Zealand was already feeling the effects of the present discharge from Sydney. It was causing whale strandings in Golden Bay and the country’s first ever toxic algae bloom. Both events were in the news at the time.

I referred her to an oceanographer friend, actually the director of the NZ Oceanographic Institute, asked for a copy of the story and assured her she could come back to me if she still needed help. Shortly afterwards a fax arrived. Shortly after that, she was on the line again. She didn’t get much from NZOI. The only quote she had was “Oh dear, I would really like to see the evidence for that statement!” I explained that was scientific speak. It meant “rubbish!” (or words to that effect).

But the story had reminded me of an incident which occurred a few months earlier. An earnest young man had visited the Cawthron Institute, urging us to begin some research into cetaceans. Eventually, no doubt a result of some effective empathetic listening on my part, he confided in me. He explained that there was a node in the Earth’s magnetic field directly above Farewell Spit. Aliens were using this on a regular basis to extract energy from the planet. However, the process interrupted the navigation systems of whales, hence the large number of whale strandings there. Any other possible causes for whale strandings put forward by me were dismissed as extremely unlikely.

I told the reporter that I was strongly reminded of this visit when I read the newspaper report. “That’s fantastic!” said the reporter. “Can I get that on tape?” “Why not?” I thought. So the next morning on national radio, the first item after the eight o’clock news, there was a clip of the Director of the Cawthron Institute talking about aliens. Unfortunately, the irony was lost on some listeners and I got quite a few letters on the topic.

At the very beginning of 93, I received a call from the airport manager asking if I knew the whereabouts of X.  Yes, X was a scientist on our staff. Well, X had left their car on the two-minute parking in front of the airport entrance, two weeks ago! Thinking of the size of a possible fine, I hasten to explain that X had gone off to the far north, chasing the cause of New Zealand’s first-ever algae bloom.(see note below)

Karenia mikimotoi, prime suspect in the 1993 algae bloom

Perhaps the airport manager had seen X on TV? Yes, indeed he had.  I was getting a little worried about X, I added, because this scientist had been working very long hours without a single break since leaving town. But (getting back to the issue at hand) could we help with the removal of the car? Oh no, that wasn’t a problem. X had left it unlocked with the keys still in it and the engine running!  It was now parked in a secure place and if X would contact the airport manager upon their return to Nelson they would be happy to help. And no, of course there would be no fine, after all X’s work was really important for our mussel industry.

I love the layers in this little story.  The incredible focus of a research scientist on a mission to uncover something new; the fact that most people in town knew about the algae bloom and that the Cawthron Institute was working hard to minimise its impact upon the marine farming sector, the feeling that everyone in the community was working together as a team.

Note: This event was really a big deal at the time.  At its peak, almost the whole of the shellfish industry had been shut down, throughout the length of New Zealand.  The media spoke of a ‘wave’ of toxic algae sweeping down the country, from the far north to the bottom of the South Island.  Surveillance and monitoring programmes were set up, at a cost of $millions.  Some years (and much hard work) later, it was shown by scientists at Cawthron and the University of Shizuoka that all but a very few cases around Northland were likely to have been false alarms.  The wave was pure fiction.

On the bright side, it also lead to New Zealand developing the world’s best marine biotoxin management programme for commercial shellfish production, most of which is exported.  That still provides a competitive advantage for a product where safety is so important.