The Forest & The Sea: Following The Flow

I’ve spent the last decade delving into stories about our environment and our relationship with nature. These stories have taken me from the Congo to the High Arctic.

Cornwall is the place I call home, and this story has a home here too. Through the work of ecologist Sam Manning, and the charity Plant One’s No Seas No Trees campaign, the ocean forest movement in the UK has taken root here.

But this story is much bigger than Cornwall. In British Columbia, salmon terraform entire forests, with a quarter of the nitrogen found in the trees originating from the migratory fish. In Japan, fishermen over the last century have led replanting efforts on land to protect their stocks at sea, creating ‘fish forests’ to ensure their industry continues. There are parallels across the globe that we could draw from, and lessons to learn.

This global story is the one we have set out to tell.

As a forest ecologist, my role working with Ted on The Forest and the Sea is to help weave together the threads of science and ecological knowledge.

I think that deep down and instinctively we all know that forests and oceans are connected. That living systems flow together. And in a world of increasing separation, we are searching for that connection. When we start to look, even just beneath the surface, there is insane complexity and wonder in the patterns of dynamic energy which connect everything. It’s something I find fascinating and I’m endlessly curious about these relationships.

My forest research has focused on the tolerance of native tree species to the post-industrial mining sites of Cornwall and the ability of pioneer species to survive in extreme conditions, while at the same time remediating the land. Living at the top of the Porthtowan Valley, which historically has been heavily degraded by mining, and leads straight down to the ocean, it was impossible not to question how impact on the land affected the sea.

Then thinking about this at scale; how deforestation globally could be having profound implications for the health of the oceans. Equally when the ocean is depleted, how does this affect the land?

Yet, the Porthtowan Valley is also full of hope. It is deeply scarred by mining but the few trees growing there are strong, creative and adaptive individuals. Life is dynamic and constantly seeking ways towards abundance. Speaking to Ted, Sam and the crew after the Japan shoot, it was so exciting to hear about the scale of forest regenerated with help from the human community. And the instant life that had boosted in the ocean in response.

Exploring the story in British Columbia will expand our knowledge further. The biggest dream is that we can share this information, gather support, and that the north coast of Cornwall will become a thriving ocean forest environment.

We arrived in Japan, on the advent of the rainy season. The pacific coastlines were shrouded with sea fog.

With Makoto Hakateyama, an oyster fisherman in the Iwate Prefecture, we headed inland, from his coastal oyster farm into the mountains.

Just below the summit of Mount Murone there is a Shinto Shrine. It served as the end point of an old pilgrimage route, to where fishermen in the Edo period used to climb, bringing salt from the oceans to bless their catch.

A few hundred metres away, and a few hundred years later, Hakateyama’s father planted his first tree on the slopes of the same mountain - an act which has become a pilgrimage for his community too. The first tree in a new ‘fish forest’.

Makoto’s father, Shigeatsu Hakateyama, colloquially known as ‘Grandpa Oyster’, went on to found a charity - ‘Mori Wa Umi No Kobito - The Forest Is Longing For The Sea’, dedicated to sharing the knowledge of ocean forest connections and restoring forest on land in order to protect the marine environment.

In Japan, we attended their 38th annual tree planting festival, and witnessed entire communities, and generations of people, come out to plant a new forest together. It was a celebration. At the centre of the new forest, a pole was erected, and from it hung dozens of flags - each flag representing a different family of fishermen. Their story was being told in the uplands - the forest connected to the sea.