Being born on an island, surrounded by the sea from this early age, what is your first memory of the ocean?

One of the first things I remember is the amazing feeling of diving underwater when it’s raining. I love the feeling; it’s kinda escaping the rain. The rain is torrential and when you go underneath the water, it’s suddenly silent and when you come up the silence just shatters.

I also remember collecting limu and seaweed on the shoreline when I was very young and giving it to my grandparents for medicine. It wasn’t until I was studying marine science that I had these big ‘aha’ moments. I suddenly saw the scientific aspect of what we were doing when we were young. Thinking about how I was taught to pick them in a way that you don’t damage the integrity of the holdfast and when to pick, the condition of the sea, but also the season, even the time of day and which side of the rock. Those are really, really detailed things. I didn’t realise how intelligent it was until I studied marine science. We just called it differently, because it’s traditional knowledge, but we were doing science, monitoring, resource management.

I think that many local and indigenous communities across the world have a very valuable contribution to the solution for healing the oceans and we do not even realize it. I believe if they are given the opportunity, indigenous people and local communities with long-standing traditional knowledge are able to contribute. They have stronger relationships with nature, which a lot of people don’t have anymore. They can remind us about those relationships and help re-enable that connection.

What does the ocean mean to you today?

I see the ocean as a big part of my identity and a big part of my life. It holds a lot of my memories. I spent many months on the ocean and there I felt home. There weren’t many people around, there weren’t a lot of distractions. So that pristine setting allowed me to tap into that pretty old connection with the ocean. I see it sometimes as a church, a sanctuary and when I think of it as safe place, I am reminded of times when I went to the ocean when I needed to grieve or when I had some of my happiest moments. And now that I am tearing up, I am reminded that it’s just salt water. She is always with me.

You mentioned that you spent many months on the ocean, and earlier the duality of life and death in the ocean. Could you tell us a little bit more about that?

I worked as an observer for three years. An observer is someone who counts fish on commercial fishing vessels and records data on the fish and the by-catch. In Hawaii, by law, all swordfish vessels and 20% of the tuna fishing vessels need to have an observer. The difference stems from the fishing technique: swordfishing sets the hooks really shallow in the water, and some species are really vulnerable to the hooks because they breathe air and are closer to the surface of the ocean, like seabirds, marine mammals and turtles. So they have a chance of becoming by-catch. Tuna on the other hand are really deep in the ocean and seabirds, marine mammals and turtles have less interactions.

The first time I witnessed a shark get decapitated I was sitting on a 5-gallon bucket on the deck of this longline fishing boat. They brought this shortfin mako shark in, lacerated his head off and cut off its fins. The blood was everywhere. I sat on my bucket and I was petrified, I couldn’t move. I thought about my grandparents and what they would think if they knew I had witnessed this. I never told them that I saw that. My stomach was turning and I hid my tears. I know what 30.000 pounds of fish looks like. And that is one boat. I witnessed that for 3 years. At some point I had to become distant from it.

At the same time, I saw all those beautiful things on the ocean. I saw the duality of life and death out there. I have seen whale sharks, Risso’s dolphins and shortfin pilot whales and bioluminescence and you see like 200 albatross following the boat. Or schools of flying fish take flight.

So when you talk about Ocean Witness, I remember that story. Because I feel like I was a witness. I had a moral obligation to do something. I stopped eating tuna for like 1 year and actually I don’t eat it very often. I am using that story to make a positive change. I use it as a drive. That is my positive spin for it.

You’ve spend almost your whole life living close to the ocean. Could you share any of the changes you’ve witnessed during your lifetime?

I think changes that I have seen in my place and other places around the world are the ones we are talking about: rising seas and temperatures, and acidification. I would say that the ocean is reciprocating: it is giving back exactly what we have been doing to it. It’s become hostile, because we are mistreating it. It is affecting our relationship with it and we need to reconcile. If we don’t reconcile that’s harsh, that’s a loss.

I know society is not there yet collectively. We are disconnected from the senses, disconnected from the environment. Even when the imagery is powerful, sometimes we need to experience it, to smell it and to have all of those things to be able to learn. I think we need to focus on telling stories. Honoring those relationships. If I have a relationship to those people whose island is sinking, if I know them and their family and children, I care more.  

We have the same struggles in managing my place in Papahānaumokuākea. I need to get people to care about a place that they may never go to. We have this mantra: bring the place to the people. And we try so hard: imagery, stories, education, but we still need to get people out there.

So when we’re looking ahead, let’s say 2030. How do you see the ocean then?

I think that even though we will see a lot of the consequences from our actions today and the years to come, all of us will be in a different mindset about what we need to do. We’ll be changing our behavior on a huge global scale, then we’ll see it as necessary, as a moral just thing to do. Hopefully we’ll change our perspective, that it becomes more of a love thing. We have to think about being a community on different levels, both on a local and global scale.

Maybe you can share how you feel you can contribute to this change?

I think I contribute in different ways. For my family I am making sure that I am instilling values, ethics and morals, cultural values that I want my children to perpetuate and carry on. On a larger scale, global, I feel a very deep sense of responsibility to elevate the knowledge systems and environmental ethics of indigenous people. I feel that it’s a very important part of what we do. Culture has to be about best practices. You are living in a specific place for generations, your culture developed best practices. But you don’t call it best practices, but cultural norms.

What would you tell other ocean witnesses?

What would I say to other people? I would say that you are a reflection of the ocean. The health and wellbeing of you, your community, the places that you are connected to, are a reflection of your environment and the ocean. That is one of the reasons why it is important to share your stories, because the ocean cannot always speak for itself. And by sharing that story you give us life and we thrive together.

About Kalani

Kalani Quiocho is a native son of Hawaiʻi. He is a descendent of these islands and feels a deep-rooted sense of responsibility to elevate the knowledge systems and environmental ethics of indigenous people for the benefit of humanity and the world. Kalani now works as the Native Hawaiian Program Specialist for the Papahānaumokuākea Marine National Monument of the Office of National Marine Sanctuaries within NOAA.

Not everyone lives close to the ocean and is able to contribute the way Kalani does. But everyone can become an Ocean Witness. We’d like to thank Audrey, who became an Ocean Witness by translating Kalani’s story, without taking away any of the inspiring elements of the story as it was told originally.