Posts tagged peatland

Alongside the forest, up against the wall

holding out the banner in the Kampar peninsula © Greenpeace/Novis

Backs against the wall: holding out the banner in the Kampar peninsula © Greenpeace/Novis

I’ve scrubbed and showered but there are still traces of mud sticking to me. It’s my own fault – I guess I shouldn’t have gone tramping around the peatlands here in Riau. But the picture above, that’s us: some of the Esperanza’s crew and several Indonesian volunteers pulling our banner tight against the forest wall, the straight line that separates the thriving ecosystem from the barren areas which have been cleared of trees. In case you’re wondering, I’m at the top of the P in ‘STOP’.

It was an early start and a long drive to get to the site on the Kampar peninsula, chosen because PT Arara Abadi-Siak has permits to set up plantations for acacia trees, used for making pulpwood and paper. The company is a subsidiary of Asia Pulp and Paper (APP), which is in turn owned by our old friends Sinar Mas – as well as having fingers in pulpwood, Sinar Mas is also one of the largest palm oil producers in Indonesia (not to mention a member of the Roundtable on Sustainable Palm Oil), and many of the nearby palm oil plantations have their name above the gate.

Holding on to the banner

Holding on to the banner © Greenpeace/Sharomov

Driving along the road from Sungai Pakning was deceptively pleasant – elegant wooden houses were nestled amongst lush green foliage, and kids were cycling to school. But after crossing the Siak river on the ferry, we were deep into plantation country. Rows of oil palms lined the way with their shaggy coats of ferns, and bunches of palm fruit lay by the roadside. Along one stretch, intact forest sprawled to the right while regiments of young oil palms were springing up on the left, the forest wall a thick blue line on the horizon, and a pipeline followed us all the way from ferry.

The chosen spot was a few hundred metres from the dusty, potholed road so we had to clamber over some rough terrain to get there. Dead tree stumps and rutted ground lay in our path, not to mention the swampy bogs I fell into more than once. By the time we’d finished, most of us were covered up to our knees and beyond in thick black mud. Amongst all this, acacia saplings were growing in place of the forest that once stood there.

Manoeuvring a banner of that size (40m by 20m) is no mean feat, and it took 20 of us to unroll it and pull it into shape. While we were waiting for the photos to be taken, I had a proper look around. The forest wall was just 20 metres behind me, a dense jungle of bark and foliage. I really hoped I’d get the chance to wander in, even just for a few minutes – sadly, it wasn’t to be but the whooping cries of birds and the endless insect thrum carried across the wasteland. The peatlands are a fantastic place for wildlife with one of the highest rates of biodiversity in Indonesia, and some of it came to visit us by the banner. Long, slender dragonflies and giant butterflies swoop over canvas, and a swarm of lazy green beetles seemed particularly attracted to me. It must have been the sweat dripping from me (no really, they probably drink the stuff).

A graveyard of roots

A graveyard of roots © Greenpeace/Sharomov

In front of me, it was a different story. A wasteland of greys and browns, with root systems upturned and exposed to the air, and buttress roots abandoned by the trunks they used to support. In the distance, another forest wall rose up, a small island of green hedged in between the road and the wasteland, but who knows how long it will survive. Both that tiny wedge and the forest you see in the image above also fall within PT Arara Abadi-Siak’s concession; they just haven’t been destroyed yet.

The name Jikalahari which appears on the banner alongside Greenpeace belongs to an umbrella network of various organisations dedicated to sustainable forest management in Riau, interwoven with the rights of local and indigenous people. Greenpeace campaigners in Indonesia have worked closely with Jikalahari and yesterday we held a joint press conference on the ship. The purpose of this was to reiterate our demand for a nationwide moratorium on deforestation, and support someone who’s already trying to put on in place.

Wan Abubakar, the governor of Riau, has made a decree for just such a moratorium in his province. It needs the national government to formalise it before it can be enforced, and both Greenpeace and Jikalahari are trying to make it a reality by mapping out the forests and plantations of the Kampar peninsula, which is what many of our recent helicopter flights have been in aid of. With these maps, we can establish which areas need protecting and which could potentially be restored, and of course a moratorium in Riau would lend extra pressure to a similar one across the country.

Carrying the banner alongside a canal draining water from the peatlands

Carrying the banner alongside a canal draining water from the peatlands © Greenpeace/Sharomov

But back in the field, we had the banner rolled up and halfway back to the road before the company security guards caught up with us. They weren’t keen on having their photos taken, but of course had their camera phones trained on us the whole time. After some skilful negotiation on the part of our campaigners, we were escorted out of the plantation and headed back to the ship, grubby, tried and happy.

But I still can’t help thinking about the wall of forest which towered behind me, and how long it has left.

posted by Jamie on board the Esperanza

Leave a comment »

Slash and burn in the forests of Sumatra

Now you see it...

Now you see it...

We’ve arrived in Sungai Pakning, a small port on the coast of Riau in Sumatra, and the Esperanza is anchored in a wide, silty channel running between the mainland and two islands, Pulau Bengkalis and Pulau Padang. The soupy water flowing gently past the ship will be down to the Siak river, the mouth of which is just a few miles south.

Sungai Pakning might be small, but the signs of what’s happening further inland are everywhere. Large container ships wait patiently at anchor for their cargoes and the flame at the top of a refinery lights up the night sky. For we’re on the edge of the great plantations which have come to dominate this area, both the oil palms we’ve seen so much of and, increasingly, acacia trees which are being harvested to be used as pulpwood and paper.

All these plantations are sitting on areas which used to be lowland forest growing in thick, water-logged peat. Of course, the forest is no longer there and the peat has been drained and burnt, causing the annual smog which drifts over south-east Asia during the burning season. It’s this chopping, draining and burning which is releasing colossal quantities of greenhouse gases and helping to give Indonesia the number three spot in the global emissions charts.

Tweety has been heading out on further reconnaissance missions. The rainy weather has been frustrating our efforts but John and Kasan – photographer and videographer respectively – have already made a couple of flights over the Kampar peninsula. It’s an area we’re particularly interested in because it has a large area of swampy forest which is still intact, and it was the scene of last year’s Forest Defenders Camp where dams were built and banners raised.

...now you don't. Until shortly before this picture was taken, pristine forest stood in that spot

...now you don't. Until shortly before this picture was taken, pristine forest stood in that spot

Sadly, the news is not good. As you can see from the image above, bulldozers are clearing through some of the remaining areas of forest. Just picture it: a few days (or even hours) before our camera got there, that piece of land was covered in forest which had probably been there for thousands of years. Now it’s gone, taking with it the wildlife and vegetation it harboured, and removing any possibility that local communities might be able to sustain themselves. It was happening while the helicopter flew past, and it’s still happening as you read this.

There is a chunk of peatland forest within the peninsula which enjoys protection but a quick glance at the detailed map of the area reveals that it’s encircled by logging and plantation concessions owned by companies such as Duta Palma, Asian Agri and Asian Pulp and Paper (APP, a subsidiary of palm oil giant Sinar Mas), and with illegal logging rife there’s no guarantee it will remain untouched. These are the same companies who are members of the Roundtable on Sustainable Palm Oil who, in theory at least, are not supposed to be ravaging the environment like this.

Much of Sumatra’s forests are gone. As I discovered at the seminar we held in Jakarta last week, Riau used to be awash with trees but it’s been stripped away and replaced with oil palm plantations as well as acacia for pulpwood and paper. So if that’s the case, why bother trying to save a few small areas? Because the stakes are high. The depth of the remaining peat in the Kampar peninsula is up to 15m in places, so there’s a lot of carbon locked up there. If that were all to become converted into endless monocultures, then we’re looking at a release of greenhouse gases equivalent to an entire year’s worth of global emissions.

A few weeks ago, I saw the forests of Papua and West Papua interrupted by logging roads and a few plantations, but largely they’ve been undisturbed. Here in Sumatra, the reverse is true, and the fate of the forests here could be repeated back in New Guinea.

We’re sticking around here for a few days to do some more research – I’ll let you know what we find. In the meantime, here are a few more of John’s photos from the past two days.

A bulldozer moves alongside canals used to drain peatland by palm oil company Duta Palma

A bulldozer moves alongside canals used to drain peatland by palm oil company Duta Palma

more devastation on Duta Palma land

Picking over the remains: more devastation on Duta Palma land

Oil palms stretching as far as the eye can see - another Duta Palma creation All images © Greenpeace/Novis

Oil palms stretching as far as the eye can see - another Duta Palma creation All images © Greenpeace/Novis

posted by Jamie on board the Esperanza

Leave a comment »

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.