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Hope Amid An Oil Spill: The Artisanal Boom Movement That Sparked A Social Revolution In Mauritius

This article is more than 3 years old.

The last five months has seen some of the biggest economic, social, political and ecological disruptions in the history of the Indian Ocean island of Mauritius, once viewed as the peaceful and stable ‘Singapore of Africa.’

As new discoveries continue to be uncovered about the global ship fuel scandal that could have led to the oil spill in Mauritius last summer, activists involved remember the moments of hope and solidarity that accompanied the grassroots response to the spill.

This has now sparked a large social movement on the island that is disrupting the existing political structures of the country, much like the youth-led ‘Arab Springs’ of a decade ago across the Middle East.

In many ways, the Wakashio became the Tahrir Square of Mauritius, after the famous Egyptian gathering spot that brought the Egyptian people together in 2011 in central Cairo.

The giant Japanese Bulk Carrier Wakashio operated by Japanese shipping giant MOL, remained stranded on Mauritius’ coral reefs for 12 days at the end of July. The country heard assurances from the ship owners, the private salvage company appointed by the vessel’s insurers, and the Mauritian Government that the situation was under control.  Then the massive spill occurred on August 6.

In the absence of a coordinated plan or sufficient resources from the shipping company, local volunteers were forced to step up to protect their island.

While some volunteers focused on saving some of the world’s most endangered creatures trapped in nature reserves surrounded by oil, others looked at protecting the coastline from the oil.

The self-organized grassroots movement involving local fishermen, residents and community groups who designed, built and rolled out several miles worth of oil protection booms. These booms were hand stitched using materials from local hardware stores and filled with dry leaves from the sugar cane harvest. 

Local community groups had even discovered that the unique properties of human hair could prevent the spread of oil. When they had run out of hair in Mauritius, they had then reached out internationally to contact hair dressing shops in France and Australia to send over batches of cut hair to trap the oil and act as giant sponges in an effort to prevent the oil from being absorbed deep into the sandy beaches and the internationally protected coastal mangrove forests of South East Mauritius.

Five months on, amid Christmas celebrations around the world, many of those in the poorer fishing villages in South East Mauritius continue to face tremendous hardship as they are prevented from fishing in the once pristine coral lagoons of Mauritius. These poorer communities have not yet received any comprehensive health assessments of their exposure to the oil, nor have they received the funding promised to make up for lost income due to the oil spill, as they are in the informal and secondary layer of workers impacted by the oil spill (e.g., food suppliers to the hotels, beach hawkers, tourist car rental firms). They are not even aware of what chemicals were mixed to make up the oil that was leaked - an experimental type of fuel called Very Low Sulfur Fuel Oil which was only introduced into shipping in January 2020.

One of the most active groups in the region during the oil spill was a local Mauritian community group called Rezistans ek Alternativ. They had helped with the spontaneous building of the artisanal oil protection boom movement. Their spokesperson, Ashok Subron, described how this movement sparked a glimmer of hope for the island nation to build back better following the oil spill. 

And then what happened when the powerful oil and shipping interests linked to the Wakashio began interfering into the domestic affairs of the island nation.

1. Who are Rezistans ek Alternativ?

Ashok Subron: We are an eco-social movement in Mauritius. We are well known for standing up for environmental issues, particularly in protecting Mauritius’ beaches and unique ecology. We are also known for speaking up against sectarianism and promoting a more united and peaceful pan-Mauritian identity among our multicultural population.

We also work closely with labor organizations on social issues. In particular with ocean-related worker organizations, such as fishing and tourism boat captains, workers in the tuna fisheries industry and seafarers. Our work covers trade unions who represent around 25,000 of the Mauritian workforce.

2. What was your initial reaction to the grounding of the Wakashio on July 25?

Ashok Subron: We were deeply shocked and disturbed. This turned into fear and anxiety as the giant ship sat on our coral reef for 12 days

We were deeply shocked that the Wakashio was directly approaching the shore of Mauritius and took the direction it did toward the Mauritian coast and hit the reef without any action by the Government.

Putting the public interest first was not at the forefront of decision-making by the Government. This raised many concerns among the people. For the first time, the people of Mauritius realized we had one of the largest ocean territories in the world (in the top 20 largest ocean zones), and yet one of the largest ships in the world could point itself for several days and hit our reef without the country being able to do anything.

We were deeply disturbed that for 12 days before the oil spill, the Government abdicated its responsibilities to other powers and darker interests. No matter what agreement was signed with other parties [referring to the agreement signed with the vessel’s insurers], the Government has a duty to protect its citizens and the environment. We were also deeply shocked and disturbed by the inaction, amateurism and opacity of the Government during the whole process and even until now.

But we did have one window of hope from the solidarity that developed locally and internationally in the early days of the response to the oil spill.

The critical moment was on August 6. That was when our biggest fears started to materialize, and it was the moment that brought us all together.

3. How did the local community respond to the August 6th oil spill?

Ashok Subron: We were initially shocked that the oil could have been allowed to leak from the ship. But seeing the Government and private contractors not taking the actions they needed to, we immediately started to work out what we could do. As a result, I can describe the oil spill response as happening over three phases.

The initial response occurred in the first few hours and days as we worked out what we could do and what we were dealing with.

The second phase was the wonderful six weeks of collaboration, ingenuity and solidarity as the community took over control of the oil spill response from the Government authorities, and started building trust and transparency with the community. We built a movement that was so much more effective than the top-down approach the Government and their international consultants had attempted initially.

And then came the darker third phase, that has been marked with a complete lack of transparency and the exclusion of the local community during the clean up phase.

Let me explain each in turn.

Shock and disbelief – phase 1

The leakage started in the morning of August 6. We were all in shock, and had been waiting for a response from the authorities. Over the course of the day, none came and oil continued to flow from the ship.

Our community activists couldn’t sit still and watch this happen to our island. We needed to do something to save our coral lagoon.

After researching online and contacting international organizations, one of our activists, David Sauvage, had the idea of building home-made, artisanal booms.  It would at least give us a chance to protect the coast than watching all the oil leak onto Mauritius’ pristine coastline.

By the end of August 6, oil was already washing up along our shores and still leaking from the Japanese ship. 

There was no protection in place over the course of the first day of the spill, and a major shortage of oil protection booms.  We had no idea whether the artisanal booms would work or not, but we had to try.

Rezistans ek Alternativ activists deployed on the night of August 6. Taking the plans from David Sauvage, our activists called the owners of local hardware stores in Mahebourg late at night to open up and asked for key construction equipment, nylon ties and sugar leaves.  It was fortunate that the sugar cane harvest was happening in August, and so we had abundant supply of excess sugar cane leaves we could use from local sugar factories.

By 4am on August 7, we had designed our first home-made oil protection boom.  As the sun started to rise - which is the time the local fishermen would usually be heading out to the lagoon to fish - they and the local inhabitants of Mahebourg came by to help with the boom-building efforts.

After seeing the oil wash up on the shore all day on August 6, with no protection by the authorities or international consultants brought to the country, we had to act. Our beaches had been golden and sandy just the previous day, and were not drenched in thick, black, lumpy oil that stuck to everything and was suffocating all life beneath it.

We had no idea how to stitch such large booms, but local fishermen had this knowledge. They taught us how to stitch the home made booms to withstand the pressures of the ocean.

Large nylon ties from the construction industry were bound together to form the main structures of the oil protection booms.

By August 7, the local community had come out and were collectively helping us build the booms, with the local fishermen who are used to sewing their nets, teaching us how to create binding ties that would withstand the ocean waves.

Empty and clean plastics bottles were used to assist with the buoyancy of the booms, to ensure they did not sink once saturated with water and oil.

August was the time of the annual sugar cane harvest. Local farmers and volunteers were able to collect bales of dried sugar cane leaves that we could use to stuff inside each oil protection boom.

Hundreds of volunteers helped stuff the sugar cane leaves into the booms, and within an hour, we could complete the construction of each boom.

The production took over all of downtown Mahebourg in the early days, before spreading to shopping malls and sugar factories across the island over the subsequent days. The entire downtown Mahebourg was filled with dried sugar cane leaves, nylon ties and hundreds of volunteers rushing to do what they could to protect the lagoon. We all had one objective, and worked as one unified team.

In order to ensure the ends were secure and the booms did not split, it took teams of two. One would hold each side together as the other would stitch and ensure the seam could not split in the water. If just one seam split and the boom failed, it would allow the oil to spread. Every stitch had to hold.

We perfected a technique where we would roll over the edges of the nylon, and inserted plastic bottles to assist with buoyancy. It took all of us to roll the boom together so we could stitch these.

Various construction materials were used to help anchor and keep the artisanal booms in place. Each day, the tides risked moving the booms, so we had to ensure they could be anchored for an unknown period until the authorities were able to develop a plan to collect the oil and stop the spread.

We quickly filled up all the oil drums that were brought to the coastline by volunteers. Most of the pumping in the early days had to be done by hand as there was insufficient pumping equipment to get the thick patches of oil out from the lagoon.

There was so much oil that we quickly filled up the oil drums that we were using to mop up the oil from the lagoon. The smell was toxic - it was like we were breathing fumes directly from a petrol station. Many complained about headaches and nausea. The fumes were also burning volunteers’ eyes who were directly exposed to the oil in the water. We encouraged who we could to wear masks, but the smell still came through.

Next, we had no idea whether these booms would even float or hold back the oil. Again, the local fishing and skipper community were able to help.

They brought their boats and dive equipment, and took a boom into the lagoon to place it to see if it would work. To everyone’s relief, it did. 

We could clearly see that one side collected oil and the other was clean.

The Government had waited for 12 days for expensive international oil responders who had been flown in from abroad and had not taken any action, but within 24 hours, ordinary people of Mauritius had stepped up and had a working boom. The Mahebourg population saw what we did and also rose to the occasion to defend their town.

This is where the hope started.

Hope and solidarity – phase 2

Over the course of the day on August 7, hundreds of islanders appeared spontaneously. Volunteers came to offer what they had - clothing to stitch, sugar cane leaves, even human hair.

What started as an experimental artisanal boom on August 7, soon engaged the entire local community and then the entire country.

The boom construction engaged entire families. Children would come along to assist. This gave great hope seeing how much the younger generation cared about protecting the lagoon.

The entire community was involved from tour boat operators to local fishermen. They knew the personal health and economic risks they were taking. They could see the heavy ship oil damaging their vessels, but they all knew protecting the lagoon was more important.

Ordinary Mauritians with wooden fishing boats and tourist boats were used to roll out the artisanal booms across the coral lagoon.

Each boat usually had a team of at least three who could ensure the booms were well placed to protect the coastline and ensure the oil did not spread even further into some of the most protected nature reserves and pristine sandy beaches.

The booms served their purpose in trapping some of the heavier sediments of oil, that allowed other volunteers to scoop these out of the water. However, as the booms became saturated with oil, some flecks started appearing on the other side.

Over the course of the day on August 7, hundreds of islanders appeared spontaneously. Volunteers came to offer what they had - clothing to stitch, sugar cane leaves, even human hair.

The hundreds on August 7 turned into thousands over the weekend of Saturday August 8, 9 and 10. They came from across the country to build artisanal booms.

Other artisanal boom efforts started in towns, shopping malls and sugar estates across the country and brought the booms to the South East.  It was an incredible feeling of unity for the people.

Soon, we ran out of nylon ties, and had to resort to clothing. This took another wave of volunteers over the weekend of August 8 and 9 and the following week who donated clothes and helped stitch more booms in the sugar cane fields around the oil spill.

These efforts were so large they could even be tracked by space from satellites.

The satellite tracking helped form a picture to understand which booms were working and where any gaps may lie with the deployment of the booms (such as with Blue Bay Marine Park).

From August 10, even as oil continued to flow from the ship, they tried to restrict our access to Mahebourg waterfront by designating it as a restricted zone. But there was mass civil disobedience. The entire population defied the attempt to restrict us from building artisanal booms. The Government could not take Mahebourg Waterfront from us.

The Government had to hand back the people-led boom construction. It became a people workshop. Local fishermen and the community got together and self-organized to assemble, quality check and deploy the booms along different parts of the lagoon as protection from the Wakashio oil.

Families came from across the country. They brought nylon, clothing and other construction materials needed for the boom. It was one of the greatest solidarity moments in Mauritius’ history. A true citizens’ movement, coming together for Mahebourg and Mauritius. We had all come together and worked out a solution. There was no centralized leadership to have gotten this done.

It showed the ingenuity of the local population, and that the Government didn’t necessarily always know best

It showed to me that even in times of disaster, there was also hope and positive energy that could help us rise up to the challenges we faced.

Civil disobedience

When the community had come together to build the booms, it was one of the country’s most important movements of openness and public control during the entire Wakashio episode.

Neither the Government nor any of the Wakashio-related agencies or insurers could control what was happening to the oil spill. People decided how many booms, where to place the booms - especially the sea people like the skippers and fishermen. It was people directed and there was open-ness and trust.

It was also more effective than what the authorities had tried to do for the first 12 days the boat stayed on the reef and what they had attempted to do to respond to the oil spill.

In parallel, there was also mass civil disobedience. People were angry toward the political and business elites who were unable to respond to this disaster.

This led to the public outpouring of angry, which was unprecedented in the country. The first was a demonstration in Port Louis on 29 August 2020 that was led by social activist Bruneau Laurette. This attracted 150,000 people onto the streets of Mauritius. We had never seen anything like this before. It was historic and showed the strength of feeling and anger of what had been allowed to happen to our country.

The second demonstration took place on 12 September by the location of the oil spill in Mahebourg, with oil still around the coast. Working together with Bruneau Laurette and other local community groups, we helped mobilize and organize the local community around Mahebourg.

Over 100,000 people marched at these protests. This was the first time such an ecological consciousness was felt collectively in the country.

It was an important moment for six weeks. Then we got shut down. This was the repressive third phase of the oil spill response.

A third protest march to mark 100 days since the oil spill had to be cancelled after the Government prevented this from taking place. Our rights to protest and express ourselves were being restricted.

4. What was your experience of the oil spill clean up?

Ashok Subron: After the people led-containment of the oil spill, we had been hoping for the same approach to the clean up phase.

We had wanted the same open and public process to move to cleaning process itself, especially around the sensitive areas of the mangroves and beaches.

This did not happen. 

The same closed process that we saw prior to the oil spill when the Japanese ship lay on our reefs for 12 days, we saw happening again. The same opacity had restarted that had led to the disaster in the first place.

We immediately started noticing that the community were being excluded from key decisions in the clean up process. The Government-engineered mechanism allowed no openness or public disclosure of the cleaning and its aftermath. It was privatized and dark. 

It was led by companies associated with the Wakashio, and did not offer the transparency or inclusiveness of the local community who had taken risks and deployed the oil protection booms across the lagoon.

This process has continued from mid-September until New Year. In Mahebourg, the private clean up organizations funded by the ship’s insurers took 200 fishermen to manually clean the oil.

They have spent the last four months attempting to clean oil from the mangroves, beach and coast. Now this week, the Government decided to re-open Blue Bay to tourism. They have done this before the stern of the Wakashio has been removed. Oil is still found in multiple regions, reappearing every few days as it is trapped deep in the sediment. There is no independent scientists reviewing this, and we are completely in the dark.

The Government is seeking to open tourism. They wish to organize a large regatta with a music festival. It would be a disaster waiting to happen. This was done to coincide with the visit by the Japanese Minister of Foreign Affairs.

Many are asking the question: is the lagoon really clean to allow people to swim? 

All we know is that none of the scientific tests have been independently verified. Mauritius has a National Environment Lab under the Minister of Environment. The Cabinet made a decision to open the beaches without the consultation of the National Environment Lab. Until now, there has been no integrated monitoring plan. The Government has still not published any details on the necropsies of the dead dolphins and whales. We are all very worried about the opening of the beaches.

The opacity has become a mirage that is being attempted together with Japan’s Minister of Foreign Affairs to pretend all is OK. Mauritius is becoming a pawn in a bigger game.

We don’t want Mauritius to be part of this. We don’t want the oil spill to be part of a bigger geopolitical or military strategy.

We want the protection of the lagoon and a peaceful country.

5. Why did the oil spill mean so much to the people of Mauritius?

Ashok Subron: The oil spill had hurt the social metabolism that linked Mahebourg and Mauritius to the lagoon and the ocean.

It was the first time I had seen adults crying at the waterfront.

The lagoon is one of the most precious treasures of Mauritius. It is our legacy for future generations. The ocean is core to the cultural DNA of an island people. We feel a symbiotic link and kinship with the ocean.

Seeing the oil spill was like watching something very important being killed.

This is what compounded the impact of the oil spill. 

There was a psychological impact of the oil spill - not just for us in Mauritius, but for Mauritians all over the world who saw what was happening to their island. Our coral lagoons had always provided hope for the nation.

We reacted as if someone was killing the island.  It was a hurt to our body as it was to the ocean.

6. What would you like the legacy of the Wakashio to be for Mauritius?

Ashok Subron: The lagoon and nature are core to the identity of Mauritius.

The rights of nature must be protected in our constitution.

We cannot stand by and allow nature to be destroyed in the way the Wakashio did. This is also the problem with our current economic model of over-development of coastal regions that is being led by the business and political elites.  The six weeks of hope when the population came together to protect the lagoon shows how much nature means to the population of Mauritius.

The unprecedented size of the demonstrations showed the strength of feeling between the people and the ocean. We need a new Mauritius and a new relationship between the State and the Ocean.

The Wakashio was a disaster, but the hope from this tragedy is that we can build a better Mauritius.  One that is more inclusive and respects the rights of nature.

The struggle goes on.