Keeping The 

 Coast Clear 



BY KATHY HART 



It was a perfect mid-September Saturday. The 

 orb overhead was shining brightly, and highs were 

 predicted in the 90s. Two friends and I were rolling 

 down the highway toward Wrightsville Beach. 



In another 30 minutes, we'd be there. Then it 

 would be time. 



Time to roll out the beach blanket, slather on 

 the suntan lotion and catch the rays, right? 



Not exactly. 



Our plan called for rubbing on the sunscreen, 

 pulling on a gardening glove and picking up a trash 

 bag. It was finally time for Beach Sweep '87. 



We'd been planning it for months. 



Lundie Spence, a Beach Sweep coordinator and 

 Sea Grant's marine education specialist, had 

 checked everything twice to make sure North 

 Carolina's largest beach cleanup was organized and 

 ready. 



But she need not have worried. A lot of people 

 had pitched in before the first piece of trash was 

 picked up. 



The four coordinating agencies— Sea Grant, the 

 N.C. Aquariums/Office of Marine Affairs, the Divi- 

 sion of Coastal Management and the Division of 

 Parks and Recreation— had donated countless hours 

 of staff time and paid printing costs for posters, 

 press kits, data cards, volunteer stickers and 

 certificates. 



Waste Management Co. and the N.C. Depart- 

 ment of Transportation supplied trash bags. And 

 Southern Golf Distributors made sure every volun- 

 teer had a pencil to record the litter. 



All that was needed now were trash gatherers. 



If everyone could have just seen the photo- 

 graphs I had, they would have had no trouble get- 

 ting themselves out of bed for a few hours of 

 cleanup. 



We had pictures of birds that had starved to 

 death because they were tangled in fishing line, fish 

 whose bodies were nearly cut in half by six-pack 

 yokes and sea turtles that had gagged to death on 

 plastic bags. 



For me, a lover of all lesser creatures, the 

 photographs were heart-wrenching. The message 

 was clear: Litter kills. 



And if the message was clear, so was the solu- 

 tion. Pick up the trash. 



So when we arrived at Wrightsville Beach, I 

 was ready to bag it. 



The first zone captain we checked with said he 

 had plenty of volunteers— a class from the University 

 of North Carolina at Wilmington and several families. 

 He suggested we go to the south end of the beach 

 and catch a boat to Masonboro Island. 



As we got back in the car, I was disappointed. 

 How much trash can there be on an uninhabited 

 island? I wanted to make an impact. I wanted to 

 bag lots of debris. 



A volunteer with a boat ferried us over to the 

 island. We took a data card, a pencil and three 

 30-gallon trash bags apiece and headed across the 

 dunes for the beach. 



There, we saw groups of trash collectors to the 

 south and north. We opted for the southern route. 



We walked close to the dune line, noticing that 

 the group ahead had fanned out close to the 

 water's edge. We could pick up the few things they 

 missed. 



We had not taken more than five steps, when 

 friend and fellow Sea Grant communicator Nancy 

 Davis found the first plastic drink bottle. And just a 

 few feet ahead of that was a partially buried Styro- 

 foam cup. 



And so it began. For the first hour, Judy Hunter, 

 our other companion, acted as recording secretary, 

 noting each piece of litter on the data card. 



"Piece of glass," I yell as I stoop to pick up the 

 broken shard. 



"Can," Nancy follows. 



"Egg carton," I say. 



Judy calls us to a momentary halt. We're pick- 

 ing up litter faster than she can mark the trashy 

 finds on the card. 



Soon we caught up with the group ahead. By 

 then, Nancy and I had each collected a bag of 

 trash. 



The group was heading back. They were out of 

 bags. Along just a half mile of uninhabited beach, 

 12 collectors had amassed 25 to 30 bags of trash. It 

 certainly didn't speak well for people who use the 

 remote island's beaches and offshore waters. 



We moved ahead. Nancy took over recording 

 duties, and Judy became trash collector. Now that 

 we were sweeping uncleaned beach, the amount of 

 trash increased drastically. 



A shoe. 



Pieces of glass. 



