A truck tire so big we couldn't get it out of the 

 sand. 



Large plastic soda bottles, 30 or more. 

 Drink cans, 15 to 20. 

 Plastic bags. 



Styrofoam pieces, more than 50. 



Matted fishing line. 



Twisted pieces of metal. 



Another quarter of a mile and our bags were 

 full. It was time to turn back. 



Yet, down the beach at the base of the dunes, I 

 could see at least five more soda bottles. I wanted 

 to pick them up because with each can and bottle I 

 stuffed into my trash bag 1 became more intent on 

 picking up the next. 



But our bags were full and heavy. We were 

 worried we wouldn't be able to carry what we had 

 collected back to the rendezvous point. Faced with 

 reality, we turned our backs on several more miles 

 of littered beach. 



I was angry. 



The coastal waters 1 had written about for eight 

 years, the waters that cooled us on a hot summer 

 day and yielded delicious offerings of shrimp, crabs 

 and fish were being used as garbage disposals. Peo- 

 ple were carelessly tossing their refuse aside. 



1 wanted to find every person who had left his 

 litter to linger and ask, "Why didn't you pack it 

 back?" 



Unfortunately trash doesn't bear the name of its 

 user. But it does provide clues. From the looks of 

 our litter, we had a good idea that our culprits were 

 picnickers, sunbathers, boaters and recreational 

 anglers. 



One hour and a boat ride later, we were back at 

 Wrightsville Beach talking to regional Beach Sweep 

 coordinator Andy Wood. He was busy collecting 

 data cards so the trash could be tabulated. 



Several weeks later the results were in and 

 reported to the media. More than 1,000 volunteers 

 had bagged 14 tons of trash along 150 miles of 

 beach. 



The tonnage included 33,375 plastic items, 

 18,597 Styrofoam pieces and 13,448 metal objects. 

 Paper products amounted to 10,090, glass bottles 

 and shards to 7,971, wooden objects to 3,372 and 

 rubber toys and tires to 787. 



Volunteers and organizers rated the event a suc- 

 cess and began planning for the next year. Mean- 

 while, Beach Sweep coordinators accepted a 

 national Take Pride in America award at the White 

 House. 



But it's not awards or publicity that make 

 Beach Sweep a success. It's changing the attitudes 

 and actions of people who use our beaches and 

 coastal waters that makes a difference. 



I know a walk along the beach will never be 

 the same for me again. Now, instead of collecting 

 shells or driftwood, I collect trash. 



(For details on this year's Beach Sweep, see 

 page 5.) 



Plastics — 

 Breaking Up 

 Is Hard To Do 



BY SARAH FRIDAY 



It's just like an old Western standoff. 



On one end of town are the world's plastic 

 producers. On the other end, environmentalists. 



Plastic producers manufacture the materials 

 that make our bottles unbreakable and our panty 

 hose more durable. 



Environmentalists say we're paying a price for 

 this convenience in the lost lives of marine wildlife 

 and the pileup of trash. 



Some dust flies, but there's no real shooting yet. 

 And each claims to be wearing the white hat. 



Plastic, from packaging to paint to polyester, has 

 changed our lives since its genesis in the 1930s. 

 Now it's an explosive $15 billion a year industry. 



The sturdy, yet flexible miracle material is 

 chemically engineered to last. Most of the 200 

 forms of plastic can endure up to 450 years, scien- 

 tists say. 



So the plastics we throw away don't go away. 

 They stay buried in landfills, locked in plastic bags 

 and heaped in our oceans. 



Environmentalists are worried. 



At least 70,000 tons of plastic debris are 

 dumped or lost each year in the world's oceans, 

 estimates the National Academy of Sciences. 

 Worldwide, the trash contributes to the death of 

 thousands of sea turtles, birds, seals and fish each 

 year. 



The durability of plastic has caused problems 

 on beaches, in waterways and in landfills. 



Now environmentalists and lawmakers want 



