Robert Moiseev

In recent weeks, we have lost two shining stars of Russia’s conservation movement.  On Thursday, Robert Savelievich Moiseev passed away, one day after his 70th birthday.  Robert Savelievich was the director of the Kamchatka Branch of the Pacific Institute of Geography, part of the Russian Academy of Sciences.  

Robert Savelievich’s vision of sustainable development for Kamchatka and the North Pacific was truly extraordinary.  Meeting with Robert Savelievich was always a pleasure that would result in expanding my worldview.  He had a deep and complex understanding of sustainable development, based on his background as an economist and a patriot of Kamchatka and the North Pacific.  He immediately understood the value of international connections; his vision was truly North-Pacific wide, as he understood the ties between Kamchatka and Alaska.  He was one of the primary drivers behind the ideas for the International Bering Sea Forum, which brought together community members from both sides of the Bering Sea.  

Robert Savelievich believed that Kamchatka could prosper only if it could sustainably manage its renewable resources, particularly its fisheries.  He worked with us to demonstrate the value of Kamchatka’s salmon economy.  He thought that Kamchatka’s economic priorities – which now appear to favor oil over fisheries – were terribly misplaced.  His vision, though, was always frustrated by government officials who failed to have the long-term vision that Robert Savelievich championed.  It’s particularly tragic that proposals to drill for oil off of western Kamchatka are moving forward at the same time that Robert Savelievich has passed away. 

Most of all, though, I will remember Robert Savelievich as a mentor with an incredibly keen wit, golden tongue, and sharp mind.  I remember once attending a public hearing on mining issues in Kamchatka, at which Robert Savelievich spoke.  He spoke directly after a representative from the mining company.  Robert Savelievich had the amazing ability – well-developed through the Russian scientific dialectic – to “dress down” whoever had spoken immediately prior to him.  With an amazing economy of words, he showed the gaping flaws in the arguments of the mining company and went on to offer a vision for Kamchatka far beyond what anyone could imagine.  I remember thinking to myself that I never wanted to speak directly after Robert Savelievich! 

Robert Savelievich’s vision and leadership will be sorely missed, but I am hopeful that his vision for Kamchatka and the North Pacific will live on through his writings, his colleagues, and his family – and through those of us who will continue to promote a vision of sustainable development for the North Pacific. 

Another shining star of the Russian conservation movement who passed away in late November is Boris Konstantinovich Shibnev, at the amazing age of 89.  Boris Konstantinovich led an incredible life, having been born just a year after the Russian Revolution.  He had read the works of Arseniev (the Russian analogue of John Muir) who wrote about his travels through the amazing nature of the Russian Far East (for those interested in his work, I recommend the Akira Kurosawa film “Dersu Uzala”).  After being demobilized from the Russian Navy in 1939, Boris Konstantinovich moved to the Bikin River watershed in northern Primorsky Region. 

Boris Konstantinovich was a fierce defender of the Bikin, a roadless area of 3 million acres with an amazing collection of subtropical biodiversity that is rare to find in such a northern area.  He led scientific expeditions, was a teacher who gained great respect among the indigenous Udege people, and led early non-governmental efforts.  I met Boris Konstantinovich in 1992 during my first visit to the Russian Far East.  He had created a natural history museum in his home in the village of Verkhny Pereval.  His passion and commitment to the Bikin watershed was contagious.  At the time, the Bikin was under threat from Hyundai Corporation, which wanted to log the upper headwaters.  We helped launch an international campaign that helped protect these forests from loggers. 

These two stars of the Russian conservation movement will be warmly remembered – and our partners will be working to continue their traditions by protecting Russia’s most important wilderness areas and by promoting a sustainable vision for the region.

Our policy director Doug Norlen recently attended the Western Gray Whale Advisory Panel meeting as an observer.  This panel, known as “WGWAP” for short, was set up by the World Conservation Union (IUCN) and Shell/Sakhalin Energy to make recommendations to minimize the impacts from oil and gas development around Sakhalin on critically endangered Western Gray Whales.  The primary feeding ground for Western Gray Whales is directly adjacent to Sakhalin Energy’s drilling area and two offshore platforms.  The whales are impacted from noise, construction activities, ship traffic, and potentially by oil spills. 

The idea behind the panel is a good one:  let’s bring together some of the best scientists in the world to review Shell’s plans and make recommendations to make sure that it minimizes the harm to Western Gray Whales.  This would work, if Shell took the panel’s recommendations seriously.  Unfortunately, when push comes to shove, Shell just does what it wants and ignores the panel’s recommendations. 

This is especially apparent on noise issues.  For over a year now, the panel’s scientists have asked Shell to use a certain set of noise criteria.  Shell has refused, saying this is unnecessary and could lead to shutdowns in their operations and delays of their construction schedules.  But isn’t the idea here to protect the critically endangered western gray whales?  Shell’s refusal means that it can create noise “spikes” without shutting down its operations.  Yet clearly this is not to the benefit of the whales. 

Environmentalists who were observing the construction this summer warned that a lot of noise in early July appeared to be frightening the whales away.  Shell says that its acoustic recordings either weren’t working or didn’t pick up the noise.  But since Shell refuses to abide by the panel’s reasonable recommendations, there’s no way to be sure.  Unfortunately, IUCN appears to have too close of a financial relationship with Shell to hold the company’s feet to the fire.  Meanwhile, potential public lenders, including the export credit agencies of the US, UK and Japan, have set adherence to the WGWAP recommendations as a condition of their financing.  Yet, they too appear to be letting Shell of the hook. After years of concern about Western Gray Whales, Shell is still avoiding its responsibilities to follow the advice of the scientists.   

As Sakhalin Energy plans to conduct new seismic testing in 2009 – and seismic testing can have some of the most serious impacts on whales – it is too bad that the company continues to put its construction schedules behind the well-being of Western Gray Whales.  This is just one more of the failures of the Sakhalin-II project, and one more reason the project should not be supported by public and private investors.

Sakhalin’s economy depends on fishing.  Take Aniva District, for example:  one fish inspector told me that 70-80% of the local economy is tied to fishing.  And most of that is for salmon. 

So it’s no surprise that one of the major concerns for people on Sakhalin about oil and gas development is its impacts to salmon.  Shell has been roundly criticized by environmentalists and even the Russian government for the impacts to salmon spawning streams from its pipeline construction. 

Under Russian law, companies have to pay for damages to natural resources.  So Shell provided $11 million to the Sakhalin Fisheries Agency as compensation for its damage to salmon.  Regardless of the fact that this amount is too low, I was most amazed about how the Sakhalin Fisheries Agency then decided to use this money.  The Fisheries Agency used the compensation to reconstruct an enormous fish hatchery on the Taranai River.  The reconstruction included building a barrier that blocks fish from going upriver so that all the salmon can be taken at the hatchery.  Essentially, this will destroy the fisheries in the upper part of the watershed.  

Shell and the Sakhalin Fisheries Agency should know better.  It’s much smarter to spend money to protect healthy wild salmon habitat than to build hatcheries that just lead to more threats to wild salmon.  Instead, they’ve just doubled the damage to salmon from Sakhalin-II and oil and gas development.  In the indigenous Ainu language, Taranai River means “Fish River.”  Too bad this fish river is being killed. 

Continuing our trip here on Sakhalin, we traveled north over the last few days to visit indigenous reindeer herders and indigenous fish camps.  The Uilta people in Sakhalin traditionally herd reindeer, while the Nivkh people are fishers.  Both peoples are being impacted by enormous oil and gas projects in Northeastern Sakhalin led by Shell and Exxon. 

We used a Gaz-66 – an enormous Russian truck that can pretty much deal with any road conditions – to drive out to the reindeer herders.  After getting near to the area we hiked for about half a mile through lichen, dwarf birch, and dwarf pine to find the camp.  We saw berries and mushrooms as we walked – this “forest-tundra” area was very rich.  The herders we met had about 60 reindeer.  Only about 17 Uilta continue to herd reindeer.  Indigenous peoples such as the Uilta in Russia have had to adapt to constant changes – from forced collectivization and forced resettlement into large towns under the Soviets, to adapting to the market economy and a collapse of government subsidies in the 1990s, to massive oil and gas developments on their traditional territories over the last several years.  Traditions have been lost, although a number of indigenous peoples in Russia – including the herders who we met – are trying to restore the traditions. 

The herders said that ever since Exxon built an enormous oil processing complex, the reindeer have been forced out of their traditional calving area.  The noise, lights, and constant traffic from this processing facility are too much for the reindeer.  The herders are worried about survival rates among the reindeer calves as they do what they can to increase the reindeer population. 

The Nivkh fishers are also worried about the impacts of Shell and Exxon’s projects on their traditional fishing lifestyles.  They spend the summers in fish camps spread out along the bays of Northeastern Sakhalin and come there year-round to fish saffron cod, char, and salmon.  We arrived in time to see some of our indigenous partners fishing for salmon and then shared a wonderful traditional meal.  But the Nivkh grandmothers we talked with are worried – they say that more and more often, they come across fish that have sores and blisters or that smell like oil.  They don’t know why this is, and the oil companies have refused to study the problem.  

Their frustrations with the oil and gas developments led the Nivkh, Uilta, and other indigenous peoples to blockade roads to Shell and Exxon’s projects in 2005.  As a result, Shell agreed to an indigenous peoples’ development plan that provides a council with $300,000 per year over 5 years.  But what happens after these five years are up?  In our conversations, we learned that many indigenous peoples are concerned that the money from this plan won’t really be used to help with restoring and protecting their traditional culture.  Instead, they know that they’re the ones who will stay in northeastern Sakhalin.  The oil companies will leave Sakhalin, and the native peoples will be left with the mess. 

Vasily, a reindeer herder, told us that all he really wants is “calm.”  He wants a calm place to herd reindeer and restore his people’s traditions.