GIGO

Surviving the Onslaught

We all like to do it -- go away on holiday, see new sights, experience the world first-hand. It's something which many of us regard as necessary for survival. The question is, can those holiday places we hold most dear survive the yearly onslaught?

The adage "leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but photographs" is an admirable one, but even these innocent activities can have profound effects. The measured tread of millions and the actinic glare of thousands of flashbulbs are enough to cow even the most exuberant of animals, damage the sturdiest of environments. These aren't the only things to suffer from tourism. Even humanity's most ambitious efforts fall prey to the ravages of the visitor: graffiti of the millennia adorn the Pyramids, the breath of the awe-struck has been enough to damage the Neolithic cave paintings of Lascaux.

There is some hope in careful management of tourists whether it's in limiting the numbers visiting precious habitats or educating visitors in appropriate behaviour at popular attractions.

Years ago, when working at Auckland's Museum of Transport and Technology, we had problems with the Tiger Moth -- people kept drumming their fingers on the fragile fabric of the plane's wings. It may not sound like a problem, but it led to cracks, which let in ultraviolet light which perished the fabric, producing tears and holes.

I replaced the ignored "Keep Off" sign with one explaining why something as simple as tapping a seemingly taut wing could end up destroying the aircraft -- and people responded. Parents would read it out to their children and, hooray, refrain from standing their toddlers on the wings for photographs.

It didn't work for everyone, but it did go some way towards limiting damage and it did teach visitors why they should take care. We all can do with more learning of that nature.

Ironically, given the ecotourism feature in this issue, I hope to visit the albatross colony while down in Dunedin at the end of the month. Perhaps if I peer cautiously over the windowsill and keep very still I can assuage a certain degree of guilt concerning my ornithological voyeurism, and not disturb the birds too much.

Vicki Hyde is the editor of New Zealand Science Monthly.