Until a few years ago, every year in late August, I used to join the World Water Week in Stockholm. It is the leading worldwide international water event, and for me, it was mainly a moment of inspiration, project planning, and networking. Although I'm still involved with some water initiatives, I decided not to join the conference this year because it has become easier to follow meetings online since the pandemic.
In case you missed it, I just published this article in The Planet newsletter. If you have no time to read, at the very least, take a few seconds to look at the pictures I took during the Camino this summer, and the graph from NASA is also worth a look. I wish every world leader would take a few moments every day to be reminded by that graph of what they should focus on.
I didn't write much last week. There were too many other things distracting me, but those problems are solved, and as usual, I will use this Buy-me-a-Coffee platform for short updates, just a thought, or a photo I want to share with the small (but growing) group of members. BMAC is not a parallel publication to The Planet newsletter on Substack. Still, I use its email and publication functions to informally share miscellaneous pieces of my work and my writing on anything I believe you may be interested in.
The "Oosterscheldekering"
So what do I have for you today? This picture: I took it yesterday evening through the windshield of my 24-years old car (I use it so rarely that buying a new electric vehicle is more destructive for the environment than using this one for a few more years). Dutch and Flemish BMACoffee supporters will likely recognize it as the "Oosterscheldekering". Don't even try to pronounce it if you are not a native speaker. In English, it is known as the Eastern Scheldt storm surge barrier.
What I like about the photo is the symmetry, the late evening colors, and the story it tells. On the left, you see how the Dutch responded to the widespread damage and loss of life in the North Sea flood of 1953. The nine-kilometer-long storm surge barrier was initially designed and partly built as a closed dam, but after public protests, huge sluice-gate-type doors were installed for the remaining four kilometers. These doors are usually open but can be closed under adverse weather conditions. This way, the saltwater marine life behind the dam is preserved, and fishing can continue while the land behind the dam is safe from the water.
In the photo, you see some of the 65 concrete pillars of the dam that carry the 62 steel doors, each 42 meters wide. Every pillar is at least 35 meters high and weighs 18000 tonnes. The barrier has been declared one of the modern Seven Wonders of the World by the American Society of Civil Engineers.
But these days, we face new challenges. On the right of the picture, you see a much more recent phenomenon: wind turbines. In the past years, they popped up like mushrooms in a forest, and I noted that the number has significantly increased compared to only a year ago. Zeeland is a province that has for centuries fought against the water and the wind. Now we live safely behind modern dams and use the wind for our energy needs on a scale we have never done before. But challenges remain: the North Sea is on the left side of this photo, and its sea level is rising, posing new challenges for our low-lying country.
When in the Netherlands, I live in the cute village of Burgh-Haamstede, where time seems to have stood still. It's the first village you pass when you follow the route I drove when I took the picture. This evening I did what I do so often in the evenings on the island; I cycled to the beach to watch the sunset. I arrived late today, but it was still a beautiful view.