Commentary and Opinion

COVERING TAMPA BAY AND ITS WATERSHED

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commentary & opinion

The Power of Symbols and Names

Ernie Estevez As I listened to presenters at October's Tampa Bay Area Scientific Information Symposium (BASIS 4), it occurred to me that I was in the company of keepers - keepers of powerful symbols. The Name of the Rose and Foucault's Pendulum got me interested in Umberto Eco, the Italian professor of semiotics. Semiotics is the scholarly study of symbols. Symbols are as old as conscious humanity but we continue to take them very seriously. Some of our oldest traditions, institutions, and vocations concern their definition and protection.

"Tampa Bay" has had emblematic or symbolic stature for several decades - as a brand it would be priceless. The name signifies subtropical allure, a vibrant population and economy, nature-savvy lifestyles, and more. The bay gives us a sense of place; it provides a giant, beautiful, productive, and healthy arm of the ocean, a cradle of the sea, to call home. The people attending BASIS 4 - scientists and managers, government staff and students, conservationists, and others - these are the people who protect and guard the bay itself. The bay-keepers are the keepers of the bay-symbol.

Interestingly, Tampa Bay is also a national and international "standard" (another symbolic device) for nature's rejuvenation through partnerships in research and management. Having attended the 2003 international Estuarine Research Federation conference, and intentionally seeking out reports on the status of other American and foreign estuaries, I learned that most estuaries are declining, or worse; that bay science does not always coincide with or inform bay management; and that the opposite is also true, when management programs limp forward without the benefit of basic and applied research. I found no counterparts for Tampa Bay's recovery or the interplay of research and management behind it. The transformation of Tampa Bay has acquired its own epi-symbolic or meta-symbolic quality.

Consider:

Water clarity in Tampa Bay today is as good as it was in the 1950s, despite explosive growth in the region.
As water quality has improved, seagrasses have waged a comeback, increasing by more than 4400 acres since 1982.
More than 2300 acres of estuarine habitat were restored between 1996 and 2003, including 378 acres of low-salinity wetlands, which are critical to the survival of many juvenile fish.

North and east of Tampa, out past the University of South Florida, a collection of residential and commercial developments has come to be known as "New Tampa," an appellation that looks to endure. It made me wonder about the currency and future of Tampa Bay's symbolic standing.

What if - for a fleeting moment - we entertained the provocative notion of changing Tampa Bay's name to New Tampa Bay to reflect the dramatic transformation that has occurred here? Inspired by a comment from colleague Brad Robbins, such a bold proposition would surely rankle chains.

Imagine the complexity and confusion inherent in changing a 400-year-old name.

But think of the positives. It would signal that something good and significant has happened, and that we are proud of the change. Imagine the buzz!

What I like most is that it would change the world's understanding of the bay overnight. Maps would have to be revised. Each time someone thought of Tampa Bay, their mind would stumble when recalling that it's now New Tampa Bay, and why. The privilege of changing a symbol falls to those who sacrificed to protect it. If the bay management and scientific community communicated to society at large that so dramatic and positive a change to Tampa Bay is taking place, that calling it New Tampa Bay was warranted by the facts, I'll bet it could happen.

Serving up such a far-flung idea may not endear me to traditionalists, but being provocative and bold is part of the legacy that first ushered Tampa Bay onto the road to recovery. What if we pledged in 2004 to be bold provocateurs willing to ask "What if…?" more often?

What if, indeed.

Ernie Estevez is the director of the Center for Coastal Ecology at Mote Marine Laboratory.

EDITOR'S DESK

Plays Well with Others

I got my good news fix last October at BASIS 4, listening to bay area scientists discuss what's right, what's wrong and what's happening to Tampa Bay.

Even those prone to peddling gloom and doom must admit there's plenty to celebrate. Tampa Bay's recovery is a national success story. The water is clearer than it has been in decades, and seagrasses - underwater havens for sealife - are flourishing again in many areas.

Consider also that the region bearing its name has become a hotbed for marine research, anchored on the north by the University of South Florida at Bayboro in St. Petersburg and on the south by Mote Marine Lab in Sarasota, with numerous stars in between. Tampa Bay's rising star is impossible to ignore.

But it was wetland repairman Brandt Henningsen of the Southwest Florida Water Management District who put his finger on it. As a community, Tampa Bay "plays well with others." Call it what you will, but there's no disputing that the bay's resurgence and the pace of its recovery is due in part to the largely unheralded collaboration among numerous agencies, local governments and community partners dedicated to bay protection.

Reduce the equation further and it comes down to a remarkable group of people - local government chiefs (and crew members too), scientists, citizens and business leaders - who pushed, prodded and cajoled when lesser mortals might have thrown in the towel. They continue to put the good of the bay ahead of parochial interests.

Getting them into the same room is one thing, getting them on the same page is quite another. For that we are grateful to the Agency on Bay Management and the Tampa Bay Estuary Program, organizations that have succeeded in keeping diverse interests invested in the greater good.

That's not to say our watershed isn't tarnished by a few unsavory players who "run with scissors". Topping the list are Mulberry Corp executives who left Florida taxpayers holding the bag for one of the state's costliest cleanups when they abandoned the Piney Point phosphate plant on Tampa Bay in 2001. At the very least, their penance should have included "doing time" with sponge fishermen angered by state plans to barge partially treated wastewater from the plant offshore. That burden fell to state agency reps and other bay managers forced to fill in for the perpetrators.

And yet, to borrow a regional economic development slogan, "The Climate is Right in Tampa Bay" for growing a community that values its natural resources as much as its commerce.

-Mary Kelley Hoppe