
Finding a Connection, Though a World Away
By: Alan Bisbort
December 16, 2001
According to an environmental mantra, one must think globally and
act locally. Some Connecticut residents, however, have the thinking
globally and then acting on their thoughts. Because of this, Connecticut
residents have had an impact on the environmental health of the
planet.
Jim Brunton, who is based in Westport, runs JAB Enterprises, a
computer software company whose profits drive the work of two conservation
efforts, the Pajaro Jai Foundation and Ocean Wood Gallery, which
sells “rain forest furniture” and other products created
by indigenous peoples.
The area Mr. Brunton seeks to protect is the Darien Rainforest
in Panama, and his conservation partners are the indigenous Chocoe
Indians in the village of Mogue.
Their symbol is a boat, named the Pajaro Jai (a half-Spanish, half-Chocoe
phrase describes a phoenix-like bird). This 92-foot ketch, due to
be completed in July 2002, is being built by the Indians from the
hardwoods found in the nearby forest.
Though it will become the foundation’s flagship, it is the
resurrected kindred spirit of the original Pajaro Jai, also built
by the Chocoe and launched in 1986. That vessel had a string of
environmental successes including being a driving force behind preserving
the coral reefs of Montego Bay in Jamaica, but it was lost in a
tropical storm in 1991.
“The key to everything is to let the people themselves do
the work,” Mr. Brunton said. “We can’t solve ecological
or human economic problems with Band-Aids. Money alone sometimes
brings action to a halt. I’ve seen it do more damage than
good.”
Mr. Brunton said the Chocoe are skilled with their hands, “so
the project emphasizes boat-building and furniture.”
"But, in the long run, “ he added, “we want to
create an economic development dynamic inside the culture itself,
to catapult them 20 years ahead. They’ll be eaten alive if
we don’t.”
Mr. Brunton dates his relationship with the Chocoe to 1967, when
as a Peace Corps volunteer he found himself in the Panamanian rain
forest.
"They had dignity, beauty and an intact culture, and I began
to fear that my presence was going to destroy some of this,”
Mr. Brunton said. “Fate dropped me, an ordinary person of
average morality, into an extraordinary situation. Since the cultural
disintegration would proceed with me, or without me, would it be
a cop-out to walk? Might I contribute to a healthier future in some
way?”
Almost 40 years later, Mr. Brunton is still involved with the Chocoe.
“All of this comes from my guts, from knowing these people,"
he said. “Trust is important.”
Mr. Brunton said that the products the Chocoe can produce from
a single tree in the rain forest are worth more income generated
from 40 acres of cattle grazing, and three trees can generate as
much income as a village the size of Mogue’s entire cropland.
“Despite all the awareness and efforts to do green business
in the tropics, the rate of destruction of the rain forest is increasing,
not diminishing” he said. “Something we’re doing
is wrong.”

Caring for the environment and people
By: Laurie Schreiber
January 3, 2002
GOULDSBORO - Young David Cahn, in his mid-20s, leads the way from
the Brunton family campground, Ocean Wood, down a lovely side road
to nearby Bunker's Harbor.
Sunshine shimmers off the fresh snowfall. David, a recent University
of Maine graduate, is the boyfriend of a niece of a fellow named
Jim Brunton, an affable man in his late 50s who is today wearing
raggedy, old sweats, an image of Popeye figuring prominently on
the chest of his shirt. As a highly successful developer of trouble-shooting
software, Mr. Brunton is doubtless often in button-down mode. But
don't peg him. His humanitarian impulses see him frequently in the
rain forest of Panama, helping the Chocoe Indians deal with the
incursions of Western influences; on the coast of Maine, setting
up a fishery research facility; or on the boat built by the Chocoes
under the auspices of his foundation, the Pajaro Jai, liaising with
the movers and shakers of the environmentalist world.
David works for Mr. Brunton's software firm in Westport, Conn.,
and has enthusiastically invested himself in Mr. Brunton's many
projects. This wouldn't be hard to do, given the older man's good-natured
warmth, his inspired ideas for helping others by working outside
most any box, and his ability to make them successful. It's something
of a trick to puzzle out the connections between Mr. Brunton's projects.
On the one hand, he's got boats and furniture a-building in Panama,
and on the other, he's interested in connecting fishermen, scientists
and other parties through what he says will be a state-of-the-art
research center in Bunker's Harbor. Although the venues may be worlds
apart, the connecting thread is his desire to help others by providing,
for free, a means for people to come together in the spirit of communication
and cooperation, and find ways to improve their lives and the environment
that sustains them.
Today, David is taking time to show progress on the research center,
which will be located in the former McLoon Lobster Co., just above
the public landing in Bunker's Harbor and nestled below a residence-lined
incline. A small inlet that is part of the pound was once kept flooded
by a dam topped by a wooden walkway, so that lobsters caught during
the summer could be held over for the more profitable market. The
dam has long since deteriorated; the middle portion of the walkway
has fallen into the sea.
Inside the main building, the garage is taken up by a pickup truck,
an outboard motorboat, and crates of dowels and frames, made by
the Chocoes out of wood from the rain forest, for the manufacture
of benches and chairs. As needed, Mr. Brunton helps two or three
Chocoes travel to Maine to assemble the furniture, where it is sold
in the Ocean Wood Gallery in Birch Harbor. An indigenous tribe that
lives in the Darien Rain Forest in Panama and Colombia, the Chocoes
have
developed a self-sustaining way of life but have been under fire
from many factions who seek to keep the natives from their traditional
hunting and fishing.
It has been Mr. Brunton's role, evolved since his time there with
the Peace Corps, to demonstrate how the Indians would be better
off to use tropical hardwoods - reseeding as they go - for the manufacture
of wood products, rather than burning it for firewood and to clear
farmland.
Back in the early '80s, he employed the Indians to build a sailing
ketch, the Pajaro Jai, from rain forest timber, and has since helped
them to develop the furniture-making business, with the manufacturing
end in Panama and assembly and sales in Maine.
Launched in 1981, the Pajaro Jai became the linchpin of his larger
vision, which was to create a sort of traveling Chattauqua on issues
concerning the marine environment and other ecological problems
- whatever people wanted to talk about.
The boat, Mr. Brunton says, acted as a bridge for bringing antagonists
together in an intimate setting that encourages them to find solutions.
As a traveling liaison, it allowed folks to network, bringing more
people together on what are essentially common environmental problems.
"The boat was built by poor people," he says. "It's
a beautiful collaboration between different cultures. So the boat
itself is quite inspirational. It breaks down the walls of isolation,
the usual barriers between people."
She was sailed until 1986 in the Panama region, followed by four
years off the East Coast, doing 60 to 80 events per year in the
Caribbean, New York, Boston, Washington, D.C., and the like. In
Montego Bay, Jamaica, for example, the foundation, in collaboration
with the Nature Conservancy, brought together fishermen, scientists,
environmentalists, tourist businesses, celebrities and the press
to address the challenge of preventing further deterioration of
the coral reefs, which are not only essential to the marine habitat
but also drive much of tourism and the local economy.
"It focused a tremendous amount of concern on the issue,"
Mr. Brunton says.
In the meantime, he had bought a stretch of Birch Harbor coastline
to homeport the boat. In 1990, he founded the Pajaro Jai Foundation,
to support the boat's activities. But in 1991, the boat sank in
a storm after hitting a reef, near the coast of Jamaica. A new 90-foot
sailboat, by the same name, is under construction now, also in Panama,
and is expected to be launched late next summer. Plans are in the
works to take her to Europe for a year or more, sailing to major
cities and, in conjunction with the United Nations and conservation
groups, bringing together groups on ecological and marine problems.
In its role as a connection between people, the new Pajaro Jai
will also be key, Mr. Brunton says, to attracting people to what
might otherwise seem like a remote outpost, a small research center
on the coast of Maine.
"The potential of such a facility is boundless," Mr.
Brunton writes on company's Web site (www. jabinc.org). "Imagine
scientists seeking the advice of fishermen in structuring research
projects. Projects designed not only to increase knowledge of the
oceans and fisheries but also to work in the economic dynamic in
which everything must ultimately function. Imagine fishermen benefiting
from knowledge gained by applied scientific research. The Bunkers
Harbor Research Center would create an environment where scientists
and fishermen can work on an equal footing in a combination which
will carry great weight influencing government policy, ultimately
resulting in a healthier environment and community."
The research center will be owned and administered by JAB Enterprises
and the foundation. A board to be created and overseen by the foundation
will be composed mostly of area fishermen and perhaps members from
the University of Maine. The board would be charged with ensuring
that projects have a clear goal with regard to solving specific
problems. Projects, Mr. Brunton writes, will be organized to address
"a wide range of topics with an emphasis on practical solutions
to fisheries problems, stressing: conservation of fisheries, development
of new ocean products, and economic opportunities for local communities.
One of the most important goals of this project is to create a forum
to bring together scientists, government regulators and, most importantly,
fishermen."
Accepted proposals would have use of the 2-acre pound area, 126-foot-long
dam, 2,000 square feet of dock, and a 2,400-square-foot building
free of charge. Real estate and buildings will be developed to support
research efforts.
To avoid the kind of "politics or bureaucratic tangle"
that plague other institutions, Mr. Brunton writes, research projects
will be approved by fishermen. The panel will be solicited through
contacts in the fishery and research community, initially through
the Lobster Institute. The solicitation for proposals will go out
locally at first, and, as the idea develops, open up globally.
"We think people will really want to be part of it,"
David says. "It will be a real grassroots thing."
The divide between fishermen and conservationists on the issue
of right whale protection is a perfect example of where research
might start, David says.
The renovation means moving the furniture-assembly operation. A
climb up the stairs opens onto a large room, which will be used
as the center's office. The unfinished space now has a couple of
desks, a drafting table, computer, and a draft drawing of the new
Pajaro Jai. Windows overlook the cove.
Mr. Brunton bought the property in the early '80s and, with this
project, intends to make an initial investment of a couple of hundred
thousand dollars to repair the dam and provide the resources needed
by researchers. The inlet is viewed as an ideal spot to keep live
stocks - lobster, finfish - for study. The foundation will provide
the resources needed to get projects off the ground and keep them
going.
"We'll supply the tools they need," David says.
Back at the campground, Mr. Brunton is getting down and dirty.
He's been driving a backhoe, and has just finished shifting a massive
boulder onto a steel-beam sled, ready to transport elsewhere as
a memorial stone. He explains that he likes to build, not only tangible
things but connections between people. The research center, like
the boat, he says, will be an example of how to bring various, often
opposing parties together.
"You see a lot of effort being made by government, sometimes
successful, sometimes not," he says. "Because they often
leave the people who are in the soup out of the equation, they often
fail."
Pajaro Jai, the ship, will be part of the means for making people
aware of the center.
"We'll be all over the world with the boat," he says.
"We'll have people who do marine research in Asia and Scandinavia
using the facility - free of charge. When you make something free,
people come, usually."
The center will be state-of-the-art, he says.
"We'll start simply. If we make it available, why shouldn't
someone want it? That's what happened with the boat."
With a motto of "conservation through innovation," Mr.
Brunton says the idea is to develop "wide-reaching, self-propelling,
and long-lasting solutions to the problem of natural resource destruction."
The technologies that got the world into the mess it's in can probably
be used to get it into better shape, he says.
"My parents," he says, "made me believe there's
a nobility of the human spirit, and the idea that this is a great
world we inherited, and it's not going to stay great if we don't
help it."
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