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Today I conducted an act of civil disobedience (my first in quite some time). Using a common kitty litter scoop, I peeled globs of oil from a beach, and placed them in a bucket. I defied not only the Coast Guard, but our own city manager, Phil Kamlarz, who has declared the shore off-limits.  

For days I had held off visiting the shore due to media reports that this type of act was too complicated and dangerous for the public. But with no opportunity to help officially, and nobody cleaning beaches, it was time to act.  

The good news is that a few passersby—joggers and cyclists—stopped, asked, and got involved at this very local level. The department of Homeland Security was seen only overhead, their helicopters slowing at each pass of our cleanup site, radioing commands into the distance. The bad news is that we lacked some equipment (not enough kitty litter scoopers), some discipline (it’s hard to tell someone else’s 10-year-old volunteer how to act), and we attracted others to the beach (some who ignored the signs and our warnings, and left with uncleanable toxic tar on their shoes, dogs, or kids).  

We pulled 150-200 pounds of oil off the beach, and nobody (but the unprepared) even got dirty. The oil came in globs ranging from fist size and down, mostly shiny and wet-looking. Each glob was soft and sticky, but readily rolled into a sandy ball.  

Sadly it seems as if “local” is not in the Department of Homeland Security vocabulary, and that should concern us all. We were not arrested. The officers and officials who visited us were all on paid overtime, not organizing, but spending their time chasing people from the beach. They let us continue, with a stern warning each time, on the grounds that we seemed “prepared.” 

But an organized cleanup would have had so many advantages. The area could have been roped off. The unqualified turned away. The proper technique demonstrated. And most importantly, an official effort could have leveraged the talents of hundreds of people. Imagine how much oil we could have kept off the birds.  

What do you need to take action yourself? Plastic bags, rubber bands, a kitty litter scoop, a small flat stick, and the gumption to sweet talk the officers into letting you stay. Put layers of bags over your shoes. Line a bucket with layers of bags, so you can drop oil in without touching the bucket rim. Hold your stick in one hand, the scoop in the other. Roll each bar of tar until it’s coated in sand, and flip it into the bucket. And if you’ve got extra sand, shake shake shake through the kitty scoop. Sand-covered tar will not be sticky.  

Thin rubber gloves? They’re a good idea, but frankly there’s no reason you have to touch anything. Just clean the area ahead of where you’ll walk, and avoid mashing the oil into the sand. And watch out for that tar—just a tiny bit of it spreads like wildfire over gloves, shoes, and clothes. Pat any stray globs with sand to keep them from spreading.  

Now cleaning rocks is a totally different matter—once it’s on the rocks it’s time to call the Department of Homeland Security. Let’s hope they’re listening, and let’s hope they learn how to leverage local talent before the earth starts shaking.  

Bryce Nesbitt, a Kensington resident, grew up in Berkeley.