Comino: The final depredation

I have grown to love the islet of Comino more than ever of late. The added advantage of having a group of friends who love it just as much, if not more than I do, helps as we miss no opportunity of popping over to the Last Homely House at the drop of a sun hat with only the flimsiest excuse to do so.

An island that looks deceptively barren, Comino's interior has fields and trees that are cultivated, let alone a rich red-soiled garigue that, till late June, is covered in purple thyme bushes and is as fragrant as the "perfumes of Arabia".

Din L-Art Helwa has restored the Santa Marija tower to perfection and has a group of dedicated wardens to look after it.

Walking across Comino of a sunny winter's day is sheer delight. Of course, there are a couple of abominations that need to be removed, like the pig farm and the awful fish farm just off Wied Ernu, along with a couple of concrete structures that jar horrendously.

The hotel, although on the tired side, still is well organised and offers its residents a respite from the hustle and bustle of traffic, especially in the bungalows at San Niklaw that are connected to the hotel through a scenic pathway that has been artfully cultivated with wild plants with great effect.

Comino is sheer delight and would remain so until the summer really kicks in and the huge passenger boats disgorge their daily crowds of trippers on the celestial Blue Lagoon and the hundreds of cabin cruisers moor on the ropes that hem in the part of the lagoon reserved for swimmers. There is no way that any of us would venture anywhere near the lagoon before 5 p.m. if we can help it, which is the time the large boats pack up and leave.

Walking down from near the tower to the Blue Lagoon through the fields and the stony pathways by the side of Taht il-Mazz at times makes you feel as if you are in some mythological setting and that, with a bit of effort of the imagination, a radiantly handsome Poseidon will emerge from the sapphire blue depths accompanied by his tritons blowing conches, nereids wearing coral, mermaids in golden fishtails and long-haired sea nymphs with dolphins gamboling to the upbeat of the god's trident. It is that magical.

It is therefore with shock that only last weekend the area around the entrance of the lagoon was littered in broken glass that increased in quality as we neared the lagoon itself where the banks were literally covered in the most horrendous litter of the degradable and the non-degradable type.

Half-eaten watermelon rotting in the sun and melted ice cream is the least problematical; the problem lies with the hundreds of plastic bottles and containers of all shapes and description littered everywhere around dustbins that were overflowing and pitifully inadequate for the humongous amount of people that there were at the lagoon that day.

It was highly disgusting and very distressing indeed. Couple this mess with the jellyfish invasion and we can kiss our tourist season goodbye for good and all. If the filth was bad enough, the behaviour of some of the people there was nothing short of criminal. Not content with opening their boats' bilges into the lagoon they threw stuff off into the limpid blue water with gay abandon, content that the current would waft it somewhere where they couldn't see it, which is rather like sweeping dust under the carpet.

There were, over the same weekend, two rescues too. A helicopter was hovering over the lagoon obviously called in to help a person in distress. We were informed that a couple of tourists had jumped in from a dangerous spot and severely injured themselves. There are, of course, no such things as coast guards in Comino and nowhere else for that matter. About time they were introduced along with wardens to control hooliganism and littering in a place that should be our national pride and joy; a place created by the gods for our delectation to which we have responded by abusing in the worst sense of the word.

The tower was also broken into and vandalised. Need I say more?

If Xaghra l-Hamra should be designated as a national park, the island of Comino, with its wondrous lagoon, should be our national ecological treasure. Trips to it should be strictly ecological and swimming trips and boat outings should be curtailed to preserve its unique atmosphere. Above all, if trips are organised to Comino, the organisers should be strictly responsible to ensure that all litter is cleared and taken away; every little scrap of it. It is, after all, in their interest to preserve Comino as the precious ecological jewel that it is. All other trippers should fall under the watchful eyes of ecological wardens who are entitled to fine on the spot while water police should control the influx of boats mooring any old how in the waters of the lagoon and the other bays 24/7.

Comino is after all a microcosm of what actually happens every day in Malta and Gozo. Our national attitude to our own environment is pathetically disgusting. Devoid of national pride not only for what our forefathers have created we despise the natural world with a passion. It is as if we wish to eradicate it as soon as possible and create an "easy to clean" concrete jungle without awkward jagged rocks and loamy soil, without the architectural orders that once made our stone masons world famous and, above all, without trees, which we are too, too quick in destroying on the smallest pretext. If we do not destroy them, the Department of Agriculture has this especially perverse way of pruning them and making them look like obscene phalluses.

This whole "hoohah" about the lovely trees in St John's Square is too ludicrous for words were it not too tragic. I have now heard that trees are supposed to be incompatible with a baroque environment! Where on earth did they get that one from? One need not go too far to find baroque jewels that are full of trees. Nearby Noto has a long avenue leading up to Porta Reale where you can walk under a canopy of trees and feel cool on the hottest day as one could once drive in Pietà before some bright spark truncated years and years of growth and removed all traces of green. What about the epitome of a baroque city, Rome, that teems with trees so much so that Respighi wrote a symphonic poem about the pine trees alone?

There is also this insane idea about trees that are or are not indigenous. Remember the poor oleanders that created such vibrant colour when one entered Mdina that were cut down and replaced by puny olive sprouts? The excuse was that oleanders are not indigenous! Are citrus? The Arabs brought those. Is bougainvillea? That came from the New World.

How utterly and insanely ridiculous this indigenous argument is. If any of those roots from St John's Square disturbs the rest of my ancestor (collateral please) Fra Salvatore Imbroll as he lies in his not so peaceful slumber under his marble tombstone in the co-cathedral, I will allow him to haunt me. How about that? But please, please, leave those trees alone.

No. We are utterly mad. It must be the sun or something perverse in our diet; maybe all the lead content in our food, after generation upon generation of hunters, have poured their lead pellets into our soil and poisoned our water table. I have travelled far and widely but never have I come across this particular virulent brand of hatred of the environment as there is here.

The rape of Comino epitomises all that is wrong with us; above all our hypocrisy. How can we advertise the Blue Lagoon as one of the loveliest beauty spots of the Mediterranean and then allow it to be vandalised, littered and abused and turning it into a rubbish dump. Trying to solve the environment issue in Malta is like fighting a death wish; it needs the input of professionals and it needs an iron fist in a velvet glove. The sooner the clamps and controls are implemented the better it will be for all of us. It all depends on which party has the political will to do what is right by us and which has undertaken to defend "this fair land" from further self-inflicted depredations and degradations.

kzt@onvol.net