The Plastic Sea: Fictional Tales of Ocean Pollution

Once, the ocean was a sanctuary.

In the halcyon days of our youth, stories taught us to perceive the sea as an ethereal kingdom of color; through movies like The Little Mermaid, Finding Nemo, and Moana, we romanticized the idea of singing mermaids, clear waters, and picturesque sea creatures.

Corals glowed. Seashells shined.

Fishes swam, proud to call it home.

But how does a haven shift into a hellhole?

The first piece of rubbish went relatively unnoticed; whispers were vaguely spread amongst the animals, as they questioned the existence of an unknown object floating around what they called their home, but most words were ignored; perceived as mere gossip.

Bubbles, the smallest and frailest of the fishes, was wary from the start, however. He eyed the foreign guest with skepticism, and swam closer, careful not to make contact with the item. It glimmered, but not in the way corals and seashells did; it swayed, but not in the way seaweed did. Later, Bubbles would learn to call it “plastic”—only because soon, it would no longer be unfamiliar.

It, unfortunately, did not take long for the ocean to turn into a dystopian world of junk. Bubbles watched with a heavy heart as the once-lonely piece of plastic multiplied into hundreds of millions of kilograms. Bags swished around like jellyfish. Turtles choked on straws.

As Bubbles aged, he came to a devastating realization—the rubbish hadn’t just appeared out of nowhere. There were despicable beings from the land above, responsible for trashing his beloved home. Bubbles was bewildered; how could someone’s heart be so cruel? He knew he hadn’t done anything wrong to hurt them, and neither had his friends, so why were they experiencing this?

But just when all hope was lost, Bubbles began to see light.

When he went up to the surface, he saw humans—the same beings he’d despised for so many years—carrying sacks and nets, collecting the pieces of plastic from the ocean that’d drifted off to the shore. Children held banners with pride, painted with pictures of his friends—whales, turtles, sharks—and three words, bright and colorful: “Save the Ocean.”

The need to clean up what is currently polluting our waters is clear, provided its current impact. Local and global organizations, companies, and initiatives are working to clean it up, but we still have a long way to go. Even though progress isn’t rapid, change is happening.

And perhaps you, Dear Reader, could make an impact. Every bottle recycled, every plastic bag refused, every cleanup joined, it all matters. Bubbles may be small, but he believes even the smallest splash can grow into a wave.

The ocean is speaking, calling out for our help. The question is: will we listen?