Through The Sandglass

An adventure and a hiatus

 
When you live in an archipelago, what better way to travel than by boat? And, Indonesia being the world’s largest archipelago, seafaring is undoubtedly the way to go – although with over 17,000 islands, ambitions must be modest. Since I lived here last time, I have had a desire to do a little island-hopping by boat, and now we will be off on an initial expedition – if this works well, then there are more far-flung opportunities. I guess this trip is, technically, a cruise, but the ship is quite the opposite of a typical cruising behemoth. We will be travelling on the Ombak Putih, the “white wave,” shown above – a purpose-built ship in the tradition of the old Bugis vessels that still ply their trade in these waters, perhaps twenty passengers plus crew – simple, comfortable, and good food.

The itinerary? Here’s the map:

Starting off in Bali, we will cross that icon of biogeography, evolution, and geological history, the Wallace Line, and travel east through the islands of Nusa Tenggara, ending up in Flores and Komodo (“there be dragons”). Along the way, several volcanoes, including Tambora, origin of the greatest volcanic eruption in recorded history that occurred in 1815 and resulted in the infamous “year without a summer” in Europe and North America; as a possible portent of unscheduled entertainment, Tambora has been rumbling in the last few weeks. Also en route, of course, a glorious variety of beaches – that will, at least briefly, contain slightly less sand after the visit of your humble correspondent.

 

So, I will be (blissfully) out of routine communication for week or so, but will, I hope, return refreshed and with some entertaining stories.

 

[Lombok beach image http://indonesia-oh-indonesia.blogspot.com/2011/09/south-lombok-island.html]

Sunday sand: ashes to ashes - and concrete

 
Continuing with my day out in Java, and geo-story-telling along the Cipimingkis River. The outcrops in the river are spectacular, a continuous tale of Miocene seas coming and going, leaving behind a sedimentary testament. The layers of rock crossing the river can easily be seen as the channel winds through the rice paddies in this Google Earth image:

 
I noted what a strange river the Cipimingkis is, a river not only bereft of sediment, but one whose channels have been mutilated by the excavation and removal of that sediment – sand and pebbles – leaving only pools between bare rock and the huge boulders that bear witness to the power of the river in flood.

It took me a while, but I eventually found small accumulations of sand that had not been stolen from the system, and there it is at the head of this post. A fairly nondescript-looking grey-brown sand that nevertheless tells, as usual, a tale. Typical of an immature river sand, there are grains of every size (it’s poorly-sorted), and, with the exception of the occasional grain of pale limestone, is made up entirely of bits of volcanic rock. Which is hardly surprising, for the Cipimingkis drains northward down from the slopes of one of the great volcanic edifices of western Java, Gunung (Mount) Gede. Looking upstream in this photo, in the distant haze (the contrast enhanced so as to make it visible) looms the huge – and active – volcanic massif, its location shown in the satellite image.

 

So these sands record one side of the battle of the mountains – destruction by erosion versus rejuvenation by eruption. The other thing to note about these young sands, only recently torn from the volcanic hinterlands and transported but a short distance, is that the grains are little worn, and preserve their sharp edges and angular character. They make an ideal ingredient for concrete and hence the thriving business in their wholesale extraction: the roads leading to this area are lined with piles of sand and laden trucks constantly labour ponderously along those roads. Volcanic ashes to alluvial ashes, to concrete – undoubtedly to be, one day, liberated again.

 

[Satellite image of Java from http://www.geoinfo.ait.ac.th/modis/modday2008.php]

A day out in Java

Java, 12 million years ago. The tropical seas came in and then they went out again – before coming back in again, and so on - the sands and the muds were moved around, the coastline changed – and the whole story is there to see in the bed of the Cipamingkis River as it flows through the rice paddies just sixty kilometres or so southeast of Jakarta. A perfect Sunday outing for three geologists for whom it had been too long since they last stared a rock in the face. My colleague, Sena, whom I first got to know more than twenty years ago, and who I now enjoying working with again (it being a funny old world), essentially identified these river-worn outcrops as being worthy of attention and the occasional assault with a geological hammer, and has led fieldtrips there for all and sundry for many years. We had talked for months about an expedition, and finally, as a culmination of my birthday weekend, we did it. And we did it together with my old friend Mark, a stroppy Scottish geologist, who, by good fortune, happened to be working in Jakarta before moving on to Kuala Lumpur essentially as I write.

Now another of the many things to note about Sena is that he is what can only be described as a Land Rover aficionado. He has two, both classics, and he rolled up at 6.00 am Sunday in a beautifully immaculate and lovingly maintained short wheel-base 1991 Defender; I was taken back to my days nearly forty years ago nursing and cajoling this one’s ancestor around the mountains and deserts of Oman.

To encounter so quickly the landscapes, the villages, the markets, and the general hustle and bustle of early Sunday morning in rural Java was an immense pleasure – the contrast with Jakarta’s metropolitan chaos to be savoured. Sheep, geese, rice being harvested, rice being dried, dragonflies in many different colours, simple but well-engineered bridges, and, above all, kids having fun on a Sunday afternoon down by the river.

Now, you may have noticed a couple of rather impressive panoramas among the photos above. I had treated myself to a birthday present – a quite incredible camera, the Sony a55 with a wide-angle to seriously telephoto lens. Amongst the amazing things this thing does (and that I have so far managed to understand) is to take multiple images as you pan across a scene and process them into a single, completely seamless, panorama. This is a geologist’s dream come true – no more trying to stitch together adjacent images with completely different colour and character into an amateur montage – it’s all done for you with incredible ease. Here’s another one:

 
But, being admittedly slightly obsessive on one particular topic, I have to ask: what’s wrong with this river? A hint? Where’s the sand? Or. for that matter, the gravel? Or the cobbles? The Cipamingkis is a very odd-looking river simply because all the sand, all the gravel, and all the pebbles have been removed, excavated (hence the strange pools and the absence of a clear channel), trucked away. Well, not entirely – this amazing vintage truck was still shipping rounded river stones out of the valley, probably to enhance the landscape gardening of some suburban Jakarta villa. Odd how we can manipulate landscapes. 
So, a great day out – three geologists, only four different interpretations, but a common working model: the seas come in, and the seas go out…. More of this later.

 

Sunday sand: Lang's Beach, New Zealand

I'm off on a short fieldtrip today - yes, actually looking at rocks, and sandstones in particular (undoubtedly more of that after the event). So a brief post on what is, to me, a beautiful sand from Lang's Beach on the far northeastern coast of New Zealand's North Island. The sand was collected by friends who had the good fortune to visit. Here in Indonesia, if you are asked a question such as "have you been there?" (or even of an eighty-year-old spinster "are you married?") the response is rarely a simple "no", but rather, and delighfully optimistically, "belum", not yet. Saya belum pergi ke Lang's Beach - I haven't been there yet, but it's on my list.

[Image from Goodground.com]

Before and after Irene: spot the difference

 
I hardly need comment – before Irene, I wrote the “Nourish or Retreat?” post and then she proceeded to underscore the validity of the question. The USGS has, of course, some provocative images, a number of which I have reproduced here, and we all look forward to their more detailed analysis. I shall simply introduce a gallery of selected images with some pre-Irene words from Orrin Pilkey, guru emeritus of coastal processes, extracted from an article in the Los Angeles Times in which he described how sand supplied by large magnitude storms is essential to the survival of barrier islands:

The storm that is coming up the coast here is just what the islands need. We are going to see an awful lot of buildings destroyed and an awful lot of buildings damaged, and because it's so slow-moving, there are not only going to be high winds and big waves, but they are going to last a long time. A naturalist living on a barrier island knows that protecting your house is not a good thing, because protecting your house ends up destroying the beach.

 



I’ll end with a piece from Live Science, during Hurricane Ike back in 2008 and titled “Ike Underscores Foolishness of Building on Barrier Islands.” Note that Pilkey had a few words of wisdom here too:

"Barrier islands are exposed to the open ocean, and the waves and storm surges generated by hurricanes," said Bob Morton, a geologist at the U.S. Geological Survey's Center for Coastal and Watershed Studies in St. Petersburg, Fla. "As a storm makes landfall they're the ones that are going to receive the strongest winds and the highest wave actions."

Barrier islands like Galveston are particularly vulnerable to storm damage because they are made of sand, as opposed to the hard bedrock that underlies larger islands and the mainland. They also tend to have very low elevations, making it easy for water to wash over and submerge the island.

Many have questioned the wisdom of choosing to build on and develop barrier islands, given their risks.

"Every year there's reporting on the foolishness of building on barrier islands, but people are going to do it anyway," Morton told LiveScience. "We don't learn from the past. If you look at the barrier islands on the Mississippi coast in particular, after both Hurricane Camille in 1969, and Katrina, what did they do? They rebuilt. It's a perfect example of a coastal area that did get hit as bad as it can get, and they just go back and rebuild."

Barrier islands tend to be even riskier places to live than coastal areas, because they bear the brunt of any approaching storm impact.

"If you think about their location, they're basically lonely sentinels that serve as barriers for the mainland," said Clark Alexander, a marine geologist at Georgia's Skidaway Institute of Oceanography. "Basically you're in a vulnerable spot, because you're located where you get the first effects of anything coming in off the ocean."

Setting up residence in these vulnerable spots is particularly perilous.

"From a safety standpoint, it's silly," Alexander said. "Because the lifespan of a typical house is something like 60 years. But if you live on a barrier island, you can't guarantee you'll have land under your house in 60 years. It's trying to put something permanent in a place that’s very dynamic."

As a result of Hurricane Katrina, a number of barrier islands off the Mississippi coast were completely wiped off the map. Even when storms aren't enough to raze islands completely, barriers often suffer severe damage from storms.

The 1989 Hurricane Hugo wreaked massive havoc on Pawleys Island in South Carolina. Isles Dernieres off the coast of Louisiana was devastated by Hurricane Andrew in 1992. Often, after these storms, people move back and set themselves up for disaster again.

St. George Island on Apalachicola Bay off the Florida coast "has been washed away five or six or eight times and people just keep building back their houses," Alexander said.

For many people living on barrier islands, there is no amount of structural support that can ward off the worst.

"It's important to note that in the big storms, the category 4 or 5 hurricanes, it really doesn't matter how well-constructed your building is," said Orrin Pilkey, a professor emeritus of geology at Duke University, of homes on barrier islands. "And it doesn't matter whether you have a seawall or not. The chances are pretty good that if you have beachfront property, it's history."

Isn’t it about time we seriously addressed the question of whether further expenditure of money and resources in a futile and puny effort to battle natural processes is actually worth it?

But here we go again, shifting New Jersey sand around just days after Irene.

[Thanks to the USGS, AP, CNN and other sources for the images. For more on barrier islands, just put “barrier” into the search function on this blog.] 

Sunday sand: 150 million years agglutinating

A couple of weeks ago, Sunday sand exhibited some portraits of foraminifera (forams). I will readily admit that I find these critters entrancing, and utterly fascinating in their diversity and ingenuity. And, of course, given their ubiquity in the world’s oceans, they play leading roles as biogenic components of our planet’s sands; and recent research suggests that there are perhaps 20-50 times as many foram species as previously thought. So I was delighted when Michael Hesemann took the trouble to comment at length and point readers to the Foraminifera.eu Project. I have spent some time browsing around this great site and its beautiful images, and have hardly scratched the surface; however, I was particularly attracted to the gallery of type specimens of agglutinated foraminifera, those clever little (and not so little) critters that build their homes out of any stuff that is available – sand grains, silt grains, other critters’ shells.

I wrote a post a year ago on forams, and, in particular, the agglutinating ones, with an emphasis on the spectacular collection derived from the pioneering voyage of HMS Challenger. I have made a selection from Michael Hesemann’s site for exhibition today (including the original descriptions scales, and credits), and a number of them come from the Challenger collections at London’s Natural History Museum; most are from today’s oceans, but the collection finishes with examples from the Late Jurassic of Switzerland – forams have been agglutinating for more than 150 million years.

	Rhabdammina abyssorum M. Sars, 1869     Class: Astrorhizata  Subclass: Astrorhizana  Order: Astrorhizida  Family: Rhabdamminidae Taxon Profile; found at South China Sea  off territorial waters from 3465m depth Geological Time: recent specimen provided by Prof. Jenö Nagy Collection:  Prof. J. Nagy View of one specimen of Rhabdammina abyssorum M. Sars, 1869 detailed view with diatoms as construction material (image at the head of this post)
Hormosinelloides guttifer (Brady, 1884)     Class: Nodosariata  Subclass: Hormosinana  Order: Hormosinida  Family: Hormosininae Taxon Profile; found at Challenger Station 323   off territorial waters from 3475m depth, at 50.47 W, 35. 39 S Geological Time: recent  Images are shown with permission and thanks to Michael A. Kaminski, the Natural History Museum London (copyright-holder) and Grzybowski Foundation. The images are made with the NHM Palaeontology imaging system. HMS Challenger Collection View of one specimen of Hormosinelloides guttifer (Brady, 1884)
	Hormosina globulifera Brady, 1879     Class: Nodosariata  Subclass: Hormosinana  Order: Hormosinida  Family: Hormosininae Taxon Profile; found at Challenger Station 246   off territorial waters from 3749m depth Geological Time: recent Images are shown with permission and thanks to Michael A. Kaminski, the Natural History Museum London (copyright-holder) and Grzybowski Foundation. The images are made with the NHM Palaeontology imaging system. HMS Challenger Collection View of one specimen of Hormosina globulifera Brady, 1879
Discobotellina biperforata 1     Holotype of a specimen of Discobotellina biperforata in the Collections of the Natural History Museum, London. from Moreton Bay, Queensland, Australia, a station at 4-6 fathoms    Taxon Profile Images are shown with permission and thanks to Michael A. Kaminski, the Natural History Museum London (copyright-holder) and Grzybowski Foundation. The images are made by Andrew S. Henderson with the NHM Palaeontology imaging system. Holotype specimen of Discobotellina biperforata Collins, 1958, W.J. Parr collection at the NHM, Moreton Bay, Queensland, 4-6 fathoms, 1958.11.7.810, Scale bar = 6.34 mm
	Thuramminopsis canaliculata 1     Syntypes of Thuramminopsis canaliculata Taxon Profile: in the Collections of the Natural History Museum, London. labeled as from "Zone of A. transversarius, Upper Jurassic, Canton Aargau, Switzerland, ex Haeusler Coll." Images are shown with permission and thanks to Michael A. Kaminski the Natural History Museum London (copyright-holder) and Grzybowski Foundation. The images are made by Andrew S. Henderson with the NHM Palaeontology imaging system. Syntype specimens of Thuramminopsis canaliculata Haeusler, 1883, from Brady collection (ex Haeusler Collection). 6. ZF 5197, Scale bar = 125 µm; 7. ZF 5198, Scale bar = 125 µm

 

Thanks to Michael Hesemann and the foraminifera.eu project for these wonderful images.

Extreme saltation - the movie

 
A couple of years ago, one of the great pleasures of my red Ford Mustang California dreamin’ road trip was a guided tour of the spectacular Oceano dunes by an enthusiast for, and expert on, this sea of sand. I have kept in touch with Kevin and recently received links to some videos that he has been working on. I started watching and my jaw dropped – they are extraordinary. I plan that this will be the first of a series of posts enjoying these movies, but to start, I have selected one that I find quite mesmerising. This is five minutes of closely observed moving sand, grains in exquisite detail, lit by the sun, the soundtrack the wind and the hurtling grains. I do appreciate that not everyone would find five minutes of moving sand “mesmerising” but I would venture that folk who read this blog might well. So, go to this link, crank it up to full-screen and HD (if your connection will permit), maybe make some popcorn (because, as Kevin notes, it will remind you of the action in the movie), sit back and enjoy:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BX7AZTUxwcA

Fast and furious, eh? Non-stop action, the thrill of the chase, the endless conflicts…

Now, if you feel so inclined, go back to my post on Ralph Bagnold, “The man who figured out how deserts work.” And then check out “Splashing around on Mars.” In the latter, I talk about saltation and Bagnold’s work on the movement of sand – the way in which the wind causes grains to skip and leap in graceful but frenetic and attenuated parabolic trajectories, crashing into their colleagues and sending them, in turn, on their way. This is the mechanism by which huge amounts of sand move long distances in the wind and induces the other mechanism: surface creep or reptation. Saltating grains plummet to the surface and knock others along. Watch the video again and note the wonderful way in which both of these processes are captured, the sunlight picking up the ballistics of the saltating grains and the the busy rushing crowd of their reptating friends. Bagnold illustrated his wind tunnel work and the process of saltation with the following figure (from his enduring classic, The Physics of Blown Sand and Desert Dunes, reproduced by permission of Stephen Bagnold).

This is precisely what you can watch, in glorious technicolour, in Kevin’s video.

But a word of warning: filming blowing sand destroys cameras. Here is Kevin’s dismantled (and carefully diagrammed) in the hopes of removing the penetrative grains. As he writes, “ Sand and particulates packed all the buttons to where you couldn't even press them and even worked inside the lens and between the sandwiched polarizer elements as well! Tiny little hooligans.”

I’ll end with a couple of quotes from Bagnold – as I watched the movie I found it difficult to avoid the sensation of sand as a living thing, a communal organism, on the move with a purpose. In spite of his fundamentally scientific and empirical approach, Bagnold also saw something lyrical, organic and alive in the moving dunes with “the atmosphere of instability and continual impending movement they suggested—waves that ought to heave but remained still day after day, breakers just going to break but waiting motionless till suddenly unloosed by a gale to overwhelm the intruder, sixty-mile-long worms whose notched segments one expected to see starting a concertina motion.” And “One had a feeling that something was still going on, that the old Gorgon of the myths, in destroying all forms of life as we know it, had but freed the sand to organise itself into these huge forms, and that a creeping movement, slow but inexorable, was taking place even as we were among them.”

“In 1929 and 1930, during my weeks of travel over the lifeless sand sea in North Africa, I became fascinated by the vast scale of organization of the dunes and how a strong wind could cause the whole dune surface to flow, scouring sand from under one’s feet. Here, where there existed no animals, vegetation or rain to interfere with sand movements, the dunes seemed to behave like living things.”

Thanks, Kevin.

Pulp fact - an appeal

I have recently received the devastating news that the several hundred unsold copies of the Oxford University Press hardback edition of my book are to be pulped.

This is purportedly so that the hardback "doesn't interfere with the paperback sales," but I wonder how this equation really works. Is my book clogging up valuable space in the OUP warehouse? Quite apart from my intimate personal relationship with this, the idea of pulping any book is repugnant (well, maybe I can make an exception for the countless Mills and Boon romances that provided the foundation for a stretch of British motorway). I would be relatively happy if Sand showed up in remaindered book stores, but pulped?

So, this is by way of an appeal. Does any reader of this blog have any ideas as to a better destiny for the books than toilet paper? Are there educational charitable organisations, distributors to schools in the developing world, anybody anywhere that could find a better use for them?

Needless to say, any ideas gratefully received....

Where does Singapore come from?

 
This may seem at first glance a stupid question, and the answer – Cambodia – even sillier. But it’s a fact. The tiny island nation of Singapore is home to a booming economy and the growth that goes along with it, not just commercial expansion, but physical. Singapore today is 120 square kilometres bigger than it was 50 years ago, and will grow by another 100 square kilometres over the next twenty years. And all these square kilometres can only be attained in one way – reclamation, otherwise known as filling in the sea. Filling in the sea with sand, huge volumes of sand. Singapore itself essentially has no sand, so it has to come, by one means or another, from elsewhere, and until a few years ago elsewhere was largely Indonesia. But, after the disappearance of several islands, Indonesia banned arenaceous exports. So where does Singapore go now? Cambodia – although note that Singapore does not disclose its sources. And is this all legal? Is it conducted after due environment impact assessment?  

I will simply leave the answers to these questions open, to be addressed by a recent article by Denis D. Gray of the Associated Press, that appeared in a number of publications recently, including the local English language newspaper here in Jakarta. I will, with further credits listed at the end of this post, simply take the liberty of reproducing this fascinating and depressing piece in its entirety.

 

Sand for sale; environment ravaged

By DENIS D. GRAY, Associated Press

Round a bend in Cambodia's Tatai River and the virtual silence of a tropical idyll turns suddenly into an industrial nightmare.

Lush jungle hills give way to a flotilla of dredgers operating 24 hours a day, scooping up sand and piling it onto ocean-bound barges. The churned-up waters and fuel discharges, villagers say, have decimated the fish so vital to their livelihoods. Riverbanks are beginning to collapse, and the din and pollution are killing a promising ecotourism industry.

What is bad news for the poor, remote Tatai community is great tidings for Singapore, the wealthy city-state that is expanding its territory by reclaiming land from the sea. Sand from nearby countries is the prime landfill and also essential building material for Singapore's spectacular skyline.

As more countries ban its export to curb environmental damage -- entire Indonesian islands have been all but wiped off the map -- suppliers to Singapore scour the region for what still can be obtained, legally or not. Cambodia, a poor country where corruption is rife and laws are often flouted, is now the No. 1 source.

Singapore is by no means the only nation taking part in what is a global harvest of sand from beaches, rivers and seabeds. Officials and environmentalists from China to Morocco have voiced concern and urged curbs. As construction booms in emerging economies and more sources dry up, however, exploitation of the remaining ones is likely to intensify.

Sand mining began anew in May on southwestern Tatai River, which empties into the ocean almost directly north of Singapore, across 1,300 kilometers (800 miles) of open water.

Despite denials by the main owner of sand mining rights in Koh Kong province, two Cambodian officials told The Associated Press that the sand is destined for the island nation.

Singapore will not say where its sand comes from; the Construction and Building Authority said it is not public information. The National Development Ministry said the state's infrastructure development company buys it from "a diverse range of approved sources."

The mining visible on the Tatai River clearly violates some of Cambodia's own legal restrictions, not to mention a recent government order to suspend it temporarily.

Vessels of a Vietnamese company were tracked by boat from about 10 kilometers (6 miles) upriver to the Gulf of Thailand, where nearly a dozen seagoing barges, tugs hovering around them, took on the sand.

The AZ Kunming Singapore, a 5,793-ton (5,255-metric ton) barge pulled by the AZ Orchid, was seen arriving empty from the open ocean, its tug flying a Singaporean flag. Both are registered with the Singapore government, which would not comment on the barge's cargo or destination.

Ships from several countries, including China, were spotted in sand-mining operations in Koh Kong province, where residents joked about going to Singapore and planting a Cambodian flag there.

The vessels included one from Winton Enterprises, a Hong Kong-registered group that was subcontracted to export sand to Singapore, according to Global Witness, a London-based environmental group that published a detailed account of the trade last year.

The report said that miners had penetrated protected mangrove, estuary and sea grass areas, breeding grounds for marine life along a coastline and hinterland harboring some of the country's last wilderness areas.

Cambodia's cabinet spokesman, Siphan Phay, who was investigating the issue in Koh Kong, appeared angry that the temporary halt order was being ignored. He described the activity as illegal mining destined for Singapore, a surprising statement given that government ministers awarded the concession.

A police officer in the economic crime division, who demanded anonymity given the issue's sensitivity, also said the sand is going to Singapore.

Ly Yong Phat, who holds the major concession in Koh Kong, has at times openly acknowledged the Singapore connection. But in a recent AP interview, amid tightening restrictions and mounting criticism, he said his company had not shipped sand to Singapore for more than a year because "our sand did not meet their standards."

The dredging, he added, was for local sale and to deepen river channels.

However, a Malaysian company, Benalec Holdings, said it was ready to tap up to 530,000 tons for a reclamation project in Singapore from several sources in Cambodia, including Ly Yong Phat's LYP Group.

Known as the "King of Koh Kong," Ly Yong Phat is one of Cambodia's biggest tycoons and a senator with close ties to Prime Minister Hun Sen. His holdings include hotels, a casino and agricultural plantations.

Land reclamation has enlarged Singapore by more than a fifth, and up to 100 square kilometers (nearly 40 square miles) more are slated for reclamation by 2030. What was once seabed is now Changi, among the world's finest airports, and more recently the Marina Bay complex, which includes a 2,560-room hotel and casino developed by Las Vegas Sands Corp.

Mountains of sand are needed for such fills. U.N. statistics show Singapore imported 14.6 million tons last year, ranking it among the world's top customers. Global Witness estimated that nearly 800,000 tons a year, worth some $248 million, were streaming to Singapore from Koh Kong alone.

The U.N. figures show that Cambodia supplied 25 percent of Singapore's imports in 2010, followed by Vietnam, Malaysia, Myanmar and the Philippines. With its secrecy and lax enforcement of environmental regulations, Myanmar could emerge as a major supplier.

The damage caused by sand extraction has spurred clampdowns on exports.

Malaysia imposed a ban in 1997, though the media there frequently report on massive smuggling into neighboring Singapore. Former Prime Minister Mahathir Mohamad complains that sand pirates are "digging Malaysia and giving her to other people."

An Indonesian ban came in 2007, following years of strained relations with Singapore over the sand on islands lying between the two countries. When miners finished with Nipah Island, reportedly all that was left was three or four palm trees protruding above the waterline. Environmental groups say smuggling is believed to be continuing.

Vietnam banned exports late last year.

Cambodia outlawed the export of sand from rivers in 2009 but allows it from some seabeds. Recently, some government officials said that rivers where seawater flowed into fresh water, replenishing sand naturally, were exempt.

Global Witness spokesman Oliver Courtney said the trade in Cambodia revealed a "mismatch between Singapore's reliance on questionably sourced sand and its position as a leader for sustainable development." The city-state prides itself on environmentally sound urban planning.

The dredging of the Tatai River began on May 17 "with a fury," creating a veritable traffic jam on the water, said Janet Newman, owner of the riverside Rainbow Lodge.

"Before you could see crab pots bobbing in the river everywhere and fishermen going out. Now there is nothing and nobody," the British woman said.

Chea Manith of the Nature Tourism Community of Tatai said 270 families along the river have seen an estimated 85 percent drop in catch of fish, crab and lobsters and were being forced to eke out a living from small garden plots. Tourists have all but vanished.

Armed with a petition, village leaders, tourism operators and a wildlife group met with Ly Yong Phat in early July. He appeared sympathetic, Newman said. He substantially reduced the dredging and has promised to stop altogether in October.

A subsequent letter from the Minister of Water Resources and Meteorology ordered the LYP group to halt operations temporarily on the Tatai, citing a breach of regulations. The letter was obtained by Cambodia's Phnom Penh Post newspaper, which made it available to the AP.

Hun Sen himself expressed concern over the mining in the river.

"We hoped that the prime minister's recent promise to review the impacts of the sand trade would lead to proper regulation of dredging operations," said Courtney of Global Witness. "Unfortunately, the pledge does not appear to have been followed up with meaningful action."

The mining has continued on the Tatai, and violations, such as dredging closer than 150 meters (165 yards) from riverbanks, were clearly evident.

The Post also obtained a Ministry of Industry, Mining and Energy letter extending LYP Group's concession in Koh Kong until Sept. 2012.

"We are just little people. We cannot do anything," Chea Manith said.

Newman sounded a more optimistic note. "It's my hope that the LYP Group will become sympathetic through this experience of having seen the reaction from people passionate about protecting their environment," she said. "It would be sad if they just went somewhere else to dump the same on others."

 

[Associated Press writers Sean Yoong in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia; Alex Kennedy in Singapore; Jim Gomez in Manila, Philippines; Aye Aye Win in Yangon, Myanmar; and Sopheng Cheang in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, contributed to this report.]