Hope floats on eco-celebrity's recycled plastic boat, Plastiki

David de Rothschild talks about his most dramatic adventure yet: He's readying a sailing vessel, Plastiki, made entirely of recycled plastic for an 11,000-mile journey west into the Pacific. One key stop: a massive, floating plastic junkyard in the middle of the ocean that is the direct result of mankind's polluting ways.



SAN FRANCISCO — There's one big problem with Plastiki.
Sure, the 60-foot catamaran made entirely out of recycled plastic looks majestic enough propped on a wooden pedestal here inside cavernous Pier 31.

But the boat is too small.

Not for the 11,000-mile voyage due to kick off next month, out the Golden Gate and across the Pacific to Sydney Harbor. But rather too confining for its peripatetic creator, David de Rothschild, the 31-year-old eco-celebrity (and scion of Europe's fabled banking family) whose mission is to forever change the way the world sees polyethylene terephthalate — aka plastic.

GREAT GARBAGE PATCH: Birds and boats in danger in Pacific
"Um, it's going to get pretty tight in there," says the 6-foot-4 adventurer, peering into a crew-of-six living area the size of an SUV. "Three months at sea. Wow."

Normally, three months in the life of de Rothschild finds him ping-ponging across the globe, from a London home to his New Zealand organic farm to this Bay Area headquarters, where for two years he and a couple of dozen workers have been conjuring ways to repurpose everyday plastic into an ocean-going yacht.

Their point: If the world continues to create 260 million tons of plastic products each year, it's critical to find ways to reuse the non-biodegradable material.

Otherwise, some of that trash can wind up bobbing in a spot Plastiki will soon set sail for, weather and sea-trials permitting: the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, a borderless swath of floating debris that sprawls across much of the Pacific. It is symbolism at its simplest, a boat made of recycled plastic plying a sea of wasted plastic.

For de Rothschild, the Plastiki Expedition combines adventuring with activism.

"I saw what climate change was doing firsthand when I had to be pulled off the ice during a trek across the Arctic in 2006 because there was too much melting," says de Rothschild, a horse jumper turned environmentalist. His lean good looks have enhanced his appeal as host of the Sundance Channel's Eco Trip: The Real Cost of Livingand helped him nab the Hottest Guy in Green title last year from the eco-bloggers at EarthFirst.com.

"But the truth is, few can get emotional about carbon dioxide," he says. "So a light bulb went off for me. It's about waste, yes, but the kind we can touch. The kind that's an eyesore."

Risk rides shotgun

Plastiki is by far the most high-profile project from de Rothschild's Adventure Ecology, which aims to raise the awareness of climate issues. This one already has scored news media coverage in more than 30 countries. Nickelodeon's British website has carved out a permanent niche for Plastiki, while National Geographic Adventure has dedicated a full-time blogger.

As with any endeavor, risk rides shotgun. Plastiki's hull and crew will be tested by harsh seas and fickle weather. "It'll be a challenge. There are big storms and a lot of floating junk out there," says Charles Moore of the Algalita Marine Research Foundation, whose research trips to the area over the past decade have been laced with peril.

Some of the crew's challenges will be self-imposed. The cramped nature of the geodesic cabin means the sailors will be hard-pressed to find privacy, which may come only from hopping on a bicycle straddling the pontoons. Its pedal power converts to electricity.

There will be enough food for three weeks plus emergency rations. Though there will be island layovers, de Rothschild and crew will mostly fish for their supper and collect rainwater for hydration. "There's a certain degree of self-sufficiency," he says. "But otherwise, we're definitely out there on our own."

It's precisely de Rothschild's bold approach to promoting plastic awareness that has caught the eye of fellow environmentalists and corporate executives alike.

"Pushing people to confront climate issues requires a range of actions, from policy changes to projects like David's," says Josian Heyerdahl, 26. She's the granddaughter of Norwegian ethnographer Thor Heyerdahl, who in 1947 sailed a balsa raft named Kon-Tiki— Plastiki's inspiration — west from Peru to show that early South Americans, and not just Asians sailing east, could have populated Polynesia.

A consultant on environmental issues based in San Francisco, Heyerdahl will join the crew on a final leg of the sail.

"My grandfather's journey affected the way people thought about the world," she says. "David using adventure for an eye-opening purpose hit home with me."

For three decades, Virginia architect William McDonough has been a leading voice on sustainability issues. He applauds de Rothschild's effort "to help the world hit the reset button" on plastic.

"Little things can start big things," says McDonough, co-author (with Michael Braungart) of Cradle to Cradle: Remaking the Way We Make Things. "I love plastic, but I think there's a way to enjoy our packaging and have it be a part of a new design cycle that's about reuse."

Eureka moments

These days, that notion is less revolutionary and more just good business. And great PR.

Among companies contributing money or products to the project — whose cost is in the unspecified millions — are Swiss watch giant IWC Schaffhausen and Hewlett-Packard.

"More than anything, the sheer passion and energy that David brings to this venture got us excited," says David Roman, vice president of worldwide marketing at H-P, which beyond funding also provided boat-design technology and an array of onboard computing equipment. (De Rothschild and his crew plan to document their voyage via live blogs and video shorts at theplastiki.com.) "He really makes you think one person can change the world."

The propelling force of that huge personality came in handy over the past few years. The boat gleaming under artificial lights in Pier 31 went through a crucible of false starts, personnel changes and vexing design challenges.

A few eureka moments stand out. One was discovering how to make rigid the otherwise crushable bottles that adorn the flanks of Plastiki's pontoons, there as much for effect as to cushion the blow from punishing waves.

Turns out, when you place a little dry ice powder into a bottle and cap it, the powder turns to gas, expands and makes the receptacle as solid as a brick. So the gang dropped powder into 12,000 bottles — by hand.

Another breakthrough was even more critical. Where most boats today are made from fiberglass — among the least environmentally friendly materials — Plastiki is constructed entirely of srPET, an acronym for self-reinforcing polyethylene terephthalate. The green material takes the form of a woven fabric with impressive tensile strength.

"There were many times when we couldn't see the end, but David has this unwavering zeal," says Plastiki project manager Matthew Grey. "He's just matter-of-fact: 'This will happen.' "

Sitting on the dock of a bayside pier, de Rothschild bites into a chicken sandwich and shrugs.

"If we arrive in Sydney, sure, that will be a success," he says, washing the sandwich down with some coconut milk. "But the process really is as important as the adventure.

"Our project is a catalyst for a global conversation," he says. "People hear it's a kid from a wealthy European family with a beard who's an environmentalist (and think), 'Surely this must be a stunt.' But I'm not afraid of drawing fire. Our culture has slowly disassociated itself from nature. But that's a model that has failed us. We must rethink it."

'I'm more excited than scared'

Just over de Rothschild's slim shoulders, almost taunting him, sits a gargantuan cruise ship. The floating building is, energy-wise, the antithesis of Plastiki, which will be powered by the wind and sun (though the crew is mulling an emergency outboard).

De Rothschild admits he can't be sure his boat will survive Pacific storms. "Of course, I'm scared, but the truth is I'm more excited than scared," he says.

But, pointing to a few small pleasure boats plying the bay, he has hopes for a practical legacy.

"Why can't these little sailboats be made of srPET? Making that change would be a huge leap, getting away from fiberglass and making use of our old plastic," he says, eyes alight.

That sort of wishful thinking seduced Jo Royle, who signed on to skipper Plastiki after a sailing trip through Antarctica revealed garbage in that icy paradise. "David can help people see we're all environmentalists and should make do with less," she says.

Royale has just nailed Plastiki's mission. Much like Heyerdahl's bold Kon-Tiki voyage made people rethink historical tenets, so de Rothschild has a chance to capture hearts and headlines with his crusade to reassess the way we deal with plastic waste.

"Our boat is just one giant floating water bottle," he says.

This simple image, de Rothschild adds, could be enough to shift people's attitudes toward recycling and the environment.

That, however, just may be a tougher feat than crossing the Pacific in a sleek piece of srPET.

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