The clock stopped too soon: A tribute to David J.H. Phillips (1952–2014)

Marine Pollution Bulletin 91 (2015) 1–9

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Editorial

The clock stopped too soon: A tribute to David J.H. Phillips (1952–2014) It is a great sadness to report the untimely death of a long-time friend and colleague, Dr. David Phillips, who tragically passed away following a short illness on the 6th November 2014. His funeral was held in Windhoek, Namibia, on 12th November. Dave was a Marine Pollution Bulletin enthusiast and stalwart – as Charles Sheppard and I know so well, a valued contributor, thorough reviewer, the former editor of Baseline (1992–2000), and a longserving member of the Editorial Board. He was just 62 and will be sadly missed by all of us, not only for the excellence of his work, but also as one of the great characters of our science: a raconteur, rebel and loveable rogue. David Jonathan Howell Phillips (‘‘Jon’’ to his family, but always ‘‘Dave’’ to friends who knew him) was born in London on 27th June 1952. His full name hints at his Welsh roots, although as far as most were concerned, he was the only Welshman on the planet who was completely tone deaf. Dave grew up without a television, but at the age of seven saw a film of Jacques Cousteau and apparently announced that he was going to become a marine biologist. There was a slight wobble in his plans when he tried out for a professional football (soccer) team, but his heart was always set on a watery world. Following primary school, he was awarded a place in a London public school, where they only played Rugby Union; he therefore set up a football team for which effort he was apparently lauded by his teachers, although even at that tender age his temper was remarked upon in his school reports, as was the fact that he was ‘‘a leader and not a good team member’’. The fact that he was able to attend a public school on a scholarship was due very much to the combined efforts of his mother and an understanding headmistress at his earlier school. Dave, by all accounts, had to arrive early every day at school and show his homework to the headmistress. If it wasn’t up to standard (not content, but presentation) he had to re-write the entire thing before school started for the day. This explains his frustratingly beautiful handwriting; as a result, he won the scholarship his mother was so determined he would get. After passing his university entrance examinations, Dave perversely decided that, as his two sisters had gone to Oxford, he would go to Cambridge. He selected Churchill College. Perhaps totally unbelievable to those of us who knew Dave, he also only ever drank milk which was available ‘on tap’ in the college bar! Inspired by the minds he came in contact with at Cambridge, Dave read biochemistry, as there was no marine biology course available. He graduated with a BA (Honours) degree, in 1973. In the mid 1970s Dave moved to Australia, armed with a Churchill Scholarship, to undertake postgraduate work at the University of Melbourne, and to pursue his passion for marine science. Always a man who called a spade a spade (capably expressing those views

in words of one syllable often interspersed with other luridly blunt language skills), he was soon to make his mark (indeed, the makings of a local legend) in his own, inimitable, forthright, manner. It could be said that his actions at this time set the ‘‘gold standard’’ for his future attitudes to honesty in both science and environmental politics. The incident is remembered vividly by others who knew (or knew of) Dave at the time, including Nick Fisher, Kathy Burns, Don Axelrad and Des Connell. Dave was researching trace metal contamination in Port Phillip Bay and, in particular, how biota could be usefully employed as quantitative monitoring tools. In the course of his work he discovered elevated, largely industrially-derived metal concentrations in local blue mussels (Mytilus edulis), and took his concerns to his immediate seniors (extending, by some accounts, to Ministerial level). The data, of course, were considered to require ‘‘delicate handling’’ given the political situation at the time within a newly-minted State Ministry for Conservation and a fledgling Victorian Environmental Protection Authority. But Dave was determined that his material should be in the public domain. The net upshot was a ‘‘disagreement’’ with his supervisor (to say they didn’t get on is one of the world’s worst understatements), resulting in a ban from using laboratory facilities for his measurements. Although Dave didn’t often speak of it himself, over a truly excellent bottle of wine in Hong Kong, he recounted to me many of the details (including the janitor that left the upstairs lab window conveniently open at night in exchange for several beverages (presumably, not milk); how Dave climbed the drainpipe up to the lab in the black of night, slid in through the window, carefully noted all settings on the machines, performed his nocturnal analyses, reset the machines to the original settings, and shimmied back down the drainpipes before first light). His final stroke was contacting the environment reporter for The Melbourne Herald, who wrote up the story. It is a matter of record that, on the day Dave left Melbourne, the paper went to press with a huge front-page headline ‘‘Your Bay is Dying’’, complete with a photograph of a young David Phillips (Fig. 1). A book was subsequently written regarding the handling of pollution matters in Victoria by the then Government – ‘‘The Politics of Pollution’’ (Russ and Tanner, 1978). The final lines in that book are a quotation from Dave – ‘‘I do not particularly care if the politicians decide they want to pollute the environment of this country, but I do care very much if they do not tell the truth about it. I would like to see more truth and less lip service, and less lies; and it is time that in this place that people got up and said: ‘we are going to have an open industrial drain; we are going to have a polluted bay, and that’s how it’s going to be because we do not want it any other way’’’. As I said, his actions set his gold standard.

http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.marpolbul.2014.12.040 0025-326X/Ó 2014 The Author. Published by Elsevier Ltd. This is an open access article under the CC BY-NC-ND license (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/).

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From Melbourne, Dave moved to Uppsala University, Sweden, still chasing a postgraduate degree but also wishing to test the validity of sentinel organisms as bioindicators in Scandinavian waters. These early years resulted in a minor flood of papers (Phillips, 1976a,b, 1977a,b, 1978a, 1979), in which Dave established many of the basic limits to the use of shellfish as indicators of metals, including relationships between mussel-borne concentrations and those in surrounding waters, and the effects of environmental variables (including salinity) on mussel uptake. Amidst these papers are two very fine reviews (Phillips, 1977c, 1978b), which would set the scene for his later book. The work during this Australian/Swedish period, along with his early work in Hong Kong, was also instrumental to obtaining his PhD, which was finally conferred by the University of Cambridge under ‘‘Special Regulations’’ in 1982. Dave shifted to Hong Kong in the late 1970s, taking up first a position at the Department of Agriculture and Fisheries, and later as a Senior Officer in the Water Policy Division of the newlyestablished Environmental Protection Agency (EPA). In 1980, his first book was published (Phillips, 1980). Bill Langston recalls those days: ‘‘Dave first came to my attention in the mid-1970s, as marine pollution was emerging as one of the growing concerns for society. Showing the foresight to recognise that effects on humans were not the only issue, and that aquatic ecosystems require monitoring and protection in their own right (as well as helping safeguard man’s security), Dave set about a series of pioneering studies to help quantify and understand the biological availability of metals and organic pollutants in marine environments. His innovation in the field continued to develop throughout his career, but it was his ability to synthesise a broad range of ideas and approaches, in a concise and eloquent fashion, which was particularly impressive. This is highlighted by his book ‘Quantitative Aquatic Biological Indicators’ in which he explores and promotes the potential of marine organisms to act as ‘sentinels’ of contaminant bio-availability. This philosophy towards monitoring the impact and recovery of contaminant-damaged ecosystems has persisted in its appeal – and continues to evolve to the present day; bioaccumulation

surveillance typified by ‘Mussel Watch’ is now seen as a relevant adjunct to the more traditional statutory methods of water and sediment monitoring. Most of the concepts discussed in ‘Quantitative Aquatic Biological Indicators’ are thus as pertinent now to the selection and application of biological indicators as they were when this seminal book was published in 1980’’. Without doubt, Dave’s book was a seminal piece of work in the area. Sam Luoma also recalls that ‘‘I was a postdoctoral associate with Geoff Bryan at the laboratory of the Marine Biological Association during that period. Aside from the stories from his time at the laboratory (where I am not sure they understood him), Dave’s book on aquatic indicator organisms came out that year. Geoff, who was arguably the best in the world throughout his career at using indicator organisms to understand metal contamination in estuaries, was astounded that someone so young had written such a solid, timely and creative piece of work’’. Gary Denton remembers meeting Dave at a conference in Melbourne shortly after the book was published. He recalls ‘‘Dave was, understandably, very proud of it. I noticed that he came into the conference with the book tucked firmly under his arm and he referred to it extensively throughout the proceedings while challenging several speakers on the validity of their data and conclusions. One thing about Dave that quickly became apparent to me was that he pulled no punches. If he thought your work was bullshit he would tell you to your face, regardless of who you were or where you were. I watched in awe, and with some discomfort, as he repeatedly shot speakers down in flames, and I remember thinking that no one comes away from a ‘Dave Phillips encounter’ with a feeling of neutrality. You either love the guy or you hate him! There was no in between. ‘‘Naturally, Dave’s book was a focal point of our early conversations that night in Melbourne and since writing was not something that I particularly enjoyed, it was rather refreshing to meet someone who literally revelled in it. So, in the hope of gaining a few pointers from the master, I asked him if he adopted any particular strategy when composing. His reply though hilarious was undoubtedly true. He wrote the book during his evenings at home

Fig. 1. Signaling the arrival of Dave Phillip’s scientific independence, and his premature departure from Melbourne, the front page of the Melbourne Herald says it all. (The Herald, Tuesday 30th September, 1975. Sourced from the State Library of Victoria, Melbourne, Australia.)

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and his technique, though simple, was one that I could not possibly emulate, at least, not in its entirety. Dave sat at his desk with a stack of references to his left and a stash of cold beers to his right, and the more he drank the better he wrote! It was that easy – for him! ‘‘No doubt about it, Dave Phillips was not of normal ilk. After watching him at the conference earlier in the day and listening to him then, that much was clear to me. This guy was a man of extremes, capable of taking on herculean tasks both personally and professionally. In writing his book, for example, Dave claimed to have steadily churned out eleven pages a night until it was finished! He mentioned in passing that once he started any writing assignment he barely came up for air until all was done’’. That was the Dave I knew, too! And, it is true, Dave is certainly remembered by all as a man who was a law unto himself. Paul Shin remembers ‘‘Dave was instrumental in establishing the first trace metal monitoring programme using green-lipped mussels and oysters in the coastal waters of Hong Kong, similar to the Mussel Watch programme in the USA. At that time, even without much in-house support, Dave was so persuasive that he convinced the Government Chemist to assist in all metal analysis work. My memory of Dave is that he was a heavy smoker as well as a coffee drinker, such that each morning, his hand holding the coffee mug was shaking. He also ate very little except drinking beer. However, this did not hinder the quality of his work – he wrote neatly on the minutes of office files, often seemingly without much thinking, to make responses to other divisions or government departments regarding various issues related to environmental protection. At times, he also made provocative comments, based on his scientific instinct and excellent understanding of the issues, and thus might have ‘irritated’ a few colleagues. While Dave looked ‘cool’ and could be sometimes ‘controversial’ with his remarks (especially in his use of language), he was a real gentleman and treated friends genuinely, and was very helpful in providing advice when necessary’’. That’s another aspect of Dave’s complex nature that comes through in the recollections of many people. Rudolf Wu worked with Dave during his early years in Hong Kong, and remembers that ‘‘unlike most civil servants in the old days, Dave often came to work in his T-shirt and swimming trunks, and of course, a cigarette or a bottle of beer in his hand. Also unlike most civil servants, he never followed civil regulations including office hours, taking leave and observing the no smoking signs. Despite this, he was a dedicated scientist who truly loved his work, and often spent long hours in his office and laboratory after hours. Quite often, he was out diving and collecting samples during cold spells and in the filthy waters of typhoon shelters. Anything relating to metals would get him excited. Indeed, his pioneering work on metals and biomonitors has formed a landmark in our science, just as it has made a significant contribution to environmental management in Hong Kong’’. Diving was an integral part of Dave’s work and leisure time, and combined with his enthusiasm for photography, would prove to be a more than useful skill, which he employed in environments (both pristine and contaminated) around the world (see Fig. 2). Of course, not all dives went exactly according to plan. Brian Morton recalls one such event: ‘‘For the tri-annually convened marine research workshop held in the spring of 1983 at the YMCA camp at Wu Kwai Sha on the shores of Tolo Harbour, Hong Kong, Dave was appointed Dive Master. Early one morning after a particularly heavy night partying, Dave was up early as usual and down at the camp’s pier head organizing the diving gear for the day’s activities. As workshop organizer, I too strolled down to make sure the boat’s skippers all knew their destinations and plans for the day. No other divers had arrived and Dave was muttering evil thoughts as he sipped, yes, even that early, on a Carlsberg ‘tinnie’. Eventually,

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the other day’s divers staggered down the pier to join us, their casual demeanour jet-fuelling Dave’s fury. Standing, plastic rings of two remaining tinnies in hand, Dave began berating his crew in language that would have made my mother faint. The crew who, naturally, had heard it all before, continued their stroll towards him. Yet more incensed, Dave stepped back in concert with their advance and, unaware by him and un-warned by anybody of his looming destination, casually stepped backwards off the end of the pier into the sea. Surfacing, much to everybody’s wondrous joy, he continued castigating all and sundry, including God himself but, staggering up the pier steps, one could not fail to notice that he still had the two tinnies in his hand.’’ Work hard, play harder and then play harder still was always Dave’s philosophy! Dave, with his fascination and passion for biomonitoring, especially using mussels, was always a key player in the then developing ‘‘Mussel Watch’’ movement worldwide, devoting considerable energy to the implementation of suitable methods for using bivalves as routine monitoring tools. This included active consultations with UN organizations, such as the IAEA Marine Environmental Laboratory in Monaco. Scott Fowler met Dave in the early years of Dave’s involvement recalling a first meeting ‘‘when we were all genning up on Mussel Watch and all the experimental studies and field fine-tuning that went with it. Dave was one of the principal organizers of the first International ‘‘Mussel Watch’’ Workshop held in 1978 in Barcelona, Spain. There, as a young scientist in his late 20s, he admirably chaired the Trace Metals subgroup, a large international mix of marine scientists which included most of the top marine trace metal chemists at that time. The report from that meeting, ‘‘The International Mussel Watch’’ written and edited by Dave and other organizers, and published by the US National Academy of Sciences in 1980, is still occasionally cited in the scientific literature; however, the most significant output from that meeting was Dave’s detailed synthesis of the field in his classic book published the same year.’’ Scott also fondly remembers the ‘‘free-wheeling and highly animated discussions that would often take place in small groups during long lunches of wild boar and hare in the back hills along the Ligurian Sea coast of Italy, or debates in a Monegasque bar over a couple of glasses of cold rosé to lubricate and energize the grey cells; whatever, those background settings and gustatory treats certainly helped Dave distill the essence of the advantages of using bioindicator organisms over the standard chemical analyses of seawater and sediments in vogue at that time. In short, those personal, out-of-lab, interactions were very fruitful and extremely fun scientific times for me and many others, and it is now clear that at a very early age in his scientific career, Dave had a tremendous influence on what transpired internationally in the field of aquatic biological monitoring over the next three decades’’. Michael Martin also recalls meeting Dave for the first time, at the second Mussel Watch meeting in Hawaii. Trying to get a good night’s sleep before the first day of conference sessions, Michael was rudely awakened by the raucous, alcohol-fueled, cacophony coming from the next room. Tired from his travels, and disgusted with being awakened, he banged on the door to tell the occupants what he thought of them – to be confronted by Dave. The fact that they became long-time colleagues and firm friends (and Dave became Michael’s best man at his future wedding) speaks for the eventual outcome! Dave’s flood of papers continued during the Hong Kong years, with the notable inclusion of lipophilic contaminants – especially PCBs, which formed a problem in one particular area of the territory. In this work, Dave was joined by Shinsuke Tanabe and his team, who jointly produced several keynote papers (e.g., Kannan et al., 1989, 1990; Tanabe et al., 1987) on PCB congener uptake and depuration in green-lipped mussels (Perna viridis). Shinsuke

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Fig. 2. Dave Phillips collecting the green-lipped mussel Perna viridis in Victoria Harbour, Hong Kong in April 1986. Source: Phil Rainbow.

recalls meeting Dave in Hong Kong for the first time at POLMET ’85, where ‘‘he was very much an active participant, although our visit for a drinking session after the conference is still in my memory. He was very outspoken, jovial and at the same time informative about many aspects. We became close friends after that. ‘‘During this meeting Dave talked about his dream project – transplanting mussels from a polluted environment to a pristine area to study the depuration process, which we performed soon after. I had the golden opportunity of analyzing those mussels, and during the years 1988–89 we co-authored six publications in high ranking peer reviewed journals’’. Shinsuke subsequently published a book entitled ‘Bioindicators of POPs in Developing Countries’ (Tanabe and Subramanian, 2006), explaining the necessity of utilizing bioindicators for persistent chemicals. He wishes to record here that Dave’s book ‘Quantitative Aquatic Biological Indicators’ was an inspiration for him. Yes, Dave inspired many people to investigate the scientific problems that deeply interested him and that period of his life which he spent in Hong Kong was indeed one of his most productive, scientifically. But it was not solely science, of course, that kept Dave going. His colleague at Hong Kong EPA, Brian Ashcroft explains: ‘‘I first met Dave when I joined the EPA in 1981- more than 30 years ago. Dave was the intellectual leader among what was, with hindsight, a very strong team of young professionals addressing Hong Kong’s environmental challenges. He quickly became a best mate who taught a new boy from Queensland about Hong Kong and, above all, how to drink. Dave relied entirely on a liquid lunch at the Blacksmith’s Inn to sustain him through 8 years in Hong Kong’’. I too remember those lunches at the Blacksmith’s. It was a brave man who would try to keep up with Dave’s lunch-time diet. One who remembers a similar afternoon with Dave in Hong Kong is Pat Hutchings, who in 1982 had spent 6 weeks touring China with a group of students. At the end of that trip, and in Hong Kong for respite, Pat ‘‘had been given Dave Phillips telephone number, and we met up for lunch that day in a bar somewhat resembling an English pub. We talked and continued to talk all afternoon, and I ended up having dinner with Dave and his wife. It was a great relief to wind down after such a long trip in what was then a very foreign place. We had much in common not only scientifically, but amongst the many people we knew. I found him refreshingly open and honest, willing to speak his mind and a reluctance to accept rules and regulations’’.

Pat would later collaborate with Dave on ‘‘a Special Issue of Marine Pollution Bulletin (Phillips et al., 1992) on the status of the marine environment in Australia and its management, which was fun and refreshing. Basically Dave did not accept fools and was not interested in playing political games; instead he was passionate about managing the marine environment and believed that honesty was the only policy. I know some people found his colourful language, hard drinking and smoking intimidating but I feel honoured to have known him albeit intermittently over the years, and he will be missed. We need more people with the courage of their convictions to actually say what needs to be said, and his vast knowledge of marine pollution issues made his statements so spot on’’. Dave had that happy knack of forming collaborations with other like-minded researchers who complemented and enhanced his own interests (and his sometimes outrageous sense of humour). One such collaboration was with Mike Depledge, who was then at the University of Hong Kong Medical School. They would later go on to write some of the most distinguished papers on arsenic speciation, uptake and metabolism in marine organisms (Phillips and Depledge, 1985, 1986a; Phillips and Depledge, 1986b; Depledge and Phillips, 1986, 1987; Rainbow et al., 1990). As Mike recalls, ‘‘Those who knew him well were aware of how thoughtful, generous and kind he could be. As a scientific colleague, he was easy to work with. When writing papers together, we’d each agree the parts we would write, and Dave always came through with high quality text, on time, true to his word. Best of all was to discuss theoretical scientific issues with Dave. For instance, we worked together on arsenic speciation in the marine environment and related ecotoxicological effects. We talked for hours about the evolution of arsenic handling systems, and this led us to design experiments to test our ideas. But humour was never far from our activities. One study which particularly amused Dave, and which he referred to on many occasions for years, was when we were trying to find out how a large marine gastropod was able to inflate its muscular foot, and whether this might represent a novel route of contaminant uptake. With limited access to facilities, I had the inspired idea that we might incubate the snail in seawater containing a solution of black-currant jelly, with the idea that the liquid would be taken up into the snail, the jelly would set, and then we would be able to dissect the animal to see where any water cavities were located within the foot. Of course, jelly experts

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will know, it was unlikely to set, and so it proved to be. Dave could not help but find this endlessly amusing, expressing the view that whilst I might be an academic in a medical school, I knew damn all about jelly!’’ In 1985, another of Dave’s great collaborations was initiated when he first met Phil Rainbow, during which time they worked together on a consultancy contract concerning the ecotoxicological effects of the potential dumping in Deep Bay of pulverised fly ash from coal burnt in a local power station. Phil takes up the story at this point: ‘‘Dave was working for the Environmental Protection Department of the Hong Kong Government, the coal was rich in toxic selenium, and Deep Bay (paradoxically a very shallow bay) was home to the local oyster farm industry. I had known of Dave’s scientific reputation from his original work on mussels as metal biomonitors in Scandinavia in the seventies, and of course from his pioneering book in 1980. I cannot say that I was adequately prepared to meet Dave the person – whoever was? I was informed by Dave that I was to come out again in April 1986 to one of Brian Morton’s marine biological workshops, where we carried out a joint metal biomonitoring survey in Hong Kong waters involving both mussels and barnacles. We hit it off extremely well together, and I nearly learnt to cope with Dave’s ability to generate socially embarrassing situations at the drop of a hat. Our collaboration was very successful as we brought different personal and scientific skills to the relationship, and I owe Dave a great deal. The multiple biomonitor approach was to feature again in my future research in Brazil, the Gulf of Gdansk in the Baltic, as well as in the UK.’’ Phil’s collaboration with Dave was to eventually continue, for another book would be in the offing (Phillips and Rainbow, 1993). Phil says that ‘‘I was next told by Dave that I was to coauthor, with him, a revision of his 1980 book. As a busy university researcher and teacher, I did not have the time and told him so. Dave, of course, completely ignored my protests, and in 1993 our joint book ‘Biomonitoring of Trace Aquatic Contaminants’ was published, with a reprint in 1994. Later we would collaborate on other joint publications, sometimes with Mike Depledge, usually a review, a comment or a viewpoint. Working with Dave was exciting and never dull, as we discussed, argued, agreed and disagreed. We chewed the cud well into the night, although only I did the chewing, for you can’t chew Carlsberg!’’ In the late 1980s, Dave left Hong Kong for San Francisco, where he became Senior Scientist at the Aquatic Habitat Institute (AHI), which later became the San Francisco Estuary Institute. This signaled a new learning curve for Dave, as he again immersed himself in becoming acquainted with a ‘‘new local environment’’. Some old friends from mussel-watching days were also in the area, and could help – Michael Martin, then with the California Department of Fish and Game in Monterey, and Sam Luoma at the U.S. Geological Survey. Shortly after Dave’s arrival, Sam reports that ‘‘we had one of our first (if not the first) State of the Bay Conferences, run by the Estuary Institute. When I walked in, there Dave was at the front desk, in all his glory, surrounded by his minions (with a six pack discretely positioned under the sign-in table). Dave did a marvelous job of kicking off this institute, with his free spirit mode of leadership and the prodigious number of products he always produced. His solid credentials and prolific writing habits set an excellent precedent that, in fact, few of his immediate successors could duplicate. But over time that model took hold and The Estuary Institute became one of the most influential institutions working on the Bay. During his time at the Estuary Institute we saw each other at numerous meetings, and shared a few dinners and postmeeting libations. It was enough to recognize kindred spirits. In 1988 we wrote a review paper together (Luoma and Phillips, 1988)’’.

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Andrew Gunther, who worked with Dave at AHI during this period, was similarly impressed, as ‘‘Dave demonstrated his blended commitment to scientific excellence and irreverence. His sharp scientific mind and voracious intellect allowed him to produce a comprehensive and thoughtful review of toxic contaminants and impacts in the San Francisco Estuary after living in the region for only 6 months. His scholarship and persona helped form AHI with a commitment to data quality and impartial analysis that serves it to this day. He separated fact, values, and opinion, and yet used all three to push towards improved water quality and ecosystem health in San Francisco Bay. And he had fun doing it’’. Jay Davis, fresh from a Masters programme, also worked alongside Dave at this time. He observes that ‘‘Dave was a magnificent role model in many ways and demonstrated many qualities that I admire in a scientist: keen intellect, excellence in analysis and writing, a scholarly approach, collegiality, and a passion for the work. He was also passionate about other aspects of his life, family, socializing with friends and colleagues, photography, and SCUBA diving. What I found most impressive was Dave’s gift for writing. Dave was a product of a bygone non-digital era, before computers and auto-correction. Word processing was beginning to take hold at this time, but Dave couldn’t type. When Dave arrived he was immediately tasked with writing a major synthesis of information on the effects of contaminants in the Bay. I was frequently astonished to see him produce a dozen or more pages of lined yellow paper per day packed with exquisite and flawless prose. These handwritten pages were then given to a typist, and the only errors to arise would be introduced in the process of typing – the original text was perfect and eloquent. He would carefully draw the maps and graphs for his reports by hand. ‘‘Dave had a way with words, both written and spoken. He loved to use certain phrases: ‘give it heaps’; ‘six ways from Sunday’; ‘bloody hell’; and many more. He had a great sense of humour and a swagger. He liked to swear a lot in meetings. Though he was fit and athletic, he smoked quite a bit (now there’s an underestimation, Jay!), and would often have a beer at the office in the afternoon. ‘‘Dave expressed a confidence in me that emboldened me to jump into my career and take on challenging roles, and try to be a fraction as precocious as he was. Dave was the institute’s first senior scientist, and set a high standard for us as an authoritative source of synthesis of information, a convener of forums to advance shared understanding, and as authors of high quality reports to inform water quality decision-making. When he left AHI after a few extremely productive years, he went on to similar successes on larger stages. He was an exceptional human being and I am extremely grateful to have known him. His flame burned brightly. He gave it heaps!’’ During the San Francisco years, Dave also consulted for Mott MacDonald on a freelance basis, and was eventually offered a directorship by them. Sam Luoma recalls that he ‘‘was at Dave’s house for dinner not long after our paper was published, then was sad to hear shortly thereafter (on the local San Francisco news) that he had departed for fairer pastures. Making his mark and moving on was Dave’s way in those days; but the legacy of his stay in San Francisco was indelible’’. Back in the UK, Dave embarked on his consultancy years, first with Mott McDonald, and later with Acer. But the call of trace metal monitoring was still strong, leading to a conference in Denmark that is well remembered by many. Bill Langston recalls ‘‘Dave’s skills and experience had been much in demand as an advisor to environmental agencies and businesses and he played a crucial role as an Environmental Consultant to a number of major companies. Nevertheless, interest in fundamental research continued to captivate Dave’s substantial talents and intellect over the years, highlighting his exceptionally inquisitive mind, and his

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fondness and ability to engage with colleagues – often a conduit for his distinctive cavalier spirit and roguish humour. This, for me, was typified by a marvellous display of non-PC chairmanship of a meeting on trace metals in Aarhus, Denmark, to mark the achievements and contributions of our colleague Geoff Bryan. The endearing image of Dave conducting proceedings, provoking discussion and exchanging insults with assembled doyens in the metals field, whilst clutching a seemingly bottomless bottle of beer in one hand (and a cigarette in the other), is as vivid now as it was then. He will be remembered fondly by all who knew him’’. Sam Luoma similarly attended the meeting. He recalls that ‘‘it was a small workshop, 40 people or so I would guess. But the cast of senior characters there represented the absolute best biologists in the metals field; also chosen on the basis of their sense of humour I always suspected. It was our first introduction to Bill Maher who Dave somehow found support to bring in with an army of graduate students from Australia. As I recall, the proportion of graduate students to the ‘‘more experienced’’ attendees was about 1:1; the proportion of men to women was close to that; and the diversity of international talent was amazing (I was privileged to be the only American). This is a model for what a workshop should be, but few are (well. . .perhaps a little more political correctness would be necessary today). Not only was the science excellent, but it was an absolutely uproarious time from start to finish. It was Dave at his best, (or worst). I have rarely laughed so much and rarely have I not only met but felt so close to so many people when it was over. All Dave’s doing’’. At Mott MacDonald, Dave joined his old friend from Hong Kong days, Brian Ashcroft. None of Dave’s ‘‘style’’ had left him – as Brian recalls stories of Dave ‘‘delivering his first major report to a client in a stretch limo, replete with his team and Champagne, showing that both his style and ability to turn non-conformity into an art form had not diminished. ‘‘I soon needed a colleague to help grow the business in London. Who better than Dave, a friend who could always be relied upon, was always honest and was definitely always straight-forward in his advice. And so began a second professional relationship as we set the course for Mott MacDonald Environment – usually over a couple of bottles of red after work. ‘‘Dave’s candour extended to telling his bosses just what he thought, often in his own colourful vocabulary. Three years and a lot of success later Dave left Motts for predictable reasons. Also predictably, within a week he was happily working with old Hong Kong friends at Hyder. Dave’s reputation and delivery were his passport. Later I joined Dave at Hyder to set up their new environmental business in Asia. At Hyder, Dave drove a hot hatch – the ‘flying ashtray’ as it was known. Alcohol and cigarettes seemed to sustain Dave incredibly well. And so we had a third rewarding period working together’’. Peter Nuttall also remembers working with Dave at Acer, recalling that, on any one day ‘‘Dave brought real science into consulting, deep thought over implications for the environment, water and waste and air and land and ecological communities, climate change creeping in way before it became an agenda. We thought we knew it all before arriving but, because of Dave, we are re-drawing the maps, re-aligning our allegiances, questioning our role, coming to grips with our future. Dave emerges from his office, ‘I’m going for a beer, anyone joining me?’ All of us join him’’. Of course you do! It was around this time that Dave made a fleeting trip to Australia, to attend a Bioaccumulation Workshop held in Sydney. Michael Martin also attended the conference, as I had invited Michael to spend a three month sabbatical with me at Deakin University in Geelong. Dave was, of course, at his outrageous best (there was a bar right next to the conference hall – and those years of milk in Cambridge were well and truly past). Dave had another important role to play on that trip – as best man at

Michael’s wedding to his partner, Karen Smith. My wife, Anne, and I had organized the wedding as Michael had announced a week before his arrival that they had wanted to get married. The day of the wedding was a Southern Australian stinker – sparkling sunshine and a temperature over 40 °C. Anne acted as Matron of Honour; my daughter, Amber, as Flower Girl, my son, Aaron as videographer in chief, and our old VW Kombi Camper as the wedding car. The video of that day reveals Michael, Karen, Anne and Amber in all their finery, me in a kilt piping the bride into the chapel at Deakin, and Dave, looking rarely serious, in a heavy-weight English woolen suit, sweating buckets. The after-party at our house in Ocean Grove is also on tape, with us all in much more casual gear (see Figs. 3 and 4). Dave now has, as usual, a can of Fosters in one hand, and a smoke in the other, and the makings of a smile on his face. The following morning, somewhat the worse for wear, Dave and I set off at a seemingly ungodly hour in the morning so that he can drive firstly to Melbourne, then down to Warrnambool, to give two seminars. It’s well into the evening by the time we return. Early the next day, Dave has gone – I forget where – but back to the life of consulting. Keeping up with the man was near impossible. Dave finally set up his own environmental consultancy companies – Audit Environmental; Fenviron; and finally Phillips, Robinson and Associates. As time went by, Dave was consulting in Europe, the Balkans, the Middle East, Africa and Asia – life was full. Sam Luoma recalls meeting him in London ‘‘just as he started his consulting firm and he took me around to see it (yes, we did stop at the pub next door). This was not long after the collapse of the Soviet Union and he was working with some Balkan countries (Estonia as I recall) helping them set up environmental agencies. The stories from those ventures, of course, were most interesting and always seemed to include (at least in my memory) shady characters from dark bars in foreign lands’’. Now that sounds like Dave! In between his frequent travels, Dave’s life became based both at Vidauban, France, and eventually in Windhoek, Namibia, a country which seems to have ‘‘got under his skin’’ (see Fig. 5). During these last 15 years, water problems in third world countries, and the Middle East in particular, began to occupy Dave’s mind (e.g. see Phillips et al., 2007a,b, 2009) and in this regard he worked as an Advisor for Adam Smith International where ‘‘his greatest contribution was as lead technical advisor on water and environmental issues on a flagship Negotiation Support Project in Palestine. Beginning in 1999, Dave helped develop many of the key technical arguments that allowed Palestinian negotiators to present arguments to establish their water rights under international law as well as ‘win–win’ options for Palestine and Israel to share water resources under a future peace agreement. It was through this work, and his extensive time spent in Palestine over the past decade and a half, that Dave became an outstanding and committed advocate for Palestinian freedom, human rights and social justice. He leaves behind a significant legacy, a body of invaluable and detailed work and a large group of international and Palestinian colleagues who loved him dearly as a mentor, friend and brother’’ (Morrison, 2014). Tony Allan (The School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) and King’s College London), a member of Dave’s team working on Palestine and its very serious water resource challenges from 1999 to 2011, remembers Dave as follows: ‘‘It has been a rare privilege to be part of Dave Phillips’ network and to be invited over the past 15 years or so to engage in his passions. I first met him in Ramallah when he was devoting his energy to understanding the science and the legal principles of the case for fair access to waters shareable by Palestine and Israel. Dave was not just someone who focused high principle and passion. Underpinning it all was an unmatchable capacity to plan, budget, manage and communicate. Perhaps he was too good at keeping dead-lines. He paid a personal

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Fig. 4. Dave in post-wedding relaxed mode, Ocean Grove, Victoria, 1991. Source: Bruce Richardson.

Fig. 3. Dave in a familiar role, opening a bottle! Source: Bruce Richardson.

price. In addition, one so often ached that his assumption that he was indestructible would shorten the time we would enjoy working with him and be involved in the ‘dramas’ he so amusingly identified and dismissed’’. Dave did always think of himself as indestructible – it was just part of his nature. His sudden death – the result of a virulent tropical disease and subsequent secondary infection – sadly closed the door on that. Gone was the man who Paul Shin remembers in his ‘‘signature black soft-leather jacket, no matter whether summer or winter in Hong Kong’’. Gone the man Brian Ashcroft calls ‘‘one of my few life-long friends’’. Gone the man Phil Rainbow considers ‘‘one of the most generous and inspiring collaborators that I ever worked with’’; who Brian Morton remembers as ‘‘the roughest of the rough diamonds’’; who Mike Depledge remembers as ‘‘an inexhaustible source of humour and fun’’; who Bob Spies considers ‘‘a passionate, good and loyal friend’’; who Rudolf Wu considers ‘‘straightforward and simply speaks his mind’’; who Sam Luoma refers to as ‘‘an outrageous character, a fanatic worker, and effective at whatever he took on’’ and a man possessing what Bill Langston calls ‘‘a combination of enthusiasm for science, exuberance and mischievous wit, who colleagues and students would often seek out for advice and opinion’’. Here, I have to agree with a statement Gary Denton made to me, that ‘‘if I had to list a half dozen people who have played dominant roles in shaping my professional career, David Phillips would certainly be one of them. And I’m sure there are countless others out there who can say the same. Indeed, David J.H. Philips touched the lives of many, many people in his relatively short life and his contributions to science and humanitarian causes are part of the huge legacy he leaves behind for us all’’.

So how do you sum up a man who has become something of a legend in his own lifetime? A man whose life, professional and personal, reads like an unlikely script for a day-time soap opera; a man loved by many, and reviled by some. A driven man of immense complexities; a lover of science and women; a hardened drinker, a compulsive smoker; a joker, and a raconteur. A man of passions, whether scientific, political or personal. A man of peace, and a provoker of controversy. A diver, an excellent photographer; a lover of nature; obsessed by scientific detail yet able to summarize and synthesize complex topics to their most understandable form. A blunt, provocative, sometimes frustrating rogue, a rake, a romantic and a father. An adventurer who lived for where the next flight would take him, no matter how remote. A man who would see through a project, no matter how long it would take, and deliver it on time. A man for whom fact is often hard to separate from legend. A brilliant mind. A friend. So many of us gladly danced to his tune for at least a time, and enjoyed every moment of it. Men and women of passions move on, and we all did. And Dave was Dave, and moved on too. To Dave’s extended family, friends and associates, we extend our profound condolences on the void that now exists for them. Undoubtedly, Dave lived an exotic life: in the past year alone, he undertook consultancy work in places as far flung as Cameroon, South Africa, Papua New Guinea and Afghanistan. Sadly, he passed away in exotic climes in an adopted country he was passionate about. And, it’s that one word – passionate – that seems to occur so often. Perhaps nothing epitomizes this more than Dave’s love of the Great Barrier Reef, and his regular trips to Lizard Island to partake in an ongoing study of giant clams. Poignantly, Ann Hogget and Lyle Vail (directors at the Lizard Island Research Station) recall Dave as ‘‘a regular visitor, coming for a month every 18 months or so to monitor tridacnids at two extensive sites. He was due to arrive at Lizard on 15th December 2014. His incredibly neat and detailed maps are legendary. They follow the recruitment, growth

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Editorial / Marine Pollution Bulletin 91 (2015) 1–9

Fig. 5. Dave resting, smoke in hand, whilst trekking in the Fish River Canyon, Namibia. Source: Tony Allan.

and death of thousands of individuals over what would have been thirty years this year. Dave always said he’d publish this incredibly long-term study when he had 30 years of data. The clock stopped way too soon’’. Yes, indeed it did. Farewell, Dave, you were magnificent. We will remember you fondly wherever marine pollution scientists gather, and retell those many, many outrageous stories, which simply cannot be repeated here. And we will raise a glass to you. Acknowledgements I am extremely grateful to all of you who provided me with snippets from your memories of Dave, along with your tributes to him. It was impossible for me to use them all, and I take full responsibility for the end result. Indeed, at times, I have shamelessly pirated some of your words without saying from whom they came. I hope you will forgive me. Those who so generously provided material, in surname alphabetical order, were: Tony Allan (University of London); Brian Ashcroft (Queensland, Australia); Don Axelrad (Florida A&M University, USA); Kathryn Burns (James Cook University, Australia); Des Connell (Griffith University, Australia); Jay Davis (California, USA); Gary Denton (Water and Environmental Research Institute, UOG, Guam); Mike Depledge (University of Exeter Medical School, UK); Nick Fisher (Stony Brook University, New York, USA); Scott Fowler (Cap d’Ail, France); Andrew Gunther (California, USA); Pat Hutchings (Australian Museum, Sydney, Australia); Bill Langston (Marine Biological Association, Plymouth, UK); Lizard Island Research Station, Australia (including Ann Hogget and Lyle Vail, Directors, and Rick Braley);

Sam Luoma (UC Davis, California, USA); Bill Maher (University of Canberra, Australia); Michael Martin (Mariposa, California, USA); William Morrison (Adam Smith International, London, UK); Brian Morton (The University of Hong Kong); Peter Nuttall (Tasmania, Australia); Lee Phillips (UK); Phil Rainbow (Retired Head of the Department of Life Sciences, The Natural History Museum, UK); Charles Sheppard (Editor in Chief, Marine Pollution Bulletin); Paul Shin (City University of Hong Kong); Bob Spies (California, USA); Shinsuke Tanabe (Ehime University, Japan); and Rudolf Wu (The University of Hong Kong). References Depledge, M.H., Phillips, D.J.H., 1986. Circulation, respiration and fluid dynamics in the gastropod mollusc, Hemifusus tuba (Gmelin). J. Exp. Mar. Biol. Ecol. 95, 1–13. Depledge, M.H., Phillips, D.J.H., 1987. Arsenic uncouples cardiac and respiratory responses of Hemifusus tuba (Gmelin) to thermal stress. Asian Mar. Biol. 4, 91– 96. Kannan, N., Tanabe, S., Tatsukawa, R., Phillips, D.J.H., 1989. Persistency of highly toxic coplanar PCBs in aquatic ecosystems: uptake and release kinetics of coplanar PCBs in green-lipped mussels (Perna viridis Linnaeus). Environ. Pollut. 55, 65–76. Kannan, N., Tanabe, S., Okamoto, T., Tatsukawa, R., Phillips, D.J.H., 1990. Polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) in sediments in Hong Kong: a congenerspecific approach to the study of coplanar PCBs in aquatic ecosystems. Environ. Pollut. 62, 223–235. Luoma, S., Phillips, D.J.H., 1988. Distribution, variability, and impacts of trace elements in San Francisco Bay. Mar. Pollut. Bull. 19, 413–425. Morrison, W., 2014. The loss of our friend and advisor, Dr. David Phillips. Adam Smith International website tribute; . Phillips, D.J.H., 1976a. The common mussel Mytilus edulis as in indicator of pollution by zinc, cadmium, lead and copper. I. Effects of environmental variables on uptake of metals. Mar. Biol. 38, 59–69.

Editorial / Marine Pollution Bulletin 91 (2015) 1–9 Phillips, D.J.H., 1976b. The common mussel Mytilus edulis as an indicator of pollution by zinc, cadmium, lead and copper. II. Relationship of metals in the mussel to those discharged by industry. Mar. Biol. 38, 71–80. Phillips, D.J.H., 1977a. Effects of salinity on the net uptake of zinc by the common mussel Mytilus edulis. Mar. Biol. 41, 79–88. Phillips, D.J.H., 1977b. The common mussel Mytilus edulis as an indicator of trace metals in Scandinavian waters. I. Zinc and cadmium. Mar. Biol. 43, 283–291. Phillips, D.J.H., 1977c. The use of biological indicator organisms to monitor trace metals in marine and estuarine environments – a review. Environ. Pollut. 13, 281–317. Phillips, D.J.H., 1978a. The common mussel Mytilus edulis as an indicator of trace metals in Scandinavian waters. II. Lead, iron and manganese. Mar. Biol. 46, 147– 156. Phillips, D.J.H., 1978b. Use of biological indicator organisms to quantitate organochlorine pollutants in aquatic environments – a review. Environ. Pollut. 16, 167–229. Phillips, D.J.H., 1979. Trace metals in the common mussel, Mytilus edulis (L.), and in the alga Fucus vesiculosus (L.) from the region of the Sound (Oresund). Environ. Pollut. 18, 31–43. Phillips, D.J.H., 1980. Quantitative Aquatic Biological Indicators: Their Use to Monitor Trace Metal and Organochlorine Pollution. Applied Science Publishers Ltd., London, 488pp. Phillips, D.J.H., Depledge, M.H., 1985. Metabolic pathways involving arsenic in marine organisms: a unifying hypothesis. Mar. Environ. Res. 17, 1–12. Phillips, D.J.H., Depledge, M.H., 1986a. Chemical forms of arsenic in marine organisms with emphasis on Hemifusus spp. Water Sci. Technol. 18, 213–222. Phillips, D.J.H., Depledge, M.H., 1986b. Distribution of inorganic and total arsenic in the tissues of the marine gastropod, Hemifusus ternatanus. Mar. Ecol. Prog. Ser. 34, 261–266.

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Phillips, D.J.H., Rainbow, P.S., 1993. Biomonitoring of Trace Aquatic Contaminants. Elsevier Science Publishers Ltd., 371pp. Phillips, D.J.H., Hutchings, P.A., Walker, D.I. (Eds.), 1992. The marine environment and its management in Australia. Mar. Pollut. Bull. 25, 1–218. Phillips, D.J.H., Attili, S., McCaffrey, S., Murray, J.S., 2007a. The Jordan River Basin: 1. Clarification of the allocations in the Johnston Plan. Water Int. 32 (1), 16–38. Phillips, D.J.H., Attili, S., McCaffrey, S., Murray, J.S., 2007b. The Jordan River Basin: 2. Potential future allocations to the co-Riparians. Water Int. 32 (1), 39–62. Phillips, D.J.H., Jagerskog, A., Turton, A., 2009. The Jordan River Basin: 3. Options for satisfying the current and future water demand of the five Riparians. Water Int. 34 (2), 170–188. Rainbow, P.S., Phillips, D.J.H., Depledge, M.H., 1990. The significance of trace metal concentrations in marine invertebrates: a need for laboratory investigation of accumulation strategies. Mar. Pollut. Bull. 21, 321–324. Russ, P., Tanner, L., 1978. The Politics of Pollution. Visa, Victoria, Australia, 186pp. Tanabe, S., Subramanian, A., 2006. Bioindicators of POPs: Monitoring in Developing Countries. Kyoto University Press, 190pp. Tanabe, S., Tatsukawa, R., Phillips, D.J.H., 1987. Mussels as bioindicators of PCB pollution: a case study of uptake and release of PCB isomers and congeners in green-lipped mussels (Perna viridis) in Hong Kong waters. Environ. Pollut. 47, 41–62.

Baseline Editor Bruce J. Richardson E-mail address: [email protected] Available online 6 January 2015