For me, the Isar is one of the most beautiful river landscapes in Germany. My regular walks along the river show me that I am not alone in this opinion. I believe that we Munich residents are in a particularly privileged position to have a river of such quality and biodiversity right on our doorstep.
"The Isar and its animal inhabitants are being subjected to high levels of stress right before our eyes."
But as is always the case with love, too much of a good thing can become overwhelming. For us, the Isar is a sanctuary, a place to meet friends, to party, and of course, to swim. And while only a manageable number of people visited a few years ago, the number of sunbathers is steadily increasing, especially towards the city center. Because of this, I call the areas around the Wittelsbacher- and Reichenbachbrücke the "Munich Gold Coast." This might sound exaggerated at first glance, given that beer consumption often outweighs cheap, hard alcohol. But setting that aside—and this applies to all favorite spots—the more and more often we want to be there, the more these areas are strained, and the Isar and its animal inhabitants are subjected to high stress.
Attempts such as increased security presence and growing prohibitions are steps taken to counteract the masses, but will these measures satisfy everyone in the long run? Why not start with more education and awareness? Raising awareness about the actual biodiversity present here—that the river doesn't just carry cold, clear water, but numerous schools of fish, crayfish, and other animals. Of course, one could argue that this educational approach won't interest anyone, and certainly not from a condescending perspective. But who can blame people for wanting to end their day there after hard work?
"The Isar is a wild river, not an innocuous stream."
Education is already happening today, for example, regarding the visible pollution of the banks through (cinema) advertisements requesting people to take their trash with them—or at least place it where it can be collected. Naturally, there are also numerous information boards about biodiversity. These are often ignored for various reasons. Of course, anyone can independently research and inform themselves about the wonderful creatures living beneath the water's surface. But honestly, it has always been easier to bring information to where the people are, rather than hoping they seek it out.
I don't have a magic formula either, but I try to use film and photography to make the Isar emotionally more tangible. For anyone who wants it. For five years, I have been regularly visiting familiar spots along the Isar, diving underwater, and letting the current drift me along. While doing so, I film everything that comes before my lens. This is often a challenge because the banks are constantly changing. Where there is a sandy beach today, there might be gravel tomorrow, or the spot might have disappeared entirely.
In the water, you can almost always find spots that are over a meter deep and surrounded by rocks. Young fish, in particular, love these places. Here, one must master the balancing act of capturing life while not being a nuisance. The most important rule: take nothing, destroy nothing, just be an observer. Once you have learned how to hold yourself in the current, it doesn't take long before you are surrounded by fish, both small and large. With practiced breathing, you can stay underwater for quite a while and let yourself drift, following the flow of life. But you must never forget that the Isar is a wild river, not an innocuous stream.
"The middle of the river is almost always unreachable."
Drifting is always limited to a few meters, and the middle of the river is almost always unreachable. Harmless from the outside, the current reveals its immense strength underwater. Keeping both feet on the ground becomes an art form. This is also a major and difficult challenge for the equipment. The last thing you want is to lose it and thereby contribute further to the pollution of the Isar. After five years, I am still just as enthusiastic today as I was the first time. Being underwater is something special; after just one step, you find yourself in another world.
However, the downsides are mounting. While the biodiversity moves me, the trash found during my underwater journeys increasingly shocks me. This includes absurd finds such as a game console controller or cans of penetrating oil. Finding empty beer bottles, unfortunately, has become a matter of course. Incidentally, these finds already appear at the edge of the city, not infrequently in the company of abandoned inflatable boats. Their owners* were often happy to part with the cumbersome possessions after a one-time trip and left the boats abandoned on the shore. After the next rainfall, these were washed back into the Isar and drifted toward the next weir. Surely someone will collect them?
Actions like "Fridays for Future" have shown that many people do care about the environment. But when we speak of the looming climate change, it still feels somewhat distant in our minds. We believe we still have some time and can soon take the necessary precautions. Yet, one only needs a quick glance at the banks of the Isar to realize that we cannot even keep our own home clean.