On-the-ground project site visits are critical to evaluating a project’s potential for inclusion in our investment portfolio. While we use the latest technologies, from geospatial imagery to bioacoustics, to help evaluate and monitor projects, there’s only so much tech can do. Seeing a project and meeting key stakeholders in person helps us to strengthen relationships, receive direct feedback, and accelerate learnings. From sweating over rugged terrain to sharing a freshly-picked açaí smoothie with a farmer’s family, site visits provide greater context and allow us to validate data, ultimately improving transparency.

What follows is our account of a recent visit to various sites in Southeast Asia to assess potential projects as we consider investing in nature-based solutions in the area.

August 16, 2024

There’s a buzz in the air in Singapore.

We’re wrapping things up at the Singapore Carbon Market & Investor Forum. We’ve spent four days sharing insights with climate professionals from around the world, and it’s unmistakable: the Asia-Pacific (APAC) region is eager for a more established, well-defined carbon market.

‘Integrity’ is a key theme during the Forum, and as we see these countries navigate complex issues — regulatory uncertainties, international carbon taxes, voluntary investments in decarbonization — we think about how we and our partners might help define this crucial but elusive concept.

What does high-integrity climate action look like in Southeast Asia? What potential for large-scale nature restoration exists in this part of the world?

That’s what we’ve come here to discover. These questions will be at the top of our minds over the next few days as we undertake due diligence visits throughout the Philippines and Malaysia to evaluate potential projects and gauge the feasibility of investing in nature-based carbon activities here.

So we ditch our corporate attire, don our field kits and head to the airport, eager to swap conference rooms for the forests and mangrove deltas that await us.

August 17

After arriving late last night to the Philippines, we’re up early for another flight and the two-hour drive to a local college. Still shaking off jetlag, but excited for what’s next: our hosts have introduced us to a local researcher who tells us all about her efforts to build out a community-centered program for mangrove restoration across the area.

Following a tasty fish and rice lunch (there would be much more fish and rice to come), we set out for the first potential project site we’d be visiting: a set of abandoned fish farms along the open-ocean coast. Under the blazing hot tropical sun, we walk down a quiet beach, then trek for over an hour along a narrow trail through thick brush. As we pass more abandoned fish farms dotting the shoreline, we spot glimpses of what could be: hints of natural regeneration among throngs of nipa palm, a plant species that takes over once mangrove losses are significant in a given area.

In the fallow state of this land, we see opportunity. There’s clearly potential for a restoration project here. Getting the many landowners aligned could prove to be a complex endeavor — but it just might be doable.

But why mangroves?

Mangroves are incredibly valuable ecosystems with the ability to store up to five times more carbon than other tropical forests, capturing it in both their woody biomass and the unique soils around their roots. They also act as natural barriers, protecting coastlines from erosion, storm surges, and flooding, while supporting marine biodiversity by providing habitats and nursery grounds for fish and other species.

Restoring mangroves not only enhances carbon sequestration but can also boost local economies through improved fisheries, strengthen coastal resilience, and even improve ocean health by reducing wave energy and promoting shoreline stability.

We’re juggling the possibilities in our heads as we navigate through the thicket of palm trees, when our guide has to run home (in time to cook more rice). In a matter of minutes, we’ve lost the trail forward.

We find a shady spot to regroup for a bit, and then backtrack our way to safety. On to our next destination: a village whose economy is centered on collecting, cooking, and selling shellfish. Chatty, energetic children swarm us, testing out their English to ask these odd-looking visitors for selfies.

Here we see a stand of previously restored mangroves along a beach silted by quarry run-off, stretching out into the distance. Evidence of local efforts to pilot mangrove planting, coupled with a vibrant, entrepreneurial local community. The pieces are starting to fit.

August 18

What a day! Hiking to visit coconut farms, a boat ride along coastal islands covered in abandoned and active fishponds — and finally a visit to a 100% women-led bakery nestled along gorgeous waterfalls that doubles as a piggery and triples as an eco-attraction for tourists.

A fascinating business concept to be sure, but what does it have to do with carbon projects? Our hosts are showing us how the integration of local communities and small businesses into potential carbon project sites could work. There already exists a certain level of organization and social infrastructure here, and a carbon project can help expand that capacity. Community advancements are central to Catona’s investment thesis, and we’re keen to learn how this operation might scale with sustainable sources of financing.

In the surrounding area, they’ve already planted trees to mitigate against soil erosion and landslides from typhoons. These planting sites could potentially be expanded, with more native species integrated. Much of the project area would involve clearing the land of brush, “strip brushing," and replacing them with native trees paired with productive trees for harvesting cacao, coconut, and coffee.

We meet with several local community leaders to chat about the ecological challenges they’re up against — and potential opportunities to do something about it. They’re all keenly aware of the increased frequency, intensity and unpredictability of typhoons and landslides in their areas.

While the concept of a carbon project was generally novel, the words “climate change” were ubiquitous, as was the clear desire and pressing need among local communities to make climate action a priority in their part of the world.

August 19

Our last day in the Philippines begins with a morning visit to a nursery tucked away down a dirt road lined by palm trees. We witness firsthand the process for growing seedlings that will later be distributed across the region.

Speaking with the nursery managers about potential expansion, we gain a sense of the resources needed to scale the operation. They’re off to a promising start — already producing around 50 species, including native bamboo and dipterocarps (giant trees of the lowland rain forests) — and the opportunity for further growth is evident.

Then we’re off to the provincial environmental ministry headquarters to learn the official perspective on nature-based carbon projects. Local and national government entities are crucial stakeholders in landscape-level carbon projects. They’re often decision-makers, and — if all goes well — key allies in getting a project up and running.

Without government buy-in and support, a community-centric project such as this is unlikely to materialize. Given this context, we’re glad to see how seriously the officials are taking our meeting, draping formal turquoise cloth over the tables and inviting us to sit on either side of the department head. We’re not looking for a firm commitment just yet, but overall they clearly support the idea.

This is a very encouraging sign, and a good note on which to close out this leg of our journey.

August 20

We’re greeted upon landing in Malaysia by our next group of project developer hosts, specialists in mangrove restoration. After so many early-morning and late-night video calls, it’s a real pleasure to finally meet in person — now we have hours upon hours to exchange ideas.

And we take advantage, talking through everything from methodology application and local carbon taxes to tidal flows and community seaweed cultivation. We’ve got a jam-packed schedule over the next few days, but one that allows us to gain insights into nearly every aspect of the restoration project under consideration.

The conversation moves from conference room to airport to cross-province roadtrip, as we jot down our observations in the tiny waterproof notebooks we have tucked in our pockets at all times. The journey ends at a boisterous buffet-style cafe, where we sample local cuisine with the project team and representatives from the forestry industry.

The conversation is lively and engaging, as ideas and possibilities bounce across the table. From today’s observations, one thought lingers: the infrastructure in this area is impressive, but the level of ecosystem degradation is striking. We’ve encountered very little natural terrestrial vegetation; it’s palm oil plantations as far as the eye can see. There’s clearly an opportunity to integrate nature restoration here amongst commercial land-use, but it will take some work.

August 21

We’re up early for a team breakfast and before we know it, we’re slipping-on our dive boots and cruising at high speed in a 12-seater boat, bouncing on the wooden bench seats as nipa palms and mangroves blur past us.

We arrive at a degraded site containing little more than puddles, driftwood, and ferns. This area was cleared over a year ago, yet we can still see the tell-tale muddy ruts from heavy equipment cutting across the scene. Our hosts — a team of regional experts including scientists, foresters, and community developers — walk us through (literally) the many nuances of economics, culture, and ecology that’ve led to this result.

We have a more encouraging topic to discuss as well: how restoration can be implemented here to re-create a thriving ecosystem — and what that could mean in terms of increasing this area’s capacity to sequester carbon. We spend a good bit of time picking our hosts’ brains as we hop over lobster mounds and admire some of the towering mangrove trees that escaped the onslaught.

Our (very patient) boat captains kindly point out that the channel’s water is flowing rapidly out to sea. Low tide. Apparently on a past trip the team’s boat got stranded for eight hours — so we get a move on to our next stop: a community of fisherpeople that would be key partners in a restoration project.

We receive the warmest of welcomes from a greeting party on the community’s wooden pier. As we walk to the town hall, we take note of black plastic seedling bags scattered along the shore. This is evidence of a failed attempt to plant mangroves — as one of our hosts points out — due to flaws in the planting approach. With over 50 years of experience planting mangroves in this region, he offers targeted advice on how to improve the results for the upcoming restoration effort. It was a quick but revealing conversation - the team is not only capable but also enthusiastic to offer actionable solutions that will bolster outcomes for the project and the communities.

These are invaluable insights as we consider what a successful project might look like here, and what role Catona could play. Local knowledge, engagement and participation is a critical pillar of Catona’s process. We’ve seen, time and again, if we collaborate with local partners and communities, and complement their skills and experience with our strengths and expertise — from the early project design to ongoing project monitoring — we can create the conditions to drive results that may have eluded past efforts.

We reach the town hall to find dozens of community members gathered within, including representatives from several nearby villages. They’re all eager to learn about the potential for restoration in this area, and what it would mean for the development of their communities.

Our hosts speak to the group in Malay, and we listen closely as snippets are translated for us. They share with the audience their prior experiences, and their vision for what could be accomplished here: new income streams, investment in infrastructure, and restored ecosystems across the depleted delta areas. Most importantly, it’s made abundantly clear that the communities’ insights, perspectives, and support would be integral to the project’s success.

This inclusive approach is a key reason we’re considering this project opportunity — such community-first project design can drive meaningful impact not just for climate outcomes and ecosystem recovery, but also for the people whose very livelihoods depend on (and influence) the durability of that restoration.

Countless handshakes, smiles, and selfies later, we hop on the backs of awaiting motorbikes that scoot us to the pier where our boats await. Once we’re back at homebase, it’s time to debrief. Over family-style dishes of fish, noodles, and steamed veggies, we review learnings from the day.