Let me tell you a story.
Way back, at the dawn of a new millennia Darcey Croft found herself on a boat in the middle of the Indian Ocean. She was not happy at all. Diving off the boat to escape she swam deeper and deeper into the blue. Beneath her a clear vision of stunning ocean life and surprisingly, a plastic bag wafting past distracting her from the thing she was not happy about.
Up on deck David was in a quandary. Should he pacify the temperamental pregnant woman who had taken umbrage to one of his jokes or continue relaxing in the East African sunshine. He got up, put on his flippers and jumped in. He swam over to Darcey, who having forgotten her hormonal surge was pointing at the plastic bag and quipping about litter picking out here of all places. He gave her a big hug.
Later that day they moored the boat off a tiny deserted island. On the map, Coconut island looked like a good place to explore, make camp and drink coconut water. It didn’t take long to walk through the sparse trees and get the full sum of the stretch of this land in the middle of nowhere. As they came through the thicket onto the opposite shore they were surprised to see a man sitting by a camp fire.
He introduced himself as Domingo Montoya a scuba diva and salvage expert who was in the area surveying a dive site. He had a small fire going and, as he had been alone for a couple of days, welcomed the company inviting them to join him beside the fire.
They talked about many things and when the subject of plastic bags floating around in the ocean came up, he laughed sarcastically and said ‘I take it you haven’t been to the beach over there’, gesturing a way off, where a beautiful stretch of crystal white sand was littered with debris. All kinds of recognisable packaging and unrecognisable dirty waste lay strewn around washed in by the tide. It was a small beach and the amount of waste was disgusting, but Domingo said it was nothing compared to the amount of plastic dumped into the sea and they wouldn’t be able to comprehend the extent of ocean pollution he had seen on his adventures.
They returned to the camp and talked of happier things and messing about with the fire, Darcey caught her finger on one of the hot stones. She pulled her hand back quickly but the stone had singed her finger and a blister had begun to form. Domingo leapt to his feet and snapped off a stem from a plant nearby, rubbing the sap on her burn, the pain vanished and the redness soothed, within minutes there was no trace of the burn. She asked what this magical plant was and he recounted enthralling tales from his adventures. Journeys that had led him to discover ancient knowledge from Shamans, folklore and medicine men.
He continued his tale, about how, back in the day, he had been on a salvage mission to a Spanish Galleon, which had floundered off the coast of South America. Here they found dusty barely legible manuscripts detailing ancient indigenous knowledge, accompanied by small dark glass vials. The vials contained organic trace remnants of special plants that could heal wounds, restore health, vitality and whose sources were attributed to gods and men from the sky.
He said the vials were analysed in a laboratory and one of them held the organic evidence of a plant that happened to be sitting just to the left of Darcey as she had burnt her finger and she could take its fast healing properties as a present from the past.
Darcey and David were amazed and intrigued. Overtime, events on this day became an interest, then a hobby and then a passion rekindled, by research when Darcey studied at Kings College London.
Fast forward and David and Darcey are fully committed to be a part of the change that is needed to reduce plastic consumption and to use the awesome power of plants to heal, restore and revitalise the world.
Using Barenaturals to create world friendly products, providing an alternative to folk who wish for a healthy future for themselves, their children, and countless generations in front of us. Future generations will hopefully be able to look back and see the positive changes that conscious consumerism had in turning the tide. Their present, from the past, with love from us.