C. Anne Claus presents Drawing the Sea Near: Satoumi and Coral Reef Conservation in Okinawa as an ethnography of a WWF field office, interspersed with anecdotes of local life illustrating the meaning of the local seascape through community eyes. This combination transports us to a music studio, snorkelling amongst corals, honouring ancestors at the festival of the sea and communing with gods and ghosts. Key to the discussion is the concept of Satoumi—a cultivated seascape created by human and non-human actions, bringing together nature, culture and people. This is described as a contrast to the ideal of wilderness maintained separate from human interaction, and considers people as integral stewards of their environment. There is a strong focus on contrasts within this book: local vs transnational conservation, the Coral Village field station vs WWF Japan, Okinawan culture vs Japanese culture, and competition between methods of conservation. One of these debates revolves around so-called conservation-far and conservation-near practices, which raises issues around protectionism and fortress conservation. Conservation-near is embodied by interaction with nature on many levels—touch, smell, taste—and this is where the interactions of Okinawan life are most vibrantly rendered. Ultimately, this ethnography highlights the struggle between local, national and international conservation ideas and priorities.

Along the way, I learned a lot about the history of Okinawa, and of Japanese ways of thinking about conservation. In addition to finding out about this particular setting and the projects that were implemented, I got to know some of the community and their interests. I also gained insights into WWF's ways of working and the relationship between this local office and the global organization. These lessons are valuable for anyone working within a large conservation organization, and especially those who work on, or are interested in, local or community-based projects. The author conjured up vibrant and beautiful images in my mind of the famous blue coral, the bright blue waters and the colourful community members; however, this is not a book on coral conservation as such, and it does not focus on any particular species or research in detail. The most illuminating part of the book, for me, is the final chapter, which describes the popularity of amateur coral restoration efforts locally and how these practices are viewed unfavourably by the scientific community. There is an interesting anecdote from a local restorer that highlights the elitism and lack of inclusiveness sometimes present within conservation. Overall, this book does not claim that the processes highlighted could, or should, be implemented elsewhere, but rather gives food for thought on the nature of conservation and how it can be implemented equitably through diverse mechanisms.

I would recommend the book to readers on a number of levels—those interested in coral conservation, in Japanese views of the sea or in locally-based action. It will also be of value to anyone interested in thinking more widely about the roots of conservation and how it is relevant in the modern world. The author frames the successes of Coral Village as a perfect storm of opportunity that is bound within the local setting, yet is also able to draw out the learning that is relevant to conservation globally and raises questions that should be debated by us all. This ties in with the current societal focus on the inclusiveness of conservation and whether we have come far enough from our colonial roots. Perhaps we need to look outside ourselves more and take the opportunity to reframe our mindsets, Claus posits, raising the ultimate question: what is conservation and who is it for?