The totem for most traditional Zenadh Kes Islanders from across the breadth of the Torres Strait is of an uninhibited turtle swimming in the picturesque turquoise waters.

But that iconic image is changing sharply with their numbers in alarming decline.

The affinity most of the inhabitants of the 274 islands of Torres Strait identity – especially located in the sparse eastern cluster of the archipelago – associate with are the green, hawksbill, olive ridley and flatback turtles, who are the vibrant spirit of their seafaring Melanesian sub-culture.

The local species are four of the more endangered turtles on the planet due to the onset of drifting Indonesian fishing nets and evidential climate change.

However the Erub clan is fighting to arrest their change of customary lifestyle.

Erub artist Jimmy Kenny Thaiday has been deeply affected and influenced by the plight of the sea-based reptile, both in his art but also in his very personal research.

"One of my latest works has been inspired by the turtles because I've gone out on boats with our local island rangers as well as the Torres Strait Regional Authority rangers," Thaiday told National Indigenous Times.

"We go out to our Sea Country and monitor these turtles.

"While I am out there, I ask questions and get information that climate change is affecting the breeding grounds, the nesting areas of the sea turtles.

"Because of the heat, the temperature, that's caused by climate change, it's feminising a lot of the little turtles.

"Science has found there is more female turtles than male because for male turtles to hatch, they need a cooler chamber.

"The weather is changing the timing of the turtles when they come to lay.

"It's no longer cooler anymore because of climate change – it's now overheated.

"For myself as an artist, I have created work around that sort of impact that it has had on the baby turtles, the hatchlings.

"Because climate change is really talked about in the Torres Straits, it's not just temperatures that is affecting the turtles nesting grounds, but the sea-level rising is affecting the islands."

The Islanders are devastated enough by the planet's man-made disaster.

Largely aided by global warming, climate change is nothing new for many Pacific islands on the fringes of its ocean, where in areas including Kiribati - more than 3500 kilometres away - land is slowly sinking.

But the fact turtles are dying in 'ghost nets' abandoned at sea through strong currents and storms is possibly a more serious threat to their very existence.

"I have come on to create works that talks about the impact of climate change, but also the nets," Thaiday adds.

"The destructive nature of the nets is just as destructive of climate change itself.

"So I try and use that destructive medium of ghost-netting and talk about creating art where the nets with climate change is affecting our traditional cultural way of life, and the animals that we associate with."

The drift nets cast out by Indonesian fisherman are baited with squid and are hoping to catch larger marine life.

Certainly not turtles.

These nets are silent killers that have radio beacons on the surface to detect their catches.

Torres Strait data suggests four out of every five catches are turtles.

A pointless and futile exercise that no one gains from.

Not even for the diet of the Torres Strait.

"Being out there on Sea Country and because it's a part of traditional way of life, I feel so connected to the area," Thaiday said.

"The things that are happening to the animal (turtle) is not good."

When the radio beacons eventually fail and the drift nets turn into ghost nets, the problems deepen.

The rogue nets are made from resistant synthetic materials that do not break down, nor do they rot out, and can sit on the bottom of the sea floor where nets become self-baiting traps that can also continue to trap other marine life for years.

Thaiday's creativity and artistic practice is tested like when the longevity of the turtle to his culture is threatened.

"The turtle is a major part of Torres Strait culture and tradition from not just nowadays, but from our ancestors and forefathers," he says.

"They have used turtles in various ways: whether it's for rituals or means for food.

"The turtle is really important for totems for many tribes throughout the Straits.

"But the turtles are not just important to my own people, but everywhere in the Straits."

The solo artist was a part of Erub Arts community, but has connected with non-Indigenous mainlanders too, who have formed the Ghost Net Collective.

Founder Lynette Griffiths, an artist herself based out of Cairns, has been bringing the plight to the attention of as many mainlanders as she can that live along the Australian coast.

That way it's not just a Torres Strait Islands problem and the burden on up to 4514 shoulders adrift north of Cape York.

"We are all connected by the oceans," Griffiths poignantly says.

"Collectively, we can take action to raise awareness of the silent killers, which are the ghost nets."

She said scientific researchers can only find the one solution and it's obviously quite logical.

"Everyone is still making ghost nets," Griffiths says, "but not necessarily making the turtles that much anymore."

The nets that trap the turtles are banned. The Ghost Net Collective is not talking about a ban in Australia only, but where they originate from outside foreign waters: Indonesia.

Thaiday is not the only artist waiting on feedback from scientists.

Like the group's name suggests, Griffiths is making the best of a bad situation that stands out in the sea of millions of people on dry land.

The nets are turned into spectacular eagle ray pieces that fly high for anyone passing central Sydney, who can't reach the depths of the ocean to view and contemplate.

"We've worked with Torres Strait Islanders and doing some ghost networking that aligns with that," Griffiths says.

"It's really science meets art, which is important."

The eagle rays are located outside Wynyard train station on the approach to the Bangaroo waterfront.

They stand high in the air for travellers to gawk and create enough interest to scan off the QR codes there that tells the story of the bright displays and their purpose.

"Through that QR code, there's a whole pile of things that people can follow up on about that and yet we have also had quite an amazing amount of feedback on them," Griffiths explains.

"The people from around the coast that have made them, have been to Barangaroo, have taken photos of themselves and sent them to us."

The positioning of the art, there in busy Sydney, is more symbolic.

The original tideline, before British colonists arrived Australia, ran through Exchange square that is down the very busy escalators, outside of the modern-day station.

The display provides a prominent talking point about the crossing of land and of sea, and the shadows it creates, in addition to the connecting of people all around the continent.

"They'll be there for 25 years," Griffiths lauds.

"That's a permanent installation, but it was a work by the Ghost Net Collective, with myself and Marion Gaemers, and working with Erub Arts.

"So it's an Indigenous and non-Indigenous project, and that's important to note it was about reconciliation as well.

"We also ask of people to make small rays from all around Australia – much of it was about connecting people around the coastline as well."

The project unified where the Ghost Net Collective first waited in Cairns – still 850 kilometres apart and really a world away from Erub island – from where the project starts.

The Erub residents collected the nets that creeped onto its foreshore and the low tide of its waters that meet the sandy beaches.

"Lot of the stitching was done on Erub, but it was too big to send backwards and forwards," Griffiths, detailing the making of the collective eagle rays says.

"So the frames were done in Cairns and it was put together in my studio and the artists from Erub came down every couple of weeks, and that's where we worked together with a band of (Cairns) volunteers.

"So it was a truly collaborative big project that everybody invest in."

Griffiths added it was integral to have the backing of a tiny but talented Erub Community, adding the project would not have happened had the island not on board.

"It was a huge collaboration – but not only from the Erub Arts," she says.

"But the lighting, the engineering, you name it, was a huge and it was a huge project, and we're all very proud we were able to make it and make it in North Queensland.

"It was a huge thing for us – so much public art gets taken out of your hands and in the end is manufactured somewhere else, and we really wanted it to be made in North Queensland."