How's the Nooksack Doing?

Tropical salmon, photographed in the South Fork of the Nooksack.
  Salmon are very adaptable.

I’ve been out of town for most of July.  From afar, I see that low water levels and high temperatures are killing off fish in the Columbia River, the Snake River in Idaho, and some rivers in Oregon.  

Bummer for them, right?  But they’re not OUR fish.  Who can tell me how the Nooksack is doing?

I know, I know, there’s nothing to worry about.  Whatcom County has “plenty of water.”  That’s the favorite line of the state Department of Ecology, which is charged with making sure that there's enough water in the Nooksack to keep fish alive.  Similarly, our local opinion-leaders in the building industry and the Tea Party folks insist that we’re wasting water by leaving so much in the rivers. (See my earlier blog, in which I relay their clarion call that “The fish are drowning!”)

But could it be that Whatcom County has “plenty of water” in the same way that the water expert told Vashon that it has plenty of water:  “There’s no lack of water on Vashon, he said; all you have to do is dry up the streams”?

NOAA, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, has a website with some monitoring data from a few sites on the Nooksack.  I’m not sure what the previous hisorical minimum level was on the South Fork of the Nooksack at Saxon Bridge at this time of the year, because the river is off the charts – below the previous minimum. Every day sets a new record.

But still, Ecology says we have plenty of water, so that can’t matter.  Low water means warmer water.  How about on the South Fork at Saxon Bridge?

 It’s a treat for salmon to bask in 74-degree water, right?

Perhaps not.  Back in 2012, Ecology published a report on “South Fork Nooksack Water Temperature.”   For the water nerds among us, this is because the South Fork has a TMDL, or Total Maximum Daily Load, for temperature.

The report says:  “The South Fork Nooksack River watershed is impaired by high water temperatures.”  The figure below shows the South Fork watershed. 

Note water temperature standards.  16 degrees Celsius is equivalent to 60.8 degrees Fahrenheit.  12 degrees C = 53.6 degrees F. 

As the report notes,

“Temperature levels fluctuate over the day and night in response to changes in climatic conditions and river flows.  Since the health of aquatic species is tied predominately to the pattern of maximum temperatures, the water quality criteria are expressed as the highest 7-day average of the daily maximum temperatures occurring in a water body.”

The 7-day average for July 20-26, a period that takes in that little cloudburst that cooled down water temperature, was around 66.8 degrees – or 6 degrees higher than the water quality standards.  And this is July. Not August.

But of course, that’s the South Fork.  In a state full of fishery closures, “the only Whatcom County river affected is the south fork of the Nooksack River,” chirps the Bellingham Herald. 

So let’s look on the bright side.  Everything is OK everywhere else, right?

Looking on the bright side, NOAA predicts that the Nooksack at Ferndale may get as high as, or perhaps even get a little higher than, the previous historical low flow during the first few days of August.  In other words, there may be a few days in our future when the Nooksack isn’t setting a low flow historical record at Ferndale.  See, plenty of water!

What about temperature?  The 7-day average from July 20-26, taking into account the summer rain, is 64.3 degrees. That's less than 65. 

That’s something.  How good is “something”?  All I know is that  in 2008, the latest year for which NOAA posted a report with annual data, the highest single-day water temperature at the Nooksack in Ferndale in July was 59 degrees.  The highest single-day temperature of the year, in August, was 62.6 degrees. 

A 7-day average of 64.8 looks a bit warmish, relatively speaking. Perhaps the salmon are shaking the wrinkles out of their tropical attire.

Because August is coming. 

August is coming, and then Winter is Coming (note allusion to popular culture), and then all of the currently-dead salmon will revive in our abundant waters.  That’s how I understand Ecology’s position, which is that Whatcom County has PLENTY OF WATER!* *except for a few months.

And so.  Since the streams aren’t dry in Whatcom County, there’s plenty of water.  For people. 

In one of the articles that I linked to previously, the author discusses conflicts between fish and humans.  “In Washington," he observes, "salmon have a special place in the calculations. Endangered Species Act listings and the treaty rights of Indian tribes make it impossible to just forget about the fish.”

The thing is, nobody’s paying any attention to the Endangered Species Act in Whatcom County.  Ecology’s instream flow for the Nooksack was calculated before the Endangered Species Act salmon listings, and Ecology has acknowledged publicly that it doesn’t meet ESA requirements. 

Tribal rights?  They’re out there.  People talk about them a lot.  And then they ignore them.  The Lummi are working to get people to pay attention.  That’s a process that’s heading somewhere or nowhere right now.

But, in the meantime – can somebody tell me how the Nooksack is doing? 

Wasting a Good Crisis

“Never let a good crisis go to waste,” or so they say that Winston Churchill said.  I’ve been seeing that quote in a lot of news articles lately, possibly because the world has no lack of crises not to waste.

Close to home, on April 17, Governor Inslee expanded a previous drought declaration to cover Whatcom Skagit, and northern Snohomish counties.

Drought declarations are based on likely “hardships” to farmers, water providers, and fish.  Department of Ecology director Maia Bellon’s drought order states that “Many of our major rivers are forecasted to have April through September runoff volumes that will be the lowest in the past 64 years.”

“In watersheds originating on the western slopes of the Cascades Mountains,” Director Bellon continues, “there is a high risk that fish populations will experience extreme low flow conditions this year. . . “”

These are the conditions that are likely to be the rule, not the exception, with increasing climate change, according to UW Professor of Atmospheric Sciences Cliff Maas.  (Perhaps those who still don't want to "believe in"  climate change  will find it persuasive that Pope Francis is a believer.)

So, what will Washington and Whatcom County do, to take advantage of this crisis? 

Well, the state plans to respond by digging us into a deeper hole.

According to Ecology,  “Once an area has been declared in drought, it can qualify for drought relief funds that can be used for leasing water rights for irrigators, deepening wells or drilling emergency wells.”  

So this crisis likely will provide an opportunity for taxpayers to subsidize private enterprise, likely at the expense of public resources – such as fish.  To read more about such “mischief in the public policy arena,” read CELP’s new blog.

In Whatcom County, the drought will give us the opportunity to practice ignoring water scarcity on a larger scale than usual.

Even when there isn’t an official drought, Whatcom County’s water management is based on a single principle:  possession.  Possession is 10/10ths of water law in Whatcom County.  Dig a ditch or pond, sink a well, stick a pump in the river, take what you need – that’s the law.

• “Over 50% of ag water use in violation of some aspect of water code.”
  • Presentation, Whatcom Water Supply:  Searching for Certainty in Uncertain Times, 2013 (Farm Friends)
• “60% of irrigation non-permitted”
  • Farm Flash E-News, Jan. 2012 (Farm Friends) 
• "From the review of compiled public water system information, it appears that 326 public water systems do not have water rights." 
  • 2013 WRIA 1 Groundwater Data Assessment, p. 91

Even without drought conditions, fish are often out of water during the dry months. 

• “From 1986 to 2009, the Nooksack River failed to meet instream flows 72 percent of the time during the July-September flow period.”  (Source:  NW Indian Fisheries Comm’n). 
• “[A]verage minimum instream flows in the mainstem and middle fork Nooksack River are not met an average of 100 days a year.”  (Source:  Dept. of Ecology, Focus on Water Availability). 

The Nooksack “instream flows” were set in 1986, hypothetically to protect fish.  But they don’t.  Not only are instream flows ignored, but Ecology and the County have actively fought to reduce any protection that instream flows would provide (assuming that instream flows weren’t ignored, which they are).

For fear of backlash from building interests, Whatcom County and Ecology have teamed up (successfully, so far) to fight for the rights of new development to deplete instream flows.  The County and Ecology went to court to make sure that new water users can take water away from any senior water user with water rights dating as far back as 1986. 

And they've succeeded.  Ecology and Whatcom County obtained a court decision stating that new houses and subdivisions have the right to take water away from farmers and fish. Even if senior water users (such as farmers) have to cut back on water use to meet instream flows, even if brand new exempt wells dry up streams entirely, new exempt wells have highest and absolute priority.

This matters because of the very extensive rural sprawl that is baked into Whatcom County’s Comprehensive Plan and development regulations.  County planning provides for the greenfield construction of seven new City of Blaines (in population terms) outside of cities, in rural and agricultural areas. 

Where there’s already water scarcity, new greenfield construction will simply take water away from senior users.  Tough luck, fish and farmers! 

So -- what could we do about that? 

Well, I had a good idea.  My idea was that the County could use water availability to help guide its land use planning.  Where water is available, plan for growth.  Where water isn’t available, and can’t be made available without taking it from senior water users, guide growth away. 

What's the problem with that?  Potential backlash, of course.  I previously noted that "possession" is the only law of water use in this County, but come to think of it, that's wrong.  The second law is "avoid backlash."

Fish don't lash back, of course, and politicians only pretend to care about future generations during campaigns.  The reality is that future generations won't be voting in November.

And that is how the Tragedy of the Commons plays itself out, over, and over, and over. 

"Tragedy," as Garrett Hardin and Alfred North Whitehead define it, resides in "the remorseless working of things."

I still think that my idea was a good one.  Reflecting the remorseless working of water policy in Whatcom County, however, I have a new suggestion, and I think that it will be a popular one that will avoid backlash.

Everyone can agree that the highest and best use of water is for microbrews.  The proliferation of new breweries in Bellingham will help us to drown our sorrows.  To end with another optimistic quote from another eminent British thinker (John Maynard Keynes, this time), “In the long run we are all dead.” 

So let us eat, drink beer, be merry, and avoid backlash, until the long run catches up.

Cheers!

Of Salmon and Bagpipes

I’ve lived in Whatcom County since 1996, and it has always seemed a bit like Brigadoon to me. The land that time forgot. A county-dwelling friend claims that this aura is related to the County's staunchly conservative electorate: “These are the folks who ran as far away from civilization as they could, until the water and the border stopped them from going any further.”

Maybe that’s why the idea of “planning” meets so much resistance in our county. “Planning” means that change is going to happen, that the future may be different from the past, and that change might make us do things differently.

No change will be bigger than climate change. The scientific evidence of climate change’s effects makes it clear that our future is going to be quite different from our past. And when I say “our future,” I mean our future. Right here in Whatcom County.

Just yesterday, for example, a peer-reviewed article confirmed what we already know: that climate change is giving salmon a tough time. As NOAA Fisheries states: 

Many salmon rivers around Puget Sound have experienced increasing fluctuations in flow over the past 60 years, just as climate change projections predict - and that's unfortunate news for threatened Chinook salmon, according to a new analysis of salmon survival and river flow.

More pronounced fluctuations in flow can scour away salmon eggs and exhaust young fish, especially when lower flows force adult fish to lay eggs in more exposed areas in the center of the channel.

Flow fluctuates so wildly because of bigger storms, more droughts, and more water falling as rain instead of snow. This study makes it clear that these fluctuations are already happening – this is not just something that may happen in the future.

Oh well, you may be thinking, that’s OK, we’ll just get our salmon from British Columbia. Except that a recent Canadian study shows that warming waters in B.C. rivers will give chinook salmon heart attacks. Literally.

So maybe we shouldn’t “plan” to outsource our salmon dinners
.

These studies, and many more like them, show that the future will not be like the past. In fact, “the future” is now. It’s already on the job. What can we do about it?

Whatcom County is in the middle of its most important planning exercise: the update of its 2016 Comprehensive Plan. The Comprehensive Plan is supposed to identify and protect frequently flooded areas. It’s supposed to protect surface and groundwater resources. It’s supposed to protect fish and wildlife habitat. Climate change will affect all of these “protected” resources. We could -- in fact, we should -- plan to avoid and ameliorate the effects of climate change.

But I’ve been watching County planning for a while now, and I have a prediction based on past performance. I predict that Whatcom County will continue to plan for the past, because that’s where its most vocal residents are the most comfortable.

The County will continue to promote land conversion that way it’s always been done in Whatcom County-- without worrying about water supply, or how much pavement covers watersheds, or whether farm land is protected, or even whether impact fees are in place that could help to pay for some of the impacts of land conversion. The County will continue to give the very highest priority to making sure that tens of thousands of new houses can be built on farm land and in rural areas, even when the new houses’ new wells deprive salmon of the water that they need.

In short, Whatcom County will continue to plan for 1950, not for 2050.

Now, some readers are shaking their heads, saying “I live in the most progressive community in the universe! We love the environment! What are you talking about?” And that may be right, as far as it goes. Psychologically, if not geographically.

As Gail Collins has pointed out, there’s a large and increasing difference between what she calls “crowded places” and “empty places.” "Empty places" are a state of mind, not necessarily a geography; Texas views itself as an empty place, Collins notes, despite the fact that 80% of its population lives in urban areas

In our crowded place, Bellingham, it can be easy to stay cocooned in our proto-Brooklyn hipster vibe. But the fact is, our mini-Brooklyn is located smack in the middle of mini-Texas, when it comes to voting patterns and cultural affiliations.

Speaking of Texas – we have a lot of folks in Whatcom County who would find Texas Senator Ted Cruz’s favorite climate joke to be really funny: “It’s cold! Al Gore told me this wouldn’t happen!”

Best available science recognizes that climate change is already upon us. Whatcom County is required to use best available science when it protects critical areas.

But will it?

Or is that the sound of laughter over Al Gore jokes that I hear, almost muffling the faint strain of a bagpipe, as Brigadoon fades back into the past?