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[Water_news] 3. DWR'S CALIFORNIA WATER NEWS: WATERSHEDS - 9/12/07

Department of Water Resources

California Water News

A daily compilation of significant news articles and comment

 

September 12, 2007

 

3. Watersheds

 

LAKE DAVIS PIKE:

California Officials Tackle a Toothy Lake Predator - New York Times

 

DFG gears up for big pike kill with treatment of tributaries - Plumas County News

 

Writers on the Range: The lesson of killing fish on Lake Davis - Summit Daily News

 

FISH DIE-OFF:

Dozens of dead fish found in eastern Murrieta lake - North County Times

 

DELTA ISSUES:

Editorial: Water-cut challenge - Inside Bay Area

 

Living below Sea Level - California Coast and Ocean

 

 

LAKE DAVIS PIKE:

California Officials Tackle a Toothy Lake Predator

New York Times – 9/11/07

By Jesse McKinley, staff writer

 

PORTOLA, Calif., Sept. 11 — The poison didn’t work, and neither did the hook and bobber. The electrical probes were somewhat effective, but don’t even ask about the explosives.

 

For the last decade, the state of California has waged a Sisyphean battle against the northern pike, a fish and a voracious eating machine. In the mid-1990s, when pike were first found in Lake Davis, a Sierra Nevada reservoir about four miles north of here, the discovery set off a panic over the potential impact on the local trout-fishing and tourist industries as well as the possibility of the fish migrating to fragile ecosystems downstream. Since then, millions of dollars and thousands of man-hours have been spent trying to spike the pike.

 

But while the methods, including poison, electro-fishing, explosives and decidedly low-tech nets, have varied, the results have remained the same.

 

“We’ve taken 65,000 pike out of the lake,” said Steve Martarano, a spokesman for the State Department of Fish and Game. “And we haven’t made a dent.”

 

But like Captain Ahab or perhaps Wile E. Coyote, the state has not let a little adversity stop it. On Monday, more than 500 fish and game personnel began a last-ditch, $16 million effort to rid the lake of pike, the most expensive ever undertaken against an “invasive species” in California. “This is a top-of-the-line predator,” said Ed Pert, the project manager. “If we don’t get it this time, we may need to rethink things.”

 

The lake was closed after Labor Day to prepare for the watery assault. The plan is simple: poison the fish with 17,000 gallons of rotenone, a commonly used pesticide that is absorbed through the gills and blocks the ability to process oxygen. Rotenone is widely considered safe for mammals and other nongilled animals, though some concerns have been raised about links to Parkinson’s disease and some types of cancer.

 

But Gerald Sipe, the director of environmental health for the Plumas County Public Health Agency, said his office had determined that the treatment plan would not adversely affect the public.

 

It is not the first time the state has used rotenone in Lake Davis. In 1997, officials used a powdered form of the poison, which fouled the lake, Portola’s longtime water supply. (The town now primarily draws its water from wells.) The state later approved a $9.2 million settlement with the city and the county for businesses, homeowners and local residents. And, two years later, the pike were back.

 

This time, though, the state is using a milky liquid version of rotenone, and is focusing on the streams and tributaries that lead into Lake Davis, a 4,000-acre artificial reservoir about 60 miles north of Lake Tahoe. On Monday, about 60 workers staffed “drip stations” in creeks and streams while others sprayed ponds and other still waters with poison from plastic backpack tanks.

 

The state has also begun an extensive education effort. On Monday, two dozen reporters and television crews crowded around a rocky streambed as Stafford Lehr, a fishery biologist, described his pike-killing method.

 

“These fish will be exposed to the product for eight hours,” said Mr. Lehr, who wore a cowboy hat, goggles and white coveralls.

 

“Which is more than enough time to kill these individuals.”

 

No one knows exactly how many of “these individuals” live in Lake Davis, though estimates run anywhere from the tens of thousands to the hundreds of thousands. Nor does anyone know where the pike came from, though Mr. Martarano says they may have been introduced by sport fishermen who prize its fight or even “eco-terrorists” who might have introduced the pike “just to cause trouble.”

 

Whatever the cause, the pike is not a friendly newcomer to any ecosystem. A slender, razor-toothed hunter that can grow to more than three feet long, the pike has been known to devour anything it can get its pointed maw around, including frogs, waterfowl and — legend has it — small dogs.

 

While not a flashy menu topper like tilapia or trout, pike is edible, even glorified by some palates, though its bones make for challenging chewing. But in California, it is illegal to possess, dead or alive, Mr. Martarano said.

 

State officials are particularly concerned that the pike might escape to the Sacramento-San Joaquin Delta, where it could feast on other fish, including valuable salmon and threatened species like the delta smelt. Signs on the lake recommend cutting the head off any pike caught and tossing the fish back in the water, apparently to show the other pike that human beings mean business.

 

On Monday, at least, the poison seemed to be working. Within a few hours, fingerlings were starting to turn belly-up downstream, with reports on Tuesday of bigger pike giving up the ghost. The body of the lake will be treated in late September.

 

After the poisoning is complete — and all the dead fish are scooped out of the water — the lake will be tested for toxicity, and will remain closed for two months, Mr. Martarano said. After that, restocking will begin, with a goal of one million trout in Lake Davis by 2010.

 

Not every effort has been as encouraging. In March 2003, the department used underwater detonation cord to try to blow up the pike. A grand total of four pike were killed. Jim Murphy, the city manager in Portola, a railroad town of 2,300 people along the Feather River, said he was guardedly optimistic about the new plans. “I don’t think any of us want or encourage a chemical being put in our drinking water or our recreational lake,” he said. “But we better understand the issues and need now.”

 

That sentiment was echoed by Sara Bensinger, who runs the Grizzly Country Store, a fishing tackle and potato chip outlet on the lake’s southern shore. Ms. Bensinger said her business had been badly hurt by the pike problem, and the bad press that followed. On Sept. 1, she and about 200 other locals gathered to celebrate the beginning of the eradication effort by burning of a 13-foot-long papier-mâché pike, complete with nails for teeth.

 

“They’re going to get it right this time,” she said. “And then we’re going to start over.”  #

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/09/12/us/12pike.html?_r=1&ref=science&oref=slogin

 

 

DFG gears up for big pike kill with treatment of tributaries

Plumas County News – 9/12/07

By Diana Jorgenson, Portola Editor

 

The California Department of Fish and Game spent last week trucking in CFT-Legumine, a chemical compound that includes the plant derivative rotenone, and other supplies to set the stage for the toxic treatment of Lake Davis this month.

The spraying of tributaries and the establishment of drip stations in streams began Monday, Sept. 10, with a media briefing and demonstration of the process.

Tributary treatment continues throughout the week. No treatment is scheduled for the following week.

DFG plans to monitor the effectiveness of the stream treatments and collect dead fish during the week of Sept. 17 and follow up with a second treatment of streams and tributaries the week of Sept. 24.

A two-day treatment of the reservoir is scheduled to begin Sept. 25.

DFG also spent the last days of August and into September completing mitigation negotiations with Grizzly Lake Resort Improvement District.

The new settlement agreement amounts to $326,250. Details are yet to be released.

DFG also finished analysis of the seven lots of CFT-Legumine received from the manufacturer that will actually be used in the chemical treatment. DFG is currently completing the risk assessment that will accompany the analysis.

In a statement, the agency said: "In addition to the compounds identified previously in the CFT Legumine sample analyzed for the EIS/EIR, the laboratory detected fatty acids (these are compounds which may be in the lake naturally as well), glycols, and trace amounts of hexanol and substituted benzenes. The risk assessment currently underway strongly suggests that ecological risks from these compounds are insignificant, nor do they appear to be at concentrations that would suggest any human health risks through water, air, or ingestion exposure scenarios."

DFG is, however, adding them to the monitoring program, and the complete chemical names are expected in the near future.

At the same time that DFG gears up for active chemical treatment, the U.S. Forest Service has closed off the area and established checkpoints to keep people out of the Lake Davis area, yet allow media and residents access to the area.

A media center is being set up at the Chalet View Lode, with briefings scheduled on a daily basis. Members of the public will be able to attend these briefings for current information.

The public can also call the information line at 832-4754 or visit the Web site at dfg.ca.gov/lakedavis. #

http://plumasnews.com/news_story.edi?sid=5419

 

 

Writers on the Range: The lesson of killing fish on Lake Davis

Summit Daily News – 9/11/07

By Jane Braxton Little, a contributor to Writers on the Range, a service of High Country News in Paonia

 

Early on a morning in September, government workers will don masks and protective suits, embark in a fleet of small boats and begin pumping 17,000 gallons of poison into Lake Davis. Within minutes, the waters will be roiling with dead fish, dead frogs, dead salamanders — dead everything that lives in this northeastern California reservoir. The goal of the $16 million project is to eradicate the non-native northern pike that are devouring other non-native fish in Lake Davis, once hailed as a trophy trout fishery.

Poisoning an ecosystem to save it is a dire scenario. But Lake Davis is no pristine alpine jewel: Everything about it is man-made.

 

Lake Davis is a monument to natural resource manipulation that began decades before the current California Department of Fish and Game project.

The lake now teeming with pike was once a 5,000-acre Sierra Nevada meadow blue with camas lilies in spring. Rainbow trout spawned in Grizzly Creek as it meandered through the meadow toward the Feather River. Bald eagles nested in the towering pines at meadow's edge, and willow flycatchers flitted near the stream.

All that changed in 1967, when the creek began to back up behind newly built Grizzly Dam. State officials planning for urban growth had selected the meadow for one of a series of reservoirs designed to increase the water available to cities and agribusiness. The State Water Project made Grizzly Creek and other streams high in the Feather River headwaters the lifeblood of California’s prosperity far downstream.

To gain local support, government officials promised to also develop the reservoir’s recreation potential. Every spring they dumped truckloads of rainbow trout into Lake Davis. Soon, local businesses were catering to anglers who flocked there to try their hand at landing feisty fish. An artificial economy had grown up around an artificial fishery in an artificial lake.

Enter the pike, a rude intrusion to this man-made scene. Spiny-backed, spiny-mouthed and spiny-tongued, these four-foot-long fish have been scaring the bejesus out of the Fish and Game Department since 1994, when they were first discovered in Lake Davis. It's not their spines but their voracious appetites that terrify state officials. They fear if the pike escape downstream to the Sacramento-San Joaquin Delta, the invaders will swallow up salmon and other native species. They even worry that the invaders will annihilate the striped bass, a non-native species that has become a vital part of California's $2-billion-a year commercial fishing industry.

This scenario is such a nightmare that the department has committed millions to the September poisoning. That’s on top of the $20 million it invested in 1997, when it conducted a nearly identical chemical treatment. The first poisoning was a disaster.

 

Local residents were so opposed to it that state officials brought in snipers to deter saboteurs the night before the treatment.

 

Once released into the reservoir, the chemicals leaked downstream, killing fish in Grizzly Creek. Some people were hospitalized for headaches and nausea. The water remained toxic eight months longer than predicted. Worse yet, pike were flourishing again in Lake Davis within 18 months.

No one is happy about this invasive species in a California water body, and no one is happy about a second poisoning of the reservoir, which is used by two communities as a municipal water supply. But no one is talking about returning to the pristine days of yesteryear — before the dam and the creation of a fake fishery. Undoing all that artifice would force rethinking the entire State Water Project. The impacts on California business, agricultural and urban development are so far-reaching that the possibility has never been seriously discussed.

So the meddling goes on: Chemicals to kill all aquatic life in Lake Davis. Chemicals to neutralize the fish-killing chemicals.

 

Chemicals to treat the water for human consumption. Once the reservoir is deemed safe, Fish and Game officials will resume planting fish. They are promising bigger stock to mollify local merchants who have suffered during a decade of controversy and fishing closures.

The lesson of Lake Davis, of course, is that we manipulate natural resources at our peril. The consequences of interfering with ecological systems are almost always unforeseen. The immediate price we will pay is poisoned water and piles of rotting fish.

 

But future meddling may be far more costly. #

http://www.summitdaily.com/article/20070911/COLUMNS/70911011

 

 

FISH DIE-OFF:

Dozens of dead fish found in eastern Murrieta lake

North County Times – 9/12/07

By Brian Eckhouse, staff writer

 

MURRIETA -- Dozens of dead fish -- a few large, several small -- have been found floating on a pond abutting the backyards of several Murrieta homes in a tract west of Winchester and Hunter roads that neighbors the SCGA Golf Course on Robert Trent Jones Parkway.

A few dozen small fish lay dead Tuesday among the reeds behind the home of Bob Shaub, who lives on Cypress Point Drive. A strong stench wafted about Shaub's and his neighbors' backyards.

 

But 20-pound fish also have been found dead, residents said.

 

"When you start killing bottom-feeders, you know something's really wrong," said resident Mike Matthews.

A few weeks back, Shaub observed a 2-foot-wide ring of dead fish lining the edge of the pond, he said.

It is unclear what's causing the deaths of the fish. Attempts by residents to find out the exact cause from the state Fish and Game and the county's health department have been unsuccessful, Shaub said.

Efforts to reach golf course attendants Tuesday evening were unsuccessful.

"I've been here for five years," said Shaub, 63. "Fish and Game says it happens every year. Well, they have erroneous information; it doesn't happen every year."

Some residents speculate the pond has a high algae count, a prime symptom of stagnant pools, which are prime attractions for mosquitos.

"The only thing that separates me and the potential of West Nile virus is the fish that are supposed to be eating all the mosquitos," Shaub said, referring to the mosquito larvae on which some fish feed. "But they're all dead."

That isn't the only potential health hazard concerning residents.

"The worst part is, if this (pond) is allowed to go lower ... you could get hydrogen sulfide," said Matthews, 56. "That's the rotten egg odor, and it's very dangerous."

Murrieta City Manager Ron Bradley was not aware of the issue until Tuesday afternoon.

"If we have dead fish and a problem with this pond, we'd certainly have the county health department take a look at it and see if there are any existing health hazards,"

City Councilman Rick Gibbs also didn't know about the matter until Tuesday. He said it was a city matter, as Murrieta's public nuisance ordinance "involves public health."

"Nobody's talked to me about it ... but it's something we need to get on instantly," Gibbs said -- especially if the problem isn't limited to this one pond in eastern Murrieta.

"If this pond is connected to other ponds, are they having the same problem?" Matthews wondered. #

http://www.nctimes.com/articles/2007/09/12/news/californian/4_03_379_11_07.txt

 

 

DELTA ISSUES:

Editorial: Water-cut challenge

Inside Bay Area – 9/12/07

 

AFEDERAL JUDGE'S decision to severely cut back water pumping from the Delta presents a historic choice for California. Either the state builds large, new reservoirs, or it loses a significant portion of its agriculture.

 

Federal environmental law forced U.S. District Judge Oliver Wanger to order a reduction of about 1 million acre-feet of water being pumped from the Delta to save smelt from extinction.

 

That's enough water to supply 2 million households.

 

The water cutbacks come after a May decision by Wanger that the federal projects that supply water to farms and 25 million Californians were violating the Endangered Species Act.

 

A month earlier, a California judge ruled that the state Department of Water Resources had failed to get a state permit required by the state's endangered species law.

 

As a result of the cutbacks, which could be as many as 2 million acre-feet under some conditions, San Joaquin Valley farms will be forced to idle hundreds of thousands of acres of productive land, probably in the next growing season.

 

Also hit hard will be the Zone 7 Water Agency, which supplies water to 200,000 people in Dublin, Livermore and Pleasanton. Much of the district's water comes from the state water project, which pumps supplies out of the Delta.

 

Other urban water districts from the Bay Area to San Diego will have to use other sources, drought supplies or simply use less water, which could lead to hardships next year.

 

The biggest loser in California will be agriculture, and the impact is likely to be felt within a year.

 

Some environmentalists wanted even steeper reductions in water pumping to protect the endangered Delta ecosystem.

 

Several species of fish are declining in the Delta, and the situation could get worse without sufficient flows of fresh water.

 

There is room for better agricultural water use by eliminating certain crops, such as cotton, in arid regions. Greater use of drip irrigation also would help.

 

However, the kind of water cutbacks ordered by Wanger still would cause a significant loss to farms that use water wisely.

 

What is becoming increasingly clear is that the only practical way to ensure enough fresh water for the Delta environment, farms and urban users is to store much larger supplies of water during the wet months so there is enough to deliver to all users year-round.

 

California has not built a large reservoir other than Los Vaqueros for decades.

 

With the pumping cutbacks, time is running out for decisive action on increasing the state's ability to supply water in an environmentally responsible manner.

 

That means building at least a couple of major new reservoirs, or significantly enlarging older ones, and an updated delivery system.

 

That alternative to inaction is a devastating blow to one of the state's largest industries. #

http://www.insidebayarea.com/opinion/sanmateo/ci_6870171

 

 

Living below Sea Level

California Coast and Ocean – Volume 23, 2007

By Shirley Skeel, a frequent contributer to Coast & Ocean, is a radio and print reporter who recently moved from the San Francisco Bay Area to the Seattle area

 

Tammy Martinez looked around her home set in the sweeping flatlands of the Sacramento–San Joaquin River Delta and felt a buzz of pleasure. It was roomy, tasteful, and best of all, brand new. After the police helicopters and car chases near her family's old home in the city of Pittsburg, 15 miles to the west, she relished the tranquility of the Summer Lake community, which was built in 2006 just east of Oakley, in the watery region at the confluence of California's two biggest rivers, the Sacramento and San Joaquin.

 

Martinez, 38, would still easily get to her job as a bus driver at Tri Delta Transit in Antioch. Her husband, Roderich, would have a 40-mile commute to Richmond Sanitary District in the East Bay—but that was a small price to pay considering what they now had. She stepped out the back door with her two kids-to gaze at the sky, open fields beyond the houses and, oddly, an awful lot of sand in the ground . . . as though this had once been the bottom of a lake.

 

The Martinez family is one among thousands who have bought new homes in residential developments constructed on subsided diked lands in the 1,153-square-mile delta where the rivers meet and flow into San Francisco Bay. Many of these homes are on former wetlands, five feet or more below sea level.

 

Tammy Martinez knew about New Orleans, of course. She had also heard a lot from the Shea Homes sales agents about the strong four-mile levee that was built last year in a circle around the Summer Lake community. She wasn't worried—even though her own home is five feet below sea level.

 

"We feel safe here," she said. "Everything is inspected. I don't think they would allow you to live in their community if it wasn't safe. We have a sports club and a canoe club. We love it here."

 

The Martinez's home is on the Hotchkiss Tract, one of 57 manmade islands surrounded by levees that were built a century or so ago to turn tidal marshlands into farmland. Using picks, shovels, and wheelbarrows, farmers, former miners, and Chinese laborers constructed 1,100 miles of levees to protect fields of rich peat soil where they planted corn, asparagus, sugar beets, pears, rice, and other crops. Over the years, the peat soil dried and settled. Levees built at five feet were eventually raised as high as 30 feet as the ground kept sinking. Now the Delta is a maze of deep basins and sunken tracts surrounded by earthen dikes. In NASA satellite photos, it looks like a colorful plate of spaghetti. In places where Delta farmland is 25 feet below sea level the islands are actually holes—some of them deeper than San Francisco Bay.

 

That the Delta is a disaster waiting to happen has been widely acknowledged for a long time. Since 1900, Delta levees have broken 162 times and flooded more than 250,000 acres. Calls for action became more urgent after Hurricane Katrina tore apart the levees in New Orleans and decimated illusions that the laws of nature and physics could be thwarted by piles of dirt and rock. It was not reassuring that the New Orleans levees were built to a higher standard than most of the aging levees in California's Delta.

 

More than half a million people reside in the triangular Sacramento–San Joaquin River Delta. Many more are being drawn in by the relatively inexpensive homes being built there, within an hour's drive (assuming reasonable freeway flow) from the major population centers of the San Francisco Bay Area and Sacramento.

 

"In Walnut Creek you'd be paying a million dollars. Here you pay half," said Nicholas Ramirez, 32, who was working on his truck on a hot day in June, but put down his tools to chat with a stranger. He bought a two-story home at Summer Lake a year ago for $600,000 and moved in from Antioch, where he had lived most of his life, to get away from the noise and congestion. With a 10-year-old daughter and a young fiancée, he wanted a fresh beginning.

 

"I like that it's quiet here," he said, gazing down the street of picture-perfect houses backed by giant power lines and blue hills. "There's a lot of family people here, a lot of children for my daughter to play with, and not too many people-notice I say not too many people-speeding through here as though it's The Fast and the Furious. "

 

Ramirez admitted he "could have done better" checking out the flood threat before buying, but added that most home buyers probably don't probe too deeply. "I think it's mainly because everybody has their own problems and their own concerns with themselves. So until it's actually affecting you, you just wipe it off your shoulder," he said, shrugging. Like the Martinez family, the Ramirezes live five feet below sea level.

 

The Odds Are Scary

 

"That, in your own backyard there, is the scariest place after New Orleans," said Nicholas Pinter, a geology professor at Southern Illinois University, Carbondale, in a post-Katrina interview with the San Francisco Chronicle. "In California there seems to be large-scale neglect of those levee systems."

 

The levees are vulnerable to failure from earthquakes, heavy storms, further subsidence, seepage, erosion, and burrowing by beavers and muskrats, not to mention the threat of flooding as global warming raises sea levels and accelerates seasonal melting of the Sierra snowpack. Geologist Jeff Mount, at U.C. Davis, and Bob Twiss, a levee expert at U.C. Berkeley, estimated that there is a 60 percent chance of multiple, simultaneous levee failures due to an earthquake or flood over the next 50 years. The result could be destroyed homes, roads jammed with panic-stricken residents, disrupted water supplies to much of California, and loss of lives.

 

John Cain, director of restoration programs at the San Francisco-based nonprofit Natural Heritage Institute and co-author of Re-envisioning the Delta, a report produced by U.C. Berkeley's Department of Landscape Architecture and Environmental Planning, said in a recent interview that residential areas being built on the fringe of the Delta are on average five feet below sea level. In the winter flood season, water can rise more than 10 feet above the base of these homes. Many of the levees the residents rely on for protection are 10- to 30-foot-high unengineered mounds of dirt.

 

"I think it's incredibly irresponsible and misguided to develop on deep floodplains," Cain said. "We're not talking about people's living room carpets getting wet every few years. We're talking about whole subdivisions, with houses close together, being inundated up to their eaves. And the odds of that happening are really quite high." David Mraz, Delta-Suisun Marsh chief flood manager at the California Department of Water Resources, said in a telephone interview that there is undoubtedly cause for concern. He said only about 40 percent of the Delta's levees meet federal standards, though many of the poorer levees are in agricultural, not residential, areas. He also believes that even the federal standard is inadequate today.

 

"We have a very extensive levee system and . . . it's a problem just waiting to happen," he said. "The department's pushing for a higher (levee) standard."

 

Last year, the City of Oakley annexed the unincorporated East Cypress area, where 4,600 additional homes are planned for Summer Lake and other developments that are yet to be built. The city council, which expects to garner about $200 million in public improvements, including roads, parks, and water quality and conservation measures, from the four developers at East Cypress, claims that the new development is improving safety for local residents. Rebecca Willis, Oakley's Community Development Director, said by phone that the eight-mile, $25-million levee system being built by the four developers exceeds federal standards. Money from the developers and the new homeowners will also go toward improving and maintaining the old levee that circles the new one, she said.

 

However, it is the old levee that currently holds back the water. The new levee sits on dry land inside the old one. Between these two levees are 544 homes that cannot be sufficiently protected because some of them are on top of the old levee, obstructing any engineering work. "These homes don't have (federal standards) protection, and it's not practical to get it to them," said Willis. "If their levee fails, they may be out of luck (in terms of saving their homes)." Engineers have made it clear, she said, that the space where these 544 homes which stand would fill up with water far faster than it would have before the Summer Lakes development, because the developer's new levee restricts the basin space. That shortens residents' evacuation time from 16 hours to about four hours, she said—not a lot of time if you're asleep when the water surges in. However, Willis pointed out, new roads have been built from this threatened area to the new levee, so safe ground is now much closer than it used to be. That, of course, assumes that the new levee holds up.

 

John Cain believes even residents behind the new levee are not safe. If the old levee was breached, he said, rushing water could pound into the new levee and break through it or under it, because it is built largely from compacted soil and sand, rather than clay. Also, he added, seismologists believe a still-poorly-mapped fault line known as the Midland Fault runs near Hotchkiss Tract.

 

Don Hofer, a vice president with Shea Homes, disagreed. He said the new extra-wide levee is armored in strategic places with a mix of concrete and dirt to withstand any scouring effect from fast-flowing water. He said the compacted soil and sand provide a solid foundation and structure for the levee. He also insisted that the company's project is not on a fault line, and that the levee performance during an earthquake would be "very good." Seismic maps, however, show fault lines, including the Midland and Antioch faults, not far from the project.

 

"If it happens, it happens."

 

Just north of Hotchkiss Tract, across a canal filled with yachts and dinghies, an old community of golfers, retirees, and commuters has been living behind the dirt levees that encircle Bethel Island. They are linked to the mainland by a single bridge. The sandy island is below sea level and was flooded three times in the early 1900s, but not since.

 

Tom Culotta, 61, a former flooring contractor now living on a disability pension, moved his mobile home to the Island Park trailer park on Bethel Island to be near his elderly mother. He has lived in the Delta for 40 years and said he's "not really concerned" about flooding, as he can pack up his trailer in half an hour and drive to the top of a levee. Even the New Orleans disaster didn't faze him. "If it happens, it happens," he said. Sitting outside his mobile home with his dog Blanco, he recalled one big storm on Bacon Island near the Delta center in 2004.

 

"There was a train track ran down the middle of the island on top of the levee, and the levee washed away and flooded the island," he said. "The train fell in the water—it was a cargo train—and made a big mess of things."

 

Nearby neighbor David Mariscal does worry. He moved in from Brentwood four years ago to be closer to his maintenance job at the Bethel Island golf course. He said he saves on gas and enjoys the friendly community. On a hot day, his home feels serene, standing under tall poplars, amongst potted flowers, patio tables, and pickup trucks. But he said, pointing south, "Look. You come over that bridge. Look how low we are, below the water. And you start thinking about it . . . we're like a sunken island. The only way out of here is over that bridge."

 

Mariscal hopes that government officials look after the levees sufficiently. Local reclamation districts are largely responsible for maintaining and repairing the levees, with support from the State. Mariscal knows only too well that money is always short, so he revealed his own evacuation plan. "Climb the highest tree," he said, laughing. "There's not an easy way to get out." After the New Orleans fiasco, this was a point brought home to California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger. The governor toured the Delta by helicopter, declared a levee emergency, and in 2006 pushed through a $5-billion flood protection bond that included $3 billion to improve levees.

 

To ensure that all levees are safe, however, three times that amount is needed, said David Mraz at the Department of Water Resources.

 

Should a multi-levee failure occur, the disaster would affect all of California. In Re-envisioning the Delta, U.C. Berkeley engineering professor Raymond Seed estimated that any disaster that caused more than ten to 12 levees to fail could knock out the water supply for two of every three Californians for more than a year. Because the Delta is a basin, salt water from San Francisco Bay would be sucked into it, ruining the water quality and stopping the flow of water south.

 

Earthquakes are a major threat. The Department of Water Resources reported in 2005 that a 6.5-magnitude earthquake in the Delta region—bigger than the 1966 Donner Pass temblor that registered 6.0 on the Richter scale and swayed Sacramento buildings, but less severe than the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake, which measured at 7.1—could damage more than 30 levees and cause massive flooding. With six major faults nearby, officials are worried. The United States Geological Survey estimates there is a 62 percent probability of a 6.7 or greater magnitude earthquake in the nearby Bay Area in the next 25 years.

 

A Cheerful Plea of Insanity

 

Even these statistics seem to bounce off many Delta denizens. Bonnie Brown, 57, a former bartender who has been living in a houseboat on the Middle River in the center of the Delta for 12 years with her dog and five cats, found her last flood experience about five years ago "very exciting." She said, "The water was just rushing. I mean it was just rushing, fast, fast, fast. I didn't know if I was going to go off my pylons. That would have been a problem."

 

The boat did not break loose then, and Brown's biggest concern now is the heavy "wave boats" that tear down the river creating large waves for water skiers to jump over. "You get that big three-foot roller coming in. It just rolls and rolls and rolls. It breaks white water on the shore, and it just washes out the levee," she said.

 

Brown said she originally came from Reno to help a friend restore his boat. She loved the peace and quiet, and bought her own houseboat, where she now gardens, does stained glass art, and entertains her two grandchildren. Sure, the flood danger is real, she said, but she's not budging. "I guess you just have to be crazier than they are," she said, smiling and indicating the world at large around her.

 

This cheerful plea of insanity is not uncommon for old-time residents. Newcomers seem more bemused. Robert Guinan, who bought a house in Mossdale Landing, a new 2,300-home development just east of Lathrop in the southern Delta, laughs at his own rashness. He not only bought in an area protected by old levees, but got in at the top of the housing market prices. After 20 years of living "all over" the East Bay, the 43-year-old government employee moved to Mossdale Landing two years ago with his wife and three children. At the time he felt his investment was solid. As his mother-in-law was also moving to Mossdale, he got a free nanny, too.

 

These days he sits on his front porch looking at the grand, empty houses for sale around him. The possibility of a flood is only one of the spooks in his life. With the Central Valley property market having swung from boom to slump, as elsewhere, he has lost hope of a quick profit on his home.

 

"We were hoping to put our kids through college with the profit (from the house). It didn't turn out that way. These are a bunch of white elephants now," he laughed wryly.

 

Guinan said he had been aware the Delta was prone to flooding, but when it came to discussing the final details with the sales agent, the discussion went like this: "That's just one of those things. Don't worry, there's only a hundred pages to sign. Just sign this page and move along. That doesn't mean anything. Just keep signing. Sign your life away." Guinan laughed again, throwing his hands up. "I was aware of it. But life is a risk. It's like driving to the Bay Area every day. You take a risk."

 

He remembers seeing the giant 1997 flood in the Delta on television. More than 30 levees were breached after heavy winter rains and a substantial snowmelt in the Sierra. Thousands of acres of farmland and hundreds of homes were inundated, with the worst flooding along a 15-mile stretch of the San Joaquin River, north of where it intersects with Interstate Highway 5. Nine people died. But it was television, Guinan said. It didn't hit home that this could happen to him.

 

"It's foolish actually," he said. "I haven't seen the flood, only heard about it. If I'd seen it, I would be more apt to say, 'Forget it.' I wouldn't move out here."

 

Wanting to get into a new home as cheaply as possible, he didn't buy flood insurance. And because Mossdale is officially outside of the Delta flood-zone map, he is not required to. But that could change. The Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) is redrawing the flood-zone map, which in some places is 25 years out of date. City and county officials are scrambling to provide proof that their levees meet the so-called federal 100-year standard. If they don't, the areas behind those levees will be brought within the official flood zone, and homeowners with federally backed mortgages (most mortgages are federally insured, by Freddie Mac or Fannie Mae) will be required by federal rules to buy flood insurance. At Mossdale Landing, the age of the levees and the new FEMA requirement for better-engineered levees casts doubt on the community's future.

 

The City of Lathrop, which approved the Mossdale development, is working on a submission to provide proof to FEMA that its levees are up to scratch. FEMA spokesman Frank Mansell said the agency expects to present local authorities with the preliminary version of an updated flood zone map this autumn.

 

Often home buyers who are told their homes are behind a levee built to a standard known as the "100-year levee" feel comforted, thinking the levee was built to withstand floods for at least a hundred years. In fact, the standard means that in any year there is a one-in-a-hundred chance of a flood big enough to breach the levee. FEMA described the 1997 flood as a "typical" 100-year flood, according to the Stockton Record. Re-envisioning the Delta says that taking into account all residual risks (such as the once-in-200- and once-in-300-year floods), there is a 26 percent chance that over the life of a 30-year mortgage a house protected by a 100-year levee will be inundated by a flood.

 

That calculation rattles Saphon Hok, a young research scientist who bought a home at Mossdale Landing two years ago. He was not pleased to learn that if FEMA puts Mossdale within the flood zone, he and other local homeowners with federally backed mortgages will be required to buy flood insurance. Flood insurance, which only provides home coverage to a maximum of $250,000, can cost $1,400 to $4,600 a year, according to FEMA. Being in the flood zone could also affect a home's value.

 

"My wife and I are here for the long term, so we bought a house to live in, not get a return," Hok said. "But I would be concerned if we have to pay extra money for insurance."

 

Hok moved to Mossdale because he and his wife could not afford to buy in Livermore, where he got a job after graduating from U.C. Davis. Having almost drowned in a flood in Cambodia when he was five years old (his sister plucked him out), he is conscious of the power of large bodies of water. Before buying, he was aware the Delta was vulnerable to flooding, but, he said with a frown, "We took the risk anyway. And let us assume there won't be any flooding in our lifetime."

 

Although Mossdale has not flooded seriously to date, it is across the San Joaquin River from land flooded in 1997. That giant flood exposed seepage problems in the levee protecting the Mossdale community. In 2002, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers wrote to the Lathrop City Council expressing concern at the plan to build homes in Mossdale. The Corps asked for new drains and new engineering work to bring the levee to a higher standard. Lathrop fixed the drains. But as for the engineering work, the Council merely replied that the levee met the federal 100-year standard (albeit from 1989) and left it at that.

 

John Cain, of the Natural Heritage Institute, said plans for another 11,000 homes in a development called River Islands just across the San Joaquin River could leave Mossdale even more vulnerable. River Islands will be protected by "super levees" along the river. Cain said this could increase the pressure on Mossdale's aging levees on the other side if the river floods. Lathrop City Council spokesman Mike Esau commented, "Our experts say to their knowledge [the River Islands levees] do not appear to represent a threat at all."

 

Council spokesman Esau and Bruce Myers, a vice president with Mossdale's master developer, Pacific Union Homes, both said in telephone interviews that the levees and the project met all the required standards when the development was approved by Lathrop.

 

All of this debate was news to Matt Kan, who was peacefully fishing on the river, just over the levee from his Mossdale home on a sunny day in early June. Putting down his rod, Kan said a flood would "be a disaster" for him. He explained that he and his family, including two children, live with relatives during the week in San Jose, where he works as an engineering manager. They could not afford their own home in San Jose, so they bought in Mossdale and stay there each weekend. It is great for the kids, he said.

 

"It's a place for them to grow. Everything here is brand new. The school is new. The neighborhood is brand new. People are brand new. It's a way of looking at a fresh start for my family and myself," he said.

 

Kan's aspirations are shared by thousands of Bay Area families, some of whom could also make their way to the Delta looking for their dream homes, if developers continue to get their way. A growing torrent of protest from scientists, environmentalists, bureaucrats, and some politicians is starting to counteract the fierce lobbying of major developers. Demographer Hans Johnson of the Public Policy Institute, a San Francisco-based nonprofit economic, political, and social research organization, projects that the population of the five counties that share wedges of the Delta will more than double, to 7.5 million, by 2050 if restraints on growth are not put in place. Already, tens of thousands of new homes are proposed for the Delta region.

 

Governor Schwarzenegger hopes to curb this growth until the State can be sure the levees are secure. His office is circulating a proposal to require new housing projects in high-risk areas to meet tougher flood-risk criteria. Adam Mendelsohn, the Governor's communications director, told the Sacramento Bee in June that the Governor does not want to shut down construction in the state, and "everything is being debated." Any bill is likely to face fierce opposition from major developers, who also happen to be big donors to legislators' coffers.

 

Meanwhile, Kan says he's planning to give up some of his fishing time to check out the flood risks. He also aims to finally get around to looking for flood insurance.

 

"But right now, we'll just take it as it is," he said, picking up his rod. "Hopefully it doesn't happen. Hopefully they fix the levees."

 

Shirley Skeel, a frequent contributer to Coast & Ocean, is a radio and print reporter who recently moved from the San Francisco Bay Area to the Seattle area. #

http://www.coastandocean.org/coast_v23_no2_2007/articles/delta_01.htm

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