Where the Ghost Bird Sings by the Poison Springs (Cont.)

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Outside Magazine February 2002

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Where the Ghost Bird Sings by the Poison Springs (Cont.)


	Birds of paradise: the end of the line in the shimmering Salton Sea

"NO FACE WHICH WE can give to a matter will stead us so well at last as the truth." That is what Thoreau wrote when he was measuring and meditating upon Walden Pond. "For the most part," he continued, "we are not where we are, but in a false position. Through an infirmity of our natures, we suppose a case, and put ourselves into it, and hence are in two cases at the same time, and it is doubly difficult to get out."

Throughout my researches into the New River and the Salton Sea, I found myself similarly in two cases at the same time. My fault lay in this: I had drunk in a certain doctrine, whose sources are as obscurely ubiquitous and whose substance is as tainted as New River water: that only an "expert" has the right to judge the acceptability of the water of life. The only way I could think of to decide the matter was to abrogate my own judgment and pay technicians to analyze a water sample from the river, and another from the sea. And then Iíd know, because a printed report would tell me. But I already knew the truth. The Salton Sea is ghastly. The New River is ghastly.

Squatting over the stinking green water a few steps from the spot where José and I had launched our dinghy, I lowered sterile sample bottles one by one in my latex-gloved hands, standing partly on a fresh human turd to avoid falling in. The chemical odor seemed more dizzying than usual. What was it? I was hoping to find out. I was angling for your basic herbicide-pesticide sweep, including the chlorinateds (EPA method 8151); a CAM-17 for heavy metals; a full method 8260, needless to say, with MTBE and oxygenates; a TPH (thatís total petroleum hydrocarbons to you); a surfactant; and a diesel test while I was at it. Originally Iíd craved a fecal coliform count so badly I could taste it, but Tom Kirk had told me that the levels of fecal coliform, high at the border, dipped and then rose again at the mouth of the Sea, thanks to all the birds. So to hell with it.

I took my Salton Sea sample up in North Shore. It seemed like a good place because it was far enough away from the New River to reflect the base level of filthiness, so to speak, and it was also good on account of all those fish bones and salt-stiffened feathers. There was only one dead bird on the beach this time, a fluffy little baby. On the pier a man was fishing, perhaps not impressed by the selenium health advisory strongly suggesting that no one eat more than four ounces of Salton Sea fish-meat per two weeks.

I got my two water samples analyzed at California Laboratory Services in Sacramento. Sample one was the New River. Sample two was the Salton Sea.

"On the chlorinated acid herbicides, your 2, 4-dichlorophenoxyacetic acid took a hit on sample one," said the lab man. "On sample two, everything was non-detect. Letís see now, your diesel in the very first sample took a very small hit; the second sample was non-detect. For metals your first sample showed beryllium and zinc, and your second had barium and selenium. Both samples were well below the maximum legal contaminant levels on all that. We ran the 8260 for volatiles plus oxygenates. Both samples were clean."

I inquired how my samples compared to other water theyíd tested.

"Relatively clean compared to other wastewater samples," the lab man said. "Theyíre certainly not nearly as nasty as some of our samples from Brazil, Singapore, and China."

I called up the Audubon Society man, Fred Cagle, whoíd always struck me as extremely levelheaded and independent. "Do these results surprise you?" I asked him.

"Not at all."

"Well, is the New River the most polluted body of water in North America, or one of the most polluted, or what?"

"Itís been getting cleaner," he said. "But it still gets that reputation. It depends on who you talk to. Theyíve found cholera, TB, all that kind of crap."

"What about the metals and organics, from pesticides?"

"It varies tremendously. Weíve taken hundreds of samples, and they all come out different. The stuff in the sediments may not be soluble; there are just so many variables. Of course you canít figure it out. Scientists canít figure it out."

"And those nine million pounds of agricultural chemicals you mentioned, where do they go?"

"Some of them break down, some of them get oxidized by bacteria. But we donít know that. Scientists get confused too."

"Would you agree that the Salton Sea is the most productive fishery in the world?"

"Itís the most productive fishery, but itís also the most limited fishery. All the fish are artificial. Weíre getting right close to the edge of the salinity window. And why spend $100 million to save a $10 million fishery? Tilapia are an amazing fish. You know, theyíre a freshwater fish, and in 30 generations theyíve modified themselves to live in the Salton Sea. But has anybody told you about the parasite levels on those fish? Theyíre enormous. Parasites are in their lungs, everywhere. The people who eat those fish might not enjoy them as much if they knew that."

"I still have a little smoked corvina left," I said. "Maybe I wonít send it to you."

"Good idea."

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