As other western provinces struggle to address the environmental and economic fallout from thousands of orphan oil and gas wells, only a tiny portion of Manitoba’s petroleum infrastructure is sitting idle and unclaimed. 

But it’s unclear, however, if the province’s small roster of orphan wells is the byproduct of effective regulation — or a historic lack of departmental oversight. Manitoba’s oil and gas industry is relatively small and generally opaque. None of the experts contacted for this story had direct knowledge of the province’s orphan-well landscape.

“My lab has probably measured the most non-producing wells in the country. I don’t think anybody I know is working on it [in Manitoba] who are in the academic realm,” Mary Kang, an associate professor in civil engineering at McGill University, says.

The province’s petroleum branch has only been compiling and sharing orphan-well data for the past five years. Its 2025 inventory lists 31 well sites without a legally or financially responsible owner, which make up less than one per cent of the 4,000 wells currently producing oil in Manitoba.

The reasons for this are many: Manitoba’s oil and gas industry is smaller than other western provinces, allowing for regular inspections of batteries and most producing wells, according to an emailed statement from a provincial spokesperson.

But the intricacies of regulation also differ across the provinces. At the same time, the government body tasked with keeping tabs on the issue has been chronically understaffed. Whether Manitoba offers a lesson for other provinces or if it should be eyeing the rapidly escalating orphan well inventories of its neighbours with caution remains to be seen.

Environmental impacts of old wells can include methane, contamination

Orphan wells are oil or gas drilling sites that have been left to languish without being properly cleaned up, often because the company that owns them has gone bankrupt. Wells are often thousands of metres deep and these sites can leak methane, a potent and volatile greenhouse gas, and contaminate soil, air and groundwater.

A 2025 study co-authored by Kang suggests Canada’s non-producing oil and gas wells emit a combined 230 kilotonnes of methane per year — a figure seven times higher than estimates from Environment and Climate Change Canada. Wells that have been properly sealed with cement and decommissioned are referred to as plugged or “abandoned.” Most orphan wells are not yet plugged.

“In general, plugged wells emit less [methane] and are less of an environmental concern,” Kang says, adding unplugged wells are a bigger concern. “But even among unplugged wells, some emit nothing and some emit a lot.”

Orphan well inventories can grow ‘in leaps and bounds’

Orphan wells are an issue that can expand quickly.

“The concern is that the inventory can grow in leaps and bounds from year to year. We just saw that happen here in Alberta,” Amanda Bryant, manager of the oil and gas program at the Pembina Institute, an Alberta-based environmental think tank, says. 

Alberta’s orphan-well inventory ballooned to more than 7,300 sites this year after thousands of wells owned by an insolvent Calgary-based oil company were transferred to the province’s Orphan Well Association.

The association — a non-profit funded by industry — is responsible for decommissioning and cleaning up orphan oil and gas sites. Alberta had fewer than 300 orphan wells when the organization was founded in 2002.

That exponential growth is due to poor provincial regulation, Bryant says. 

“The main problem is that there’s nothing stopping companies from deferring the costs of closure and cleanup,” she says. “The other half is the so-called liability-dumping behaviour that a lot of companies engage in.”

The practice of liability dumping cited by Bryant has made insolvency a growing concern as larger companies sell off risky assets to smaller companies, which critics say happens with too little financial vetting from the regulator.

As in Manitoba, oil and gas companies in Alberta are legally required to clean up well sites that are no longer in use. Yet, because the Alberta Energy Regulator provides no concrete timelines for closing unused wells, operators often leave the sites for years or decades to avoid paying clean-up costs. 

If a company files for bankruptcy prior to remediation, that cost is passed on to the Orphan Well Association. Taxpayers can be left footing some of  the bill for closure costs — which carry an estimated $1.66-billion price tag — due the association’s lack of adequate funding, while also covering delinquent oil and gas companies’ unpaid oil and gas land rent and taxes owed to municipalities.

To address the issue, the Pembina Institute has recommended increasing the orphan-well levy, enacting an escalating inactive-well fee and introducing strict timelines for cleanup.

The situation is similar in Saskatchewan, which has nearly 4,500 orphan wells, and British Columbia, which has 998.

Manitoba’s unique regulatory environment

Manitoba’s oil and gas industry is an outlier in several ways. 

For one, it has a comparatively small oil patch, which is concentrated in the southwest corner of the province and dominated by Tundra Oil & Gas — a locally owned subsidiary of James Richardson & Sons. 

It also differs in provincial regulation. Operators have to submit an application to suspend drilling at a well site to the petroleum branch. Suspensions are valid for a maximum of three years, after which the company needs to apply for an extension.

“What it means is that Manitoba has a much lower proportion of its wells that are in a suspended state,” Bryant says. “If [wells] sit there in a state of inactivity for a long time … there’s a risk that they’ll end up orphans, and so that’s a positive policy move that the province has taken.”

Unlike other provinces, where insolvency is a driving force, most of Manitoba’s orphan wells are the result of petroleum branch seizures following non-compliance of shutdown orders or failure to meet regulatory requirements, a provincial spokesperson said. 

If a seized well is capable of producing oil, the province can sell the facility or transfer the licence to a new owner.  

Nearly all of the companies with orphan wells are still actively drilling elsewhere in the oil patch.

Four inspectors are now employed in Manitoba’s petroleum branch, up from one

Manitoba has been addressing orphan wells for many years, according to the province, but only released its first consolidated inventory in 2021, with an update posted publicly last year. 

Of the 23 wells listed on the original inventory, all but six remained orphaned in 2025, according to a Narwhal/Free Press analysis of the publicly available records. The others were removed from the list after their status was updated to abandoned (as in, properly plugged) in 2022.

The 2025 batch of 25 seized wells is largely due to improved staffing capacity, allowing the department to clear a backlog of investigations, the spokesperson said.

Manitoba currently has four provincial petroleum inspectors, up from the single inspector employed in early 2024, when a major Imperial Oil pipeline shutdown prompted the government to address gaps in its monitoring program.

Mya Wheeler, a Winnipeg-based social scientist and researcher whose PhD thesis focused on the local oil and gas industry, found staffing was a perennial problem that undermined departmental efforts to adhere to legislated regulations. 

“As the ramping up of oil wells occurred, there was the same and then less staff, and there was a 600 per cent increase in drilling during the fracking boom,” she says.

“There’s not a lot of ability to make compliance happen because of low staffing.”

Eva Wasney is a reporter covering environmental issues in Manitoba. Her position is part of a partnership between The Narwhal and the Winnipeg Free Press.

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A northern Manitoba First Nation is calling for a voluntary closure of moose hunting in its traditional territory to protect the declining population and respond to what it sees as a lack of provincial intervention.

On Friday morning, Misipawistik Cree Nation issued a plea urging hunters to abstain from harvesting moose in provincial Game Hunting Area 10 — a 10,000-square-kilometre region of boreal forest north of Grand Rapids, Man. The request applies to this year’s moose-hunting seasons, which open Monday.

According to the province’s 2025 aerial big game survey, an estimated 281 moose reside in the area, roughly 60 of which are bull moose. That’s down from an estimated 346 moose in 2013, which the survey describes as a “relatively stable population” over the past decade.

This year, 124 licences and 62 bull moose tags were made available in the region during Manitoba’s annual hunting draw. 

“That is putting the entire population at risk of a collapse,” Misipawistik Chief Heidi Cook said in an interview with The Narwhal and Winnipeg Free Press ahead of the announcement. “There may be no moose next year. This is an emergency. We have to do something now to make sure that the population can recover.” 

According to an emailed statement from a provincial spokesperson, fewer hunters applied to the moose draw resulting in 37 licences allocated for the area with a projected harvest of nine bull moose this year.

The nation’s voluntary hunting closure begins immediately and runs through the fall and winter moose seasons, which close in December. There will be no enforcement of the closure, but members of Misipawistik’s Kanawenihcikewak Land Guardians program will be monitoring the game area and liaising with hunters, Cook said. 

The guardian program has been monitoring the local moose population and working to reduce poaching and roadkill incidents since 2018 after community hunters observed a decline in the number of animals in the area. Misipawistik hunters reportedly harvested no moose in the region during the 2025-26 season.

“Moose is an important cultural species for us. It’s not only a source of food, but the relationship surrounding a moose harvest — having that time as family groups to be on the land and maintaining those connections, and then passing on the intergenerational knowledge surrounding the moose harvest — all of that is lost,” Cook said.

In recent years, she said, local hunters have had to travel to Saskatchewan to find moose.

Misipawistik First Nation awaits court’s decision over case against Manitoba government’s moose hunting licences

Misipawistik has raised the concerns about moose hunting and food security with the province multiple times, including during a meeting with Natural Resources and Indigenous Futures Minister Ian Bushie earlier this year, Cook said.  

Minister Bushie did not respond to a request for comment by publication time. 

The First Nation filed a lawsuit against the provincial government last September, arguing licensed moose hunting infringes on the community’s Treaty Rights to harvest the animals for food on its traditional lands. The judge has yet to deliver a decision on the case.

“We need to take action as responsible hunters, people who care for the land and people who care for the moose, to self-regulate because there’s a failure on the part of the provincial government to do that right now,” Cook said.

Chris Heald, senior policy advisor with the Manitoba Wildlife Federation, a conservation organization representing hunters, commended Misipawistik’s intent, but said the number of tags issued by the province does not equate to the number of moose bagged during the season.

“Hunter success in that area traditionally has only been less than five per cent. So we’re talking about three or four moose, that’s likely all that gets harvested by licensed hunters,” Heald said. 

“The province thought this was a fair thing and if hunters are legally purchasing their licence and the season begins next week, then they should go,” he added.

Concerns around licensed moose hunting affecting Treaty Rights are shared with other First Nations in Manitoba

First Nations elsewhere in the province have also raised concerns about the impact of licensed hunting on moose populations and Treaty Rights.

Last fall, Bloodvein First Nation, located on the eastern shore of Lake Winnipeg, used a checkstop previously set up to prevent contraband goods from entering the nation to bar non-Indigenous hunters from entering its territory to harvest moose. The Manitoba Wildlife Federation asked the court for an interim injunction, but it was dismissed. 

Manitoba Keewatinowi Okimakanak, a political advocacy organization representing several northern First Nations, has repeatedly called on the province to cancel the draw for moose licences in the north, including in Game Hunting Area 10. The organization issued a statement Friday in support of Misipawistik’s voluntary hunting closure. 

In 2024, the provincial government reduced the number of licences available by 75 per cent in four northern hunting areas. The move sparked a legal challenge by Pimicikamak Cree Nation, which argued the decision affected its members and ran counter to Manitoba’s obligation to consult and prioritize Indigenous hunters under Treaty 5 and the 1977 Northern Flood Agreement. The case was dismissed. 

The province has recognized that moose in Manitoba face significant threats from hunting, predation, disease, habitat loss and climate change. It has issued hunting bans in the Duck Mountain, Porcupine Provincial Forest and Turtle Mountain areas. 

Eva Wasney is a reporter covering environmental issues in Manitoba. Her position is part of a partnership between The Narwhal and the Winnipeg Free Press.

Updated on Sept. 18, 2026, at 4 p.m. CT: This story has been updated with information on the number of moose licences allocated this year, provided by the Government of Manitoba after publication.

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It’s been a whirlwind year for tornado researchers in Manitoba. 

“It’s the busiest we’ve ever been, by far,” John Hanesiak, a professor in the department of environment and geography at the University of Manitoba, says. 

Hanesiak is a collaborator with the Northern Tornadoes Project, a national research program based at Western University that aims to better understand tornadoes in Canada.

Since late May, Hanesiak and his team have spent 43 days in the field surveying damage caused by tornadoes and severe weather events across Manitoba and Saskatchewan. Previous seasons have required a maximum of 19 days on the road. 

Fifteen tornadoes have touched down in Manitoba so far in 2026, including two within the city of Winnipeg — and that number could still rise as other storms are evaluated. It’s a substantial  jump from the six to eight that typically occur in the province each summer, but doesn’t surpass the record of 18 tornadoes set in 1991.

It’s been a similarly busy season nationally, with 121 tornadoes recorded from northern Alberta to Nova Scotia. According to the federal government, Canada records an average of 97 tornadoes annually. 

“This may end up being a year where we have the biggest tornado count overall,” David Sills, director of the Northern Tornadoes Project, says. 

And the season isn’t over yet. 

Why have there been so many tornadoes in Manitoba this year?

High levels of humidity and a series of particularly strong weather systems have resulted in the above-average tornado season, Hanesiak explains. 

A tornado is a rapidly rotating vortex of air that stretches from the base of a thunderstorm cloud to the ground. Four ingredients are needed to generate thunderstorms capable of producing tornadoes.

The first is high humidity, which acts as atmospheric fuel and can lead to more intense storms. Second is a high degree of instability in the upper atmosphere due to temperature changes. Third is a trigger that moves air upwards, such as a low-pressure trough or weather front that causes warm surface-level air to rise vertically like a hot air balloon. And fourth is wind shear, or sudden changes in wind speed and direction at higher altitudes.

After several years of drought conditions in Manitoba, these ingredients have been converging more frequently this summer thanks to a deluge of rain in June that led to widespread flash flooding. 

“That just helps humidity, so you have a lot of potential storm energy available,” Hanesiak says. “And we’ve had some pretty intense weather systems.” 

The tornado-producing storms in Manitoba and Saskatchewan in early June caused more than $840 million in insured damage, according to the Insurance Bureau of Canada.

Why does it take so long to confirm if a tornado has touched down?

Tornadoes are small, fast-moving events that can’t be tracked in real time with existing weather radar technology. Suspected tornadoes can only be verified through damage surveys; as well as reports, photos and videos from witnesses — the analysis of which takes time. 

Researchers use the Enhanced Fujita scale to determine a tornado’s intensity based on the extent and degree of damage to foliage, vehicles and infrastructure. The weakest tornadoes are rated EF-0 and have a minimum estimated wind speed of 90 kilometres per hour, while the strongest are rated EF-5 and can reach wind speeds of 315 kilometres per hour or higher — about as fast as the top speed of a Formula 1 race car.

Most tornadoes fall on the weaker end of the spectrum. The strongest to hit Manitoba this year was an EF-3 near Rossburn, Man., which reached a maximum estimated wind speed of 230 kilometres per hour, destroyed two homes and levelled trees. Canada’s only recorded EF-5 tornado landed in Elie, Man., in 2007.  

Tornadoes that occur in remote, unpopulated areas are often confirmed well after they make landfall. At the end of the season, Northern Tornadoes Project staff spend hundreds of hours combing through satellite imagery of Canadian forests to find evidence of unreported tornadoes, which look like long narrow scars from above. 

“We usually find somewhere between 15 and 30 new tornadoes that we didn’t know about,” Sills says. 

The project also tracks downbursts, which can produce damaging winds when air drops rapidly toward the ground during a thunderstorm. There have been five confirmed downbursts in Manitoba, including in Selkirk and Caddy Lake, and 47 across the country this year.

When and where do tornadoes occur in Manitoba?

The severe storm season typically begins in May and ends in September. While most occur in southern Manitoba, tornadoes have been reported as far north as Churchill, according to historic data from Environment and Climate Change Canada.

The majority of tornadoes take place in rural areas because most of the province is rural — but they can happen anywhere. Case in point: two EF-1 tornadoes landed within the city of Winnipeg this year.

The first destroyed a home in the Whyte Ridge neighbourhood and travelled more than six kilometres through southwest Winnipeg in June. The second tore through the River Heights neighbourhood on Sunday with estimated wind speeds of 155 kilometres per hour. No one was injured, but the storm left thousands of residents without power.

It’s a common misconception cities are less likely to experience tornadoes due to their taller buildings or higher temperatures (a.k.a. the urban heat island effect). This is false, according to Hanesiak. Urban tornadoes are rarer simply because cities make up a smaller proportion of the map. 

“It certainly happens,” Hanesiak says, adding urban sprawl may affect this dynamic in the future. “As cities get larger there’s a higher probability of actually getting hit.”

Changing storm trends may also increase the likelihood of tornado activity more broadly, Sills adds.

How is climate change affecting tornadoes?

More research is needed to understand the complex relationship between tornadoes and climate change, but Canada’s warm-weather storm season appears to be starting earlier and ending later, according to Sills.

“We believe that the severe storm season is actually extending,” he says. “If you have a longer season, there’s more chances for tornadoes, more chances for the really big stuff.” 

A warming planet is likely to alter weather patterns in ways that both encourage and hinder the development of tornadoes.

Wildfires, for example, are becoming more frequent and can produce their own extreme weather events, such as lightning and tornadoes. At the same time, drifting smoke can cut down on the amount of sunlight that reaches the ground, Sills explains, creating cooler temperatures and reducing the amount of solar energy available for thunderstorms. 

“It’s really not just a case of climate change equals more tornadoes. It’s changing by region, changing by season,” he says.

North America’s “tornado alley” is also moving eastward. Over the past 40 years in Canada, the number of tornadoes in the Prairies has gone down, while the number of tornadoes in Ontario and Quebec has gone up. This trend carries into the United States, representing a subtle but significant continental shift, Sills says.

Is tornado forecasting improving in Canada?

Yes, gradually. 

Environment and Climate Change Canada is responsible for issuing tornado warnings and severe weather alerts across the country. In August, the department rolled out a new system called Convective Alert Modernization, which was designed to reduce “alert fatigue” by enabling forecasters to deliver more precise warnings to targeted areas.

The timeliness and accuracy of the department’s tornado warnings have improved from an F to a C since 2019, according to independent annual report cards issued by the Northern Tornadoes Project.

The project’s scope has grown since its founding in 2017. The project is now under the umbrella of the new Canadian Severe Storms Laboratory, which also collects data on hail storms. Flash flooding — a worsening phenomenon owing to climate change — is the lab’s next priority. 

“Anything we can do as a community to help improve community resilience, improve the way the prediction is done, it all helps us adapt to this new reality,” Sills says.

Days after Sills spoke with The Narwhal and the Winnipeg Free Press, staff at the Northern Tornadoes Project were busy analyzing the aftermath of another Manitoba storm using ground and drone surveys.

The project confirmed two more tornadoes touched down in the province on Sunday — the one in River Heights, the second west of Elie — leaving swaths of splintered trees, toppled Hydro poles and damaged cars and homes in their wake.

Eva Wasney is a reporter covering environmental issues in Manitoba. Her position is part of a partnership between The Narwhal and the Winnipeg Free Press.

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.