During a span of nine days in April, a Yukon mine dumped thousands of cubic metres of untreated wastewater into a gravel-lined sump that filters into groundwater and could leach into a nearby creek, according to a company report.  

Victoria Gold’s Eagle Gold Mine north of Mayo — the largest gold mine in Yukon history — discharged roughly 43 million litres (about 17 Olympic-sized swimming pools) of  contaminated water, as a result of increased runoff from snowmelt threatening to overflow one of the ponds used to collect mine wastewater, according to the report. 

The discharged water hadn’t been used as part of gold processing, but could have come into contact with the open-pit mine’s infrastructure, such as roads and waste dumps, for instance.

Due to the lack of capacity at the wastewater pond, the company had to funnel the excess water into a sump — a pit where water percolates through gravel lining and absorbs into the ground. The sump was used previously for excess runoff water during the mine’s construction.

“They basically took the water and pumped it straight into the sump without treatment,” said Lewis Rifkind, a mining analyst with the Yukon Conservation Society. If the company didn’t proactively divert the water, Rifkind said the problem could have been worse — the banks of the pond could have eroded, leading to even more water spilling over and flowing into a nearby creek. 

“The mining company dealt with the situation as best they could,” Rifkind said. “However, to do that, they had to put contaminated water into the groundwater system.”

Arsenic levels nearly four times allowable limit on one day

The suspended solids in the wastewater, which carry silt and plant matter, are the top concern for the company, according to the report. Using the sump was a means of settling sediment-laden water by filtering through the gravel and ground, which collects that sediment.

Chemical contaminants, such as arsenic, aren’t as easy to filter out. Arsenic is a highly toxic naturally occurring chemical that’s found in significant quantities in gold deposits. 

There are two operating mines in Yukon currently — Minto and Eagle. Coffee Gold and Casino are both under review. Map: Carol Linnitt / The Narwhal

Between April 20 and 28, as the wastewater was pumped into the sump, Victoria Gold’s discharge report shows that arsenic exceeded a limit of 0.053 milligrams per litre on three different days. On April 27, for instance, arsenic levels were more than four times the allowable concentration.

According to the World Health Organization, “long-term exposure to arsenic from drinking water and food can cause cancer and skin lesions.”

 It can also affect fish, Rifkind said. 

“Though we’re not talking about it yet, it can start entering the food chain,” he said.

Iron was also present in the discharged water. It only exceeded allowable limits of 6.4 milligrams per litre on April 27 at 6.95 milligrams per litre. 

Samples taken from the sump water and an inlet of the pond on April 21 were used to test the lethality on rainbow trout and a small plankton-like crustacean. Both were largely unaffected but longer term test results are pending, the report says.

Extent of environmental impacts still unknown

With gravity’s pull, the contaminated water may still be inching closer to Haggart Creek.

Contractors for Victoria Gold monitored the sump and creek water during the nine days of wastewater discharge. 

“We do not believe any water actually reached the creek,” John McConnell, president and CEO of Victoria Gold, told The Narwhal. “Monitoring suggests no acute impact to aquatic life downstream.”

He added that the company will continue to monitor whether there are downstream impacts in the future.

Contamination in the creek likely won’t show up on tests for quite a while, Rifkind said, and it’s unclear how quickly the contaminated water is travelling through the ground right now. “We’re going to have to watch this over the next couple of months, maybe even years to see if we’re going to see a spike in arsenic and things like that,” he said.

‘We’re going to have to start designing for extreme weather events’

This year, the Eagle Gold Mine site saw the highest recorded snowfall amount since 2007, 45 per cent more than the previous highest record, the report showed. Along with warmer than average temperatures, this meant a deluge for the mine to deal with, McConnell said.

While the effluent released at the sump saw the mine breach the limits of its water use licence, McConnell said that was a choice they had to make as the pond edged towards dangerously over-capacity. 

“We weighed contravening our licence or doing what’s best for the environment,” he said. “We decided to do what’s best for the environment.”

Eagle Gold mine. Photo: Bighouseproductions.ca

Rifkind said while the company made the right move, this event has presented a major blind spot. 

“It raises the question, how the hell could they not have anticipated this?” he said.

The issue has laid bare a design flaw, Rifkind said — the pond is too small to accommodate increasing rates of precipitation, which could intensify with climate change.

“If we’re serious about protecting groundwater, if we’re serious about protecting the environment, we’re going to have to start rethinking how these mines are laid out and we have to recognize that our current models and understanding of snowmelt, of rainfall and general impacts of climate change are woefully inadequate,” he said. “This will be the poster for this issue. We’re going to have to start designing for extreme weather events. It’s in the mining industry’s best interest to start considering these issues very seriously.”

Rifkind wants the wastewater pond to be expanded. He said using the sump as a natural filtration system for excess water presents its own set of challenges. 

“We shouldn’t rely on that because what happens is the soil and gravel underneath start to get saturated with contaminates, so over time the ability of the ground to absorb contaminants wears out,” he said.

A system for pumping excess wastewater into another pond on site was underway before the incident, McConnell said.

“The guys were already working on setting up the pump, but we got caught with our pants down because the weather warmed up faster than we expected.”

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.

In a shaky GoPro video taken deep underground, the so-called “snot” hangs from the ceiling and coats the floors. The dim light of flashlights and headlamps exposes the yellowish tinge of the shiny, gooey film.

The room is one of many subterranean tombs housing 237,000 tonnes of arsenic trioxide, a dusty powder deadly to humans and most other living things, far below the surface of Yellowknife, N.T.

Whatever is growing on the walls doesn’t seem to mind the poison; in fact, it seems to thrive in its presence.

Scientists have been looking at the biofilm and have even sequenced its genes. The slimy bacterium’s ability to live with dissolved arsenic could make it part of the solution to the intractable problem of dealing with 70 years’ worth of the stuff, the legacy of Giant Mine’s gold smelting process. Above all else, its ability to convert the arsenic at cold temperatures makes it especially valuable.

But despite headlines hailing the discovery as a potential solution to the arsenic problem, it’s not a silver bullet, explains Heather Jamieson, the geochemistry professor at Queen’s University who first took a sample of the bacterium from deep within the mine.

“I think saying it’s ‘cleaning up’ is way overstating the case,” she says. “It’s not any kind of magic solution.”

What the microbe can do is oxidize the arsenic — add a couple of oxygen atoms to the molecule — converting it to a less deadly form that is also easier to treat.

“But you can do the same thing using a chemical,” she writes later in an e-mail. “So it doesn’t really solve the problem. There is still as much arsenic in the water as before.”

Arsenic “snot” clings to the walls of an underground chamber in Giant Mine. Photo: Heather Jamieson (Submitted)

The arsenic trioxide dust, released from the rock as it was roasted to get the gold, was pumped underground during most of the mine’s life. Better there than in the air (in the early days of the mine, it was sending up to 7,400 kg of the dust out into the environment, sickening locals and even killing a Yellowknives Dene child) but it presents its own problems underground.

Dealing with the arsenic trioxide has been the central headache for the federal government since 2004, when it took over remediation of the mine from its bankrupt owner. The dust has meant that, barring an unforeseen technological breakthrough or unthinkable disaster, there will never be an end to the government’s role in keeping the site secure.

“This will never be a walk-away solution,” Brad Thompson, senior project manager for Public Works and Government Services Canada, told a group of reporters at the mine in mid-September.

He means that the government, and therefore taxpayers, will never walk away from Giant Mine — a feat that, for its owners, took just a flick of a pen. They mined $2.7 billion worth of gold, and then Canadians were left with the billion-dollar cleanup.

“These long-term environmental legacies and financial liabilities — the ‘zombies’ that stalk northern mine sites and communities — illustrate the fundamentally unsustainable nature of extractive industries such as mining,” wrote Arn Keeling and John Sandlos in the conclusion to their book, Mining and Communities in Northern Canada.

“[The] environmental liabilities associated with historic abandoned mines provide a potent reminder of the need for strict environmental assessment, public oversight, and regulation of new northern mineral projects in all phases of their operation.”

The void

The Giant Mine site still resembles a mine today in the level of activity on the surface: heavy machinery rumbles up and down the long roads, piles of rock and earth hold tailings water as it’s treated for arsenic and workers mill around in hardhats and reflective vests. The billion-dollar project is ramping up as it awaits a water licence from the territory that would allow the main work to be done.  

The goal, though, is to leave the site looking something like its previous form, before gold was ever discovered or mined there.

The townsite where miners and their families lived is being scraped down to the bedrock to remove contaminated soil, then refilled to create a livable neighbourhood. Even the sediment in the water will be dredged out so that people can swim there safely.

During operation, Giant Mine housed some workers and their families directly on site. Aside from cleaning the soil for arsenic, the residential area will also require removal of asbestos-filled homes; unlike the rest of the site, the townsite will be remediated to residential standards so it can one day be occupied again. Photo: Matt Jacques / The Narwhal

The residential area is at the end of Baker Creek, which runs through the site. Grayling are already swimming up the creek from Great Slave Lake and spawning there like they used to. It winds past what is currently an open pit, but which will soon be filled in; still, the creek is being rebuilt and diverted to avoid the potential for flooding the mine.

Water could transport the arsenic out of its protective chambers and into the environment, so the precautions are heavy: the engineers are preparing the new banks of Baker Creek for a flood even greater than a one-in-500-year event.

Much of the tailings rock is being stuffed back underground, filling the mine, in order to reinforce its tunnels and prevent a collapse that could prove catastrophic if it affected the chambers holding the arsenic.

One particularly large chamber — the engineers call it “the void” — is proving especially difficult to fill, requiring a thick layer of concrete as a backup to the tailings slurry.

‘The grey and ugly’

But some of the Giant Mine site will never look the same as it did before, and that is deliberate. A working group is trying to figure out ways to warn people about the monster underground.

“If somebody were to stumble across the Giant Mine site in 1,000 years, would he or she know that the site was contaminated with arsenic?” asks a report from the working group.

Next to the 360 shipping containers containing the arsenic-coated remains of the roaster and destined to be stuffed underground, there’s a wide-open plain where the rock will be deliberately left bare, with no soil or vegetation added.

Yellowknives Dene First Nation community members asked for this in consultations, calling it “the grey and ugly.”

Much of the wide-open area to the left of the image will be left bare, with a rock covering meant to convey the inhospitable nature of the place to future generations. Photo: Matt Jacques / The Narwhal

It’s meant to stand as a marker to future generations — people who may not share a language, culture or semiotic understanding with those of today — that this is not a safe place. That this is somewhere to be feared and avoided.

Another area is intended to warn off future people as well. The tall pipes carrying heat from below the surface to keep the arsenic frozen in place, the thermosyphons, are presumed to be a warning sign themselves, though it’s unclear how they would seem menacing to people who may not have any understanding at all of what they are for.

Even to those who have seen them before, they could be mistaken for the thermosyphons across the North that keep foundations frozen in the melting permafrost.

The designers are still working out how to make the site look sinister, uninviting, and dangerous, informed in part by the design of a nuclear storage facility in New Mexico.

A northern tradition

Giant mine is not alone as a contaminated site left behind for future generations to pay for. The North is riddled with them.

In mid-September I’m part of a small group of reporters arriving by bush plane at the Bullmoose-Ruth site, a complex consisting of several gold mines and exploration sites that were operational in the 1940s through to the 1980s. From the plane, we board a helicopter — the site is so vast that one aircraft gets us to the site while the other gets us around it.

The sprawling site today consists of filled-in mine shafts and deep trenches, scoured-out soil and backcountry landfills.

Like Giant mine, and like hundreds of smaller sites across the North, it was left in a state that posed risks to wildlife, to humans and to the environment.

Fuel drums were left rusting and leaking, holes were left gaping in the ground over 600-foot drops while equipment, vehicles and piles of trash were scattered across the site.

It was a big job in a remote area, requiring new ice roads and camps to be built in the bush.

At the Ruth mine site, the contaminated soil was scraped down to the bedrock and replaced with sand left behind by the last glaciation while three Olympic swimming pools’ worth of soil was treated and buried in a landfill.

The government decided to bury it on site instead of risking further contamination along the ice road; and besides, what do you do with that much hazardous material back in the city?

Messes like this are a holdover from when the world was thought to be big enough to treat this way — when the planet had no limits and the consequences of far-away activities bore no consequence to the folks back home.

Miners could drill holes and leave piles of ground-up toxic waste, tangled steel and even boxes of dynamite behind with no deposit against the cost of cleanup.

They could build roads and camps and have the luxury of believing they would have no lingering effects on the animals whose habitat was being fragmented and opened to new predators.

Finally, when the company went bust, they could walk away, dust off their hands and start digging someplace else.

The Faro Mine was once the world’s largest open-pit lead and zinc mine. The mine’s tailings pond stretches five kilometres along the Rose Creek valley. Photo: Matt Jacques / The Narwhal

When the owners of the Faro Mine declared bankruptcy in 1998, the company left behind more than 320 million tonnes of waste rock and 70 million tonnes of tailings. Photo: Matt Jacques / The Narwhal

After nearly 20 years of maintenance and remediation planning, more than $350 million has been spent via the Federal Contaminated Sites Action Plan but remediation isn’t expected to actually begin until 2022. Photo: Matt Jacques / The Narwhal

Adjacent to the mine site, Rose Creek winds through a wetlands ecoystem that feeds the Pelly River. Without remediation the Pelly and Yukon Rivers could become contaminated by toxic metals from the Faro Mine. Photo: Matt Jacques / The Narwhal

It happened at Giant Mine, it happened at Faro mine, it happened at Bullmoose, Colomac, Tundra, Eldorado, and so many more across the vast North that a $2.37 billion cleanup program has been established to deal with it all.

That’s enough money to operate the entire Northwest Territories government — its schools, roads, hospitals and all — for a year and a half.

It’s not that it isn’t needed now, or being spent appropriately (a 2016 audit found the Northern Contaminated Sites Program to be running almost flawlessly) but it’s a cost that never needed to be borne by taxpayers had there been adequate regulations in place.

Despite finishing ahead of schedule and under budget, the cost to clean Bullmoose-Ruth will be more than $20 million by the time the project wraps up. Even then, it will still require monitoring: the dams built to control water flow will need to be checked on and maintained forever.

“The mining industry often invokes the words reclamation, remediation, and restoration as a cornerstone of efforts to paint itself green,” wrote Keeling and Sandlos in a 2013 paper. “But such emphasis on the visual aesthetics of remediated landscapes obscures as much as it reveals about abandoned mines. As important as it may be to repair the uglier side of extensive, open-pit mining operations, in many cases it is the unseen (or more accurately, the unseeable) impacts of mining that pose the gravest long-term threat to ecological and human health.”

As we leave one part of the far-flung site in the helicopter, a government official points out the aircraft window at rusted fuel barrels that were discovered after the cleanup finished.

Two of the three barrels that were discovered just outside the area of the remediation contract after the remediation finished. Photo: Jimmy Thomson / The Narwhal

They, along with other debris that’s still being discovered, will have to be airlifted out. Even the cleaned-up parts of the site bear the markings of a heavily disturbed landscape, cut up and bulldozed.

We take off from a cleared area between the landfill and a wetland water treatment project. The wash from the propellers blows a cloud of dust across a square test area not much larger than an ambitious home garden, where a few seedlings are taking root.

In a new approach to revegetation, the seeds being planted here aren’t brought in from the south, or grown in nurseries; they’re collected from the trees immediately surrounding the patch. Using the most local seeds possible makes sure the plants that will grow there are the right ones for that particular area, and it gives them the best chance to take root and thrive.

Even so, plants grow slowly in the North, stunted by the cold and the dry air and the wind that whips past the nutrient-poor soil.

It will be decades before the shrubs and grasses and trees grow back to cover the bare ground, and much longer before the site looks anything like it did before its short stint as a mine turned it upside down.

If it ever does.

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.

Even though it was closed decades ago, the Giant Mine on the outskirts of Yellowknife has left a long environmental legacy.

The gold extraction process, which required roasting ores at extremely high temperatures, created a toxic byproduct called arsenic trioxide. For about 55 years (1948-2004), arsenic and other toxic elements were released into the environment, causing widespread contamination of the terrestrial and aquatic ecosystems around Yellowknife.

About 237,000 tonnes of arsenic trioxide dust is buried underground, and several nearby lakes show arsenic contamination.

Elevated arsenic levels have also been reported in soil, vegetation and fish around Yellowknife, but we knew little about how it has affected the health of the small mammals that live in the area.

Many of these fur-bearing animals are still being trapped for their pelts and for food, so knowing their arsenic levels is also important for human health.

Weak bones

Small mammals can serve as sentinels for environmental contamination. Snowshoe hares (Lepus americanus) live in a relatively small area and eat soil, so they are likely to accumulate higher levels of arsenic and other trace metals from the environment.

Exposure to elevated levels of arsenic can cause damage to the liver and other organs. And cadmium, a toxic metal and another byproduct of the gold extraction process, can replace calcium in the bones, leading to bone deformities and weakness.

In humans, chronic arsenic exposure (usually from water) can lead to changes in skin colour, skin growths and cancers of the skin, lung and internal organs.

When we measured arsenic and cadmium levels in hares living within two kilometres of the Giant Mine and compared them to hares living about 20 kilometres away from Yellowknife, the results were striking.

The arsenic levels in the guts of snowshoe hares living near the Giant Mine were 20-50 times greater than those living away from it. We also saw higher concentrations of arsenic in the organs and nails of the Giant Mine hares.

Cadmium levels were also higher but the difference wasn’t as marked. Hares from both locations had weaker bones and showed signs of osteoporosis, probably due to chronic exposure to cadmium.

Ecological implications

This chronic exposure to elevated levels of arsenic and cadmium may explain why snowshoe hares living near the Giant Mine are in poor health.

Wildlife living in metal contaminated areas in other parts of the world have also shown problems with reproduction, osteoporosis, neurological damage and chronic metabolic disease. But in Canada, it’s the first time we’ve seen small wild mammals with chronic arsenic poisoning.

The high levels of pollutants could compromise the long-term survival of the snowshoe hare and other small mammals in the Yellowknife area.

The high arsenic and cadmium burden in hares could have consequences for other animals that prey on them, such as foxes, wolves or other carnivorous mammals, and for the people who hunt them.

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.

This is a guest post by David Suzuki.

When a tailings pond broke at the Mount Polley gold and copper mine in south-central B.C., spilling millions of cubic metres of waste into a salmon-bearing stream, B.C. Energy and Mines Minister Bill Bennett called it an “extremely rare” occurrence, the first in 40 years for mines operating here.

He failed to mention the 46 “dangerous or unusual occurrences” that B.C’s chief inspector of mines reported at tailings ponds in the province between 2000 and 2012, as well as breaches at non-operating mine sites.

This spill was predictable. Concerns were raised about Mount Polley before the breach. CBC reported that B.C.’s Environment Ministry issued several warnings about the amount of water in the pond to mine owner Imperial Metals.

With 50 mines operating in B.C. — and many others across Canada — we can expect more incidents, unless we reconsider how we’re extracting resources.

Sudden and severe failure is a risk for all large tailings dams — Mount Polley’s waste pond covered about four square kilometres, roughly the size of Vancouver’s Stanley Park. As higher-grade deposits become increasingly scarce, mining companies are opting for lower-grade alternatives that create more tailings. As tailings ponds grow bigger and contain more water and waste than ever before, they also become riskier. The average height of a Canadian tailings dam doubled from 120 metres in the 1960s to 240 metres today. Alberta writer Andrew Nikiforuk likens increasing mining industry risks to those of the oil sands.

Like what you're reading? Help us bring you more. Click here to support DeSmog Canada's Kickstarter campaign to clean up the climate and energy debate in Canada.

Open ponds of toxic slurry aren’t the best way to manage mining waste. Although there’s no silver-bullet solution, and more research funding on alternative technologies is needed, smaller underground mines are finding safer ways to deal with waste by backfilling tailings. Drying tailings or turning them to a paste before containment are two other options. Safer solutions cost more, making them less popular with profit-focused corporations. But surely B.C.’s $8-billion mining industry can afford to pay more for public and environmental safety.

The government allows the mining industry to choose the cheapest way to deal with waste, and companies often lack adequate insurance to cover cleanup costs when accidents happen. Imperial Metals admits its insurance will likely fall far short of what’s required to repair the damage at Mount Polley.

The mining industry and provincial and federal governments must do a better job of managing risks. But how can this happen when we’re facing unprecedented dismantling of Canada’s environmental regulations and decreased funding for monitoring and enforcement?

Although the B.C. government rightly appointed an independent panel of three top mining engineers to review the cause of the Mount Polley breach and report back with recommendations, the lack of an environmental or cultural perspective on the panel makes it unlikely we’ll see meaningful industry reform. And even the most thorough reviews remain ineffective without implementation commitments — a point made clear by the federal government’s failure to act on the Cohen Commission’s 75 recommendations on the decline of Fraser River sockeye.

Canada’s mining industry must also work more closely with First Nations, some of which are challenging industrial activity in their territories. The Tahltan blockaded Imperial Metals’ nearly completed mine in the Sacred Headwaters, and the Neskonlith Indian Band issued an eviction notice to an Imperial subsidiary, which proposed an underground lead-and-zinc mine in Secwepemc Territory in the B.C. Interior. With the Supreme Court’s Tsilhqot'in decision affirming First Nations’ rights to land and resources within their traditional territories, we’re likely to see more defending their lands against mining and other resource extractions.

The Mount Polley tailings spill threatens two of B.C.’s most valued resources: salmon and water. As one of the largest sockeye runs enters the waterways to spawn, we must wait to find out the long-term repercussions for Polley Lake, Quesnel Lake and aquatic life further downstream.

This disaster has eroded public trust in the mining industry and regulations governing it. If risks are too high and long-term solutions unavailable or too expensive, the only way to ensure that toxic tailings are kept out of our precious waterways and pristine landscapes may be to avoid mining in some areas altogether.

As the government rallying cry of “world-class safety standards” echoes in our ears, it’s time we lived up to our self-proclaimed reputation.

Written with contributions from David Suzuki Foundation Communications Specialist Jodi Stark.

Learn more at www.davidsuzuki.org.

Image credit: Photo by Carol Linnitt. Sludge from the spill carries out into Quesnel Lake. 

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.

“I planned on dying here,” Skeed Borkowski, owner of the Northern Lights Lodge, told me. “But not from drinking the water.”

The lodge, located on Quesnel Lake, is one of many local homes and businesses left to hang precariously in the aftermath of the Mount Polley mine spill that released billions of litres of mining waste into the local environment, including Quesnel Lake.

On August 4th a massive tailings pond holding waste water and sediment from the Imperial Metals gold and copper mine breached, sending a mixture of contaminants including arsenic, mercury, selenium, zinc and lead into Polley Lake and Hazeltine Creek, which flows into Quesnel Lake.

“I’m 66,” Skeed said. “My wife is 64. This was the time that we were going to…take it a little easier.

“I don’t see that in the cards right now.”

The dream

The day I went to visit Skeed at the Northern Lights Lodge, eight days had passed since the spill.

“I think it hit me more yesterday for some reason,” he said. “I made my first disconnection from the lake.”

When I drove up Skeed was working next to a water pump, one of four that feeds the lodge with water pulled directly from Quesnel Lake. Seeing the water pump slumped on the lawn bothered Skeed like an exposed nerve. Surfacing those pumps was all too much like pulling up roots.

“And I’m not an emotional guy. I wrestle grizz,” he laughed. “I mean, look at this,” he said, surveying his property. “The work that we have done here, all these docks, everything you see, all these cabins…”

Skeed and his wife Sharon bought the 1942 lodge 18 years ago and spent their life savings rebuilding it into one of Canada’s premier fly-fishing destinations.

A sign welcomes visitors to the Northern Lights Lodge on the shore of Quesnel Lake. Photo: Farhan Umedaly

He walked me up to the main lodge. The exposed wooden beams were decorated with colourful flies in the kitchen. The main room had all the rustic allure of a classic fishing lodge: dark wood, stone arched fireplace, mounted moose heads, board games.

Fishing flies on the kitchen walls of the Northern Lights Lodge. Photo: Carol Linnitt

For 16 years they have been running fishing tours, Skeed said as he flipped through a photo album of past guests. “Look at them,” he said of a couple laughing, holding up a rainbow trout. “This is what we give to people.”

The fireplace mantel at the Northern Lights Lodge. Photo: Carol Linnitt

The common area at the Northern Lights Lodge. Photo: Carol Linnitt

The last cast

At the beginning of the summer Skeed and Sharon made a big decision. They were going to switch over to long-term renters and host their final full-scale fly-fishing tour.

When the couple sent out email invitations to former guests, the response was overwhelming. “In nine days we sold 42 trips,” he said, setting them up for a busy final season.

To commemorate the event, Skeed even had hats made. They read: “The Last Cast.”

“This was going to be our year,” Skeed said. “I tell people that we’re going to slow down a bit, because we’re cramming for finals. This is the time and it’s ironic that this hat says the last cast,” Skeed said, holding onto the memento.

All but one of the groups cancelled their trip. Although, Skeed said, only two individuals wanted refunds. “Everybody has become such good friends, saying ‘let’s just hold off until next year – don’t worry about it right now, you’ve got a lot on your plate,’” he said.

But for Skeed, the promise of a return to normalcy isn’t anywhere on the horizon.

The spill

Skeed said he and his wife Sharon received a phone call at five in the morning from Sharon’s brother who worked at the mine. The mine’s tailings pond breached, he told them.

“We went out on our deck and it was like standing next to Niagara Falls. I’ve done it – and it was that loud here,” Skeed said. “One of the guys in town described it like a jet and that’s what it was like. That went on…probably 12 hours.”

Skeed and his wife put their boat in the water and travelled up the lake to warn other residents and campers. When they approached Hazeltine Creek, where tailings waste was flooding into Quesnel Lake, they were stopped by rough waters and debris.

“We could view the Hazeltine from probably half a mile away and you could see the slurry and the waves boiling out over the logs at that point,” he said.

The couple settled on using a blow horn to warn others on the lake. Skeed said they didn’t know what they were facing at that point.

“We didn’t know what to expect.”

Skeed returned to the mouth of the Hazeltine a day later to survey the wreckage.

“Some of those logs, I mean, they were three feet in diameter, and they were just broken like toothpicks,” he said.

A partial view of the debris field at the mouth of Hazeltine Creek in Quesnel Lake. Photo: Farhan Umedaly

“I’ve been a logger. I’ve done a lot of things out here, being here this long. I don’t think there’s a piece of equipment out there that could break logs like that. The force was so tremendous.”

“It’s gone”

Skeed said he never received a phone call from any officials or emergency responders about the accident at the Mount Polley mine. But when Premier Christy Clark arrived in town amidst a flurry of cameras, Skeed said locals were assured things would be okay.

“The cheerleaders came to town and told us it was all going to be alright, and we’re going to make sure the tourism industry was going to be saved and they were really going to promote the area,” Skeed said.

But for a business owner like Skeed, the damage to Quesnel Lake has already been done.

“I don’t care what they do up there. Number one, they can’t fix it,” he said.

Quesnel Lake is one of the deepest fjord lakes in the world. The debris field from the Mount Polley mine spill can be seen in the distance. Photo: Carol Linnitt

The blight of an industrial accident of this scope will remain on the area indefinitely, Skeed said. He said even a basic online search of Quesnel Lake will live with a post-spill “red flag…forever.”

But of even more concern for Skeed is the amount of toxic waste that made its way into the lake, the effects of which won’t be known for some time.

“They can’t take those toxins out,” he said. “They’ll dissipate. They’ll disappear. But I will never, ever, ever drink out of this lake again. You couldn’t convince me.”

“But the reality of it is, we don’t even know what’s going to happen to this. And the unknown is what’ll keep people from coming here. If you had the choice would you want to take your kids swimming here?”

“I would never bring my family here,” he said.

Skeed’s prized fishing spot in September is Mitchell River, up the lake past Hazeltine Creek. He said he would set off with guests early in the morning before dawn, traveling up the lake in the silence to watch daybreak on the water.

“There’s times where I’ll go up there and you don’t pass a boat, it’s so pristine. And you just put a cup over the side of your boat and drink the water. It‘s astounding,” Skeed said.

The lodge provides bottled drinking water to guests on day trips, but Skeed prefers to carry along nothing more than a simple cup. He said he encouraged guests to drink the water, straight from the lake.

“I would say 30 per cent of the people after watching me do that – and it’s hard for them, they’re just not used to it — they’ll actually take a drink and they’ll go ‘that was just so cool.’ ”

“There aren’t many places like that,” Skeed said. “Especially this one. It’s gone.”

Accountability

“Everyone comes around to the, ‘well they’ve got to make this right with you.’ You know, that’s – they do have to make it right with us – but the most important thing here is our water,” Skeed said.

“I don’t know what they can do about it.”

Skeed holds up a photo of gold he and his wife, Sharon, panned at a local placer mine. Photo: Carol Linnitt

Already Skeed feels resident’s concerns are being overshadowed by officials, eager to reboot the local economy.

“You can’t suddenly bombard [people with] advertising and tourism and deny that this happened. How many people are going to be convinced [by] the government… putting on this big ad campaign?” he said, adding sarcastically, “everybody trusts the government.”

It will take a lot more than a government advertising campaign to win back Skeed’s trust.

“I misunderstood them,” Skeed said. “I possibly misunderstood them, because they mentioned about really addressing damage control and I didn’t realize it was for the mine and for themselves.”

“I thought we’d be thrown in as people that have received damage.”

He gestured to his property, “how many people do you see walking around my lawns?”

Beyond having the concerns of local businesses addressed, Skeed wants to see the provincial government and Imperial Metals, owner of the Mount Polley mine, take ownership of the accident.

“If they would only tell the truth rather than covering their own butts,” he said.

“Man up. Man up and say we made a mistake, we’re at fault. And the word is fault. It’s not ‘we’re taking responsibility for this.’ It’s not responsibility — it’s a fault issue,” he said.

“It’s their damn fault, not the dam’s fault. It’s their damn fault.”

This article is published as part of a joint-venture between the Vancovuer Observer and DeSmog Canada.

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.

As we pull up to the mouth of the Hazeltine Creek, where billions of litres of mining waste from the Imperial Metals Mount Polley mine spilled into Quesnel Lake on August 4th, I’m thinking to myself what numerous locals have recently said to me: this shouldn’t have happened.

All of the warning signs were present that the waste pit for the mine was overburdened: employees raised the alarm, government citations were issued, engineering reports contained warnings.

It shouldn’t have happened, and yet it did.

And now local residents and First Nations will shoulder the full, long-term burden of the accident on the environment, the significance of which won’t be truly know for decades to come.

If you visit the town of Likely, B.C. (which you should because the entire region, much of it unaffected by the spill, is stunning and the locals beyond hospitable) you’ll hear a lot of support for the mining industry, but a growing frustration over irresponsible management and lack of oversight.

British Columbians should know, however, that less oversight and regulation is exactly what is being promised to the extractive industry at both the provincial and federal level.

In June Christy Clark recently congratulated Bill Bennett, B.C.’s minister of energy and mines, for ridding industry of ”red tape” surrounding new mining projects. According to a mandate letter, over the next year Bennett is expected to “encourage mine development across the province” and work with the Ministry of Finance to extend new mining allowances.

Bennett is also expected to “support the development of new mines and major mine expansions by working with industry…to ensure that BC’s mines permitting process is the best in Canada.”

Nowhere are more strident environmental standards, best practices, addressing community concerns or responsible development mentioned in the minister’s mandate.

On the federal level changes made to Canada’s environmental legislation in the infamous Omnibus Budget Bill C-38 also pave the way for less regulatory oversight as well as fewer and less-robust environmental assessments before projects are built or expanded.

Omnibus Budget Bill C-45, released soon after C-38, made massive changes to the Navigable Waters Protection Act, effectively removing 99.7 per cent of Canada’s lakes and 99.9 per cent of Canada’s rivers from federal environmental oversight.

The new legislation also makes it very difficult for citizens to participate in hearings (if hearings are even open to the public, which isn’t the case for the Kinder Morgan Trans Mountain expansion) where their testimonies can play a role in discussing the feasibility and desirability of a project in a specific area.

Under the new laws permits, like the ones Imperial Metals was obliged to obtain in order to expand mining operations at Mount Polley, can be approved without an environmental assessment. New mining projects and expansions are now positioned to occur without due scientific and environmental review or public input.

That means local residents will have less information and less say in the decision-making process about projects that stand to affect them the most.

The city of Kamloops is currently fighting the proposed Ajax mine, a mega gold and copper mine that would not only operate a massive tailings facility mere kilometres from the Coquihalla Highway but would be built directly on top of the Kinder Morgan Trans Mountain pipeline.

An accident of the scale at Mount Polley would be catastrophic so close to the city limits of Kamloops, the tournament capital of B.C.

In B.C.’s 2012 Mining Strategy, Christy Clark said the province is on track to meet its Jobs Plan target of opening eight new mines and expanding nine others by 2015.

The promise of expanded mining in this province is being made before appropriate public consultation and environmental safety reviews, not to mention adequate First Nations consent.

The push for industrial development appears top priority, no matter what the social and environmental costs.

Similarly the province is pushing for new oil pipelines and LNG projects that communities have explicitly fought to prevent or, in some cases, voted against.

The residents of Likely, just like many other British Columbians, have high expectations for both government and industry. But with the collapse of the tailings pond wall has come a collapse of trust, something I hope our provincial government and Imperial Metals will work overtime to rebuild.

If the breach of the Mount Polley tailings pond can bring anything into sharper relief for British Columbians, it is that our relationship with industry in this province is heading in the wrong direction.

If we want to avoid the caution tape, we’re going to have to rethink our perspective on red tape.

Industry needs productive, safe and enabling parameters to work within and British Columbians deserve to rest assured that our business leaders and elected representatives are engineering those limits right – with a foundation much stronger than that of the Mount Polley tailings pond.

Image Credit: Imperial Metals' Mount Polley Mine. Photo by Carol Linnitt.

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.

It has been 10 days since the tailings pond holding billions of litres of mining waste breached at the Mount Polley mine near Likely, B.C. sending arsenic and mercury-laced water and slurry into the Hazeltine Creek which feeds Quesnel Lake, a major source of drinking water and home to one quarter of the province’s sockeye salmon.

Yet local residents still have no idea when clean up of the spill site might begin.

On a recent trip to the spill site, DeSmog Canada learned no cleanup crews are currently working on removing the tremendous amount of mining waste clogging up what used to be the Hazeltine Creek and spreading out into Quesnel Lake.

David Karn, media relations with the ministry of environment, was unable to provide information or comment on an expected cleanup date or who would be performing the cleanup, industry or government.

Imperial Metals, also reached out to for comment, was unable to respond by the time of publication.

On Tuesday, August 12, representatives from the Cariboo Regional District (CRD) announced a local drinking water ban placed on Quesnel Lake and the Quesnel River would be lifted after sampling showed the water was safe for consumption.

A water use ban remains in effect for 100 metres surrounding the debris field at the convergence of the Hazeltine Creek and Quesnel Lake.

Coralee Oakes, local MLA and minister of community, sport and development told DeSmog Canada that regular water testing will continue and that sample results will be made available online. The CRD will continue to supply residents and tourists with free drinking water and temporary showers at a forestry camp.

But community members have expressed concern over the remnants of the spill, which sit leaching into the lake, and a large cloudy plume of suspended solids in the water, visible from the air.

Richard Holmes, fisheries biologist with Cariboo Envirotech and local resident for 38 years, said sophisticated equipment is needed to survey the extent of the spill underwater.

“We’re talking with industry about getting some underwater cameras in there,” he said.

Holmes is working with the Soda Creek First Nation to ensure First Nations are involved in cleanup efforts, once they begin.

In the meantime, locals are left to speculate about lingering contaminants in their water.

Despite the recently-lifted drinking water ban, many residents admitted they will not drink the water.

Freshwater expert and biogeochemist Dr. David Schindler said random, localized sampling of contaminated water “may not detect the damage done.”

“I understand that considerable arsenic, mercury, cadmium, lead and copper were among the elements released,” he said. “All are extremely toxic.”

Schindler said he suspects the biggest long-term threat lies in areas where sediment from the spill overlaps with spawning and rearing habitat for fish.

“In the St. Lawrence River, most of the contamination of fish with mercury occurs at a few sites where contaminated sediment is deposited and [which] fish also use for feeding or nursery habitat,” he said.

But detailed knowledge of spill sites is usually scant, he said. “Unfortunately, there is not this basic sort of information available for most sites and the sampling done after an accident is more or less random.”

“Our monitoring of habitats around all industrial sites in important aquatic systems in this country is in serious need of upgrading,” he said. “Without background information on fish populations, habitats and toxic concentrations, it is almost impossible to determine how much damage is done.”

“Sometimes it is hard to believe that the lack of pre-accident information is not deliberate,” he said.

This article is part of a joint-venture between the Vancouver Observer and DeSmog Canada.

Image Credit: Carol Linnitt

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.

It’s Monday, August 11th, and both my gumboots are dangerously sinking into the muck I’m trying to cross.

I took far too bold a step towards a sturdy log ahead as I’m trying to cross a sludge river left behind in the wake of the Mount Polly mine tailings pond breach.

Now I’m balanced precariously, one boot in front, one behind, and trying not to topple into the muck beneath that could contain high levels of arsenic, mercury, zinc, lead and selenium – all toxins and heavy metals stored in the breached tailings pond fed by the Imperial Metals gold and copper mine near Likely B.C.

It has been one week since the waste pond wall breached, sending an estimated 10 million cubic metres (or 10 billion litres) of waste water and 4.5 million cubic metres of sandy sludge into the Hazeltine Creek that feeds Quesnel Lake. (For comparison, the Kalamazoo oil spill in Michigan totaled an estimated 3.3 million litres).

A field of debris and dried sediment from the Imperial Metals tailings pond can be seen pouring out of what once was Hazeltine Creek into Quesnel Lake. Photo by Farhan Umedaly, Vovo Productions. 

It’s at the convergence of the Hazeltine and Quesnel Lake that I now find myself, arms outstretched to maintain my balance, and sinking.

I finally manage to rock myself back far enough to regain balance on my back foot. I gently maneuver my front foot back and forth to relieve the suction around my boot. If I topple over I will plunge my bare hand into the sludge which, at this stage, contains an unknown mixture of chemical compounds known to cause cancer and birth defects. I didn’t know this until later, but even short-term exposure to selenium can cause respiratory problems like pulmonary edema or bronchial pneumonia.

A mud boulder sits in the deep sludge from the Mount Polley mine tailings pond. Photo by Carol Linnitt.

Like everyone else around here, I have imperfect knowledge of just what health effects to fear in the wake of the spill.

Maybe I should have worn that damn mask.

But that might have rubbed my guide, local carpenter Tate Patton, the wrong way.

Tate Patton, resident of Likely, B.C. lives on the shore of Lake Quesnel. Photo by Carol Linnitt.

Like a lot of local residents, Patton doesn’t like to play up the ‘disaster porn’ aspect of the accident. Having an out-of-towner tromping around in the wreckage taking selfies with a garish facemask is exactly what most residents are looking to avoid.

Despite the anger aroused by the incident at the Mount Polley tailings facility, a lot of folks in the community around Likely B.C. want to focus on recovery, rather than regret.

What was once the Hazeltine Creek is now a contaminated field of sludge and debris. Photo by Carol Linnitt.

There was no chance of traversing the deep muck, I realized, not without waders.

I manage to back track successfully to more solid ground. I survey my surroundings for another route closer to what remains of Hazeltine Creek. No dice.

Soft silty mud from the spill. Photo by Carol Linnitt.

The spill caused a massive mudslide down the once humble creek bed, expanding its width from a mere six feet, to an incredible 150 metres.

As the material from the tailings pond flooded down the creek it tore at the surrounding forest, stripping the bank of trees, boulders and vegetation. The debris field at the mouth of the Hazeltine Creek stretches for more than a kilometer across.

A portion of the debris field shows the massive amounts of trees pulled down by the flood of tailings pond water and waste. Photo by Farhan Umedaly, Vovo Productions.

Ropes slung to the shore are used to contain the stacks of limbless trees, stripped of their branches and bark from their violent tumble down the creek.

Ropes secured to the shore contain the debris field in Quesnel Lake. Photo by Carol Linnitt.

The mixture of sediment, fine sand, chemicals and heavy metals that collects at the bottom of tailings ponds is known as “slurry.” According to Gerald MacBurney, a former tailings foreman at the Mount Polley mine, the water from the tailings pond is less of an environmental concern than the slurry. “That’s where all the nasty stuff is,” he told me.

Tate Patton, who brought me to Hazeltine Creek, said it took hours for the tailings pond to drain out, the roaring sound of the flood carrying down Quesnel Lake for over six hours.

“I live about five or six miles down the lake and you could hear the sound from there for hours until the wind switched direction and you couldn’t hear it as well,” Patton said.

For several hours the tailings waste and debris poured into Quesnel Lake, one of the world’s deepest glacial fjord lakes. To this day no one knows quite how deep the lake is. The deepest recorded measurement reached down 610 metres. The lake is home to a quarter of the province’s sockeye salmon and is world famous for its brightly coloured rainbow trout among fly fishers.

Debris stretches across the shore near the mouth of the Hazeltine Creek. Photo by Farhan Umedaly, Vovo Productions.

Temperatures of the water flowing out of Quesnel Lake can quickly fluctuate eight degrees, leading hydrogeologists to theorize about complex water currents and circulation within the waterbody.

Patton said the depth of the lake is a bonus when it comes to dilution of the spill materials. “We have a lot of pluses,” he said. “The water is deep, the levels are high right now, and we haven’t had much rain.”

When the floodwaters subsided, a wide river of slurry and mud had entirely replaced Hazeltine Creek, leaving fluvial fans of sludge along low-lying areas and trailing into Quesnel Lake.

Sludge from the spill carries out into Quesnel Lake. Photo by Carol Linnitt.

At the base of the creek the floor of the lake quickly drops out. Sediment from the spill poured out into the depths leaving only a plume of suspended solids, visible only from the air, behind.

What remains of the spill on land sits caked in tailings waste. No clean up or dredging of the creek bed or debris area is expected until additional pumping of tailings waste from Polly Lake is complete.

Tate Patton points to beaver tracks in mud from the spill. Photo by Carol Linnitt.

Patton pointed at a beaver track in the drying mud. “Lots of animal tracks around here,” he said.

Bloomberg journalist Christopher Donville (left), Tate Patton (centre) and author Carol Linnitt (right) journey back to the town of Likely. The debris field is just visible in the background. Photo by Farhan Umedaly, Vovo Productions.  

We took a final survey of the scene as the sun retreated behind Mount Polley. Patton stopped the boat on the way back in to dislodge broken sticks and branches from the outboard motor.

“That’s a camp site, over there,” he said, pointing to an area not more than two kilometres from the mouth of Hazeltine Creek. “They were evacuated. Must have been terrifying,” he said. “Must have been loud.”

This article is published as part of a joint-venture between the Vancouver Observer and DeSmog Canada.

All images by Carol Linnitt and Farhan Umedaly, Vovo Productions.

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.

There were audible scoffs from the crowd Tuesday as Cariboo MLAs told residents in Likely, B.C. that the drinking water ban has been lifted for areas near the Mount Polley mine where a tailings pond breached Monday, August 4th sending billions of litres of mining wastewater and solid materials into Hazeltine Creek and Quesnel Lake.

The drinking ban remains in effect for Mount Polley, Hazeltine Creek and an area 100 metres immediately surrounding the visible sediment plume at the mouth of the Hazeltine Creek where debris and sludge from the spill poured into Quesnel Lake, the primary source of drinking water for local residents.

At a small community press conference on the edge of the Quesnel River in Likely, B.C. Donna Barnett, MLA for the Cariboo-Chilcotin and parliamentary secretary for forests, lands and natural resource operations for rural developments, said, “this is a good news story.”

Residents have been dealing with uncertainty since last week, she said. “Well, finally we can give you some certainty.”

The announcement follows the release of a Ministry of Environment water test that found water from Polley Lake to be near “historical levels” taken prior to the tailings breach.

A press release on the Interior Health website states “Interior Health has no reason to believe that this water was ever exposed to unsafe levels of contaminants from the mine breach.”

Coralee Oakes, minister of community, sport and cultural development for the Cariboo region, told a small crowd that had gathered, “The results have come back from…our chief medical office for this region who is independent of government [and] has come forward…to announce that we will be removing the drinking water, recreation and fishing ban.”

A small crowd gathered on the banks of the Quesnel River in Likely, B.C. August 12 to hear the water ban for the area was mostly rescinded. Photo by Carol Linnitt.

Yet locals have expressed significant concern over water quality issues, even after the drinking water ban was partially lifted Sunday.

A journalist in the crowd, Christopher Donville from Bloomberg, remarked that it is generally accepted that tailings are better off in a tailings pond, and yet billions of gallons of tailings have spilled into the local environment seemingly without any negative effects. He looked to Minister Oakes for comment, but his remark was met with a chorus of other voices.

“Isn’t that wonderful?” Skeed Borkowski, the owner of a local fly fishing lodge, sarcastically remarked.

“What about testing the water column?” another woman chimed in.

Local resident and former Mount Polley mine employee Doug Watt asked for more information on the suspended solids causing a murky cloud in Quesnel Lake near his home.

Minister Oakes defended the water study results to the crowd, saying the experts who provided the information are “independent” and “reviewed all the data at a professional standard.”

Oakes said the Cariboo Regional District will continue to provide drinking water to residents and will keep the temporary shower facilities in operation.

When asked if the test results will change their interaction with the water, couple Doug and Marlene Watt, were split.

Doug, a former metallurgist and shift supervisor at Mount Polley mine, said he will drink the water after it’s been filtered. His wife said she “isn’t ready yet” to drink the water.

“Again we apologize to folks who were looking for information and couldn’t find it,” Oakes said.

In the early evening representatives from the Ministry of Environment came by to drop off information packets to locals at their homes and businesses. Avtar Sundher, head of government and compliance with the environmental management section of the Ministry of Environment pointed out the regions still under a drinking water ban on a map.

“All these hash areas are still affected,” he said, pointing to Polley Lake and Hazeltine Creek.

A map provided by the Ministry of Environment shows the areas still under a water use ban, including the 100-metre area in yellow and red surrounding the debris field at the mouth of Hazeltine Creek.

The information package states “the tailings liquid released from the impoundment moved very quickly through the system and was diluted greatly by the water in the lake, the Quesnel River and ultimately the Fraser River.”

“Generally, bio-accumulation of contaminants in fish occurs over a longer exposure than a few days,” the bulletin stated.

“We understand what a spectacular area it is that we live in and we understand how important it is that people come and visit and that tourism operators have every opportunity to showcase the pristine beauty that we have. And that young families know that this is a great, safe place to come and raise your families,” Oakes said to the crowd.

“Now it’s our job to make sure we get the story out that the Cariboo, that Likely, is open for business.”

This article is published as a part of a joint-venture between the Vancouver Observer and DeSmog Canada.

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.

Residents in Likely, B.C. are concerned about drinking water affected by Mount Polley mining waste even after a water use ban was lifted for areas downstream of Quesnel Lake. The ban was put into effect on August 5, 2014, one day after the tailings pond at Mount Polley mine breached, sending billions of litres of mining waste into Hazeltine Creek, which feeds Quesnel Lake and Quesnel River.

The water advisory, released by the Cariboo Regional District, previously recommended not drinking water in the Quesnel Lake, Cariboo Creek, Hazeltine Creek and Polley Lake areas and extended down the entire Quesnel and Cariboo River systems to the Fraser River.

On Saturday the ban was lifted for areas south of 6236 Cedar Creek Road in Likely along the Quesnel River which flows north to Quesnel.

“They lifted the water ban, but I don’t know a lot of people who are going to drink that water,” Kyle Giesbrecht said. “I’m not drinking it.”

Giesbrecht, who works for PD Security, has been manning overnight shifts guarding the water supply provided to Likely residents by the Cariboo Regional District.

According to PD Security head of operations, Rick Honey, the water provided to Likely is guarded 24/7 and will be for an unspecified amount of time.

“The idea is that they don’t want anyone messing with the tanks,” Honey said.

“A lot of people are really upset about what’s going on. Most of them are retired,” Giesbrecht said.

“Most people moved out here for their little piece of heaven and now they’re worried that heaven will be gone. They’re worried about the water.”

Kyle Giesbrect says he won't drink the local water. Photo by Carol Linnitt.

“They’ve lifted the ban on the water here, for the river, because…it’s classified as drinkable. But they’re not sure how long it’s going to last or if it will last.”

Even thought they call it drinkable…I still don’t. I don’t trust it. Eventually those chemicals will come down,” he said. “It’s just a matter of time.”

“Unless they’re testing every single day, that’s what we don’t know.”

Residents are free to take as much water as they need and temporary showers have been installed for use by residents.

Gerald MacBurney, a former tailings foreman with Imperial Metals, the company operating the mine, said he isn’t as concerned with the water that escaped the tailings pond as he is with the sediment lining the pond’s floor.

“That’s where all the nasty stuff is,” he said. “I don’t know how many hundreds of tons of scrap went into the lake because it’s hidden, but it’s the whole hillside that is going to drain in there.’

Gerald MacBurney, a former tailings foreman for Imperial Metals at the Mount Polley mine, says there's more to be worried about than just the tailings water. Photo by Carol Linnitt.

“It’s going to let out the toxins,” he said. “It’s crazy.”

Paddy Smith, a fisheries biologist with Cariboo Envirotech, said contaminants like mercury can affect a waterbody in unpredictable ways for years.

Fish is still highly contaminated with mercury in Jack of Clubs lake where mercury pollution from a gold smelter near Wells, B.C. occurred over half-a-century ago.

“There’s mercury here,” he said of the recent tailings pond breach. “They’ve got to monitor the fish populations, and the bottom feeders because – where does it go? – it goes to the bottom.”

The Quesnel River in Likely, B.C. is a local source of drinking water. Photo by Carol Linnitt.

“But [the spill] will be old news by the time any of those things occur here,” he said. “Those long-term issues sort of get forgotten.”

Another local, Denise Carlson, said she’s grateful her property is on well water.

“I personally wouldn’t drink [local water] but Health Canada says it’s okay. I know there are people on [Quesnel] lake who say they’re not going to drink it. They [the CRD] is continuing to bring in water but those people out of the ban, they’re also not using it to my knowledge.”

“Nobody knows enough about what’s in that water.”

“Out of sight, out of mind,” Carlson said, echoing concerns the long-term impacts will be overlooked.

Wild fields near Denise Carlson's home in Likely, B.C. Photo by Carol Linnitt.

“And the thing is the government and the mine are going to work towards that mentality – to make everybody forget,” she said.

Other local business owners declined to comment on the issue. One individual who did not want to be named said having an opinion on the contentious issue could hurt sales.

This article is published as part of a joint-venture between DeSmog Canada and the Vancouver Observer.

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.

A health study released today by the Athabasca Chipewyan First Nation and the Mikisew Cree, in collaboration with researchers from the University of Manitoba, is the first of its kind to draw associations between environmental contaminants produced in the oilsands and declines in health in Fort Chipewyan, a native community about 300 kilometres north of Fort McMurray, Alberta.

The report, Environmental and Human Health Implications of Athabasca Oil Sands, finds health impacts for communities downstream of the Alberta oilsands are “positively associated” with industrial development and the consumption of traditional foods, including locally caught fish.

Dr. Stéphane McLachlan, lead environmental health researcher for the report, said the study’s results “as they relate to human health, are alarming and should function as a wakeup call to industry, government and communities alike.”

Findings include generally high concentrations of carcinogenic PAHs (polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons), and heavy metals arsenic, mercury, cadmium and selenium in kidney and liver samples from moose, ducks, muskrats and beavers harvested by community members. A press release for the study says bitumen extraction and upgrading is a major emitter of all of these contaminants.

The Joint Oil Sands Monitoring Program has released data about the increases in these contaminants, but fails to address and monitor impacts to First Nations traditional foods,” said Mikisew Cree Chief Steve Courtoreille. “We are greatly alarmed and demand further research and studies are done to expand on the findings of this report.”

The First Nations worked in concert with University of Manitoba scientists, blending “western science and traditional ecological knowledge” to evaluate contaminant levels and potential community exposure, according to the press release.

“This is the first health study that has been conducted in close collaboration with community members of Fort Chipewyan,” McLachlan said in a recent interview.

“The results are grounded in the environment and health sciences, but also in the local traditional knowledge shared by community members. Unlike any of the other studies it has been actively shaped and controlled by both the Athabasca Chipewyan First Nation and the Mikisew Cree First Nation from the outset.”

The report comes on the heels of the fifth annual ‘healing walk’ in the oilsands region, during which Chief Allan Adam of the Athabasca Chipewyan First Nation said the report would “blow the socks off industry and government.”

Concerns over high rates of rare forms of bile duct, cervical and lung cancers have worried residents of Fort Chipewyan, a small community 300 kilometres downstream of the oilsands, for years.

A government report in March 2014 found elevated rates of the three forms of cancer in Fort Chip, but suggested overall cancer rates fall on par with cancer rates elsewhere in the province. The report’s author, Dr. James Tablot, chief medical officer for Alberta health, said there was little evidence environmental factors played a role in the elevated cancer rates.

The report was treated as largely inconclusive and confirmed the need for further, independent study.

An editorial in the Calgary Herald argued the report confirmed the need to “settle the matter once and for all” and called for an independent study.

“Only then will the nagging fear — whether founded or unfounded — that the Alberta government is too closely linked with the oilsands to provide objective data and conclusions, be put to rest.”

The community of Fort Chip has struggled for years to have a comprehensive, baseline health study conducted.

In March, Chief Adam suggested it was “time for a real study, that is peer reviewed and done in partnership with our communities.” He suggested the government report was conducted to “ease the public response to this and garner more support for approvals of more projects in the region.”

Today researchers and community leaders called for further investigation of contaminant concentrations, as well as community-based monitoring and improved risk communications from government and industry.

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.