WHITEHORSE, Yukon — Roughly 10 miners from Saskatchewan arrived in Dawson City, Yukon, last weekend and two members of the group ignored self-isolation rules and entered a store, according to the chairperson of the community’s emergency measures organization.

Yukon requires all people arriving to the territory to self-isolate immediately for 14 days.

Mike Masserey told The Narwhal members of the group were heading to a mine site in the area, where they intended to self-isolate.

He said stores have notices informing people not to enter prior to self-isolating. Despite this, two members of the group entered a general store to stock up on supplies, Masserey said.

“I think they should get fined,” he said, adding that they drove into Whitehorse on April 3 and were in Dawson the next day.

“If they contracted the virus anywhere along the line … we don’t know. They don’t know either, but they know what the rules are, and yet they don’t see a problem with coming in and shopping at our stores.”

Masserey said if staff who run the two stores that sell food get sick, the community is in trouble. “Dawson is dead. We have no supply of food.”

Placer mining is common in the Dawson City area. Miners scoop up rocks and gravel from riverbeds, sort through them for gold and then dump the waste rock in a process that can severely damage streams.

In a territory that has a gold panner on its licence plates, placer mining is seen as a low-cost way for small-scale operators to get into the mining business without having to front the costs associated with starting a larger mine.

Masserey has seen other miners pass through the community as well. He said roughly a week and a half  ago, two miners flew in from Europe and stopped in town for groceries. Another one drove up from Florida about three weeks ago. Masserey said he instructed him to stay away from Dawson City and the miner said he planned to live out of his truck.

Mining in Yukon has been deemed an essential service, but there are still guidelines for the industry to follow. Last week, emergency measures were introduced that made self-isolation upon entering the territory law. Failing to do so can result in jail time of up to six months, fines or both.

A spokesperson with the RCMP said roughly eight people travelled to Yukon from Lloydminster, Sask., in a convoy, noting no charges are being laid. The group is self-isolating outside of the town’s limits.

“Two females in the group were responsible for getting groceries for the group and stated that they had self-isolated prior to the drive,” said Alma Edwards, acting director of strategic communications for Yukon RCMP. “There was a misunderstanding that they had to self-isolate once entering a new province or territory.”

“Neither of the females were exhibiting signs, symptoms of illness and were provided education by the responding police officer.”

As of April 8, there have been no charges under the Civil Emergency Measures Act, according to a spokesperson with the Department of Community Services.

“Our goal is not to charge people but to educate the public and have voluntary compliance,” Breagha Fraser said in a written statement to The Narwhal.

‘It’s just being negligent’: Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in chief

Roberta Joseph, chief of the Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in First Nation in Dawson City, raised concerns that placer miners entering the area are not taking self-isolation seriously, potentially jeopardizing the health of people there and in Yukon at large.

Miners flying from the south could spread COVID-19 to Dawson City residents, Joseph told The Narwhal, adding that spring breakup is when some come back to the region from out of the territory.

“It’s just being negligent towards and [showing] a lack of respect towards the people in our community who live here year-round,” she said.

Brooke Rudolph, executive director of the Klondike Placer Miners’ Association, said placer miners from 15 businesses are currently self-isolating, but she didn’t know exactly how many people. She said those who are self-isolating or have self-isolated had returned to Yukon in about the past two weeks.

The association’s members are primarily Yukoners. Membership hovers around 200, which includes businesses and individuals. Not all members are miners.

Some placer miners choose to live and work in Yukon during the summer months, Rudolph said.

“Really, they just came home,” she said.

The placer miners’ association rolled out measures of its own. It introduced a tracking system, for instance, that allows it to keep tabs on who’s self-isolating and where they visited and when, Rudolph said. After self-isolation, miners’ whereabouts are also documented. It’s voluntary for miners to share their information.

“We believe that placer mining can safely and responsibly occur and also provide economic benefit, not just to the Yukon but also small communities, which will really make a positive impact in light of a total decline in tourism,” Rudolph said.

She didn’t know how many placer miners have returned to Yukon recently, adding that most came back to Yukon before COVID-19 hit the territory. The territory’s first case was confirmed on March 22.

Gold seekers are flooding into the Yukon and wreaking havoc on its rivers

Enforcement officers now monitoring entries to Yukon

Travellers are now required to fill out a travel declaration, notify officials of self-isolation plans and provide contact information at the border and airport.

Earlier this week, John Streicker, minister of community services, said there are now enforcement officers posted at entries 24/7, including at the Whitehorse International Airport to meet incoming flights.

“With our outreach, notifications and the border measures in place, we are managing the situation as thoroughly as we can,” Jesse Devost, a spokesperson with the Department of Energy, Mines and Resources, said in a written statement to The Narwhal. “All miners should have been aware for several days now when encountering the checkpoint in Watson Lake or the Whitehorse airport of the need to self-isolate.”

Devost said the department doesn’t know how many placer miners have arrived, noting that they aren’t required to check in with mining recorders — officials in field offices who register claims, process permits and collect fees.

“The claim owners do need to visit the mining recorder usually later in the year to report the work they did to their claims, and we will continue to conduct that business with them, under our COVID-responsive office practises,” he said.

A 2002 study found that as many as five per cent of Yukon streams have been affected by placer mining, which “has resulted in extensive changes to stream channel morphology and stability.”

Dawson City Mayor Wayne Potoroka said it’s not only placer miners — everyone needs to follow the rules.

He said some people have been “late to the party,” noting there were groups of people congregating downtown recently, including locals.

Potoroka said the municipality has made it easy for people to self-isolate by working with several hotels that offered to cut their nightly rates in half.

There have been some changes, he said, since enforcement officers have been stationed at checkpoints.

“If you’re coming up the road now, there’s a stop,” he said. “You’re gonna get the hard talk.”

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In Dawson City, Yukon, you can get a Chinese buffet at Gold Village before picking up a few essentials at the Bonanza Market. A block away, across from the river, you can get some Yukon gold from the Klondike Nugget & Ivory Shop.

Despite the hand-painted signs and old-timey decor, the turn-of-the-century gold rush isn’t just a memory here. Two reality TV shows, Gold Rush and Yukon Gold, chronicle the ongoing search for gold in the region, while unprecedented numbers of mines are digging up riverbeds and wetlands.

The gold rush, it seems, is in full swing: the Yukon Geological Survey pegged total placer mining production at $94 million in 2017, an amount comparable to the peak production during the Klondike.

The name Klondike itself derives from a mispronunciation of the word Tr’ondëk, which loosely translated refers to a part of the river.

And when it comes to the Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in First Nation — from whose territory this bonanza is being extracted — one might assume a major windfall.

Yet that’s far from reality.

According to the First Nation, their share of the gold mining royalties last year was around $65 — not quite enough to buy a tank of gas at the station next to the Bonanza Gold Motel.

“The amount is still in 1906 legislation,” explains Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in chief Roberta Joseph. “It’s still back in the Wild West.”

Indeed, the royalty system laid out in the Yukon Placer Mining Act seems so outdated as to be almost comical:

“There shall be levied and collected on all gold shipped from the Yukon a royalty at the rate of two-and-one-half per cent of its value,” it reads.

“Gold for the purpose of estimating that royalty shall be valued at fifteen dollars per ounce.”

Fifteen.

Dollars.

Per.

Ounce.

That’s like estimating the value of a television at $5.

At the time of writing, the spot price of gold was $1,566 per ounce, 100 times higher than it was a hundred years ago when the legislation was written.

“It’s a joke,” says Lewis Rifkind, Mining Analyst at the Yukon Conservation Society. “The Yukon gets more in campground fees than in placer mine royalties.”

Incredibly, Rifkind is downplaying the discrepancy.

Yukon statistics show the government brought in $26,715 in placer mining royalties in 2017.

Camping fees from non-residents alone amounted to $348,000 — more than ten times as much.

“In the Yukon we’ve been mining gold for over 100 years and we are still dirt poor,” he says. “We have all this wealth, and year after year we give it all away.”

The “royalty” isn’t even really a royalty in the conventional understanding, as in, a levy collected on a resource.

As the Act states, the Yukon’s royalty is only collected on gold dust or bars shipped from the territory — which, when it was written, was probably most or all of it. Today, with jewellers right in Dawson City making and selling products for the ever-growing throngs of tourists, not so much.

Each ounce of gold dust or bars being exported from the Yukon nets the government (and, eventually, Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in First Nation) 37.5 cents. If it’s sold to gold buyers in Dawson, the First Nation gets nothing.

River rocks are piled high after being sorted and dumped during placer mining operations. Photo: Jimmy Thomson / The Narwhal

Old rusting machinery crowds the road heading into Dawson — but deeper into Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in territory a new gold rush is growing. Photo: Jimmy Thomson / The Narwhal

‘Ignorance, greed and envy’

The Alberta royalty rate is 200 times higher than that in Yukon; B.C.’s is 20 times higher.

A report from the Financial Advisory Panel in 2017 pointed out that the 37.5 cents per ounce the government gets from placer mining doesn’t even manage to recover the costs of supporting the placer mining industry.

It recommended that the government review its royalty rates and maybe institute a system like that in Alaska. There, less successful miners pay no royalties and others pay a royalty that reflects modern prices.

The Klondike Placer Miners’ Association retorted with a fiery open letter from its president, Mike McDougall —  which was sent to The Narwhal in response to an interview request — blaming “ignorance, greed, and envy” for the public desire to up the royalty rate.

The association received $120,000 in transfers from the Yukon Government in 2017-18, according to the advisory panel report.

Premier Sandy Silver, who has lived in Dawson City for nearly 20 years, ran in the Klondike riding on a promise not to raise the royalties — and steadfastly stuck to it.

“The placer miners are a pretty powerful lobby,” according to Rifkind.

But it’s more than that, he says. There’s a happy old-timey gold panner on Yukon licence plates. People like to refer to placer mining as “the Yukon equivalent of the family farm.”

Placer mining is ingrained in the territory’s culture and collective psyche, and it’s a way for small-scale operators to get into mining without facing the extreme costs associated with starting a larger mine.

“Sometimes we in the environmental movement tend to overlook that,” he admits.

Growing disturbance

That $65 the Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in received last year came with real costs to the environment.

“You basically have to destroy the stream that the gold is in,” Rifkind says.

The rounded riverbed stones piled high into miniature mountains along the Klondike Highway tell the story of how that damage comes to be: placer miners scoop up the rocks and gravel from current and historical riverbeds, sort through them for gold, and dump the waste rock, or tailings, as they move along.

“Such mining can gut invaluable riparian areas and can severely and permanently damage streams, devastate fish, and threaten human health,” wrote the University of Victoria Environmental Law Centre in a letter to the B.C. Auditor General last year.

“It can interfere with traditional hunting, fishing and gathering practices and infringe Indigenous rights.”

A 2002 study found that as many as five per cent of Yukon streams have been affected by placer mining, which “has resulted in extensive changes to stream channel morphology and stability.” Digging up the river kicks up silt, choking and smothering downstream plants, insects and fish. Fish have trouble moving, feeding, reproducing and growing in water with even low amounts of sediments hanging in the water.

“There are some creeks that have been disturbed to the point where there’s not an ability to use it for drinking, or spawning for fish,” Joseph says.

The so-called “Yukon equivalent of the family farm” often takes the form of large-scale, irreversible disturbance to the landscape. Photo: Sebastian Jones / Yukon Conservation Society

Placer mining also disturbs the habitat of the riverbanks, the fragile and extremely productive riparian areas that the Environmental Law Centre says house two-thirds of Canada’s rare and endangered species.

And they don’t just come back. The same 2002 study found that vegetation had a hard time growing once placer mining had moved through because of the lack of fine sediments.

Any return to normalcy, it found, “could take many decades to centuries.”

The growth in the industry in recent years — driven in part by high gold prices as well as the notoriety from the reality TV shows — is unprecedented. The Yukon Geological Survey counted 25,219 placer claims in good standing in the territory, “which is the highest number of claims dating back to 1973 when our records were initiated.”

Rifkind says the government has been doing a good job of keeping on top of the growth in mining, enforcing its existing laws. But those laws, he says, don’t go far enough to mitigate the damage inherent to the industry.

“The actual placer mining activities recently have been quite well enforced and monitored, but it doesn’t get away from the fact that it’s still placer mining.”

According to the Klondike Placer Miners’ Association, there were 159 active placer mines in the Yukon as of last year. Joseph estimates that 85 to 90 per cent of them are in Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in territory.

“They think this is place they can come and get rich,” she says.

‘Mined areas are even more unique’

A sign overlooking the Klondike River describes the rapid change that took place in the Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in traditional territory when the gold rush began:

“Within two years, Tr’ochëk had changed beyond recognition. Gone were the fish racks, salmon traps and cooking hearths. Now there was a dense clutter of tents and cabins, a sawmill, a brewery, saloons, stores and the one-room cribs of prostitutes.”

Today the renewed frenzy is once again making its mark on the landscape. In the Indian River wetlands south of Dawson City — where half the territory’s placer gold comes from — the Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in say their territory is becoming unrecognizable.

“Peat and fen wetlands that took thousands of years to develop are now at risk of being wiped out in only a few years,” the First Nation wrote in a letter to Carolyn Bennett, Minister of Crown-Indigenous Relations.

They are asking for a study of the cumulative impacts of placer mining before another project is approved.

“The river and its tributaries were heavily staked by placer miners in the 1980s and 1990s; today, licensed operators in the valley are among the top producers of placer gold in the Yukon.”

The letter stresses that cumulative impacts haven’t been taken into account by individual licence application processes, and now, an as-yet unmined part of the wetland is being considered for mining.

Individual developments, taken together, have been transforming the Indian River wetlands for decades.

As they are, the wetlands produce clean water, habitat for game animals, endangered species and other wildlife, flood control, sinks for pollution, as well as cultural values like hunting, fishing, trapping and tourism. It’s the only major wetland area in Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in territory.

“We consider that the overarching benefits of intact wetlands…to the many within the Dawson community, including First Nations citizens, outweigh the financial gain to the few private industry operations mining gold from wetlands,“ reads a letter to the Yukon Water Board asking for a public hearing to discuss the current mine proposal.

According to the First Nation, the Indian River itself used to be salmon habitat. Salmon no longer spawn there.

Reclamation of wetlands is unproven and expensive, and in its submission to the water board, an engineering firm hired by the proponent said as much.

“The expectations…have to be tempered with what is physically achievable and what is economically feasible for family-based Yukon placer mining operations,” the firm wrote, referring to oilsands mining projects, where attempts at rebuilding bogs and fens has yielded mixed results. “It would be incredibly expensive, frustrating and imprudent to attempt to reclaim post mined sites to peat land wetlands given the high likelihood of failure.”

Security is rarely collected against the costs of cleanup in case a company is not able or willing to complete the remediation — but Rifkind says remediation in many cases would be an extreme undertaking regardless given the way placer mining turns ecosystems quite literally upside down.

“It’s almost impossible to do effective reclamation,” he says.

Stuart Schmidt, a local supporter of the placer mining industry who describes growing up hunting and trapping in the Indian Creek area, wrote a letter in support of the project for the water board.

“I understand the concern expressed by many people who feel that there is enough mining in the Indian River Valley and that it should come to a stop,” Schmidt wrote. “They argue that the Indian River is unique. That is true, all areas are unique but the mined areas are even more unique.”

Lawsuit could be considered

The Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in say they are in the midst of negotiating with the Yukon Government to update the Placer Mining Act.

Legislative reviews that were promised as part of devolution, which concluded in 2003, have not resulted so far in any update to the Placer Mining Act or the royalties associated with it.

When the government declined to update the royalties, it instead updated the way it splits royalties with the First Nations. That brought the total amount of royalties, to be divided among 11 Yukon First Nations, to $36,110.71. To sweeten the deal, the government kicked in a one-time “gesture” payment of $600,000, also to be split between all 11 First Nations.

After years of sitting alone at the bargaining table, and without any progress on an actual increase in the returns on placer mining and an evaluation of its cumulative impacts on the land, Joseph says the First Nation may consider legal action.

“The Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in have given up millions and millions of ounces of gold,” Joseph says. “When we have an agreement we all have to be acting in good faith to ensure that we all benefit in good faith.”

Correction: An earlier version of this story suggested that legal action is being considered by the Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in First Nation. The First Nation has clarified that it is not currently considering a lawsuit but that it may consider such action if the Yukon government does not pursue further changes to the Placer Mining Act.

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Placer mining kills fish, damages streams, poses a risk to drinking water and jeopardizes Indigenous rights, but the activity is virtually unregulated and brings little money into government coffers, says a report urging B.C. Auditor General Carol Bellringer to conduct an audit of the province’s failure to adequately regulate placer operations.

“Placer mining — the practice of mining for gold in and near streams and riverbeds — is expanding across B.C.,” the report states. “The province allows prospectors to stake claims in private property, salmon watersheds and Indigenous lands, leaving local communities to cope with potential mercury contamination and other hazards.”

The report, written by the University of Victoria’s Environmental Law Centre on behalf of the Fair Mining Collaborative, concludes that B.C.’s current regulations cannot prevent or mitigate harm caused by unregulated miners.

“Placer mining offers little in economic return to offset the environmental damage,” the report says.

A spokeswoman for Bellringer’s office said the request will be considered along with numerous other audit suggestions, and added that, if accepted, audits can often take more than a year from the day they are started.

“We aim to make the best use of our resources and choose audits with the greatest value to government and the people of B.C.,” Colleen Rose wrote in an e-mailed response to questions from DeSmog Canada.

The report’s authors, Calvin Sandborn, Environmental Law Centre legal director, articled student Renata Colwell and law student Erin Linklater, believe the problems with placer mining are causing health and environmental problems and are hoping for quick action.

“We are saying it’s urgent,” Sandborn said.

“This is an expanding industry. The large machine operations have almost tripled since 2005 and so it can’t be ignored any longer. We have to figure out how we can regulate this. There are a lot of jurisdictions we can learn from — starting with the Yukon.”

While the Yukon has rigorous rules, in B.C., hand-panning or using hand tools with a sluicer or shaker box — an activity that has more than doubled since 2005 — has little government oversight or tracking.

Miners do not have to obtain Water Sustainability Act authorization to excavate waterways. Adequate setbacks from stream banks are not enforced and some placer mines discharge tailings directly into streams instead of settling ponds.

Miners that use machinery for the excavation have little more regulation, apart from a requirement to apply for a Notice of Work permit.

An environmental assessment is triggered only if they have production capacity of more than 500,000 tonnes a year — a threshold so high that it excludes almost every placer mine in the province.

The Fair Mining Collaborative could not find a single record of a B.C. placer mine undergoing a federal or provincial environmental assessment since the mid-1990s although at least 50 environmental assessments a year are triggered in the Yukon.

“…it’s urgent.” https://t.co/avr4aueDXO

— DeSmog Canada (@DeSmogCanada) April 17, 2018

Tara Lamothe-Ammerlaan, Fair Mining Collaborative program manager, said about 550 open permits have been issued for placer mines in B.C. annually for the last three years and, while not all are active, they all have permission to mine.

“For the most part, they operate in or near riparian areas, which are arguably the most valuable ecosystems in a landscape. We need to have some kind of regional environmental assessments that set parametres around how much mining activity is compatible with First Nations plans for their territory and with healthy and resilient ecosystems,” she said.

Lamothe-Ammerlaan said another major problem is the free entry system that allows anyone to stake a claim for a minimal fee and miners then have rights — even if it is private property, an important ecosystem, an area important to First Nations or if land-use plans conflict with the mining plans.

Last year, Bev Sellars, chair of First Nations Women Advocating Responsible Mining, illustrated how easy it is to stake a claim by staking the Cranbrook property of then-energy and mines minister Bill Bennett.

The report says regulation of placer mining is rooted in hopelessly outdated 19th century gold rush laws and some damage is historical, such as the 58-million cubic metres of sediment added to the Fraser River between 1858 and 1909, but modern mining is now stirring up sediment and dangerous substances such as mercury.

Other major problems started more recently, such as the deregulation of creeks around the Atlin area in 1985, allowing direct discharge into streams, after placer miners successfully lobbied their MLA.

The lack of regulation has resulted in sky high levels of aluminum which jeopardises the health of Taku River Tlingit First Nation members and other Atlin residents who use Atlin lake as a drinking water source.

“It’s an environmental law-free zone,” Sandborn said.

“Someone should let the fish know.”

Placer mining can kill fish by introducing sediments and metals into the water and improper excavation destroys spawning grounds, says the report, which uses numerous studies to support its claims.

A 1992 study found that unmined streams “support a standing stock of fish 40 times that of placer-mined streams.”

While the environmental damage mounts, B.C. sees little economic return with the province collecting only $253,248 between 2008 and 2015 on more than $50 million in reported gold sales.

“Since operators are taxed per mine, individual operators may pay no tax, even if they are producing more than $50,000 of gold a year across multiple mines,” the report says.

Lamoth-Ammerlaan believes the report has built a strong case for an audit by documenting the lack of regulation and the high environmental stakes.

“The government collects very low royalties on the gold that placer mines extract from our rivers and streams,” she said.

“I think this industry, with its significant potential for environmental harm and recorded gold sales tanging between $2 million and $15 million per year over the past decade, is perfect for this kind of scrutiny.”

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