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There are only a handful of ways to get into the roadless wilderness of the upper Taku River. 

You can take an onerous 100-kilometre jetboat ride up the river from Juneau, Alaska’s capital city, or you can come in from the air, either by helicopter charter or by bush plane, which will land you in a lake where you can join the flow downstream.  

The wildness and vulnerability of the Taku are what have drawn me and my good friend Alex Craven to undertake a 130-kilometre pack-raft trip from a headwater lake nearly to its confluence with the Pacific.

Alex Craven surveying the abandoned Tulsequah Chief mine site after a 15-kilometre hike up the river bed. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

Besides a few short 4×4 trails, the entire Taku watershed remains without access roads and is considered to be the largest intact wilderness river system on the Pacific Coast of North America, despite past mineral development in the valley.

As an avid fly fishermen and back-country traveller in Alaska, I’ve wanted to visit the Taku for years because of its jaw-dropping beauty and relative isolation. Despite abundant wildlife including grizzlies, caribou, wolves, moose and all five species of salmon, the remote region sees few visitors.

But there’s another reason for my interest in the Taku. 

As a photographer and journalist, I’m also here to document the abandoned Tulsequah Chief mine which, since the 1950s, has leaked acid mine drainage into a tributary of the Taku, the prevailing salmon-producing river for southeast Alaska.

Despite mounting public pressure, the Canadian and British Columbian governments have failed to clean up the mess for more than 60 years. 

The Tulsequah Chief mine is frequently referenced by downstream Alaskan stakeholders, tribes and fishermen as evidence B.C. cannot responsibly regulate the mining boom taking place near transboundary rivers that flow between Canada and the U.S. 

Arriving at the floatplane, Alex, a skilled paddler and staffer with the Sierra Club based out of Seattle, hops in the front seat.

Alex Craven gazes out across millions of hectares of roadless, unfragmented wild country. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

Moving inland from the wet coastal range of Alaska, the Taku Valley forests transition from temperate rainforest to boreal forest in the drier interior of British Columbia. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

Juneau slips out of view as we bank away from the Pacific and into the mouth of the mighty Taku River.

The fishing boats scattered across the confluence below us — where millions of salmon are beginning their arduous journey home to headwaters — disappear from view as we move toward the wide-open valley ahead. Tall peaks tower on either side, as the vast 1.8 million-hectare Taku watershed opens up in front of us. This will be our home for the next seven days.

We float the Inklin River to its confluence with the Nakina where the Taku River begins on the map. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

The location of the abandoned Tulsequah Chief mine in relation to the vast 1.8 million-hectare Taku River watershed. Map: Carol Linnitt / The Narwhal

Our travel route included an eight-kilometre hike from King Salmon Lake to the Inklin River. Once on the river, we paddled downstream to join the Taku River and eventually took a detour north to the Tulsequah River where we located the abandoned mine site. Map: Carol Linnitt / The Narwhal

After an hour-long bush flight, the plane circles and lands on a large mountain lake. 

We grab our packs and begin the eight-kilometre hike down to the Inklin River, a tributary of the Taku. 

Alex Craven shuttling a heavy pack loaded with pack rafts, life jackets, cameras, bear spray, camping gear and a week’s worth of food from our float plane on King Salmon Lake. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

Hiking down to the river requires fighting chest-high thickets of devil’s club and swarms of mosquitoes. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

We are grateful to find an old trail that runs along a trapline but in places it has been completely reclaimed by the forest and soon we are bushwhacking. Blindly pushing through the thick undergrowth, we know we could easily bump into a bear or moose. 

The mosquitoes swarm.

Thick devil’s club, a fierce spiny plant, makes for slow progress. It’s four hours until we hear the sound of the Inklin.

Finally at the river’s edge, we inflate pack rafts, load our gear and begin the seven-day float.

Alex paddles his inflatable pack raft down the Inklin River. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

Though the wilderness is rugged, the weather is fair and calm. We make our way through the rapids of the Inklin Canyon and into the swift but gentle current that will be the norm for the rest of the paddle. 

The Taku River runs near the 58th parallel. As our float coincides with the summer solstice, the sun barely sets at midnight during a short interval of bright evening twilight. 

Our first night we camp next to a clear stream and catch a nice Dolly Varden, a species of char that splits its time between the ocean and pristine rivers like the Taku.

Dolly Varden are an anadromous species of trout that gather in large numbers in the Taku River to feed on the salmon spawn. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

Tiger swallowtail gathering is a sign of the return of chinook salmon, called king salmon in Alaska. While the Taku River has historically been known for bountiful returns of kings, numbers have been declining in recent years resulting in closures to the fishery. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

We’re travelling through a part of the four million hectare (10-million acre) traditional territory of the Taku River Tlingit First Nation. 

Less than 200 years ago the river was flanked by permanent village sites and seasonal subsistence camps. To this day the Taku River Tlingit people rely on the river and watershed for moose, deer, caribou and prized chinook salmon. 

Several decades ago, the First Nation successfully fought the proposed development of a 159-kilometre access road that would have crossed the heart of the watershed, opening it up for mineral exploration.

In 2011, the nation and provincial government agreed to protect a large part of the watershed from development and to jointly manage aspects of the region. 

But that agreement has done little to remedy the decades-old problem of the Tulsequah Chief mine, situated on the Tulsequah River, a major tributary of the Taku.

A view of the midnight sunset from our camp on the Taku River. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

Alex cooks a fish dinner over the campfire. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

Paddling up to the staging area for the Tulsequah Chief mine. From here we hike 15 kilometres up a dirt road along the bank of the Tulsequah River to the abandoned mine site. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

A small rotting dock is the first sign we see of the abandoned Tulsequah Chief mine. We pull our rafts up and step on the bank. This is the spot where barges would land after a long, perilous run up the swift, shallow Taku River. From here trucks would transport equipment up the 15-kilometre provisional road to the mine. 

Discarded trucks and boats, bunk houses and storage containers are scattered around the yard, left to rust amongst the trees. 

In Canada it is not uncommon for mining companies to walk away from cleanup obligations. According to a July report from Canada’s Ecofiscal Commission, “as many as 10,000 orphaned and abandoned mine sites exist across the country.” The report notes that, “B.C.’s policies have contributed to a situation where, according to the most recent figures, the province holds only $1.36 billion in financial assurance against an estimated $2.8 billion total cleanup liability.”

Skiffs and barges were used to run workers and materials upriver to this staging area, from which trucks could drive the access road to the Tulsequah Chief mine. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

After five days on the river, the sight of rusting and discarded 50-gallon drums of chemicals feels strikingly out of place. Their mere existence here — 100 kilometres into the backcountry, in a vast roadless landscape — feels implausible. 

As we walk around, we see the remnants of several stages of ownership and haphazard operation of the site. Since Teck-Cominco abandoned the site in 1957, two companies — Redfern Resources and Chieftain Metals — have obtained exploration permits by promising to clean up the acid mine drainage. 

Both failed in their cleanup efforts and collapsed under debt.

We wondered whether the skull and crossbones on the outside was meant as humour or a legitimate health warning. Standing near the door, I was quickly struck with a headache. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

An abandoned silo at the staging area is filled with trash, chemical waste and discarded equipment. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

Road building is a topic of intense debate in southeast Alaska where there are no major road systems connecting the region’s communities. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

A bunkhouse, still appearing new, looked as though it had been abandoned in a hurry, soon after construction. Shoes, telephones and other supplies lay in piles on the floor. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

An abandoned room in the bunkhouse. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

From the staging area we spent a day hiking up the access road and then the riverbed to the site of the Tulsequah Chief mine. 

Situated directly on the bank of the river, the site was startling and apocalyptic. 

Several new buildings, numerous storage containers and treatment ponds were scattered along the riverside. Rising steeply up from the river was a hillside that had been torn up by mining work.

The Tulsequah Chief mine site situated just metres from the river. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

There were several pallets of ferric chloride, used in water treatment. Crisscrossing a dried up tailings pond, black bear tracks were perfectly preserved in the orange mud. The door of a storage container was cracked open, a pile of ominous-looking soak rags in a heap.

A large shed was filled with what appeared to be materials for an elaborate water treatment system. The water treatment system looked as if it was in very new condition and perhaps never operated before abandonment.

Numerous containers are filled with chemicals and equipment from attempted cleanup of the mine site. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

A barrel of ferric chloride. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

The hill above the river has been excavated extensively and the open earth is stained with the signature rust colour of acid mine drainage. Few plants grow among the orange rocks and many trees appear dead or dying. Several creeks run down through the old mine waste into a pond coated in a thick orange slime.

Previous owners of the site were required to construct new wastewater treatment systems but it’s clear standing near the river’s edge how thoroughly those attempts have failed. A wastewater pond, separated from the river by just 10 metres of gravel bank, has breached and eroded. A small stream of contaminated water flows directly into the Tulsequah. 

The overflowing containment pond. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

The wall separating the pond from the Tulsequah River has eroded and wastewater now drains directly into the river. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

Over the last decade Canadian officials have at times alleged that “there there isn’t significant environmental harm being done” to the watershed by the water leaking out of Tulsequah Chief. However, this summer the commissioners of several Alaskan agencies wrote that “there are measurable impacts to Tulsequah River water quality and fish habitats next to the mine site and a mile and a half downstream in the Canadian portion of the river.” They noted that these impacts have not yet been detected on the Alaska side of the Taku.

The Canada-U.S. border is marked by a clearcut strip, which cuts across the Taku valley about 20 kilometres from the mine site. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

Pressure on B.C. increased in June with a letter from eight senators to Premier John Horgan, urging him to address the threats to transboundary rivers from mining.

“As you know, Alaska, Washington, Idaho and Montana have tremendous natural resources that need to be protected against impacts from B.C. hard rock and coal-mining activities near the headwaters of shared rivers, many of which support environmentally and economically significant salmon populations,” the senators wrote to Horgan. 

“These transboundary watersheds support critical water supply, recreation opportunities and wildlife habitat that support many livelihoods in local communities.”

There are numerous mines at various stages of their lifecycle from proposed to active to abandoned in the B.C.-Alaska transboundary region. Mapped above are 19 of those mines spanning four major river watersheds, including the Taku, the Stikine, the Nass and the Unuk, all of which support major salmon populations. Map: Carol Linnitt / The Narwhal

The letter followed a report from the University of Victoria’s Environmental Law Centre that found 1,100 closed mines across B.C. that continue to represent environmental threats.

The report found that some mines subject to acid mine drainage can never be fully cleaned up and may be subject to expensive water treatment in perpetuity. The Britannia mine, for example, required a $46 million treatment system for acid drainage that requires $3 million each year to operate — all funded by taxpayers.

A coalition of 30 groups in B.C. this summer called on the province to overhaul out-dated mining laws to alleviate risks to the public and the environment.

Alex’s souvenir from the trip was a beautiful moose shed. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

Desire for a solution to the Tulsequah Chief mine is at an all-time high with multiple new mine projects in various stages of proposal or development along the B.C.-Alaska border. 

But there’s also cautious optimism for the Tulsequah River now that B.C. has finally selected a contractor to develop a cleanup plan. However, the contractor — embattled SNC Lavalin — is steeped in controversy and an unfolding ethics scandal that could once again derail cleanup of the site. 

A final remediation plan is not expected until the end of 2019.

The Tulsequah Chief gives some indication of how costly and challenging a long-term containment and treatment solution is, even for a small amount of waste water. 

New mines in the transboundary watershed are being built at a scale far greater than the Tulsequah Chief. 

Several years ago I flew over the Red Chris mine, owned and operated by Imperial Metals, a company facing the threat of bankruptcy. I was awestruck by the scale of the mine and tailings pond after only two years of production. Red Chris is perched on a mountain top above the Stikine River watershed, another salmon-rich transboundary system shared by B.C. and Alaska.

Imperial Metals’ Red Chris mine in the headwaters of the Stikine River. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

Imperial Metals is also the company that owned and operated the Mount Polley mine, the site of one of Canada’s largest environmental disasters after a tailings pond collapsed, sending 24 million cubic metres of contaminated water into Quesnel Lake. 

Imperial Metals’ full reclamation costs are estimated at $173.6 million, with only $14.3 million held in reclamation deposits. 

The Taku Glacier near the confluence with the Pacific Ocean where we caught a flight back to Juneau from a lodge. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

As we paddle out past the melting Taku glacier and to the confluence where salt and freshwater meet, I try and wrap my head around the timescale of water, rock and ice. 

A salmon jumps and makes a daring dash across the water’s surface. A moment later a seal head pops up just five metres from our boat, a sockeye dangling from its mouth. It is the magic of moments like this that have led me to fall in love with southeast Alaska. 

These are also the moments that highlight what is at stake as B.C. considers new and larger mines in these remote, shared regions.

*Article updated on Oct. 11, 2019, at 2:45 p.m. to reflect the fact that both Chieftain and Redfern went bankrupt and to correct a previous reference to strip-mining on a hillside. The mining was actually underground mining, not strip mining.

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A leading credit rating agency’s financial downgrading of Imperial Metals Corp. is sending alarm signals through B.C. and Alaska groups concerned about the future of mines operated by the company.

Moody’s Investor Service has reassessed Imperial Metals’ “probability of default rating,” with financial analysts stating the company is at imminent risk of not being able to pay its debts. The company’s rating is “judged to be speculative, of poor standing, subject to very high default risk and may be in default on some, but not all, of their long-term debt obligations,” according to the service.

Imperial Metals, based in Vancouver, owns the Mount Polley Mine near Williams Lake — the site of the 2014 tailings pond collapse — and the Red Chris Mine, a large open-pit mine near the border of Alaska which uses the same tailings pond infrastructure as Mount Polley.

Operations at a third site owned by Imperial — the Huckleberry Mine, near Houston B.C. — have been on hold since last year because of low copper prices, according to the company website.

The company has seen its stock price plummet over the last year and recently completed a new debt financing plan after lenders granted a waiver to avoid default, according to Bloomberg News. The major shareholder is oilsands tycoon and Calgary Flames co-owner Murray Edwards, who previously helped arrange $150-million in loans for the company.

When asked about its financial situation, a company representative referred DeSmog Canada to an Imperial Metals annual report.

Communities and Taxpayers Left Holding the Bag for Bankrupt Mines

Alaskan and director of Salmon Beyond Borders said Imperial Metals’ shaky finances underline the need for binding protections for everyone living downstream from mines in transboundary watersheds.

“We know (B.C.) needs much greater financial-bonding legislation, so to find out that this company is in a dire financial position is just super troubling. We know there is no money available to reclaim the Red Chris Mine, so if the company goes bankrupt, it would be very, very troubling,” Hardcastle said in an interview.

“We need a robust financial assurances mechanism in these shared watersheds.”

ICYMI: In Photos: The Canadian Mining Boom You’ve Never Seen Before

The 2015 annual report of B.C.’s Chief Inspector of Mines (the most recent year available) shows that, like other mining companies in B.C., Imperial Metal bonds do not cover estimated liabilities.

The total bond for Mount Polley was $23.6 million, but the liability estimate is $35.3 million, for a shortfall of $11.7 million.

And that liability estimate should probably be much higher, said Ugo Lapointe, Canadian coordinator of MiningWatch Canada.

The Huckleberry bond was $37 million and the liability estimate $59 million, for a shortfall of $22 million. Red Chris posted a bond of $12 million with a liability estimate of $18 million, meaning a shortfall of at least $6 million.

So Imperial Metals has $73 million in bonding for a total reclamation estimate of at least $103 million, Lapointe said.

B.C.’s Underfunded Mines Represents Over $1 Billion Taxpayer Liability

Last year, B.C.’s Auditor General Carol Bellringer, who, in a report, slammed the B.C. government for failing to adequately monitor mines, said the fund that is supposed to cover reclamation costs is short more than $1 billion.

Another 2016 report by independent economist Robyn Allan found B.C.’s out-of-date mining regulations allow companies to chronically underfund mine remediation and disaster costs, ultimately leaving the burden to taxpayers. Allan estimates B.C. mines represent an underfunded liability of $1.5 billion.

There are over 84 abandoned contaminated industrial sites in B.C., mostly from mining, that will cost an estimated $508 million to remediate, according to the Crown Contaminated Sites Program. Responsibility for these sites falls to the province because the owners and operators of the projects “no longer exist,” according to the B.C. government.

Between 2014 and 2016 the cost of contaminated sites in B.C. rose 83.4 per cent. The spectre of financially unstable mining companies adds to the growing concern that B.C.’s mining boom along the Alaska border is occurring without regard for long-term cleanup and remediation costs.

Imperial Metals remains responsible for continuing cleanup and remediation around Mount Polley, where 24 million cubic metres of contaminated sludge and mine waste swept into lakes and rivers after the collapse of a 40-metre high tailings dam.

The Red Chris mine, which opened in late 2014 and has a 25-year lifespan, has a tailings impoundment seven times the capacity of Mount Polley.

Locals Fear Repeat of Tulsequah Chief Debacle

But Alaskans can already point to a glaring example of how badly things can go wrong when mine reclamation activities aren’t adequately funded.

The Tulsequah Chief Mine, on the Canadian side of the border, has been leaking acid mine drainage into a tributary of the salmon-rich Taku River for 60 years. After two company bankruptcies and frequent promises to clean up the mess, little has happened.

Chris Zimmer of Rivers Without Borders has a sinking feeling that, if Imperial Metals gets into deep financial problems, Red Chris could be a repeat of the Tulsequah Chief.

“We saw this happen at the Tulsequah Chief where we ended up with an abandoned mine pouring acid mine drainage into the river for 60 years. That was exactly the same process,” he said.

The fears are that either the company could go bankrupt and walk away from the mess at Red Chris or, if they are short of money, they will start cutting corners, Zimmer said.

“The government needs to step in and keep a very good eye on this site and what the company is doing,” he said.

Jacinda Mack, coordinator of First Nations Women Advocating Responsible Mining and a member of the Xat’sull First Nation, is already keeping a wary eye on Imperial Metals’ finances.

“I am very concerned with this new information about Imperial Metals,” Mack told DeSmog Canada.

“Will Imperial Metals walk away from their Mount Polley Mine and abandon their responsibilities to clean up and treat the pollution from the ongoing disaster — such as what happened with owners at the Tulsequah Chief?”

“They haven’t been very forthcoming at all about this financial situation…It is really frustrating when they are ignoring things like the lake colour changing and algal blooms that never happened before,” she said.

There are many questions that need answers, such as why B.C. is not requiring Imperial Metals to pay the full cost of the Mount Polley cleanup, Mack said.

“What is B.C. going to do to ensure Imperial Metals meets health and safety requirements and their commitment to clean up Mount Polley Mine?” Mack asked.

Hardcastle is also pushing for more oversight of the transboundary mines, which are among the largest in North America.

“We need to know how we can prevent these mines from getting so far along before there are more protections in place,” she said

Alaska Politicians Pushing for Input on Transboundary Mines

The concerns are echoed by Alaska’s congressional delegation and a letter sent to U.S. Secretary of State Rex Tillerson, signed by Alaska Governor Bill Walker, Lt. Governor Byron Mallott, Senator Lisa Murkowski, Senator Dan Sullivan and Congressman Don Young, says U.S. economic interests could be threatened by B.C. transboundary mining and “inadequate financial mechanisms to assure long term management of toxic wastes and redress for damages from potential releases.”

The letter emphasizes concerns about the development of large-scale hard rock mine proposals and operations in B.C. “and their potential catastrophic effects on Alaska’s communities and habitats surrounding the transboundary rivers.”

The Alaskan politicians want the State Department to push Canada for more input on transboundary mine proposals, development of a database to track cumulative effects on water quality and a decision on whether the issue should be referred to the International Joint Commission.

Mallott and Alaska tribal representatives met with B.C. officials in early November and are planning to go to Ottawa next year to hold further talks on transboundary watersheds, Mallott said in an emailed statement. He will also go to Washington in January to meet with State Department officials.

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There are a few unarguable truths about mine tailings, the pulverized rock, water and sludge left over from mineral extraction — mining is a messy business, the leftovers have to be dealt with forever and it’s impossible to guarantee against another tailings dam failure such as the Mount Polley catastrophe.

In B.C., there are 98 tailings storage facilities at 60 metal and coal mines, of which 31 are operating or under construction and the remaining 67 are at mines that are either permanently or temporarily closed

That means communities throughout B.C. and Alaska are looking nervously at nearby tailings ponds, which sometimes more closely resemble lakes, stretching over several square kilometres, with the toxic waste held back by earth and rock-filled dams. The water is usually recycled through the plant when the mine is operating, but, after the mine closes, water, toxins and finely ground rock must continue to be contained or treated.

It’s the realization that tailings have to be treated in perpetuity that worries many of those living downstream, especially as the Mount Polley breach happened only 17 years after the dam was constructed.

“The concept of forever boggles people minds. In one thousand years is the bank account still going to be there? These people are going to be dead,” said Chris Zimmer of Rivers Without Borders.

“There are time-bombs up there without a plan to deal with them. Are they going to be able to build a mine that’s going to keep its integrity forever?"

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It raises the question of whether there should be any mining in an area that is vital to five species of salmon and sustains the livelihoods of so many Alaskans, said Heather Hardcastle, a Juneau fisherman and coordinator of Salmon Beyond Borders.

“This is why this region of the world is so globally significant and why we care so much,” said Hardcastle, who is among those pushing for the issue to be referred to the International Joint Commission.

Two B.C. Tailings Dams Expected to Fail Every Decade: Expert Panel

The unease is heightened by the expert panel report on the Mount Polley dam failure, which concluded that, without significant changes to current mining practices, two tailings dams could be expected to fail in B.C. every 10 years.

Karina Brino, Mining Association of B.C CEO, said the association is aiming for a zero failure rate with members committed to implementing the panel’s recommendations for best practices.

But no one controls nature, Brino warned.

“I don’t think anyone can say this will never, ever happen again. It would be irresponsible to say that, because these are man-made structures that may be affected by natural causes,” she said.

Mining experts say that, with proper management, the ponds are safe.

“Different accidents happen, but is a plane safe? There are more accidents with planes than tailings dams. It depends on how you maintain them,” said University of B.C. mining professor Marcello Veiga.

Reclamation is a long-term commitment and communities need to be reassured that there are systems in place to look after the facilities, he said

It’s a claim met with skepticism by those battling for better safeguards for watersheds and an international assessment of the new-age gold rush on the B.C./Alaska border.

“Proposed Canadian mining and energy development on several headwaters within this region pose a major threat to fisheries and local communities downstream,” says a letter from Irene Dundas, Ketchikan Indian Community council member and former president.

“Our concern about Canada’s rush to develop this extraordinary region is compounded by recent legislative initiatives that have weakened Canadian environmental assessment standards and oversight.”

Mine Inspections Have Dropped Dramatically

According to the Chief Inspector of Mines annual reports, the number of mine inspections dropped dramatically from 2,021 in 2001 to 1,496 in 2002, after the B.C. Liberals came to power. The low was 494 in 2011 and in 2013, the latest figure available, there were 904 inspections. Mount Polley had 14 inspections, the highest of all mines.

First Nations land is ground zero for many of the dams and a June report by the B.C. First Nations Energy and Mining Council, which looked at 35 tailings ponds in northern B.C., found that 8,678 kilometres of streams, rivers and lakes, 33 First Nations communities and 208 cities and settlements would be in the path of contaminants if those dams failed.

Copper, a common contaminant in acid rock drainage, is acutely toxic to salmon and the First Nations Mining Council is calling for protection of river, lake and wetland ecosystems from industrial activities, protection for rivers with high numbers of migratory fish and better funding for problems that might arise after a mine closes.

Red Chris, KSM Mines to Use Tailings Ponds Despite Expert Recommendation

However, in northwest B.C., the two newest mines, Red Chris and KSM, are both close to important salmon rivers that flow into Southeast Alaska and both will use tailings ponds — despite a recommendation after the Mount Polley disaster that companies look at other methods, such as dry stack tailings, a method that involves filtering out water and piling dry tailings.

Several other mine proposals in the province’s northwest also specify the use of tailings ponds. The exception is the recently approved Silvertip project, owned by JDS Silver, which will use dry stacking and underground storage, despite the extra expense.

Red Chris, owned by Imperial Metals, which also owns Mount Polley, is close to the Iskut River, in the Stikine watershed. In June, Red Chris was handed its final operating permit by the province, following an evaluation of the tailings dam.

The dam is different from Mount Polley and has no lacustrine clay layer in the foundation – something that was instrumental in the Mount Polley breach — said Energy and Mines Ministry spokesman David Haslam.

“The Red Chris tailings storage facility has been the subject of three independent reviews done to assess seepage and design considerations,” he said

The province has been assured that Red Chris and its consultants have done extensive reviews of the site’s hydrogeology and made the necessary adjustments, Haslam said.

B.C.'s Push for New Transboundary Mines 'Astonishing'

But the decision to approve the Red Chris tailings pond has horrified Alaskan groups, who call the decision ill-conceived.

It is reckless for B.C. to permit a new mine with the same type of tailings technology that failed so catastrophically at Mount Polley, said a statement from Salmon Beyond Borders and the United Tribal Transboundary Mining Work Group.

“It’s astonishing to me how B.C. is dead set on getting these transboundary mines operating at all costs — even when their own experts say that current mining technology will fail,” said Rob Sanderson Jr., co-chair of the United Tribal Transboundary Mining Work Group.

Seabridge Gold’s KSM mine, which will stash its tailings behind a 239-metre high dam, making it among the highest in the world, is located in the Unuk River watershed, which drains into Alaska’s Misty Fjords National Monument.

Each mine has to be looked at individually and, for some, water management of tailings continues to be sound technology, Brino said.

“Dry stack is not new technology. It has been around for a long time and it’s more appropriate for dry climates and small operations because a lot of material needs to be hauled to the site,” she said.

“B.C. has a very wet climate and most are very large tailings facilities,” she said.

One of two mines operating in Southeast Alaska, Greens Creek, an underground silver and gold mine, uses dry-stacking and Pretium’s Brucejack, an underground mine in the Unuk watershed, recently approved by the province, plans to backfill waste underground or in lakes.

The province is moving to a requirement to have all mines with tailings ponds establish Independent Tailings Dam Review Boards, something Red Chris already has in place and a requirement that will apply to KSM, Haslam said.

Some additional requirements will not apply to those two mines as they have already received environmental assessment certificates, but, any changes to the Health, Safety and Reclamation Code for Mines, following a review this summer, will also apply to Red Chris and KSM, Haslam said,

No Compensation for Downstream Losses in Case of Tailings Dam Failure

Hardcastle, looking at the risks Southeast Alaska is facing, wants B.C. to take on more of the onus with an adequate bonding mechanism.

“There’s currently no mechanism for compensation for downstream losses when pollution occurs,” she said.

Security deposits the province requires from companies to ensure reclamation have gone from $10 million in 1984 to more than $791 million by the end of 2013, according to the Chief Inspector of Mines annual report.

The province currently holds $12 million in reclamation securities for Red Chris and $19 million for Mount Polley. The securities, which will be returned only when the sites are reclaimed, may change over the life of the mining operations.

However, the securities do not include cleaning up after disasters. Imperial Metals, which last year estimated the cleanup costs for Mount Polley at $67.4 million, is raising $100 million through debentures to cover the mop-up .

That should make all Alaskans feel insecure about corporate promises, said Zimmer, who has seen companies walk away after going bankrupt.

Photo: Cariboo Regional District

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Southeast Alaskans, anxious about B.C.'s mining boom along the Alaskan border, are pinning their hopes for stronger mine management on a treaty that dates back more than a century.

The International Joint Commission (IJC), operating under the Boundary Waters Treaty since 1909, is a body with six appointed members —three from Canada and three from the U.S. — used to resolve water or air conflicts between the two countries.

However, although the commission appears to be tailor-made to deal with the concern over B.C. mines in the headwaters of Southeast Alaska’s most important salmon rivers, politicians on both side of the border appear reluctant to hand over responsibility to a commission whose recommendations remain entirely independent of either party.

B.C. is seen as the major stumbling block, but the U.S. State Department is also hesitating, despite appeals to Secretary of State John Kerry from municipalities, First Nations, fishing organizations and tourism groups requesting the IJC's involvement.

In response to questions from DeSmog Canada, a State Department spokeswoman said the Mount Polley mine investigation is being watched closely and the State Department remains concerned about the potential effects of B.C. mines on the people of Alaska, but she encouraged B.C. and Alaska to increase cooperation and communication on transboundary mines rather than count on an IJC ruling.

“We have highlighted our concerns with the governments of Canada and B.C. at senior levels in government-to-government channels and do not anticipate referring this issue to the International Joint Commission at this time,” she said.

Alaska 'A Full Step Away' From Escalating Issue to Joint Commission: Lt. Governor

Alaska Lt. Gov. Byron Mallott, who recently travelled to B.C. to meet with Energy and Mines Minister Bill Bennett, said that discussions are continuing between Alaska and B.C. and he is not yet sure whether there will be a role for the IJC.

“Whether or not it is appropriate or timely that the IJC be invoked will be determined by the course of events,” Mallott said.

“To me, we are at least a full step away from that.”

If B.C. and Alaska forge a positive, transparent relationship, with sufficient oversight and cross-boundary input to safeguard Alaska’s interests, there may not be a need to seek help from the IJC, he said.

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“It is important that Alaska and B.C. and the interests on both sides of the border be able to take this as far as possible,” he said, adding that, during his visit, he did not see a strong federal presence on mining issues in B.C.

The state’s congressional delegation is keeping in contact with the State Department on a possible role for the IJC, Mallott said.

Last year, Senator Lisa Murkowski, former senator Mark Begich and Congressman Don Young wrote to John Kerry asking him to raise the problem with his Canadian counterparts.

“Water quality is an extremely important issue for Alaskans. Accordingly, we ask you and other officials from the Department of State to raise these concerns with the governments of Canada and B.C.,” the letter says.

Energy and Mines Minister Bill Bennett has not responded to a DeSmog Canada interview request, but, in statements to media after his meeting with Mallott, he acknowledged Alaska’s “legitimate concerns” and said the discussions were a good foundation for a possible memorandum of understanding with the state.

B.C. Permitting Process Doesn’t Address Cumulative Impacts

The MOU could be similar to the arrangement with Montana, covering the Flathead River, where water testing is done at the border, he suggested.

However, the idea of an MOU does not sit well with grassroots groups pushing for a referral to the IJC.

MOUs are largely focused on information sharing and do not provide enforceable protections for downstream resources, said Chris Zimmer of Rivers Without Borders.

“Bennett’s offer for greater involvement in the B.C. permitting process is simply inadequate to address our concerns and is a sign that B.C. is not taking our concerns seriously,” Zimmer said.

“The B.C. permitting process, no matter how well it is carried out, is simply not designed to address long-term impacts from multiple mines, across a broad landscape, over the long term.”

It is always a difficult decision for politicians to ask for outside help, said David LaRoche, who served as executive secretary to the U.S. side of the commission from 1979 to 1996 and has since worked on transboundary watershed issues.

“Each country takes a leap of faith when it relies on something outside the established mechanism to have the issue addressed,” he said.

All Parties Need to Agree to Refer Case to International Joint Commission

Ideally, if the IJC is to be involved, there should be agreement from B.C., Canada, Alaska and the U.S.

“Under the treaty it is possible for one country to ask the commission to undertake a study, but it has never happened and the chances are close to zero as it would have no value because it would immediately be seen as biased by the country that did not ask,” LaRoche said.

Historically, both countries ask for a reference and agree on the specifics they want the IJC to study.

“If a province or state were to object it would be highly unlikely that a letter of reference would be sent. Unless B.C. is agreeable, this one won’t unfold,” LaRoche said.

Those campaigning for the commission’s involvement point to article four of the treaty, which says “waters flowing across the boundary shall not be polluted on either side to the injury of health or property on the other.”

Two B.C. Tailings Dams Expected to Fail Every 10 Years

So far, none of the new mines in northwest B.C. have polluted rivers, but there is a grating awareness of the possibility of a Mount Polley-type accident, something which was underlined by the report from the independent panel looking into the failure of the tailings pond dam, which found, under current regulations, two B.C. dams would be expected to fail every 10 years.

It is a statistic that shocked observers on both sides of the border and led to ramped up calls for a referral to the IJC.

Even though findings by the commission are not binding on either party, the recommendations carry a hefty dose of moral suasion and public clout, especially as conclusions are usually reached by consensus.

In 1984, after complaints by B.C., the IJC gave the thumbs-down to construction of a dam on the Skagit River that would have flooded parts of B.C. and in 1985, after U.S. complaints, the IJC recommended against an open pit coalmine in B.C.’s Flathead Valley until the impact on fisheries could be eliminated.

NDP energy and mines spokesman Norm Macdonald said the core issue, in the wake of the systemic failures pointed out by the Mount Polley report, is the need for the province to enforce environmental rules and standards, putting public safety ahead of economics, rather than cutting essential staff and accepting huge donations from the mining industry.

“Whatever tool you use, it has to be something where there is no tolerance for failure,” Macdonald said.

“We don’t tolerate elevators or bridges falling down and we have to take the same attitude to these facilities.”

Photo: www.sacbee.com

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Long-held perceptions of Canada as a country with strict environmental standards and B.C. as a province that values natural beauty are taking a near-fatal beating in Southeast Alaska, where many now regard Canadians as bad neighbours who are unilaterally making decisions that could threaten the region’s two major economic drivers.

Fishing and tourism — each billion-dollar industries — are the lifeblood of Southeast Alaska, where glaciers sweep down into rivers home to five species of wild salmon and massive snow-covered peaks tower over fertile wetlands.

Tourism accounts for 10,900 jobs in the Alaska Panhandle and salmon fishing employs 7,300 people.

Air and water are the only ways into communities such as Juneau, the state capital, and almost seven million hectares, or three-quarters of Southeast Alaska, are within the Tongass National Forest, where industrial activity is limited.

But, upstream, in northwest B.C., there is a new-style gold rush with an unprecedented number of applications for open-pit gold and copper mines, some made viable by construction of the Northwest Transmission Line and all requiring road access.

Alaskan politicians, tribes, fishing organizations and environmental groups have come together in a rare show of unity to condemn B.C.’s push to approve mines close to major transboundary salmon rivers, such as the Stikine, Taku and Unuk, which run from B.C. into Alaska. Tensions are running so high the groups are asking the International Joint Commission, designed to resolve Canada/U.S. water problems, to step in.

Canada is increasingly viewed as a “bad actor,” whose record — most recently illustrated by the Mount Polley mine tailings dam collapse — shows that the province’s environmental regulations and oversight is not strong enough to protect downstream communities.

“It’s the new wild west,” said Heather Hardcastle, a commercial fisherman and co-ordinator of Salmon Beyond Borders, pointing out that, even though Alaska has nothing to gain and everything to lose, Alaskans are being denied meaningful input into mine decisions.

10 Advanced Mining Projects in Northwestern B.C.

The new mines include Imperial Metals’ Red Chris, a copper and gold mine operated by the same company that owns Mount Polley, and Seabridge Gold’s massive KSM (Kerr-Sulpherets-Mitchell) mine, 30 kilometres from the U.S border and Misty Fjords National Monument, which will open up mining of the largest undeveloped gold reserve in the world. KSM has provincial and federal environmental assessment approval and is waiting for permits.

According to B.C.’s Ministry of Energy and Mines there are 10 advanced projects in the northwest corner of B.C. and numerous others in exploration phases.

Graphic: Salmon Beyond Borders

They include Kitsault (under construction), Silvertip (provincial permit granted in June), Tulsequah Chief (construction started, but project delayed), Brucejack (Mines Act permit application under review), Kutcho and Schaft Creek (both in the environmental assessment pre-application stage).

In comparison, there are only five operating mines in Alaska, of which two are in Southeast Alaska and one of which uses dry stack tailings, the method of dealing with acid-generating mine waste favoured by the expert panel that investigated the Mount Polley dam collapse.

The Canadian system appears to aim “to get to yes fast,” without consideration of other values when it comes to resource extraction, said Jev Shelton, a commercial fisherman and former member of the Pacific Salmon Commission, the joint Canadian/U.S. regulatory body designed to protect salmon stocks.

“It is certainly triggering a fair bit of anger,” Shelton said.

B.C. Moving 'Full Speed Ahead'

The pace and scale of development is huge, said Chris Zimmer of Rivers Without Borders.

“B.C. is going full speed ahead without any brakes. It looks as if they’re trying to move as fast as they can before Alaska puts up hurdles.”

There is growing indignation that B.C. is not listening to Alaskan concerns and that additional input, promised in May after Energy and Mines Minister Bill Bennett met with Alaska’s Lieutenant Governor Byron Mallott, amounts to little more than window-dressing.

“We were a bit stunned by Bill Bennett giving us the table scraps and saying Alaska can come in at the final stages of permitting — they’re saying we will involve you when the final decision has been made to build the mine,” Zimmer said.

Alaskan Concerns Ignored

Gillnetter and fisheries consultant Lindsey Bloom agrees that Alaskan questions are being ignored.

“Since I started working on this issue, the disregard of Canadian officials towards us is concerning,” she said.

While Mallott and Bennett were meeting in B.C., a group of Alaskan tribal leaders, fishing industry representatives and environmental advocates met with high-level provincial government staff.

However, it was an exercise in frustration because of the lack of answers or acknowledgement of downstream concerns, according to several people who attended the meeting.

“We tried to explain we don’t want more say in the permitting process, we want something to put us on an equal footing with B.C.,” Hardcastle said.

B.C. government staff appeared to think their task was to explain the process instead of listening to concerns and suggestions, said several members of the Alaskan delegation.

Mallott, who is leading an Alaskan transboundary waters working group, said in an interview with DeSmog Canada, that, during their meeting, Bennett was amenable to the notion of more Alaskan involvement and he has been invited to Alaska to continue the conversation.

Staff who have looked at B.C.’s technical permitting and assessment of mines believe the rules in B.C. and Alaska are generally equivalent, said Mallott.

“But there are significant differences. Whether the entire range of environmental assessment and permitting is robust enough to protect both B.C. and U.S. and Alaskan interests is still something we all need to be made more comfortable with,” he said.

“We would want Alaskan officials at the table when decisions are made in such areas of permitting that it is possible that catastrophic events could take place.”

Mount Polley Tailings Dam Collapse Stokes Fears Downstream

The pace of development and the cumulative impacts of the mines in B.C. are alarming, but it is the failures that haunt Alaskans.

The image of 24-million cubic metres of mine tailings and waste water sweeping down from the Mount Polley tailings dam is etched into memories, but there are others such as the constant irritant of the ongoing acid drainage from the Tulsequah Chief mine.

“It underlines the Canadian government’s lack of commitment to what happens in the river,” said commercial fisherman Len (Pete) Peterson.

The copper and gold mine, near the confluence of the Tulsequah and Taku Rivers, has been leaking acid since Cominco stopped mining in 1957. Since 1989, there have been numerous remediation and pollution abatement orders from the B.C. government, but the leakage continues.

Earlier this year the province gave Chieftain Metals Corp., the latest owner, permission to re-open the mine and the company is currently trying to obtain financing. However, hurdles include opposition from the Taku River Tlingit First Nation. In an attempt to circumvent the problem, the company is proposing a barging system, instead of an access road, but that is likely to be a problem for Alaskan gillnetters.

At Johnny Mountain, close to the Iskut River, operations ceased in 1993 and the company attempted to burn and bury equipment. Although there has been some soil remediation, what threat remains of acid rock drainage from the underground operation is unclear.

“They shoved (the equipment) into the mountain and blew it up,” said miner Joe Bradley, who recently flew over the area.

The test of B.C.’s process is how it is carried out and the “real world” results, Zimmer said.

“Alaska understands the B.C. process. Where has it gotten us? Mount Polley disaster, Tulsequah Chief and five decades of acid mine drainage, renewed talk of Taku River barging, a total lack of involvement on the evaluation of the Red Chris mine, a denial of Alaska’s request for a KSM panel review,” Zimmer said.

Photo: Chris Zimmer

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