It wasn’t long ago that the idea of a zero-emissions electric vehicle silently cruising the streets sounded like something out of The Jetsons. According to the International Energy Agency, there are now more than seven million electric cars on the roads and there could be as many as 245 million by 2030.

But each of those cars relies on a battery to get from point A to point B. And those batteries are made with minerals like lithium, graphite, cobalt and nickel — all of which are mined. 

Mined materials are also necessary to make wind turbines and solar panels. This demand is creating something of an environmental conundrum.

Research shows that mining waste has increased more than 300 per cent in some regions in the past decade and mining is responsible for up to 20 per cent of greenhouse gas emissions. With the push for more renewables, those numbers are set to increase. According to the World Bank and independent studies, by 2050 the energy transition is expected to increase the demand for certain minerals 30- to 800-fold.

Yet experts warn that the inevitable increase in mining activity is unsustainable under existing laws and regulations that aren’t adequate to ensure the transition to renewable energy is safe and just.

“We’re trading fossil fuel extraction for mineral extraction,” Jamie Kneen from MiningWatch Canada told The Narwhal in an interview. “We have to change the rules. Action has to be much more comprehensive and committed.”

Last November, nearly 200 experts, academics, researchers and activists from around the world met in Ottawa to discuss what it would take for mining to have a positive role in the transition to a low-carbon future. 

Here are their key recommendations, as compiled in a new report by MiningWatch Canada.

Reduce demand for energy and mined materials

The simplest way to reduce the demand for mined materials is to reduce the demand for energy. 

A reduced demand for energy is necessary to reduce the impact of mining on communities. But it’s also necessary because the earth’s mineral resources are actually finite. 

According to a 2019 report by Earthworks and the Institute for Sustainable Futures, the projected mineral demand for renewable energy would consume all of the cobalt, lithium and nickel on the planet.

That Earthworks report also found improving manufacturing efficiency and implementing recycling policies could reduce demand for certain primary minerals by up to 40 per cent.

Electric vehicles are expected to be the main drivers of the increased demand for mined metals. Photo: Wikimedia Commons

According to the MiningWatch report, battery storage for electric vehicles is projected to be the main driver of the increased demand for mined metals in the energy transition. As a result, the report said systemic changes are needed in urban design and transportation systems to “massively reduce the number of cars, not just build zero-emissions vehicles instead.”

The MiningWatch report also found the greatest opportunity to reduce the need for battery metals is to simply recycle used batteries.

Companies like Tesla are already operating in-house recycling facilities. But Kneen said industry-led initiatives are not enough and governments should be encouraging and supporting recycling initiatives.

While B.C. has created legislation to ensure 100 per cent of new vehicles sold in the province are electric by 2040, it doesn’t include rules or guidelines around recycling. 

Protect water from mining waste and disasters

The MiningWatch report stresses the importance of prioritizing environmental protection and preventing contamination and toxic mine waste disasters. 

“If lithium is the new ‘white gold,’ water is our ‘blue gold.’ It must be protected above all else,” Rodrigue Turgeon, a spokesperson for the Citizen Committee Protecting the Esker, a grassroots organization in northern Quebec, said in the report.

Landscapes in northern B.C. are littered with warnings of what can happen if mine waste is inadequately managed. 

In 2014, the Mount Polley mine spilled 24 million cubic metres of toxic waste into creeks, rivers and lakes when its tailings dam broke. And for more than 60 years, the abandoned Tulsequah Chief mine has been leaking contaminated waste water into a salmon watershed. These disasters illustrate the need for “no-go zones” — places where mining is prohibited.

Water contaminated with acid mine drainage flows into a containment pond near the Tulsequah River. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

The MiningWatch report suggests establishing participatory, community-based processes to identify no-go zones, supported by local, national and international legal frameworks.

One of the no-go zones highlighted in the report is the ocean floor, where the extraction of minerals could cause irreparable damage to ecosystems. 

Kneen said the challenge of protecting ecosystems where mining should not take place boils down to who has the final say.

“People are going to have to choose and it’s really a question of who gets to choose,” he said. “Is it the First Nation or the community? Or is it the government on behalf of society at large? Or is it just a corporate feasibility study?”

Respect Indigenous Rights and human rights

The right to say “no” to mining projects, however, is missing from most jurisdictions, including B.C. 

The report notes that, to be sustainable, mineral extraction must “require the free, prior and informed consent of Indigenous Peoples and the consent of local communities prior to any mining exploration or developments.”

But in B.C., the out-of-date Mineral Tenure Act allows anyone with a computer and a few dollars to stake a claim without asking permission. And even when First Nations are consulted through the environmental assessment process, a vital part of Indigenous Rights is still missing. 

Experts warn we may run out of the mined metals required to make enough solar panels to meet the growing demand. Photo: Science in HD / Unsplash

“The problem we’re having is that consent doesn’t seem to include no,” Kneen said. “There’s a clear imbalance of power. When the mining company shows up, they’ve got their teams of technical people and lawyers and what have you. And then you’ve got the community people — they’re just outgunned.”

And when environmental disaster happens, Indigenous communities are often left with devastation to the natural ecosystems they rely on for food and culture.  

“We’ve seen the disasters of Mount Polley’s massive mine waste spill and other failures worldwide grossly impacting Indigenous communities, the land and watersheds they protect,” Loretta Williams, one of the founding members of the First Nations Women Advocating Responsible Mining, said in the report.

The conference participants agreed that protecting basic human rights and respecting Indigenous sovereignty is vital as mining activity steadily increases. “Breaking from the pattern of colonial and capitalist exploitation has to be part of a just transition,” the report said. 

Improve government policy, regulations and legislation

Legal reforms are also going to be necessary to ensure mining activity for renewable energy doesn’t cause more environmental harm than good.

In B.C., activists and responsible mining advocates have been calling for reforms to provincial laws for decades. One of the key reforms needed, critics say, is a law that ensures the polluter pays. Mining companies are required to pay deposits to the province before extracting any minerals to cover the costs of cleanup and closure in case the company goes bankrupt. But as The Narwhal recently reported, those deposits often aren’t enough to cover cleanup costs. B.C. is short more than $1 billion for cleanup and that deficit could ultimately be shouldered by taxpayers. 

A recent poll by the BC Mining Law Reform network and Northern Confluence showed that 90 per cent of British Columbians surveyed want mining companies to be responsible for the environmental damages they cause. 

Following the Mount Polley dam failure, an independent panel reviewed the incident and presented recommendations to the government to prevent similar disasters from happening. According to a recent report by the B.C. First Nations Energy and Mining Council, those recommendations still haven’t been adequately addressed by the province.

And the Tulsequah Chief has shown just how challenging cleaning up and closing a mine can be. The province, despite making a commitment to clean up the long-standing environmental damage, has been hamstrung by legal restrictions caused by the bankruptcy of the mine’s owner.

Quesnel Lake was once considered one of the cleanest bodies of water in B.C. Since the Mount Polley spill, many residents fear drinking the water. Photo: Louis Bockner / The Narwhal

The MiningWatch report notes laws and government policies need to reflect the importance of minimizing social and environmental damage. “Legal protections need to be strengthened, developed and implemented to prevent harm, establish real accountability — including through supply chains — and respect Indigenous territories and governance.”  

Kneen said the Initiative for Responsible Mining Assurance is a significant step in the right direction. Similar to the Forest Stewardship Council, the independent organization audits mines and rates them based on social, environmental and operational benchmarks. A mine automatically fails if it doesn’t meet certain requirements, such as not using child labour. The idea is if a mine has the certification, buyers can trust that the minerals were sourced responsibly.

Manufacturers and retailers can also become members, which commits them to sourcing from certified mines. In January, BMW committed to sourcing its raw materials to produce its fleet of electric vehicles from certified mines. 

The program’s first audits have just wrapped up and while it remains to be seen how successful the program is, advocates are hopeful.

“They’re recognizing that there’s no mine in the world that’s ever going to get 100 per cent … but you work your way towards that,” Kneen said.

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The bankrupt owner of the Tulsequah Chief mine in northwest B.C. has been discharged from receivership, paving the way for B.C. to finally clean up an infamous site that has been polluting the Taku River watershed for more than 60 years.

The story of the acid-leaching mine, abandoned in the 1950s by its first owner, Cominco, later bought by Teck Resources, has been a sore spot for B.C., which has been criticized for its failure to adequately account for long-term mine liabilities in its permitting process.

Chieftain Metals purchased the Tulsequah Chief mine in 2010, accepting responsibility for the site’s remediation, but quickly closed the mine because of the high costs of operating in such a remote location. The company filed for bankruptcy in 2016 and defaulted on a $26-million loan from its largest creditor, West Face Capital, a Toronto-based investment company. 

West Face Capital started the receivership process through the Ontario Superior Court, which gave the company access to Chieftain’s assets and permission to sell the mine to recoup some of its losses, which it was unable to do. 

Last month, the court closed the four-year process and discharged Chieftain, but granted West Face Capital a two-year extension to continue the search for a buyer. A buyer would have to pay Chieftain’s debts as part of the purchase. 

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

According to the B.C. government’s submissions to the court, the province has been reluctant to clean up and close the mine during the receivership proceedings because any time, effort and money invested in reclamation could ultimately benefit West Face Capital and a future buyer. Despite this, the province has been working on interim remediation at the site since 2016. 

It’s unknown how the two-year extension will affect the province because no one there is able to provide a comment until the final results of the provincial election are determined. However, Will Patric, executive director of Rivers Without Borders, is hopeful the end of the receivership will open the door for B.C. to start more concerted cleanup efforts.

The abandoned Tulsequah Chief mine site is just meters from the Tulsequah River, a tributary of the salmon-rich Taku River. For six decades, B.C. has failed to address acid mine drainage at the site. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

“As long as the receivership was in place, B.C. may have had its hands somewhat tied relative to remediation options. But now it doesn’t,” he said. “It’s not the knockout punch we might like to see, ending the receivership absolutely and unequivocally, but in the context of 63 years of unabated toxic discharge into a world-class salmon river system like the Taku, this is another really good step in the right direction.”

West Face Capital’s request for an unlimited extension denied

In the final court hearing in August, West Face Capital requested an unlimited extension to the receivership process so it could indefinitely attempt to recoup its losses. The Taku River Tlingit First Nation, whose territory the mine is on, argued that an indefinite timeline would  undermine efforts to stop the pollution and close the mine for good.

“Taku River Tlingit has little confidence that the mine is economically viable or that the mine can be operated in a way that would be acceptable to them,” the nation said in its submission to the court.

The court agreed with the nation’s assessment.

It’s unlikely any mining company will want to touch Tulsequah, according to Chris Zimmer, Alaska campaign director with Rivers Without Borders. Because the mine has been polluting a transboundary watershed for so long, it has attracted the ire of Alaska and B.C. environmental groups and Indigenous communities on both sides of the border. 

“It’s a relatively small mine for the amount of controversy it’s generated over the last couple of decades,” Zimmer said. “I’d be surprised if someone wants to come in and buy something that has [this] environmental liability and the political liability. 

The site is only accessible by plane or barge, which means operating costs are high and the logistics of transporting equipment to the mine, which include crossing an international border, are challenging. 

At 18,000 square kilometers, the Taku River watershed is one of the largest, unroaded, unprotected watersheds along North America’s Pacific coast.. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

For the Taku River Tlingit, the cleanup and final closure of the mine would restore a culturally important part of their territory. In its submission to the court, the nation explained that the word Tulsequah comes from a Tlingit word meaning “root garden river” and the area contains many significant wildlife, plants, campsites and settlement areas. 

“Taku River Tlingit people are not currently able to exercise their Aboriginal rights at or around the mine site due to unsafe conditions and fears that plants and animals harvested from the area would be unhealthy to consume because of environmental contamination from the mine.” 

The nation said it has taken steps to designate the Tulsequah Valley as an Indigenous Protected and Conserved Area. 

Will the polluter pay?

After decades of pressure to take responsibility for the mine, B.C. agreed to partner with the Taku River Tlingit to develop a reclamation and closure plan, which was released in August, despite the possibility of a new buyer stepping in. 

As The Narwhal previously reported, the 113-page plan proposes a multi-step process with final closure options to be informed by on-site work over the next five years.

Some groundwork for the planned cleanup is already underway.

The province has built a work camp, repaired roads and bridges and transported fuel and supplies to the site in preparation for work next spring. An aerialLiDAR survey, which will help create detailed 3D maps using laser scanners, was delayed due to poor weather conditions over the summer.

The province hopes the planned survey will take place in the spring. 

The estimated cost of the cleanup and closure is just shy of $50 million in upfront costs plus an additional $1 million per year for monitoring and maintenance.

The work thus far has been funded by money Chieftain paid the province in the form of a bond. When a mining company receives a permit to operate, it is required to pay the industrial equivalent of a damage deposit to cover the cost of cleanup in case it goes bankrupt. But the province doesn’t always collect enough. A 2018 report from B.C.’s chief inspector of mines said the province is more than $1 billion short to cover land reclamation costs for all abandoned mines and contaminated sites.

Water contaminated with acid mine drainage flows into a containment pond near the Tulsequah River. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

 As The Narwhal reported earlier this year, critics have been calling for reforms to B.C.’s mining laws to ensure the polluter pays and taxpayers aren’t left to cover the costs. Chieftain paid just over $1 million and most of that money has already been spent.

In a letter to Chieftain Metals dated Sept. 2, 2020, B.C.’s chief inspector of mines said the province only has $316,000 left. But the government set up a lien on the mine and its associated mineral tenure for all future work the province does on reclamation and closure, which means any money the province spends after it uses up the remaining security would have to be paid back by a future buyer. 

When the two-year extension to find a new buyer is up, it remains to be seen who will be responsible for the final bill. Under Section 45 of the B.C. Environmental Management Act, the province can hold previous owners liable. 

When The Narwhal asked Teck Resources if it would be contributing financially to the mine closure, it provided the same statement it had previously given The Narwhal for another story. 

“We understand that a number of ongoing legal proceedings with respect to the site will need to come to a conclusion as a long-term approach is finalized,” the statement said. “However, as this process moves forward, we are supportive of the province and the Taku River Tlingit First Nation’s interim reclamation actions at the site.”

Zimmer questioned the statement, saying there’s only one legal proceeding on the books. But regardless, he said the company should be held financially accountable. 

“The law is very clear. There’s no debate of whether Teck is the liable party here. The question is how much will Teck contribute? And how much are the taxpayers stuck with here?”

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The Tulsequah Chief mine — which has been leaking contaminated water into a salmon watershed on the B.C.-Alaska border for over 60 years — will cost $48.7 million to clean up, according to a final remediation plan released by the B.C. government on Wednesday. 

The cleanup effort will also cost up to $1 million a year for monitoring and maintenance in perpetuity, according to the plan. It’s unclear who will pay the cleanup tab, because the owner of the mine is in receivership.

The province, in collaboration with the Taku River Tlingit First Nation, said it will begin work this summer to ready the Tulsequah Chief mine site for final closure. 

“Taking action now is critical in order to begin to address the impacts of the former Tulsequah Chief mine,” George Heyman, Minister of Environment and Climate Change Strategy, said in a press release. 

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

According to a 2016 report commissioned by Rivers Without Borders, a non-profit organization in  that focuses on transboundary issues in B.C. and Alaska, an estimated one million litres of contaminated water flows into the Tulsequah River, a main tributary of the Taku River, every day.

“After more than 60 years of polluting a world class salmon watershed, two bankruptcies, four years of receivership proceedings and a lot of promises, we are finally seeing real progress toward mine cleanup and closure,” Chris Zimmer of Rivers Without Borders said in a press release. 

“We have some concerns with the closure and cleanup plan and as to how and when the plan will be implemented. But between B.C.’s strong demand to end the receivership process and the release of the cleanup and closure plan, there is real momentum toward ending pollution from the Tulsequah Chief.”

Water at the Tulsequah Chief mine is contaminated due to acid rock drainage, which occurs when rock becomes oxidized and forms sulphuric acid, which leaches heavy metals out of the rock. The contaminated water includes copper and zinc, among other contaminants, at levels far exceeding safe standards. 

The 113-page final remediation plan was prepared by SNC Lavalin and SRK Consulting and includes cost estimates and a conceptual five-year plan to permanently close the mine and contain the acid rock drainage. 

Water contaminated with acid mine drainage flows into a containment pond near the Tulsequah River. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

Who will pay to close the Tulsequah Chief mine?

Teck-Cominco operated the Tulsequah Chief mine for seven years, before abandoning it in 1957. The company, a mining giant in Canada, never put systems in place to contain the toxic waste materials.

Chieftain Metals bought the property in 2010 to reopen the mine, on the condition that it addressed the acid rock drainage issues. It built an interim water treatment plant, but only operated it for less than a year before the company shut it down, citing high operational costs. Chieftain never achieved its goals of reopening the mine before going into receivership in 2016. This week, the company and its largest creditor, West Face Capital, attended a hearing at the Ontario Superior Court of Justice to determine whether the receivership proceedings will be finalized or extended. 

The decision on receivership is critical to determining the future of the mine site. West Face Capital could acquire the property through debt owed to the company by Chieftain Metals. If this happened, it would be in a position to sell the property to another mining company. In the hearing, West Face asked for an indefinite extension to the receivership so it can continue to pursue a buyer.  

The Taku River Tlingit First Nation submitted its statements to the court, urging for a quick and final decision. 

“Taku River Tlingit people are not currently able to exercise their Aboriginal rights at or around the mine site due to unsafe conditions and fears that plants and animals harvested from the area would be unhealthy to consume because of environmental contamination from the mine,” the statement read.

While it’s uncertain who will foot the bill for the eventual cleanup and closure of the mine, Teck has been involved in planning workshops for the reclamation report. 

“We understand that a number of ongoing legal proceedings with respect to the site will need to come to a conclusion as a long-term approach is finalized,” Teck told The Narwhal in a statement. “However, as this process moves forward, we are supportive of the province and the Taku River Tlingit First Nation’s interim reclamation actions at the site.” 

‘When are they going to ensure the polluter pays?’: proposed B.C. mining reforms don’t go far enough

Last year, the Environmental Law Centre and more than 30 mining advocacy and legal organizations called on the B.C. government to reform its mining laws. Suggested changes included ensuring companies are held legally liable for cleanup and setting up requirements for long-term independent analysis of water treatment systems. Even if those reforms are implemented, legacies like Tulsequah could remain a direct cost to taxpayers.

While mining companies are required to provide money up front to the government to cover the costs of reclamation, the province currently only has $1.6 billion in bonds to cover an estimated $2.8 billion in reclamation costs. 

“This small mining site is a stark reminder that we need to make sure the polluter pays and that we update our reclamation bond policy,” Nikki Skuce, director at Northern Confluence, said in an email. “It also reinforces that if you can’t clean up your mess because of costs, remoteness or complexities with the site, then you shouldn’t be able to mine at all. I think British Columbians would support no-go zones for mining and ensuring the polluter pays if it meant protecting salmon rivers and avoiding $50 million taxpayer clean-up bills.”

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

Location and complexity of the mine challenges reclamation efforts

Because the site is so remote, access has always been an issue driving up costs associated with reclamation. There is no road to the former mine — small aircraft and barge are the only ways to reach the site. Barging on the river can only be done in high flow, which means there is a very narrow window of time each year to get equipment to the site, and with tides affecting entry to the Taku River, the logistics are challenging. Extreme weather conditions further complicate access.

“Where the mouth of the Taku meets the salt water, a number of different mountain ranges and channels come together, and it can be just like a horrible washing machine, and very difficult to get through,” Zimmer with Rivers Without Borders told The Narwhal in an interview. “What we’ve seen in the past when the mining companies were trying to barge stuff up there, the barges were getting stuck everywhere.” But Zimmer said it’s still the obvious option. “Flying in a bulldozer is pretty expensive.”

Accessing the site via river also means crossing an international border, a lengthy bureaucratic process. Then, once the barge reaches a suitable landing site, the equipment still has to travel to the mine on road, which is in dire need of repair. 

“Some of the first steps include replacing and repairing bridges, upgrading the access road, establishing an erosion protection berm and repairing the existing airstrip,” the ministry said in the press release.

The abandoned Tulsequah Chief mine site is situated just meters from the Tulsequah, a tributary of the salmon-rich Taku River. For six decades B.C. has failed to address acid mine drainage at the mine site. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

Final remediation plans are a work in progress

Zimmer told The Narwhal the plan reads more like a plan for a plan, outlining several options and highlighting significant gaps in data. 

“To call it a final plan could be confusing. It’s not the final plan. It’s kind of a framework that says here are the questions we need to answer, we need to do these studies, here are the options, and here are the pros and cons. So it’s still really hard to tell exactly how good this is going to be — it depends on how it’s implemented.”

The challenges of accessing the mine and the complexity of the site delayed field studies last year. This year, the outbreak of COVID-19 further delayed fieldwork. As The Narwhal recently reported, plans are underway to continue studies this summer, but it’s uncertain whether the recent announcement will include work on-site.

“The closure and reclamation plan outlines a phased approach that involves a series of steps designed to reduce the ongoing contamination,” the government statement said. “It is designed to be flexible, so changes can be made once more information is gathered from the site.”

Zimmer said he isn’t a fan of so-called “adaptive management” but given the site’s complexity, it’s the only way forward.

As for the actual closure of the mine, the report proposes three different options for controlling and addressing the water contamination issues. One dilutes the waste water with creek water to reduce the toxins to safe levels before it reaches the river. Another suggests controlling the rate at which the water is coming out, similarly to dilute and regulate the acidic content. And the last option proposes to inject the waste water underground into the aquifer beneath the Tulsequah River.

“There still seem to be a lot of unknowns in terms of water treatment options to deal with the copper, lead, zinc and other toxins that far exceed B.C. water quality guidelines,” said Skuce, the Northern Confluence director. “None of the options to dilute or bury the wastewater seem ideal, but it’s reassuring that the province is working with the Taku River Tlingit First Nation and State of Alaska who highly value salmon and water quality.”

The report itself admitted each of the options has significant drawbacks, but said the site could require a combination of all of the methods of water treatment. 

“The combination here of an acid-producing mine right next to salmon habitat, you know, it’s a bad combination,” Zimmer said. “And it points out the challenges of reclaiming these mines. Dealing with acid mine drainage, this stuff is insidious.”

Despite the obvious challenges ahead, Zimmer is optimistic. “Let’s get some things done now that we know we can do and hopefully we can stick to a good timeline. Overall, I think it’s a very good step forward.” 

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 remote corner of northwest B.C., an old mixed-metals mine has been leaching contaminated water into the largest tributary of the salmon-producing Taku River for more than 60 years. 

In 2019, the B.C. government said it would have a final remediation and reclamation plan ready at the end of that year. But now, due to delays related to COVID-19, the province says the plan won’t be made public until the fall or later and on-the-ground work won’t start until next year at the earliest. 

Salmon Beyond Borders campaign director Jill Weitz is disappointed by the delay but said the work has to be done right.

“Last year, we were all really excited,” Weitz told The Narwhal. “But given that this has been an issue for 60 years, there’s certainly no need to rush the process. It might take as long to clean up as it took to pollute.”

Teck-Cominco abandoned the mine in 1957 after operating it for seven years. Since then, and possibly before, contaminated water has been leaking directly into the watershed. In 2010, Chieftain Metals acquired the property and promised to reopen the mine and address the contaminated water. It failed on both fronts and went into receivership in 2016.

The Tulsequah Chief mine sits on the banks of the Tulsequah River, 10 kilometres from where it meets the Taku River, which flows into the Pacific near Juneau, Alaska. Last year’s government announcement was met with relief by campaigners on both sides of the border, who have been working for decades to get someone to take responsibility for the mess and clean it up.

“The Alaskans have been pissed off for years, and rightly so,” said Nikki Skuce, director of Northern Confluence, an initiative based out of Smithers that focuses on land use decisions in northern B.C. “The Taku River seems pretty remote to British Columbians, way up in the very northwest corner, but it’s not to the citizens of Juneau.”

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

Province blames delays on ‘complexity’ of site, COVID-19

Last year, the province and the Taku River Tlingit First Nation selected a proponent to develop a remediation plan for the Tulsequah Chief mine. 

The plan was developed by SRK Consulting and SNC-Lavalin, a Montreal-based engineering firm that faced criminal charges in 2018 and 2019 for its business operations in Libya and in June was ordered to pay the Canadian government $1.9 million for its role in a bid-rigging scheme in Quebec. 

The final plan was submitted to the province in April and is currently being reviewed, Karemaker said. The province declined The Narwhal’s request to review the plan. 

There were several reasons the report was late, Kent Karemaker, a spokesperson for the Ministry of Energy, Mines and Petroleum Resources, wrote in an email.  

“Due to the complexity of the site, the lack of historical data to support current assessments and the remoteness of the location and associated logistics, the completion of the remediation and reclamation plan was significantly delayed,” he said. “Similarly, due to COVID-19, the anticipated progress on the receivership process was delayed.”

We back-country paddled to the Tulsequah Chief, B.C.’s most infamous abandoned mine

Before the province can commence work, receivership has to be finalized because the government needs the money Chieftain gave it in a bond to pay for the work. 

Mines are required to post bonds with the government to cover the eventual costs of reclamation. The province currently sits on $1.6 billion in bonds to cover an estimated $2.8 billion in reclamation costs. When a mining company goes bust, taxpayers pay the difference. 

The province has collected just over $1 million from Chieftain and estimates cleanup will cost $1.2 million. However, Chieftain’s unsuccessful attempts to treat the contaminated water cost $5 million, so the final cleanup costs will likely be much higher. 

As for when receivership will be complete, Karemaker said that “given that this resides within the authority of the Ontario courts, the province is not at liberty to provide a firmer timeline, but anticipates a satisfactory outcome towards the fall.” 

The pandemic has also delayed on-the-ground work. “COVID-19 presents a challenge for operationalizing field plans this season; however, B.C. is planning to undertake work in summer 2020 to support additional studies, which are needed to plan larger-scale remedial activities,” Karemaker said.

That work includes a LiDAR survey to support design work for reclamation plans. LiDAR, or light detection and ranging, uses a system of laser scanners and GPS on a plane or helicopter to acquire accurate topographical data. The data is used to create detailed 3D maps. 

The government is also initiating an aquatics monitoring program to measure the alkalinity of the water and its impacts on aquatic life, as well as sample and study fish and other aquatic life. This is just at the planning stage with fieldwork set to start next year. 

The last aquatic ecological risk assessment at the Tulsequah Chief mine was done by the Ministry of Environment and Climate Change Strategy in 2016, after it found that an earlier report by Chieftain Metals was insufficient. The ministry couldn’t complete the assessment due to challenging weather conditions but found that contaminants in the water near the mine were at levels that pose high risks to fish and other aquatic life. 

The government will also be assessing the existing water treatment plant to determine if it could be rehabilitated. Chieftain operated the plant for less than a year in 2012 before shutting it down, citing high operational costs and technical difficulties. This work will be done remotely. 

One million litres of contaminated water flows into the Tulsequah River every day

While preliminary work slowly gets underway, an estimated one million litres of contaminated water flows into the Tulsequah River every day, according to a 2016 report commissioned by Rivers Without Borders. 

The water is contaminated due to acid rock drainage, which occurs when rock becomes oxidized and forms sulphuric acid, which leaches heavy metals out of the rock. Acid rock drainage lowers the pH level of the water, making it unsafe for humans and wildlife. The contaminated water includes copper and zinc, among other contaminants, at levels far exceeding safe standards. 

Even just two drops of copper in an Olympic-sized swimming pool is enough to affect a salmon’s ability to smell. “That ability facilitates locating spawning grounds, finding food and mates, and detecting predators,” the report pointed out. 

Zinc is toxic to fish. At the time of the report, zinc levels at the mine site were more than 2,000 times higher than legal standards.

The abandoned Tulsequah Chief mine site is just meters from the Tulsequah River, a tributary of the salmon-rich Taku River. For six decades, B.C. has failed to address acid mine drainage at the mine site. Photo: Colin Arisman / The Narwhal

B.C.’s mining laws in desperate need of overhaul 

Skuce said the problems at the Tulsequah Chief point to deeper issues with mining in the province. She referred to Britannia Mine near Squamish, which cost taxpayers $46 million in reclamation costs and requires a further $3 million every year in perpetuity to monitor and treat water at the site. 

“We need to make the polluter pay,” she said. “Right now there’s a $1.2-billion liability of what it’ll cost to do reclamation. Other jurisdictions like Alaska and Quebec require full mine reclamation bonds within the first three years. And that’s something that B.C. should do.”

Last year, the Environmental Law Centre and more than 30 mining advocacy and legal organizations called on the B.C. government to reform its mining laws. Suggested changes included ensuring companies are held legally liable for cleanup and setting up requirements for long-term independent analysis of water treatment systems. Even if those reforms are implemented, legacies like Tulsequah will remain a direct cost to taxpayers.

“We need to be treating this water at the Tulsequah site forever,” Skuce said. “But it’s remote and hard to get to, with super-challenging weather conditions.” 

Accessing such a remote site for monitoring and treatment is expensive — and that’s not going to change. 

On the Alaska side of the border, the Tulsequah Chief is viewed as a frightening example of what can happen to transboundary watersheds if mines are not properly regulated. With numerous larger mines proposed or under construction along the Alaska border, like the proposed KSM mine, near Stewart, B.C., the potential environmental impacts on fish, wildlife and tourism are staggering.

“[Tulsequah] is this little thing, in my opinion, in the shadows of much more daunting problems,” Weitz said. Her view is that the eventual cleanup of the Tulsequah Chief mine can set an example for other B.C. mines — or serve as a warning.  

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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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Fish and wildlife in Alaska’s major watersheds are threatened by six British Columbia mines close to the Alaska border, according to a new petition that asks U.S. Secretary of Commerce Wilbur Ross to investigate the threat of acid-mine drainage, heavy metals pollution and the possibility of catastrophic dam failure originating in the Canadian province.

The formal petition, organized by a coalition of Alaskan tribal governments and conservation groups, calls for the International Joint Commission to investigate threats from B.C. mines that will continue to hang over the watersheds for centuries after their closure.

“It’s a very urgent issue and it’s important to a lot of people and their families,” Kenta Tsuda of Earthjustice, a signatory of the petition, told DeSmog Canada. “Their communities are at risk.”

B.C. experienced an explosion in mine growth under the former BC Liberal government, which expedited new project approvals under the 2011 jobs program.

The resource-rich corridor straddling the B.C.-Alaska border has been at the epicentre of new mine projects but also bears the legacy of B.C.’s old, abandoned mines, such as the Tulsequah Chief mine, which for decades has leaked acid mine drainage into a tributary of the salmon-rich Taku River.

Guy Archibald of the Southeast Alaska Conservation Council pointed to the lack of enforcement of mining regulations by the B.C. government and the scathing report last year from B.C.’s auditor general that said the Ministry of Environment could not guarantee the safety of any of the mines.

ICYMI: Public Inquiry Formally Requested to Investigate B.C.’s Shoddy Mining Rules

“For 60 years the Tulsequah Chief has been leaking acid mine drainage into a very productive salmon watershed and the B.C. government is doing nothing about this,” Archibald said.

In addition to Tulsequah, the petition names Brucejack mine, which started production earlier this year, Red Chris, Schaft Creek, Galore Creek and Kerr-Sulphurets-Mitchell (KSM), which will be the largest open-pit gold and copper mine in North America.

Ten mines in various stages of development are situated along the B.C./Alaska border and within a transboundary watershed. Source: Salmon Beyond Borders

The new petition — and a previous petition submitted to the Department of the Interior — show that B.C. mines are diminishing the effectiveness of two treaties that protect Pacific salmon, steelhead trout, grizzly bears and woodland caribou, Tsuda said.

“We think the facts that we present in the petition do invoke their duty to investigate,” Tsuda told DeSmog Canada.

The Taku, Stikine and Unuk rivers flow across the Canada-U.S. border from headwaters in B.C.’s Coast Mountains and the wildlife and salmon sustain local communities and support hundreds of Alaskan workers and their families, he said.

The International Joint Commission is the body that administers the 1909 Boundary Waters Treaty, with a mandate to investigate disputes between the two countries.

A provision of the treaty states that “waters flowing across the boundary shall not be polluted on either side to the injury of health or property on the other.”

The group’s petition has been submitted under what is known as the Pelly amendment to the Fishermen’s Protective Act that requires the U.S. Commerce and Interior Departments to investigate when other countries may be harming U.S. conservation treaties.

The amendment emphasizes the need, under international agreements, to protect habitat, but, if all the mines planned for the B.C. side of the border are developed, it will destroy fish habitat, Archibald predicted.

“We are willing to use every tool in the toolbox to enforce this — and the International Joint Commission looks pretty good versus a trade war,” he said.

Fred Olsen Jr., tribal president of the Organized Village of Kasaan and Southeast Alaska Indigenous Transboundary Commission chairman, said in an interview that awareness of threats posed by the B.C. mines is growing among Southeast Alaskans, along with frustration about the lack of action.

“Native people have relied on salmon and caribou from these watersheds for generations and communities continue to do so today. Commercial fishermen from Southeast Alaska also rely on these watersheds, catching tens of millions of dollars worth of salmon from these three river systems annually,” says the coalition news release.

The former provincial government promised the Tulsequah Chief would be cleaned up, but nothing happened and, on the federal front, hopes were high that Prime Minister Justin Trudeau would be sympathetic to environmental concerns, but that has been a disappointment, Olsen said.

“He has a Haida tattoo, but then look at the things he does. Everything you hear is either neutral or in favour of mining,” he said.

Eleven southeast Alaskan tribes have signed the petition and, over the next two months, other tribes will be asked to send letters of support, Olsen said.

ICYMI: Canada’s Environmental Fines are Tiny Compared to the U.S.

Enforcement of mining regulations in Canada needs to be tightened, according to Ugo Lapointe, Canada program coordinator for MiningWatch Canada, but there also needs to be a close look at the inadequate fines levied when there is a spill or an accident, he said.

On both sides of the border there is incredulity at the lack of charges after the Mount Polley disaster three years ago when the mine’s tailings dam failed, spewing millions of cubic metres of toxic waste and sludge into nearby waterways.

Lapointe also pointed to the recent $20,000 fine handed to Coalmont Energy Corp., a company which, in 2013, expelled 60,000 litres of mine waste into a tributary of the Tulameen River in the Okanagan-Similkameen region.

“$20,000 for dumping mining waste into a river is another pitiful environmental fine, showing the weakness of both B.C. and federal environmental laws and the enforcement regime. It is not setting a proper example for the industry as a whole,” Lapointe wrote in an e-mail.

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Generations of John Morris Sr.’s family have fished the Taku River in Southeast Alaska and for decades they have watched acid mine drainage from the abandoned Tulsequah Chief mine in B.C. flow into a tributary of the Taku.

Now, with a new NDP government, running on support from the Green Party and a shared promise of reconciliation with First Nations and a commitment to the principles of the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, Morris is hoping there will finally be some action on the Tulsequah Chief clean-up.

Indigenous and conservation groups in Alaska, who are ready to put pressure on B.C.’s new government, are pointing to a previous statement in the Legislature by Green Leader Andrew Weaver who said the Tulsequah Chief gives B.C. “an environmental black eye.”

“We have worked on this for so many years now, one day it’s going to fall on the right ears,” said Morris, spokesman for the Douglas Indian Association.

The area around the salmon-rich Taku River is sacred to Southeast Alaskan tribes and cleaning up the mess around the Tulsequah Chief is vitally important, especially given growing unease as larger mines open on the B.C. side of the border, according to Morris.

There are 10 advanced mining projects in the northwest corner of British Columbia.

“Hopefully something can be done. As soon as the right people are in the right places (in the new government) there will be some ears we can bend,” he said.

Premier designate John Horgan is expected to announce his new cabinet later this month. In a brief statement emailed to The Province, Jen Holmwood, caucus spokeswoman for the NDP, said cleanup of Tulsequah Chief “is a serious issue we’ll be looking into and have to say more on in the weeks ahead.”

Hopes ran high the mine would be cleaned up after former Liberal energy and mines minister Bill Bennett visited the mine site in 2015 and promised to remedy the situation. However, after leaving Alaska, where he had appeared shocked at the extent of the pollution, Bennett started backtracking and claimed there was no environmental threat.

The small zinc and copper mine has polluted the surrounding area since it was initially shut down in 1957 and a litany of clean-up promises were broken as the mine passed through a series of owners, including two companies that went bankrupt.

In September 2016 Chieftain Metals Corp., the latest owner of the mine, went into receivership, but the receiver, Grant Thornton Ltd., has posted documents on its website showing an unnamed company is interested in buying Chieftain’s stock.

However, groups in Alaska want the mine closed, not sold, especially as, by buying stock rather than the assets, the new company would be able to use Chieftain’s existing permits and would not have to consult with the Taku River Tlingit First Nation.

The Grant Thornton documents say many government permits and licences necessary for the operation “have consent rights” as a condition.

“The purchase and sale of the shares of (Chieftain) may obviate the need for any such assignments and consents,” according to the documents.

Morris is adamant that the Tulsequah Chief is not a viable mine and it’s time to clean it up and close it down for once and for all.

“Two mining companies have gone bankrupt trying to re-open this mine and have left a legacy of toxic acid mine drainage into salmon habitat. B.C.’s assurances of mine clean-up seem hollow with B.C. more interested in re-opening this failed mine, rather than cleaning up its 60-year legacy of pollution,” he said.

Alaskan Hopes Pinned on New BC Gov as Sale Looms for Polluting #Mine #bcpoli https://t.co/0gp9vs8brn

— DeSmog Canada (@DeSmogCanada) July 5, 2017

Chris Zimmer, Rivers Without Borders Alaska campaign director, said the new government needs to take a new look at Tulsequah and repair some of the damage to Alaska/B.C. relations done by previous governments.

“This is a (Christy) Clark/Bennett leftover that the new incoming B.C. government should end,” Zimmer said.

“Trying to re-open the Tulsequah Chief a third time is not a clean-up plan. It is a recipe for another bankruptcy, more pollution and opening up the heart of the Taku to mining and road building,” he said.

Lack of consultation about a new buyer for the mine, despite the signing last year of a Statement of Cooperation between Alaska and B.C., is bringing rumblings of discontent and renewed calls for the two federal governments to become involved in transboundary mining problems.

“If B.C. can’t solve the pollution problem at the relatively small Tulsequah Chief, what can we expect at much larger mines, such as Red Chris and KSM, especially without federal involvement under the Boundary Waters treaty,” asked Frederick Olsen Jr., United Tribal Trans-boundary Mining Work Group chair.

The cooperation agreement is similar to relying on the Neighbourhood Watch program, when police are needed, he said.

The Mount Polley disaster weighs heavily on many Southeast Alaskans who wonder what would happen if there was a similar tailings dam breach on the border, with poison reaching one of the major salmon-bearing rivers.

“It wouldn’t just be the salmon, it would be the whole ecosystem — the bears and wolves and every other creature that depends on this,” Morris said.

“We’re all for economic development, but let’s do it safe.”

Image: Taku River. Photo: Chris Miller via Salmon Beyond Borders

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Alaskans tired of living under the threat of B.C.’s poorly regulated mines are taking the matter to the state’s House Fisheries Committee in an effort to escalate an international response to ongoing issues such as the slow leakage of acidic waste from the deserted Tulsequah Chief Mine in northwest B.C. into the watershed of one of the richest salmon runs in the B.C./Alaska transboundary region.

On Thursday the committee will assess a resolution sponsored by several House Representatives “urging the United States government to continue to work with the government of Canada to investigate the long-term, region-wide downstream effects of proposed and existing industrial development and to develop measures to ensure that state resources are not harmed by upstream development in B.C.”

Although Tulsequah is a catalyst, concerns go deeper as B.C. is handing out permits for a clutch of proposed new mines close to the Alaskan border, including the KSM mine, the largest open-pit gold and copper mine in North America.

Chris Zimmer, Rivers Without Borders Alaska campaign director, said Alaskans are troubled by B.C.’s lack of enforcement of mining regulations — underlined by the Mount Polley tailings dam collapse and its $40 million taxpayer funded cleanup — and the alarming practice of accepting bonds from companies that do not cover reclamation costs.

“If B.C. can’t ensure that the Tulsequah Chief is cleaned up, why should Alaskans have any trust that much larger mines like KSM won’t pollute our waters?” Zimmer asked.

‘B.C. Can’t Continue Saying it is World Class’ in Mining

A brief spark of hope that B.C. would act on Tulsequah flared after Energy and Mines Minister Bill Bennett visited Southeast Alaska in 2015 and was, reportedly, shocked by leakage from abandoned mine works and sludge ponds.

“I think B.C. is going to have to find a way to rectify it sooner rather than later and I think it is a most legitimate criticism of us by those folks in Alaska that don’t like it,” Bennett said at that time.

Since Bennett’s 2015 visit, B.C. government contractors have moved the pipe, so water runs into a containment pond before overflowing into the river, and cleaned up leaking fuel tanks and improperly stored chemicals, Zimmer said.

However, last fall, Chieftain Metals Corp., the latest owners of the mine, declared bankruptcy after running a water treatment plant for only six months and Bennett then appeared to backtrack on the promise of a full-scale clean up.

Bennett, who is not running in the May provincial election, did not return calls or emails from DeSmog Canada.

No provincial money has been publicly earmarked for the Tulsequah clean up, which David Chambers of the Center for Science in Public Participation estimates would cost about $3.8 million in Canadian dollars.

Total annual water treatment costs, which would have to be continued in perpetuity, would be about $3.4-million, according to Chambers’ study.

“And that’s just one tiny little mine,” Zimmer said.

Even if a new company takes over, there is no assurance it will clean up Tulsequah because, unlike Alaska, which estimates a realistic reclamation figure and then demands full payment up front, B.C. has no such guarantees, Zimmer said.

“The polluter-pay principle doesn’t work if the polluter goes bust.”

But in B.C. there is no assurance that the polluter will pay even if the company does not go bust, said Heather Hardcastle of Juneau-based Salmon Beyond Borders.

“The notion that reclamation sureties are not adequately assessed in B.C and companies don’t have to put up full reclamation sureties up front, as they have to do in Alaska and many other countries in the world, means B.C. can’t continue saying it is world class in terms of their mining sector,” she said.

Alaska sets the amount of the bond as part of the environmental assessment process, with public input, meaning that the bond is usually a realistic calculation of the cost of reclamation. The state then demands cash or bonds up front before the project can proceed.

In contrast, in B.C. the Chief Inspector of Mines has complete discretion in setting the amount of the bond, meaning it is not a transparent process. The figure is generally set much lower than in Alaska and the entire amount does not have to be paid up front.

B.C., unlike Alaska, will also accept guarantees, rather than insisting on cash or bonds.

Compared to Alaska B.C.’s Mines Represent Massive Taxpayer Liability

A glaring example of the differences is illustrated in a brief that independent economist Robyn Allan is presenting to the Alaska State Legislature.

Teck Resources Ltd. operates the Red Dog Mine in Alaska, which is expected to require water treatment in perpetuity, a cost that has been included in the reclamation estimate of $558-million.

Teck has fully funded its liability obligation at Red Dog by posting a bond of $558-million with the State, said Allan, a former ICBC president and senior economist for B.C. Central Credit Union.

Just across the border in B.C., Teck, the largest mining company in the province, is responsible for 13 mines — six operating and seven closed — and the province has estimated reclamation liability at $1.4-billion, but has required only $510-million in bonding, according to Allan’s brief.

“The $1.4-billion reclamation estimate excludes significant requirements for ongoing water treatment, such as those at Teck’s coal mining sites in the Elk Valley. Teck’s in perpetuity liabilities are likely underestimated by hundreds of millions of dollars,” she said.

Teck Resources is the largest donor to the B.C. Liberals, contributing $1,502,444 to the party since 2008.

Since 2010, Norman Keevil, Teck board chair, has personally donated $65,585 and DeSmog Canada revealed last month that political donations to the Liberals made under the name of a Teck Resources lobbyist were actually made by the company and were registered in error.

B.C.’s Mining Sector ‘Dysfunctional’

Allan, in her brief, says environmental assessment, monitoring and compliance of B.C.’s mining sector is dysfunctional.

“It places the environment and the public on both sides of the Canadian and U.S. borders at serious long-term risk,” she wrote.

A recent report by the University of Victoria’s Environmental Law Centre found B.C.’s mining rules have created a profound crisis of public confidence and should be investigated through a Commission of Public Inquiry.

“Mine reclamation liabilities in B.C. are underestimated and most mine operators are not required to provide full funding for the reclamation obligations that are estimated,” she said.

If B.C. adopted the Alaskan model of reclamation estimation and bonding, it would result in a more comprehensive and robust approach, according to Allan, who added in her brief that such changes could be made through policy adjustments rather than legislation.

Neither Alaska nor B.C. have an industry-funded pool for cleaning up accidental environmental damage or for paying compensation to those affected by mining accidents and companies are not required to have adequate insurance to cover accidents.

That begs the question why the mining industry is treated differently from other high-risk industries such as oil and gas, said Hardcastle, who believes the cross-border problem should be referred to the International Joint Commission, which operates under the 1909 Boundary Waters Treaty.

Allan agrees that both federal governments need to work together to develop measures to ensure mines do not affect downstream resources and that there should be an industry-funded pool for reclamation costs and compensation not met by mine operators following an unintended environmental accident.

However, there first needs to be accurate and transparent reclamation cost estimates and full security posted before a permit is issued, she said in her brief.

“Regrettably, the province of B.C. does not intend to enhance the requirements of its subpar system despite recommendations in recent reports released by the B.C. Auditor General and the Union of B.C. Indian Chiefs,” she wrote.

B.C. should also look at recent reforms Quebec made to its financial requirements for the mining sector, recommended Ugo Lapointe, Mining Watch Canada program coordinator.

Quebec requires 100 per cent financial assurance, with 50 per cent payable before the mine opens and 50 per cent in the first two years of operation, making it the strictest system in Canada, Lapointe said.

In contrast, B.C. remains one of the most problematic mining jurisdictions in the country, he said.

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Acid mine drainage from the Tulsequah Chief mine in northwest B.C. has worried and infuriated Southeast Alaskans for almost six decades and concerns have again peaked with a new analysis that claims a study of runoff — that found the drainage would not affect fish — was flawed.

The mine, situated beside the Tulsequah River, the largest tributary to the Taku, one of Alaska’s premium salmon rivers, was closed by Cominco in 1957 without reclamation or clean-up of acid mine drainage.

The mine was bought by Redfern Corp. but numerous government warnings and reclamation orders were ignored and Redfern filed for bankruptcy in 2009. The mine was then bought in 2010 by Toronto-based Chieftain Metals Inc., which accepted environmental liabilities as part of the purchase price.

Hopes that the drainage problems would be addressed were short-lived and an interim water treatment plant that operated for only six months was closed in June 2012 because of costs and technical issues.

The only consolation for those worried about the effect of toxic runoff on salmon, was a study, ordered by the province and conducted for Chieftain in 2013, that concluded that, although significant levels of copper and zinc were found downstream from the mine, the drainage posed a low risk to fish in the Tulsequah River and that the discharge did not affect the Taku River as Tulsequah water was diluted by a factor of six when mixed with Taku waters.

“Chieftain Metals is of the opinion that the extent of aquatic environmental risk is very low for the majority of the year and low to moderate during the winter and spring thaw,” Chieftain Metals CEO Victor Wyprysky wrote in a 2013 letter to the provincial Ministry of Environment.

However, that study is now being questioned by a new analysis, conducted for Rivers Without Borders, that has found problems with the way information was collected.

“Consequently, the conclusion of low risk to aquatic life from Tulsequah Chief mine acid mine drainage is unreliable,” says the report by fisheries biologist Sarah O’Neal.

Chris Zimmer of Rivers Without Borders, one of the many Alaskan organizations, tribes and politicians that have been watching the recent proliferation of B.C. mines close to the Alaskan border with trepidation, said the Chieftain study is fundamentally flawed and cannot be used to delay clean-up of the polluting mine any longer.

In a question-and-answer interview with the Juneau Empire, Bennett said: “I said I’m going to try to fix it, so I’m going to try to fix it. It’s a horribly difficult and complex issue for B.C., because the scientists on both sides of the border say there isn’t any environmental harm from what’s going into the Tulsequah River. We have limited resources.”

DeSmog Canada received no response to numerous phone calls and emails to both the B.C. Ministry of Energy and Mines and Chieftain Metals.

In November, B.C. and Alaska signed a memorandum of understanding to strengthen cross-border consultation on major mine developments and to develop a joint water monitoring program for transboundary waters.

The Tulsequah Chief should be one of the first issues addressed and, as it seems unlikely that Chieftain has the wherewithal or financial resources to clear up the problem, it is up to B.C. and the Canadian federal government to step in, especially as questions are again being raised about damage from the runoff, Zimmer said.

“It’s time to seal up this festering sore. If Chieftain can’t do it, then B.C. needs to step up. Alaskans concerned about B.C. mining across the transboundary region see the Tulsequah Chief as a test case of how B.C. will deal with other mines,” Zimmer said.

“So far, B.C. is failing the test and Alaskans have real reason for worry. If B.C. can’t deal with this relatively small mine, how will it deal with massive mines like KSM?”

“Chieftain and B.C. have both a legal and moral responsibility to clean this up,” Zimmer said, pointing to Energy and Mines Minister Bill Bennett who, while he was visiting Alaska last year, initially pledged to clean up the mess and then backtracked, pointing to the Chieftain study.

The KSM mine, about 35 kilometres from the Alaska border, which will tap into one of the largest gold and copper deposits in the world, is one of about 10 mines close to the Alaska/B.C. transboundary region in various stages of applications, planning and development.

This week a delegation of tribal leaders, commercial fishing groups and conservation organizations from Alaska was in Ottawa looking for help from federal politicians in giving Alaska a bigger say in mine development in shared waters.

The group, who will also meet with Bruce Heyman, U.S. ambassador to Canada, wants the issue referred to the International Joint Commission, which was created under the 1909 Boundary Waters Treaty, to deal with disputes in shared waters.

“We wanted to get our request in the radar before Prime Minister Trudeau and President Obama meet here in Ottawa later this month as part of the North American summit,” Heather Hardcastle, from Salmon Beyond Borders, told DeSmog Canada.

Currently Alaska, as the downstream neighbour, takes all the risks associated with mines in B.C., she said.

“It is increasingly clear that it will take our two countries working together to decide how to manage our globally significant share of this iconic region,” Hardcastle added.

Years of trying to get the B.C. government to address concerns have produced nothing but nice words and vague promises, said Frederick Otilius Olsen Jr., chairman of the United Tribal Transboundary Mining Work Group, representing 15 Southeast Alaska Tribes.

“We seem to be getting nowhere,” Olsen, a member of the delegation to Ottawa, said.

“Facts, reports and studies keep emerging — the latest from B.C.’s Auditor General — that indicate the situation is even worse than we feared. We need federal help and an international solution to this international problem.”

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Promises of a closer relationship between B.C. and Alaska and more consultation on B.C. mine applications are a good start, but, so far, Southeast Alaska has no more guarantees that those mines will not pollute salmon-bearing rivers than before this week’s visit by B.C.’s Energy and Mines Minister Bill Bennett, say Alaskan fishing and conservation groups.

Bennett, accompanied by senior civil servants from the ministries of Energy and Mines and Environment, took a conciliatory tone as he met with state officials, policy-makers and critics of what is seen as an aggressive push by B.C. to develop mines in the transboundary area, close to vitally important salmon rivers such as the Unuk, Taku and Stikine.

“I understand why people feel so strongly about protecting what they have,” Bennett said in a Juneau news conference with Alaska Lt. Governor Byron Mallott.

“There’s a way of life here that has tremendous value and the people here don’t want to lose it. I get that,” he said.

But promises of a strengthened dialogue and more opportunities to comment on mine applications fall far short of a growing chorus of Alaskan demands that the issue be referred to the International Joint Commission, formed under the Boundary Waters Treaty, which forbids either country from polluting transboundary waters.

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It was a step forward to have such a high-level meeting, said Chris Zimmer of Rivers Without Borders, but it is an international issue that demands international attention.

“Increased involvement in the B.C permitting process is not a bad thing, but it is not a solution on its own. In other words, we stand firm for the need of an international solution under the Boundary Waters Treaty,” Zimmer said.

Both sides agreed the status quo cannot continue, but the question is how to move forward, Zimmer said.

“How do we move from words to real, concrete action to protect Alaska’s interests?”

Bennett did not rule out the possibility of going to the International Joint Commission, but felt it was premature and the commission should be brought in only if the province and state could not work it out between themselves, said Heather Hardcastle of Salmon Beyond Borders, a coalition of fishing, tribal, tourism and community organizations.

There was also no agreement on the question of how Alaskans would be compensated if there was an upstream spill.

“We are saying we are taking on the lion’s share of the risk and we are not receiving the benefits and there is nothing in place right now, Minister Bennett told us, to deal with liability,” Hardcastle said at a news conference following a meeting with Bennett.

“That’s just unacceptable to us that there’s nothing to compensate us for the lack of our livelihood.”

Financial assurances that Alaskans would be compensated if B.C. mining damages fisheries and water quality are needed prior to projects receiving permits, Hardcastle said.

Dale Kelley, Alaska Trollers Association executive director, said the universal theme was how to ensure no harm befalls Alaska’s fisheries.

“It was quite disturbing to hear the minister say there really is no remedy,” she said.

Both federal governments need to be involved in compensation discussions as a spill would mean a disaster on a scale that could not be handled by the state and provincial governments, Kelley said.

During the visit, Bennett agreed that B.C. should fix leakage from the Tulsequah Chief Mine, that, through a tributary, flows into the Taku River.

Decades of failed promises to fix the leakage have been a thorn in the side of many Alaskans, even though it is not known whether the mine drainage is hurting fish.

After touring the Taku River by helicopter Monday, Bennett told reporters it should be fixed.

“I think B.C is going to have to find a way to rectify it sooner than later and I think it is a most legitimate criticism of us by those folks in Alaska who don’t like it,” he said.

The Tulsequah Chief, now owned by Chieftain Metals Corp, was closed by Cominco in 1957 without acid mine drainage cleanup or site reclamation and despite numerous B.C orders, subsequent owners failed to clean up the mess. The mine was bought by Chieftain in 2010 when the company accepted the environmental liabilities and installed an interim water treatment plant.

“It’s clearly a black eye for Canada,” Zimmer said.

Solutions now, if Chieftain does not reopen the mine and get a grip on the drainage problems, are for B.C. to close down the mine properly — something likely to cost multi-millions of dollars — or to spend $4-million a year to treat the waste in perpetuity, Zimmer said.

“We are looking for very specific action to back these words up.”

Photo: Minister of Energy and Mines Bill Bennett. Credit: Province of British Columbia.

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