There’s a terrible irony to the timing of the Mount Polley tailings pond spill.
On Aug. 4, a holiday meant to celebrate beautiful B.C., the province experienced what will undoubtedly be among its biggest environmental crises of modern times.
The breach of an earthen dam, at one end of a four-kilometre-wide tailings pond at the Mount Polley open-pit copper and gold mine, led to the release of 10 million cubic metres of water and 4.5 million cubic metres of fine sand — the equivalent of 2,000 Olympic-sized swimming pools — into Polley Lake near Likely.
The slurry carried felled trees, mud, debris and possibly toxic elements and minerals, scouring the banks of Hazeltine Creek before washing into Quesnel Lake.
In the days since, investigation and cleanup have commenced, along with a good measure of political bickering and finger pointing.
On Friday, government water and fish tests revealed that while metal levels are within the guidelines for human consumption in most areas, acute copper and iron guidelines for aquatic life were “significantly exceeded” at some depths of Quesnel Lake, while fish tissue showed elevated levels of selenium — above guidelines for human consumption — in the liver and gonads.
A “Do Not Use” order for water in the impact zone involving Polley Lake, Hazeltine Creek and a small part of Quesnel Lake remains in place, while fish consumption is considered safe, according to Interior Health, which vowed to continue long-term monitoring.
As the new reality of life near the Mount Polley Mine set in, The Province set out to talk to those most impacted by the spill — the ordinary people who call the area home. We plan to check back with them over the course of the year to see how their perspective changes as the situation unfolds.
DARLENE BIGGS
A 5 a.m. phone call brought the bad news to Darlene Biggs.
Stepping outside, she could hear the roar caused by millions of cubic metres of water and waste rushing from the tailings pond at the Mount Polley copper and gold mine.
Biggs spent the morning concerned about her family.
“My brother works at the mine,” she said.
As logs and debris rushed from the site of the breach, she also worried that the Likely Bridge would wash out, putting her sister’s home at risk. “It was very tense.”
Three weeks later, many of Biggs’ immediate fears have subsided — no one was injured by the tailings pond breach and the bridge still stands — but she now has new concerns.
Twenty-five years ago, Biggs and her husband built the High Country Inn overlooking Quesnel Lake. The inn’s 12 units are often filled with work crews employed in the area’s resource industries.
For now, the workers continue to come, but Biggs doesn’t know what the future will hold. If the mine closes, she’ll take a huge financial hit.
“I’d really love to see (the mine) reopen,” she said. “The community needs the employment.”
But exactly how the situation will unfold over the next few months is anyone’s guess.
And everyone is guessing.
“The rumours are running wild,” said Biggs. “At this point, no one really knows who to trust and what’s going on.”
Biggs would like to see people focus on the cleanup — “let’s get that stuff out of the lake,” she said — while working to reopen the mine.
“It’s too late to be negative,” she said. “We all wish it hadn’t happened … Now let’s get to work.”
E. SCOTT BORNEMAN
The Mount Polley Mine is a strange place these days.
Scott Borneman usually works in the mine’s assay lab, testing the copper and gold content of various samples. Now, with many of the mine’s mill operators laid off, he finds himself filling in here and there, manning security checkpoints and telephones.
On his days off, he’s taken another job: Setting the record straight.
“There are so many misconceptions out there, I almost can’t help myself,” he said.
Through social media, he takes issue with those who say not enough is being done to clean up the spill, arguing that it is a long and complicated process fraught with safety concerns.
He also believes the government has been transparent by releasing water test results done by independent companies.
“I’m not trying to downplay what happened,” he said, “but the idea that there is some kind of coverup happening is crazy. The people who work here also live here. We have no evil plans to poison the environment.”
Like many mine employees, Borneman works 12-hour shifts, seven days in a row. (He then has seven days off.)
On work days, he gets up at 4 a.m. to catch a bus from Williams Lake to the mine. He gets home again at 8:15 p.m.
He worries the general public doesn’t understand the big picture.
“I’m most worried about the black eye this has given the mining industry,” he said.
Much of B.C.’s prosperity is based on its successful resource sector, he explained. It’s one thing to protest mining, but it’s quite another to give up the cars, computers and cellphones that exist as a result of resource extraction.
“If there wasn’t a demand, there would be no need for the mine,” said Borneman. “Looking for someone to blame is natural. We’d be better served by pointing the finger in the mirror.”
RICHARD HOLMES
Now and then, fisheries biologist and longtime Likely resident Richard Holmes likes to do a little fishing.
“Just catch and release, of course,” he said.
His fishing days came to an end on Aug. 4. “The fish are under enough stress now.”
A few days after the tailings pond breach at the Mount Polley Mine, Holmes had a chance to view the situation from the sky.
On Thursday, he toured the mine site.
“It’s shocking to be up there,” he said. “The cleanup ahead is daunting.”
The biologist is just one of many people with different interests observing the Mount Polley situation.
“This is a national issue,” said Holmes. “Canada has been developing mines everywhere. People around the globe are watching what we do when this happens in our own backyard.”
The one-time Fisheries and Oceans Canada biologist runs his own consulting firm called Cariboo Envirotech. He is currently advising the Soda Creek Indian Band.
“First Nations want this mess cleaned up,” said Holmes. “I agree. I don’t think any other approach is acceptable.”
Holmes remains concerned about the future impact of heavy metals that may have been released from the tailings pond. While fish stocks may not immediately suffer, the metals can accumulate in small fish over time, working their way up the food chain.
“We don’t know the full implications of this yet.”
SKEED AND SHARON BORKOWSKI
On August 3, Skeed and Sharon Borkowski were contemplating retirement. By the next morning, everything had changed.
After 18 years operating Northern Lights Lodge, the couple was in the middle of what they thought would be their last summer at the fly-fishing resort on Quesnel Lake’s pristine shores.
They’d sent an email to loyal customers, advertising their final season. They had 42 bookings in nine days.
They’d also listed their property — a beautiful 2,500-square-foot lodge and several cabins spaced along 2,000 feet of waterfront — and their realtor was having success marketing it to his European clientele.
“Then this happened,” said Skeed Borkowski, referring to the tailings pond breach at the Mount Polley Mine. “And life changed.”
The disaster has eliminated the Borkowskis’ fly-fishing business and driven down the value of their property. The couple worries that Quesnel Lake, the world’s deepest freshwater fiord lake, will long be associated with the spill, driving fly fishers to other waters.
At first they were angry, and like many, looked for someone to blame. But that’s since given way to sadness.
Borkowski feels bad for the Mount Polley employees, many with young families and mortgages to pay. He realizes financial uncertainty will be hard on relationships. He’s worried divisions will arise in his community.
“Mount Polley has been open for discussion on how they can help to remedy this — but I’m not quite sure what that means,” he said.
He hopes the right people will be held accountable, and he’s sure that if the mine reopens it will be the safest in the world — “it should never be considered too safe.”
But he’s not sure where that leaves him.
“This is our life. This is everything we worked for over 45 years … It’s all our marbles in one basket.”
“Let’s talk in four years.”
MICHAEL LEBOURDAIS
Whispering Pines/Clinton Indian Band Chief Michael LeBourdais believes it will take time to realize the full impact of the Mount Polley tailings pond spill.
“I don’t trust the cleanup,” he said. “The mine’s first interest is the economy, not the environment, and certainly not First Nations people.”
A few days after the spill, LeBourdais made headlines for tweeting a picture of a salmon with its skin peeling off. The fish was caught by his nephew on the Fraser River.
“We’ve been fishing our whole lives and never seen anything like that before,” he said. “It’s a hell of a coincidence to find it now.”
Two First Nations communities close to the mine have advised their members not to catch or eat fish from the lake until independent water studies have been conducted.
Last week, the government signed a letter of understanding with Soda Creek and William Lake bands to work together to oversee the cleanup.
But LeBourdais accused the government of being “dismissive” of environmental concerns and vowed to continue to monitor the situation.
“We’re not going to forget this.”
