Day Seven: The Atchafalaya Basin

A Tourniquet to the Tributaries: Ecological Destruction in the Atchafalaya Basin 

Having arrived here the previous night in the dark, stepping into the morning outside felt like being transplanted into a different country. Immediately I was hot in the bright morning sunlight, immersed in the cacophony of insects buzzing in the bayou where we stayed, in Butte La Rose, Louisiana. Feeling as though I were in a foreign place, I saw this as a testament to the diversity of environment and culture breadth within the United States. 

Culture shock arrived early in the morning, when half the group set out for a morning run. Within ten minutes we came upon a member of the neighborhood, deeply distraught, with a fire in her trailer. Our group promptly called 911, but felt helpless as the white billowing smoke grew, and the flames jumped a little higher. It was difficult to watch, feeling helpless, but knowing that the safest course of action was to keep distance from the flames, especially noting the white propane tanks fueling the trailer. Knowing that she mentioned the fire was electrical, it prompted some personal, internal dilemma as we yelled to a neighbor bringing a garden hose, that doing so was dangerous. In the moment, it was a slurry of feelings, wishing to help, recognizing the importance of safety, and all the while balancing biases, judgements, perceptions, privilege, positionality, and our new experience in a new environment. It would be false to say I was immune to any tough thoughts and preconceived notions about the area I stood in, having passed a neighboring residence several homes down, flying multiple Confederate flags. As fire trucks rolled in, and the first action the firemen took was to shut off power at the electrical box, it brought many feelings for reflection. On one hand I wish knew how to better react in such a situation to be able to provide tangible help, and on another hand recognizing my role as a bystander and a visitor to this community. As the authorities had the situation under control, we continued our run along the levee, in deep thought. 

Our afternoon centered around a swamp tour by Dean Wilson, executive director of Atchafalaya Basinkeeper. In a rapid change of pace from our previous days of meetings, we sped out by powerboat into the Atchafalaya River, our hair blowing as we entered the swamp—a flooded forest environment. We marveled at the wonderful feeling speeding along the water’s surface, flying while floating. Having never personally experienced a swamp, but growing up surrounded by forest in Vermont, it was a surreal experience to observe the rise and fall of water against the tree trunks from our wake as we entered a grove off the main river way. Poised, standing and holding fast alongside a trunk to keep us steady, Dean introduced us to the ecology of the Atchafalaya Basin and the crucial work he conducts to preserve it. 

 

In the sunshine we learned about the hollowed tree trunks of Cypress trees serving as home for an array of wildlife including otters, minks, snakes, and more as ‘small cities’ among their water world when flooded. It was fascinating to understand the grandeur of the Cypress and its ability to live for thousands of years; at least one tree has been estimated to be 3,500 years old. As such, they are susceptible to lightning strikes over time, where a boiling of the inner sap and fire may hollow out the tree, and create the space for a faunal environment among the water, but continuing to grow. We were incredibly fortunate to be outside and in fresh air, seeing these trees draped in Spanish moss with a backdrop of Louisiana blue sky. 

It was a sobering experience to learn the changes of the past several years. While usually experiencing a High and Low water period, the draining is necessary for the environment and 

allows for movement by larger ground animals including deer, rabbits, coyotes, and the endangered Louisiana Black Bear and Florida Panther. With our changing climate, the February-to-July high water period is no longer predictable—for example, in one recent year the water went down in the middle of the High water period, in May, an absolutely unexpected change with severe ecological impact. 

As we toured more areas of the river swamp, we explored both the natural waterways as well as man-made Oil Canals. We learned how the majority of these have been built in manners not compliant with regulations, often without permit, and without proper remediation efforts taken such as filling back in dredged materials, instead leaving behind ‘spoils’ which are piles of dirt that inhibit the natural flow of water. Oil pipelines run East to West—delivering ‘Sour Crude Oil’ to be refined in Louisiana—disrupting the natural North to South flow of water. Unfortunately, while waters are a public trust in the United States, Louisiana is the only state that has sold the water bottoms, through Water Bottom Claimants, allowing drilling to occur in the swamp. 

We touched on the issue of logging Cypress Trees, including the creation of ‘Pull-Boat Roads’ for their transport, which also disrupted natural water flow. Old growth bald Cypress have been desirable for their rot-resistant properties, and have been sought as building materials. They have been used in the creation of Cypress Mulch, and recently have been targeted for use as wood pellets. This brought us to reflect on the complexity of our energy situation as a country and in the world, as wood pellets enter the realm of ‘renewables.’ Dean shared about a foreign company, one which was initially interested in wood pellets, to arrive from Europe and see these old-growth trees as a ‘treasure to humanity’ and subsequently act instead to protect them. No such action has been true for American companies. The Mississippi River brings sediments of sand and silt through tributaries, to the gulf. Our actions are akin to putting a tourniquet on the tributaries delivering these to the coast, stopping the natural process of allowing the deltas to grow, shift direction, and change across time. Directly done through the work of mankind—according to Dean—we have destroyed ~¾ of the total swamp area, by action of the Army Corps of Engineers and the Oil Companies. 

 

One of our group members asked a question about the meaning of the area being designated as a National Heritage Area. This was answered with a sobering “Nothing.” On the subject of ‘truth’ Dean had a powerful view that truth does not exist, but rather “it is the perception of the truth you create.” This brought many of us to wonder; how might we challenge our own thoughts, biases, understandings, and perceptions of the ‘truth’ which maybe lay in our personal experience of the world today?  In addition to the lessons in ecology, Dean Wilson shared about the extensive work he conducts fighting to protect this area. He has performed work on the front lines such as confronting retailers carrying illegally harvested Cypress mulch products, ultimately bringing Walmart, Lowes, and The Home Depot to stop carrying Louisiana Cypress mulch. Through lawsuits, Dean has spearheaded efforts to hold oil companies accountable for their actions by targeting the permits given to expand the oil pipeline corridor, such as with the Bayou Bridge Pipeline whereby companies have hurried projects along by conducting criminal trespassing against landowners’ permission, to build and finish opposed sections of the pipeline before court injunction could be taken. Because he tackles big industry head-on, in pragmatic ways that have worked, he has received violence and death threats. Yet, we observed his unrelenting strength as a guardian to the swamp, even in the smallest of acts, when he slowed our boat to pick up a lone, floating plastic bottle. 

Both Captain Wilson and the Cypress trees brought inspiration into the resiliency of the Atchafalaya Basin. Although human action has pushed the Cypress to the margins, we witnessed some of their grandeur hanging on. In one grove we saw five individual trees, fused together as one, growing with each other. Their broad roots provide support to protect from hurricane force winds, across the ages, and they are resilient to extreme events such as lightning strikes. While the challenges our society faces are immense, it is with both a determination and resilience in the spirit of Dean and the Cypress that we might carry hope in our ability to change the course of our future.

--Max Saylor '19