Connecticut River Conservancy

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CONNECTICUT RIVER DEADBEAT DEFENSE: endangered species habitat orphaned–again

Posted by on 29 Mar 2021 | Tagged as: Connecticut River Atlantic Salmon Commission, Connecticut River Conservancy, Connecticut River shortnose sturgeon, Connecticut River Watershed Council, endangerd shortnose sturgeon, Endangered Species Act, Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, FirstLight Power Resources, Julie Crocker, National Marine Fisheries Service, NMFS, NOAA, Nolumbeka, shortnose sturgeon, Silvio O. Conte Connecticut River National Fish and Wildlife Refuge, Turners Falls power canal, Uncategorized, US Environmental Protection Agency, water lab

Photo Copyright © 2021 by Karl Meyer

This is the Rock Dam pool in the Connecticut River at Montague MA on March 10, 2021–just a month from the date male Connecticut River shortnose sturgeon will begin arriving here at the only documented natural spawning habitat for this federal- and state- endangered migrant in this ecosystem. The Rock Dam has been bathed in a grim red soup leaching out of the failing riverbanks adjacent to the Turners Falls power canal–just 400 feet distant, throughout the fall and winter. The riverbanks continue to crumble and ooze into this cobble lined pool today.

What is contained in the red sludge oozing from the crumbling banks besides the long-known iron and manganese? Is it harmful to developing early life stage sturgeon? What is its source, with the diverted Connecticut’s flow looming just above and 400 feet away–as pulses of its current are run through the Turners Falls power canal? Is it actually the Connecticut River trying to return to its own natural riverbed? Is the canal dike failing? Who is responsible for stopping the riverbank failures here–for enforcing the Endangered Species Act, Clean Water Act, to name just a few–at the Commonwealth and at the federal levels??

And, where oh where can you find a river watchdog with a legal team, an enforcement mandate, and an injunction weeks before these endangered fish return? Certainly not on the Connecticut River.

Clean water. Healthy habitat. Thriving communities. That is the banner slogan of the Connecticut River Watershed Council, recently renamed the Connecticut River Conservancy. Here is a month old statement from that outfit: “We’re not going to test it,” Andrew Fisk, Director, Connecticut River Conservancy. Fisk, who has a water quality testing lab at his Greenfield office, also sits at the head of the Connecticut River Atlantic Salmon Commission. The CRC also sits on the CT River Streambank Erosion Committee, and sponsors cultural programming that would beg an investigation and the preservation of the failing banks at this ancient fishing site.


March 10, 2021. Looking up the Connecticut River’s grim failing riveranks on FirstLight Power-owned property at the Rock Dam site in Cabot Woods, adjacent to the TF power Canal.Photo Copyright © 2021 by Karl Meyer

NATIONAL MARINE FISHERIES SERVICE out of Gloucester MA, under the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration, has lead responsibility for the Connecticut River shortnose sturgeon. Shortnose sturgeon fall under their Office of Protected Resources. Though their representatives including Kimberly Damon-Randall, Julie Crocker, and and Michael Pentony have attended some of the bi-annual federal-state meetings here on the Connecticut, NMFS has sat mum and on its hands, as the critical habitat continues failing for the shortnose sturgeon at Rock Dam. No investigation, no protection, no worries.

TEXT IMMEDIATELY BELOW IS FROM THE NOAA/NMFS website:

“NOAA Fisheries and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service share responsibility for implementing the ESA. NOAA Fisheries is responsible for endangered and threatened marine and anadromous species—from whales and seals to sharks, salmon, and corals.

Under the ESA, the federal government has the responsibility to protect:
Endangered species—species that are in danger of extinction throughout all or a significant portion of their range.
Threatened species—species that are likely to become endangered in the foreseeable future.
Critical habitat—specific areas that are:

Within the geographical area occupied by the species at the time of listing, if they contain physical or biological features essential to conservation, and those features may require special management considerations or protection.”


March 11, 2021. Here, a woman stands in the a compact-car size sink hole along with disappearing hemlock saplings on the Connecticut River bank that’s slumping into Rock Dam spawning habitat.Photo Copyright © 2021 by Karl Meyer


Here that same woman stands looking directly up at that sink hole from below on the Connecticut River bank. She’s seen atop further, newer slumping sludge now heading into the river and Rock Dam spawning habitat on March 11, 2021.Photo Copyright © 2021 by Karl Meyer

Photo Copyright © 2021 by Karl Meyer

And these following three pictures, all from March 28,2021–less than two weeks before the first shortnose sturgeon arrive here, show the grim and burgeoning sludge and intrusions into critical Connecticut River spawning habitat at the Rock Dam. The main stem river in all photos is to the left.

Riverbank and species protection here, both federal and state, falls under the current Federal Energy Regulatory Commission license to operate facilities on the Connecticut River.

How can so many institutions fail so miserably at protecting the public’s river?


Connecticut River at Rock Dam, March 28,2021Photo Copyright © 2021 by Karl Meyer


Sludge running into the Connecticut River at Rock Dam, March 28, 2021.Photo Copyright © 2021 by Karl Meyer

Of Book Bans, Journalism and Shortnose Stout

Posted by on 06 Mar 2021 | Tagged as: Alden Booth, Andrew Fisk, Barnaby Watten, Bob Flaherty, Clean Water Act, Congressman John Olver, Connecticut River, Connecticut River Conservancy, Connecticut River shortnose sturgeon, critical habitat, Dr. Boyd Kynard, Endangered Species Act, Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, federally-endangered Connecticut River shortnose sturgeion, FERC, FirstLight Power, Fish and Aquatics Study Team, journalism, MA Division of Fish and Wildlife, Monte Belmonte, National Marine Fisheries Service, National Marine Fisheries Service, Northfield Mountain Pumped Storage Project, Rock Dam, Rock Dam Pool, Shortnose Stout, Silvio O. Conte Connecticut River National Fish and Wildlife Refuge, The People's Pint, Turners Falls dam, Turners Falls power canal, Uncategorized, US Fish & Wildlife Service, US Geological Survey's Conte Fish Lab, WHMP, WRSI

Of Book Bans, Journalism and Shortnose Stout: a brief history of science, censorship and the short, noble life of a beer created to help stop corporate abuse on the Connecticut River Copyright © 2021 by Karl Meyer

(NOTE: for a WHMP podcast with Host Bob Flaherty related to this story go here: https://whmp.com/morning-news/sturgeon-stout-has-come-gone-but-the-harm-to-the-sturgeons-spawning-ground-continues/ )

A red slurry enters the Connecticut at the Rock Dam

Nearly a decade back retired federal fisheries biologist Dr. Boyd Kynard was putting the finishing touches on a book entitled Life History and Behaviour of Connecticut River Shortnose and Other Sturgeons. It was a compilation of sturgeon research conducted by federal biologists and university researchers—largely based locally on the Connecticut River shortnose sturgeon. Its findings described the shortnose sturgeon’s life history and habitat needs on the river from below Holyoke Dam, all the way to a spawning site known as the Rock Dam. The ancient Rock Dam site is just a few hundred yards from the USGS Conte Lab in Turners Falls where Kynard had spent a chunk of his career.

The sturgeon book authored by Kynard et al

Just as Kynard’s book was going to print in Germany, published by the World Sturgeon Conservation Society, Boyd Kynard and Harold Rosenthal, its editors, received word from the US Geological Service that two chapters of the book were being “recalled” for “editorial” reasons, and all publication would need to be halted in the United States and abroad. The reasons given were rather murky at the time—some were vague stylistic preferences. Kynard immediately smelled a rat. He believed that the two chapters thrown into question were being stymied because they used the term “river regulation” as a key factor in the spawning failure of the shortnose sturgeon here—the only federally endangered migratory fish in the Connecticut River system and one that spawned on the doorstep of the USGS Conte Lab.

The term river regulation was accurate, precise and descriptive. It referred to conditions created when the power company, just upstream, either inundated or starved the bed of the Connecticut River via operation of its Turners Falls Dam. The dam is operated in response to the massive river disruption created when the Northfield Mountain Pumped Storage Station, a giant, net-loss energy contraption just upstream, either suctioned or spewed huge pulses of water in and out of the riverbed. This grim industrial model literally cripples the ancient flows of this ecosystem, killing millions of fish outright, while creating spawning conditions for shortnose sturgeon that cause spawning failure most years at Rock Dam. The Rock Dam, confirmed by Kynard’s research, is the only documented natural spawning site on the river. It appeared the USGS did not want something put in print that directly stated those facts—one that led straight back to the actions of a corporation.

As a journalist I’d already spent many hours with Boyd Kynard, asking questions about sturgeon, shad, and river conditions. We’d had many a fine discussion over breakfast and coffee, often lasting two hours and more. The idea that the book’s information was being embargoed, censored, really hit a sour note about free speech, freedom of information and interfering with the facts and data of research science. Along with Dr. Kynard, several of the ten co-authors of the book’s chapters from various labs and universities cried foul.

The US Geological Service actually caused the book’s publication to be banned for a brief time in Europe, but the publishers ultimately decided they would not be bowed by the politics of a foreign federal agency. They resumed printing and selling the book. Here in the United State, USGS held tight to their recall and vague objections to the book’s science. Compiled and written by Kynard and fellow researchers, The Life History and Behaviour of Connecticut River Shortnose and Other Sturgeons was essentially banned—with no schedule for those USGS’s loose objections to be resolved. Months passed as the silencing of federal and state research science and the work of those authors, continued.

What ultimately broke the ban was journalism. I interviewed Kynard. Then I attempted to interview his long-time assistant and fellow researcher Micah Kieffer, who still worked at the USGS Conte Lab. Kieffer was not allowed to speak with me. In fact, that spring he was unceremoniously taken off sturgeon research altogether, and sent upriver to work on studies of trout—far from his area of expertise. Ultimately, I was able to get Barnaby Watten, Branch Chief at Conte Lab on the record. Not surprisingly, he could provide no clear reason why USGS was recalling and withholding Kynard and Kieffer’s Chapters 1 and 3. After that I tracked down the USGS editor, who it turned out, had no experience in shortnose sturgeon biology. It all went into my developing story for the Daily Hampshire Gazette.

But what ultimately broke the embargo was my chat with an aide to Congressman John Olver—noting to him that a group of federal and university researchers had all signed a letter to his boss, decrying the silencing of federal and university research. In short, they claimed censorship by USGS. Free speech protections, university science and the public’s right to know were being thwarted by a federal agency. Once this was brought to the attention of John Olver’s office I was quickly informed that Dr. Olver, a former UMass professor, fully intended to “look into the matter.”

The next day I brought that bit of information back to Barnaby Watten at USGS, asking for a reaction. This was a Friday. And, with just that bit of inquiry on behalf of the public’s right to know, the federal embargo on the government and university science contained in Life History and Behaviour of Connecticut River Shortnose and Other Sturgeons, quickly evaporated. By the weekend, Dr. Kynard was signing and delivering copies of a book that was the product of his nearly 20 years of federal sturgeon research. My Gazette article appeared sometime the following week.

What made it so creepy—the recall and ban, was that it was coming on the heels of the beginning of the relicensing process for the Turners Falls Dam and Turners Falls Power Canal, and the giant Northfield Mountain Pumped Storage Station, 7 miles upriver. The corporate owners of that spawning-crippling “river regulation” lived right nearby. The land USGS Conte Lab sat on was owned by the power company. Hard not to contemplate a corporate connection.

Anyway, that fall, 2012, I began taking part as a participating stakeholder and member of the Fish and Aquatics Studies Team in the Federal Energy Regulatory Relicensing process for those facilities. I had a lot of science and writing experience pertaining to fish, dam, and river issues, and also had worked for both the power company and the watershed council previously. It was a pretty thorough bit of starter knowledge that I could make use of. I knew where the bodies were buried, where culpability for the abuse and failures in habitat protection lay.

Funny thing though, when the state and federal fish agencies, assorted stakeholders and the power company, FirstLight, sat down to discuss river studies and information needed to create new river conditions in a new license, very little mention was being made of shortnose sturgeon, the sole endangered species trying to spawn right in the heart of these relicense settings.

Frustrated, as deadlines loomed for the outlines of that spring’s fish migration studies were being discussed—all largely without anyone talking “sturgeon”, I phoned Dr. Kynard. In light of the seeming “third rail” absence of discussion about needed flows for sturgeon spawning, I asked him to release permission for me to use and enter Chapters 1 and 3 into the federal record of the relicensing. Boyd complied, and I quickly put all that science into the record so it would have standing. I also intervened later that spring when some test flows into the riverbed suggested by the power company were so low that they were guaranteed to interfere with sturgeon spawning. I won a change in the spring study flows–they didn’t get to low-ball the river’s only endangered migrants that year.

Shortnose Stout: a noble public information idea that ultimately went sideways; then belly up

Still, as time went on there just seemed to be only a smattering of lip service at the company/stakeholder meeting tables involving river flows and fish studies that mentioned shortnose sturgeon. It was remarkably, eerily quiet on that count. One day over a coffee meeting where I was downloading more long-term fisheries knowledge from Dr. Kynard, I told him that I had an idea for a beer, Shortnose Stout. I promised him I would find a producer for it, to help get the word out about sturgeon flows to the public. That effort would take many more months, but when out cycling one warm day I bumped into Alden Booth, owner of The People’s Pint in Greenfield. I told him I had this great idea for a beer name and marketing concept to help create change for an amazing–and amazingly ignored fish. He came on board pretty quick.

Over the winter things began to brewing. The Pint came up with a fine label, a Shortnose sturgeon backlit by a full sturgeon moon. I came up with the text, describing both the beer and the biological plight of the sturgeon at its spawning site, the Rock Dam—while pointing the public to the science featured on Kynard’s website. This was all volunteer work for me, done in the name of giving a voice to the river and this embattled fish.

The brand I created; my text, and Dr. Kynard’s website link.

The beer debuted on St. Patrick’s Day at The People’s Pint, and created quite a buzz. Meanwhile, Alden Booth had asked me whether there wasn’t a group that could be targeted to benefit from the sale of Shortnose Stout. I told him that I really didn’t see anyone doing any worthy river protection in light of this endangered fish’s plight. Nobody had taken up that fight. There was no one that deserved either praise or reward in the sturgeon’s name. So, it was let go at that.

The following spring, despite the Endangered Species Act, the published book, the science, and a year of Shortnose Stout, no one was standing up to the sturgeon miseries STILL occurring at the Rock Dam spawning site in the midst of federal negotiations. There was no action, nothing stated from Mass. Fish and Wildlife, US Fish and Wildlife Service, or National Marine Fisheries about stepping in at this critical time, and no USGS work to track spawning success at Rock Dam.

I did learn from The Pint’s Booth that the popular stout was going to be brewed again in March. But where I again would’ve noted that none were worthy of having stood up for sturgeon, I was informed that the Connecticut River Watershed Council was stepping up to collect funds in the name of the Shortnose sturgeon. With that I simply declined the invitation to be at that spring’s St. Patrick’s Day debut of a new batch of Shortnose Stout. Dr. Kynard did attend, and on the invitee list was also Dr. Andy Fisk, newly arrived director of the Connecticut River Watershed Council–happy to step in front of a camera.

Fisk had recently been pictured in The Greenfield Recorder, holding a bottle of Shortnose Stout on a bridge above the Connecticut. Any self-respecting shortnose sturgeon would tell you that the only site worthy of getting a photograph taken for your hard, hard work protecting this species would have required you to pose at the Rock Dam–the grimly embattled site that remains this river’s ugliest, most pointedly-ignored and undefended critical biological habitat on the entire river. The Watershed Council collected the profits and accolades in the name of the shortnose, while the actual fish remained undefended and under siege for yet another spawning season at Rock Dam. It’s great PR associating with an endangered species though.

I believe that was the final year Shortnose Stout was brewed. It was a shame such an opportunity for action was squandered. The miseries for this river’s federal and state endangered shortnose sturgeon remain today exactly as they were nearly a decade back, when a federal agency quickly stepped in and placed an embargo on a book written by researchers doing public research in the public’s interest, conducted at their own federal facilities.

The watershed council has since changed its name to “conservancy,” but in all its 69 years has never brought on board any legal staff, or adopted a mission to investigate, enforce, and prosecute—the basic things necessary to lay claim to protecting a river and endangered species.

The Connecticut River Shortnose sturgeon will arrive back at its ancient Rock Dam spawning site in just five weeks. There the riverbanks have been collapsing and failing, oozing a grim orange puss that feeds directly into their cobbled spawning pool home. The Rock Dam’s critical habitat becomes more debased, embattled and ignored with each passing season. Year after year, decade upon decade, there is no more disgraceful biological habitat—on this river, at the heart of the Connecticut River National Fish and Wildlife Refuge, on the doorstep of the USGS Conte Lab, just across the river from Greenfield, home to the Connecticut River Conservancy, than the ancient Rock Dam pool on New England’s Great River.


The Connecticut River’s Rock Dam spawning pool today. Shortnose sturgeon will be returning to this grim and undefended spawning habitat 5 weeks from today.

In the end, nobody walked the walk. No one stepped up; no one deserved to profit from the sale of a beer named to honor and protect a river and a magnificent and embattled ancient fish.

Here in Massachusetts on the Connecticut River during a critical and endless FERC relicensing process the only apparent player playing for keeps is FirstLight Power–the Canadian-owned, Delaware-registered, recently-arrived operators of these river-crippling facilities. Their shareholders are delighted, I’m sure.

What will our grandchildren have to say about what we failed to do here?.

(**NOTE: for further information related to this story listen to the following podcast with Host Monte Belmonte from WRSI, The River. https://wrsi.com/monte/saving-rock-dam-from-damnation/

A Connecticut River return to the bad old days?

Posted by on 18 Oct 2020 | Tagged as: American shad, Cabot Woods, Clean Water Act, Connecticut River, Connecticut River Conservancy, Connecticut River riverbank failure, Connecticut River shortnose sturgeon, Endangered Species Act, Eversource, Farmington River, Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, federally-endangered shortnose sturgeon, FirstLight, FirstLight Power, Greenfield Community College, Northeast Utilities, Northfield Mountain Pumped Storage Project, pumped storage, Relicensing, Rock Dam, Rock Dam Pool, Society of Environmental Journalists, Source to Sea Cleanup, The Recorder, The Revelator, Turners Falls, Turners Falls dam, Turners Falls power canal, Uncategorized, US Geological Survey's Conte Fish Lab, Vermont Digger, Vernon Dam Fishway

The riverbanks at Rock Dam
Photo
Copyright © 2020 by Karl Meyer

Note: the following piece appeared recently in VTDigger, www.vtdigger.org, https://vtdigger.org/2020/10/18/karl-meyer-a-connecticut-river-return-to-the-bad-old-days/ and in the The Recorder, www.recorder.com, (no story link posted)

                        A Connecticut River return to the bad old days?

Copyright © 2020 by Karl Meyer All rights reserved

On September 1st, FirstLight Power petitioned the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission for a 3rd delay in submitting final license applications to run Northfield Mountain Pumped Storage Station and their Turners Falls hydro sites in Massachusetts. In a process now in its 9th year, the Canadian-owned company wants 4 more months to restudy NMPS’s water release impacts on endangered tiger beetles 30 miles downstream. It was bad news capping a dismal year for a Connecticut River that’s not seen any semblance of natural flows in the Bay State for half a century.

Despite recent on-air, print and social media stories of cleanup heroism, secret swimming holes, baby lamprey rescue and adult lamprey barbecues, our river seems headed back toward its time as “the nation’s best landscaped sewer.”

In August hundreds of thousands of gallons of raw sewage overflows enter its main stem, fouling it from Springfield to Middletown CT. In June, for the second time in a year, toxic PFAS entered waterways at Bradley Airport triggering fish consumption warnings and menacing water supplies on the Farmington all the way to its meeting with the Connecticut. A year ago–almost exactly 19 years after a factory spill killed thousands of North River fish, that grizzly Colrain kill was replicated when sulfuric acid again flowed from that site into that same tributary. 

In Vermont this year structural problems at Vernon Dam likely led to the big downturn in American shad reaching central New England. At Vernon this spring structural problems at that fishway likely led to the big downturn in American shad passing upstream there to central New England. The partial blockage might have been caught–and repaired, had two students downriver at Greenfield Community College fulfilled their weekly fish counting obligations. Important tallying, via downloaded video, just didn’t happen–leaving the problem at Vernon Dam undetected for a full migration season.

Meanwhile in Turners Falls riverbanks were collapsing—some oozing grim puss that’s leaching to the most endangered habitat in the ecosystem. The Rock Dam is an in-river ledge that’s provided refuge to federally endangered shortnose sturgeon for centuries. It’s their sole documented natural spawning site. Pink-orange slurry has been flushing from the banks there for a year–running into the river’s cobble bed where early life stage sturgeon shelter and develop.

A red slurry enters the Connecticut at the Rock Dam
Photo
Copyright © 2020 by Karl Meyer

Visitors to the river at Rock Dam off “Migratory Way” in Cabot Woods will see a 30 foot hemlock and saplings being eaten by a sinkhole now big enough for a Mini-Cooper. Banks there slump to a series of nasty, yards-wide, gashes—one with a dumped tire in its center. Slime squeezing from them sloughs in weeping riverlets that flow the final few yards to the river’s sturgeon nursery as a rusty precipitate of oxidizing iron, manganese and other unknown agents. In a drought year, the adjacent muck-choked canal is clearly the destabilizing water source.

Upriver failing FirstLight banks are threatening Millers Falls Road and houses on a buff there. Pipe failure is said to be a culprit. The town made expensive repairs, dumping rubble on that hillside at a sharp river curve called The Narrows. Failures at such nearby sites might merit closer examination. The Narrows is where current pushes against the outer riverbanks–a classic place for surging water to create erosional impact. Northfield Mountain creates big suck-and-surge cycles just 4 miles upstream–sending down powerful pulses that cause daily 3 foot “tides” at Turners Falls Dam. Some can reach 9 feet.

NMPS was completed in 1972 by Northeast Utilities. Rebranded as Eversource and now expanding into natural gas, they are still New England’s grid monopoly and perennial major sponsor of the Source to Sea Cleanup. NMPS is a now 48 year-old FirstLight holding, but still sending its surges down the Narrows to that dam. There, they get shunted into the power canal, ultimately exerting pressure against its massively muck-choked outer bank–adjacent and just 400 feet from those dissolving banks at Rock Dam. Ironically, any flow the canal can’t swallow gets flushed over the dam in channel-ramping surges to the starved, oft-empty riverbed below. That parch-and-flood cycle further impacts Rock Dam’s shores; then heads to endangered Puritan tiger beetle habitat 30 miles away.

The muck-choked outer bank of the drawn-down Turner Falls power canal on Sept. 14, 2020 Photo Copyright © 2020 by Karl Meyer

The US Geological Survey’s Conte Anadromous Fish Research Center sits 250 yards from Rock Dam. Shortnose sturgeon and their critical Rock Dam pool were extensively studied by their researchers there for decades. Now debased and failing, it is ignored. What about the Endangered Species Act, the Clean Water Act? That lab sits on a bank opposite Greenfield, home to the 68 year-old, recently-rebranded Connecticut River Conservancy. Why isn’t CRC testing that Rock Dam slurry at their water lab? Have they sent any slime samples out for analysis? Where’s their Streambank Erosion Committee? Why would a federal lab abandon the long-term endangered species research site at its door?

As self-described champions of “Science for a Changing World” and “Healthy habitats,” neither has steered a reporter or video crew to that elephant in the room. Perhaps it’s their admission of powerlessness. CRC, dependent on various federal and state fish and environmental agencies for grant monies won’t likely be calling out their failures anytime soon. They have no enforcement mandate and employ no staff lawyers. Thus they never challenge the big dogs, and power companies know it.

If a river could talk I think it would say cleanups look nice, but they won’t save rivers. That requires an unencumbered 21st century organization—one with lawyers and an enforcement mandate corporations can’t ignore.

REIMAGINING A RIVER, Part 2: Not Nearly Hydro Power; Not Renewable Energy

Posted by on 17 Jun 2020 | Tagged as: American shad, B. D. Taubert, Clean Water Act, climate-destroying, Connecticut River, Connecticut River Conservancy, Connecticut River shortnose sturgeon, Connecticut River Watershed Council, Environmental Protection Agency, EPA, Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, FERC, FirstLight, Fracked Gas, GHG, Hudson Riverkeeper, ISO New England, ISO-NEW ENGLAND, Mike Dadswell, Natural Gas, Nepool, Nepool, Phil Glick, Sam Lovejoy, Turners Falls dam, Turners Falls power canal, Uncategorized, Waterkeeper Alliance

THIS GREAT AND BROKEN RIVER VII

Copyright © 2020 by Karl Meyer ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Issue # 7, Part 2, REIMAGINING A RIVER: Not Nearly Hydro Power; Not Renewable Energy, Northfield Mountain’s Transition from Nuclear-fueled Net-loss Energy to Natural and Fracked Gas Net-loss Energy.

Author’s Notes: It is impossible to write at this time without mentioning the obvious. The country is in a moral crisis right now and it is time to stand up for the rights of Black people, and for the survival–and revival, of our democracy. This is a precious opportunity, one that we squander at our peril.

In the river-keeping world, there is also an opportunity for change that must be grasped now. The relicensing of MA CT River hydro and pumped storage projects is quietly moving toward its end game. A new model for protecting the ecosystem for coming generations is imperative. These licenses will govern conditions on the mainstem river for decades to come, and there is not a credible organization on the ground here that’s up to the task. The link below was forwarded to me. This is what’s called for. It will take hard work, money, and organizing. I hope there are those out there ready to contribute for the love of New England’s Great River.

https://waterkeeper.org/news/waterkeeper-alliance-to-appear-in-the-visionaries-series-on-pbs/


9-6-2010: Northfield Mountain Pumped Storage Station under EPA Sanction for violations of the Clean Water Act forced to dredge the hundreds of tons of muck they dumped into the River over a 3 month span.Photo-Copyright-©-2020-by-Karl-Meyer All Rights Reserved. (Click X3 to enlarge, use back arrows to return to text)

The Connecticut River has been running in reverse in northern Massachusetts for nearly half a century now. Daily at Northfield—125 miles from Long Island Sound, New England’s Great River is strangled away from its ancient gravitational course and literally forced to run counter to its nature. It’s not some bizarre phenomena related to distant tides, nor even some twisted water park trick. It’s caused by the lethal, ecosystem choking mechanisms of the Northfield Mountain Pumped Storage Station.

That river suction and reversal is the by-product of a massive, net-energy-loss, power re-generation scheme begun in the early 1970s. Originally running on the profligate excesses of nuclear power, today NMPS plugs in daily to suck giant streams of climate heating, natural-gas- produced megawatts from a bloated New England power grid. By yanking the river backward, Northfield’s huge energy and water appetite results in damage across parts of three states. Just a fraction of its ecosystem impacts have ever been fully measured and understood.

Since 1972 there’s been just seven months out of one year where those impacts were silenced. Beginning in May of 2010–and for the first time in the decade after Massachusetts implemented electricity deregulation, American shad passage at the Turners Falls Dam showed dramatically, exponentially, renewed signs of life. The big mystery was: why?

EPA-ordered Dredge Spoil Dump Site Mountain on Rt. 63 site after NMPS choked on its own silt and shut down for 7 months. Today that scar is covered by a friendly looking solar array. Photo Copyright © 2020 by Karl Meyer (Click x3 to enlarge, back arrows to return)

By June of that spring, with the abrupt silencing of grim river conditions created by Northfield’s massive sucking and surging, 5 miles upstream of Turners Falls Dam, the rising shad passage results could not be ignored. Fish passage in the river and up through the power canal past that dam was already known to be sorely impacted by the annual deluge-and-dearth flows that Northfield visited on the Connecticut. Without its suck and surge, ecosystem conditions changed immediately. Shad passage at Turners Falls soared to more than 500% above the average for the prior decade. And, no surprise, the New England power grid worked just fine without the daily addition of Northfield’s costly peak inputs.

The Northfield Mountain Pumped Storage Project was designed as a net-power-loss, buy-low/sell-high, money-making cousin to the now-closed Vermont Yankee nuclear plant. It was built to profit by piggy-backing on VY’s nightly over-bloat of cheap, excess megawatts. With VY as its engine, Northfield started massively twisting the Connecticut into a broken, reversing knot in northern Massachusetts, 125 miles from the sea.

When it came on-line in 1972, NMPS corralled for its use a full 20 miles of river—slowed and stilled behind the Turners Falls Dam all the way into southern Vermont and New Hampshire at Vernon Dam. Since that time it’s been yanking the Connecticut’s currents into reverse and sideways daily, ultimately sucking them a mile uphill into their 4 billion gallon reservoir via net-loss grid megawatts. But with Vermont Yankee closed in 2014, Northfield is today juicing an ecosystem by gorging on climate changing, natural gas produced megawatts–which is what now powers half of all New England’s energy consumption. And, ironically, the bulk of traditional hydropower consumed in this six-state region is actually produced hundreds of miles away in Canada.

Plugged-in to run via four giant, reversible turbines, the Federal Power Commission in 1972 sanctioned NMPS to operate as a net-loss emergency back-up and peak demand regeneration appliance. It would do so by consuming 25% percent—or at times over 30% more, electricity than it would ever later re-feed into the power grid as peak-priced megawatts. After Northfield’s dumping in of its 6 hours of peak-priced, net-loss energy, it would then be completely dead-in-the-water and have to begin its daily cycle of gobbling up virgin grid juice to suction the river uphill again. Consumers would pay for Northfield’s privileged permission.

Upon start-up NMPS’s daily net-loss operations became the most disruptive and efficient fish killing machine in a four-state ecosystem. Northfield kills virtually everything it sucks into its turbines for hours at a time, drawing in at up to 15,000 cubic feet per second everything from tiny fish eggs to full-size American eels. That deadly draw is known as entrainment, with the result being all fish disappearing through its pumping turbines termed “functionally extirpated.” The daily carnage continues down to this day.


7-20-2010: Clouds of Silt Plume around a nearly-invisible French King Rock in the Connecticut River from FirstLight’s illegal silt dumping. Photo Copyright © 2020 by Karl Meyer (Click x3 to enlarge)

A 2016 FirstLight consultant’s study estimated NMPS’s operations resulted in the loss of just 2,200 juvenile American shad. Yet study results released in 2018 by the US Fish & Wildlife Service and MA Fisheries & Wildlife estimated the carnage from a year of Northfield’s operations was massively higher. Their study estimated a single year loss of 1,029,865 juvenile shad. And that’s for just one of four migratory fish species subject to its suction annually—the others are American eel, blueback herring and sea lamprey. Consider then, that there are another 20 resident fish species sharing that same Northfield reach of the Connecticut, plus recent findings that federally endangered shortnose sturgeon may also be present. The more NMPS runs, the more life it kills.

As far as Northfield’s massive energy consumption impact goes, here are a few recent statistics: In 2018 FirstLight reported to the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission that NMPS consumed 1.205 billion Gross Kilowatt Hours pumping the river backward and uphill to its reservoir. After doing so, it later reproducing just 907 million GKH of peak-priced power. In the following year, 2019, NMPS consumed 1.114 billion GKHs, while only actually regenerating just 828 million GKHs to send back through the wires.

The tritium-leaking Vermont Yankee Nuclear Station closed in 2014, putting an end to its 42 year run of heating up the Connecticut River—but leaving in its wake a deadly thousand-year legacy of high-level radioactive waste. Since that time NMPS’s net-loss megawatts have transitioned from running on nuclear to being the ugly by-product of sucking in the climate-changing megawatts from a New England grid largely run via natural gas. Natural and fracked-gas today supply nearly half of all New England’s electric power. And Massachusetts, living far beyond its means, is the grid’s biggest customer.

The bloated power grid all that juice is relayed over is today run, supported and marketed by the likes of the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, ISO-New England, Nepool, and a host of private corporate interests. The public is essentially shut out of both ISO-New England and Nepool decision making, as is the media. That is living proof of the failure of energy deregulation here. We’re failing our kids.

In that vein, there is another way to examine the absurdity of NMPS’s benefits vs. ecosystem impacts. FirstLight’s Northfield Mountain Pumped Storage Station’s annual net-loss-energy consumption largely erases the output of traditional, locally-produced Connecticut River hydropower from FirstLight’s own Turners Falls power canal and Cabot Station just downriver.
FirstLight’s 2018 actual hydropower operations 5 miles downstream at their power canal and Cabot Station reported generating 316 million Gross Kilowatt Hours of electricity. In 2019 FirstLight again reported on those hydro operations, which totaled 357 million GKHs. There was a 398 million GKH deficit produced by Northfield pumping the river uphill in 2018—used to later regenerate second-hand juice. That deficit erased nearly all 316 million GKH of the hydropower FirstLight produced downstream. In 2019, Northfield’s deficit of 286 million GKHs whittled the contribution of all Turners Falls hydro operations down to just 71 million GKH of the 357 it produced. The river and consumers pay dearly.

FERC, today, is comprised of just four commissioners, three of them Trump appointees who consistently vote to sanction big, climate-heating GHG extraction and export schemes for giant corporations. The lone Democrat, Phil Glick, is the sole voice calling on the Commission to consider climate impacts. Piggy-backing net-loss, river-killing power on top of imported, climate-destroying GHG generation is a grim business. FERC and ISO-New England have fashioned a huge, consumptive system where the public never has to give a thought to its unseen, climate-killing energy sources. Their scheme has blithely conditioned the public to always having at its fingertips a seemingly-limitless energy supply—deceptively cheap, always on hand, and available at a moment’s notice. By design here’s no thought process involved; no downside visible. That, in itself, is a crime against future generations.

In its current, over-bloated, over-subscribed power configuration, the New England power grid could run just fine without the daily depredations of NMPS’s peak use. Solar proliferation has recently resulted in the addition of 3400 megawatts of locally-produced renewable energy, nearly tripling the imported, 1100 MW of brief, peak, second-hand output from NMPS. Particularly in spring–when energy use is lowest and fish are migrating, spawning and a river is regenerating its life, Northfield’s deadly use should be limited to emergency output only. The carnage needs to stop.


9-3-2010: The Mountain of NMPS Dredged Sludge Growing along Rt. 63 after EPA’s Clean Water Act sanctions. Photo Copyright © 2020 by Karl Meyer (Click X3 to enlarge, back arrow to return)

Ironically, while Northfield Mountain was being proposed and ultimately built, a new coalition of anglers and environmentalists over on the Hudson River fought off plans for a similar pumped storage station proposed by energy giant Consolidated Edison in the late 1960s. That very public and consolidated action by citizens saved both the Hudson River and the top of scenic Storm King Mountain from becoming cogs in a killer machine like the one here. The on-the-ground result was ultimately an organization now known as Hudson Riverkeeper. Sadly, a similar battle wasn’t waged here to save the Connecticut. The top of Northfield Mountain was blasted to oblivion to create a 4 billion gallon reservoir and two massive, mile-long water shafts were sunk through rock to begin sucking up a river.

That failure to thwart Western Mass Electric/Northeast Utilities’ pumped storage scheme occurred even though the Connecticut River Watershed Council would be 20 years old in 1972 when NMPS finally plugged itself in. However, since that battle for the Hudson, the Hudson Riverkeeper and WaterKeeper alliances have blossomed into key organizations in ecosystem protection, proliferating and thriving via a very public investigation, enforcement and litigation model. They are upfront and vocal about consistently taking offending corporations to task and prosecuting them.

The only solace in the River’s history here in Northern Massachusetts is that the public got wise to the environment–and to the unending downsides of nuclear waste and building fleets of reactors and river diversions. In the early 1970s Northeast Utilities proposed another two nuclear plants, twins, both to be built on the Montague Plains. Their hot wastewater would be flushed into the nearby Connecticut River. They never got built.

On February 22, 1974, Sam Lovejoy of Montague Massachusetts set about loosening the bolts and toppling a Northeast Utilities weather testing tower, installed there to monitor winds to inform the planning layout for nuclear emergency evacuations—just in case there might be a little meltdown at the twin nuke site. That act of courage and civil disobedience, undertaken with deliberation and with an understanding of its potential civil consequences, bolstered a gathering opposition to the project. It ultimately helped galvanize a growing opposition to dozens of proposed reactors across the country.

It was a combination of that direct public opposition, Lovejoy’s protest and the subsequent discovery of larval shortnose sturgeon by research biologists Mike Dadswell and B.D.Taubert that ended what would today be yet another sprawling nuclear waste dump sitting above the Connecticut River. Again, a strong leadership role was not played by the Watershed Council. What ultimately made the difference was concise action, public engagement, and legal action in the courts. This was a victory for those who take full responsibility for the public turf they lay claim to.

The Connecticut River Watershed Council just recently became the Connecticut River Conservancy, but it still remains an organization laying claim to protecting the mainstem Connecticut across four states while not employing a single staff lawyer. Nor has it adopted a mission mandate to enforce and prosecute–continuing the model of a CRWC legacy dating back to 1952. The Connecticut River has long deserved better.