From the Air – Shredded Wetlands, Shattered Oil Infrastructure

I got a call right after Rita hit Southeast Louisiana from a friend of mine who works for Greenpeace. “We’ve got a plane – do you want to come take a look?”

Given that Rita had reportedly slammed two of Louisiana’s most significant industries, oil & gas and fishing, the opportunity to see the impacts from above was irresistible. “Where and when?” I asked.

And so I found myself in a single engine prop plane cruising over Louisiana’s coastal wetlands towards the Gulf. Our flight plan had us heading out over the outer continental shelf (OCS) area that’s home to some of the most productive oil and gas fields in the lower 48. We’d be trying to spot some of the damaged oil rigs and platforms that we’d heard about, then turning in towards Cameron Parish and the Louisiana/Texas boarder, flying over coastal areas that took the brunt of Rita’s wind and storm surge, then heading to Lake Charles to assess the Trunkline LNG terminal – an onshore liquefied natural gas processing plant that held the explosive potential of multiple Hiroshima’s if breached.

The view of the wetlands heading out was beautiful – such an incredible, fragile landscape. While what we saw had survived the storms quite well, the footprint of historic and ongoing oil & gas impacts on the coastal marsh was obvious: navigation canals stretched across the horizon – long, narrow, straight lines of open water carving up the coast. These canals have decimated the hydrology of the wetlands and speed their destruction. Louisiana currently loses a football field’s worth of wetlands every half an hour – wetlands that are critical birthing grounds and habitat for highly productive recreational and commercial fish species, and also function as important buffers from hurricane-generated storm surges for populated areas of Southern Louisiana – areas like New Orleans.

Louisianans often hear the lament of oil & gas executives – “if only we knew then what we know now.” I suppose we’re to assume that all would be different but for that big “if.” Myself, I’d just expect ‘think tanks’ and junk science hucksters to be pitching white papers to government agencies explaining how the canals impacts are unproven, that alternatives to digging canals are too expensive, and how important the oil & gas industry is to coastal Louisiana anyway.

As we head out into the open Gulf of Mexico, I’m struck by just how industrialized our coast is. Oil & gas platforms and rigs dot the horizon as far as the eye can see. Senator Mary Landrieu has called the Louisiana coast, “America’s Energy Coast.” She’s right. These rigs have brought jobs and economic development. They’ve also created a boom and bust rhythm for Louisiana’s economy to dance to. Unlike Alaska, Louisiana and her colorful politicians have been unable to harness energy revenues to insulate her people for the lean times, and far from receiving yearly checks, Louisianans suffer through horrible public schools, poor public health, and overall endure conditions closer to third-world than our country should tolerate. These are the conditions that were writ large over the international stage when the suffering in the Superdome and the Convention Center were exposed.

The rigs are a burden and a blessing environmentally as well. From a fishing perspective, the rigs perform as artificial reefs, adding structure upon the sandy, flat bottom of the Gulf of Mexico – drawing in red snapper, various grouper species, amberjack and the like. Of course, the industrial activity going on at these rigs could be fouling that well. The Mobile Register exposed some significant questions about the role the rigs play in elevated mercury levels found in fish drawn to them.

Flying past some of the behemoths it’s amazing to think that nearly two hundred of them were disrupted by the categories four and five hurricanes blasting through the region. Ripped lose from their moorings; the rigs had been turning up as much as 150 miles from where they started. We flew over an oil slick leaking from a damaged well that stretched for over five miles!

Cumulatively the impacts of the two hurricanes on Louisiana’s oil & gas industry are staggering – over 8 million gallons of oil spilled – some from refineries, some from tank farms, some from oil rigs. The Exxon Valdez spilled about 11 million gallons. While the spills were spread out for miles along the Louisiana coast, a more far flung area than Prince William Sound, it’s still a huge ecological catastrophe. Not counted in that 8 million gallon total is a spill that occurred earlier during tropical storm Arlene when an off-shore spill oiled a brown pelican rookery located on the Breton National Wildlife Refuge.

One element that needs to be considered as Louisiana’s Gulf Coast and New Orleans are rebuilt, and has not been discussed in any of the coverage I’ve seen – is what needs to be done to secure the oil and gas infrastructure for future catastrophes. The Gulf of Mexico is moving into a 25 year period of increased hurricane activity. Global warming is increasing the water temperature of the Gulf and making these storms more and more powerful; Katrina, Rita and Wilma were three of the most powerful Atlantic hurricanes on record.

While no one can say when the next hurricane will strike a populated area of coastal Louisiana, it’s a pretty safe bet that next year’s hurricane season will see a storm or two churn through the oil & gas rigs and platforms that blanket the OCS. Is the price of our nation’s dependence on oil and gas going to continue to be paid by the wetlands and wildlife of the Western Gulf? The oil & gas industry simply must do better in securing their production resources off shore and ensuring minimized impacts. Of course that’s going to take increased investment on the part of the industry which can either come by the direction of our policy makers or their CEO’s. Neither camp has shown much interest in improving off-shore security, relying instead on platitude-filled PR and the public’s apprehension of increased gas prices to keep from making significant improvements.

After buzzing along the Louisiana coast toward Texas, over miles and miles of decimated fishing camps flanked by an oily sheen that seemed to stretch the entire length of the coast, we encountered a highly industrialized area of tank farms, oil refineries, and the proposed locations for a number of LNG terminals. This is the Sabine Pass, the Louisiana/Texas border, and spot that Rita came ashore. It’s hammered and shattered. Oil tanks have been crushed and cast about like so many discarded soda cans. Tank farms have been inundated by the storm surge and sit under feet of oily water. Oil & gas service boats have been left high and dry. We pass over the proposed sites for LNG terminals – scoured by the wind and storm surge, I’m relieved that the terminals weren’t further along, as the LNG storage tanks are being designed to handle winds up to 150 mph, but I’m pretty sure Rita’s 120 mph winds would have given the tanks a field test we would like to avoid.

The impacts are generally overwhelming. The shredded wetlands, shattered oil & gas infrastructure, and significant human suffering all raise the question of the sustainability of our coast, and our current energy economy. If the hurricane season of 2005 isn’t a wake up call for a new energy future, I don’t know what it’s going to take, but I don’t want to be around for it.

Aaron Viles is the GRN's Campaign Director.