EPA fears health threat from Columbia River slag

TRAIL, B.C. — For 100 years, one of the world's largest zinc smelters squatted above the Columbia River just north of the U.S.-Canadian border and used Washington's mightiest river as its personal dumping ground.

Until the practice ended in 1994, Teck Cominco, the smelter's owner, discarded about 400 tons of slag a day into the river — a practice the Canadian government allowed. U.S. environmental officials say the pollution has damaged a premier ecosystem and now poses a human-health risk.

The Environmental Protection Agency wants Teck Cominco to clean up a mountainous accumulation of the black, glasslike slag — a smelting byproduct containing mercury, arsenic and lead — which coats the shoreline and sandy river bottom for almost 130 miles.

If no agreement is reached, the EPA warns, it will add the upper reaches of the river to its Superfund list — reserved for the nation's dirtiest sites — a possibility that worries commissioners in seven counties who fear the stigma could empty beaches and campgrounds of more than 1.5 million annual visitors.

Teck Cominco officials acknowledge they dumped slag into the river for decades, but they say it's unfair for the EPA to single them out as the only polluter. As the river winds through Washington before fanning out into Lake Roosevelt, one of the state's largest recreational areas, it passes other pollution sources, the company argues.

For months, the company and EPA have argued over what should be done and who should pay. Yesterday, both sides met in a downtown Seattle office to try to hash out the need for cleanup and how to determine the health risks of swimming, drinking or fishing in the river.

EPA officials said yesterday's talks were successful enough that another round will begin this morning, yet no agreement has been signed. Failing to reach consensus could trigger a costly court battle, fines or international sanctions sought by the EPA.

Health effects

Dave Croxton, the EPA's cleanup manager in the Pacific Northwest, says he likes nothing better than casting a line into the upper Columbia and pulling out a fish. But the issue these days is whether that fish is safe to eat.

"It's a beautiful area," he says, referring to the tall, fragrant pine and spruce trees that dot the riverbanks from the border to Grand Coulee Dam, the cork that bottles up the river's hydropower and creates Lake Roosevelt.

The delays and negotiations over cleanup of the river are frustrating, Croxton says.

"We've been dealing with this for the past nine to 10 months, and I'm sure on the one hand (Teck Cominco) has always been willing to accept some of the responsibility," Croxton said. "But we've not seen the commitment to meet our kind of standard for what needs to be done."

According to a 2001 EPA study of the upper river and northern finger of Lake Roosevelt, inhaling airborne particles of Teck Cominco slag, accidentally ingesting it in river water, or eating contaminated fish can be dangerous to human health.

Studies of the river's sediment and beaches showed areas contaminated by slag contain the carcinogen lead in levels sometimes 43 times greater than accepted standards for benthic life — invertebrate fish food such as snails, midges and worms.

Mercury — which can cause neurological damage — is almost eight times greater than benthic life standards, while arsenic, another carcinogen, is about three times higher. Other metals are sometimes more than 100 times above safe ecological levels.

If fish are eating food loaded with those metals, the EPA says, then people eating those fish also could be absorbing dangerous toxins.

And with such large amounts on public beaches, it's practically impossible for people to avoid inhaling particles, tracking slag dust back to their cars or homes, or possibly swallowing slag particles that float on the water's surface, the 2001 study suggested.

Danger disputed

Twelve miles south of the border is Northport, a small Stevens County town that is a hot spot not just for recreation but also pollution.

Heather Stoddard, 19, sits in her old blue Chevy at the park, waiting for her brother, who is swimming nearby. She confesses she's heard health warnings, and yet she ignores them.

"They tell us not to drink the water and stuff," Stoddard says as her brother leaps off the edge of the dock. Pieces of black slag float on the surface in the little, rocky-bottomed bay.

"If I were going to get sick, wouldn't I have already?" Stoddard asks, adding she swims here daily during the summer.

But when told that mercury and lead poisoning can take years to develop into neurological problems and cancer, Stoddard squints her eyes and reconsiders. "Maybe I shouldn't swim here," she says, yelling louder for her brother to get out of the water.

Teck Cominco says there's nothing dangerous about its slag, even though it dumped tons into the river. "The EPA is unjustly alarming the public," said Mark Edwards, environmental manager at the Trail smelter. "There is metal in the sediments, and yes, we've released slag. But it's not leaching into the water."

Teck Cominco challenges the EPA study for not explaining that since slag is a glasslike substance, there is little chance metals are escaping into the water or being absorbed by fish — an argument the EPA flat out disputes. The mercury and other metals, Teck Cominco officials contend, also come from other mining sources in the region.

Five river miles north of Northport, a half-dozen men and women fish faster waters for walleye and rainbow trout. Stories abound of 4-feet-long white sturgeon — now believed to be almost extirpated from the river because of pollution. The sand is the same hot, black substance residents have been warned to avoid. The black slag is nearly 2 feet deep in places.

Says Jim Torpey, a former Bremerton resident, people enjoy the black sand for its "uniqueness."

"They call this Black Sand Beach, and it makes for a wonderful beach," he said. "I've been fishing here for three years, and I've never noticed any problems with the fish. They've been fat and feisty."

Teck Cominco has been working on an assessment of ecology surrounding its smelter on the Canadian side of the border for a couple years now. The assessment, which includes the Columbia River, is being completed in cooperation with the EPA equivalent in British Columbia — the Ministry of Water, Land and Air Protection.

So far, the company says the results show no problems with the wildlife or fish. The EPA says the study falls short of its standards.

The company also says it would be glad to work with the EPA if it weren't singled out as the lone polluter.

"We're not adverse to helping pay or conduct the studies. We have a long history of stepping up to the plate," Edwards said. "But the Columbia River's problems are bigger than us."

Studies conducted by the Washington Department of Ecology and the U.S. Geological Survey show problems other than slag with the upper Columbia River.

A 1992 study by the Ecology Department suggests the Celgar pulp mill in Castlegar, B.C., is the main source for high levels of dioxins, considered carcinogens in large amounts. The state Department of Health has recommended a daily limit of one fish, regardless of species, because of dioxin concerns in Lake Roosevelt.

State health officials also warn that walleye taken from Lake Roosevelt should be eaten only twice a week because of mercury contamination.

Foot dragging alleged

The EPA says the smelter company has dragged its feet when asked to sign an agreement to conduct studies with the EPA as the lead agency. "We're basically saying there's clearly a condition here that needs to be further evaluated and addressed," Croxton said.

The EPA says a full-blown study, possibly taking two years, is needed for the upper Columbia River, including Lake Roosevelt. The next step would be creating a cleanup plan — including dredging and beach closings — that could take years and cost millions of dollars.

Yesterday's meeting, solely between scientists and absent of lawyers, was supposed to address some of those questions, Croxton said.

"We hope this meeting delivers some agreement," Croxton said. "Otherwise, we have to pursue other legal action. We're already meeting with the Department of Justice to consider that."

The Justice Department could pressure Canadian officials to take action against Teck Cominco as well as seek sanctions and fines.

The thought of involving the Justice Department or beginning the Superfund process scares Stevens County Commissioner Merrill Ott. He says the counties along the river risk losing their economic base if visitors are afraid to swim in the water.

Ott is chairman of a regional committee that was approached by Teck Cominco. The company has said it will pay for studies to determine whether it's safe to swim in the water, drink the water or eat the fish from the river.

Ott says he would prefer working with Teck Cominco than with the EPA.

Town's lifeblood

You can't miss the smelter in Trail. With its tall smokestacks and large, angular buildings sitting atop a knoll, it's the first thing one sees entering town. Directly below the smelter is the fast-flowing Columbia.

Mayor Dieter Bogs says he's read the stories focused on the pollution debate and wonders whether this is the spark that will cause Teck Cominco to relocate. The company has threatened to do so before, he said.

"Trail is Cominco," Bogs said. "It would be impossible to replace them here."

There's no question that the city's population of 7,000 relies on the smelter, the area's largest employer with 1,500 jobs. Local families have worked there for generations.

The smelter receives metals and materials from all over the world but mostly from mines in Alaska — such as Teck Cominco's Red Dog Mine, which has its own pollution problems.

The Trail smelts about 20 metal and chemical products including lead, zinc, some silver and gold. The metals are used to manufacture batteries, jewelry, electronics and other products worldwide.

Last year, the smelter consumed 1,587 tons of zinc and 342 tons of lead a day, using enough electricity to power a city of 250,000 people. The company controls about 4 percent of the Western world's zinc production and 2 percent of the Western world's lead production.

As mined ore is processed, impurities are cooked out and siphoned off. The remainder is a mountain of black granular slag. No longer able to dump it in the river, Teck Cominco is working to sell its slag, which can be used to manufacture concrete and create roads.

Dave Godlewski, a company spokesman, says, the company has spent nearly $1 billion over the past 20 years in cleaning up its operations. It has limited airborne emissions of lead and sulfur dioxide, replanted trees lost from air pollution and embarked on an expansive study of lead levels in Trail's children.

While the lead levels in children have dropped year after year, they're still higher than the U.S. average. Radio spots remind residents to water their drives and sidewalks to prevent lead dust from spreading.

'A polluted legacy'

Time is running out on the river, says Patti Stone, a Colville tribal member. The river flows through the Confederated Tribes of the Colville Reservation. If the EPA doesn't take action soon, livelihoods will be lost, Stone said.

Standing atop a precipice underneath a pine canopy, Stone points out where historic Kettle Falls once roared — before they were silenced by the creation of Lake Roosevelt.

While the tribes manage fish in the lake with money from casinos, marinas and boating rentals, members also could lose money if there is a protracted cleanup.

Though the lake's water levels are high this day, some years the water is so low one can see the forgotten cliffs that once created Kettle Falls, where ancient tribal members stood on rocks and speared hundreds of salmon a day.

"The tribe is committed to the health of this river," Stone said. "But there isn't enough data or toxicology to know exactly what is wrong and what should be done."

Stone and others fear yesterday's meeting will initiate more process and little true progress.

"Right now, we're only left with a legacy," she said, referring to her ancestors' way of life. "A polluted legacy."

Christopher Schwarzen: 425-783-0577 or cschwarzen@seattletimes.com