A Ray of Hope

On April 20, 2010, the BP Deepwater Horizon rig exploded, killing eleven people.  As a result of that disaster, raw estimates indicate that over 200 million gallons of oil have spewed into the Gulf of Mexico. 

I grew up on the Gulf.  My heart has wrenched each day with frustration and sadness, listening to reports of unsuccessful after unsuccessful attempts to cap the well… watching as the tally of dead shorebirds and sea life mount ever higher.

In 1989, the Exxon Valdez ran aground in 35 feet of water in Prince Williams Sound, flooding the Sound with 10.8 million gallons of oil.  Today I stand on the shores of Valdez some 21 years later, witnessing what I pray will be another full circle view of how the current devastation in my beloved Gulf of Mexico might heal in time.

Out of all of the places that we have visited in Alaska, Valdez has showed the most wildlife. A boat tour offered sights of sea otters, harbor seals, sea lions, puffins, and a mother and baby humpback whale.   Driving near the fishery, we spied a mother brown bear playing with her triplet cubs.  A yearling black bear fished for salmon among hungry gulls.  Eagles soared overhead while thousands of salmon returned to spawn in the nearby creek.  My heart soared… would my Gulf waters be able to recover so completely?

A visit to the local Valdez museum, however, offered a clearer perspective.  While figures vary from Exxon’s optimistic 24 percent, most estimate that only 8 percent of the oil spilled was ever recovered.  In areas of the Sound hardest hit, one need only dig an inch or two to find clumps of oil remaining. 

I read the list of animals recovered, those still recovering, and those who have yet to recover.  The statistics of wildlife lost were grim.  Over 4,000 otter were killed, many after rescue and cleaning.  During cleaning, their natural oils were also stripped.  With the stress of handling, dehydration, and exposure, the poor creatures succumbed in spite of the tender care volunteers offered.

Nearly a dozen books were on sale in the Valdez museum bookstore with scathing analysis of the debacle that followed the spill.  The sins of man permeated every aspect, including greed, corruption, and bureaucratic stalling.  To date, claims still remain unsettled, and many recipients are now dying without recompense or resolution.   It often seems that corporations try to cut their losses on the backs of average people who know right from wrong, not legalistic gray areas.

Time and again, lack of preparedness and delayed response in containing the spill was cited as the greatest reason for the extent of the disaster.  Window after window of opportunity was lost with no response plan in place, unavailability of equipment, and bureaucratic interference.

With the Gulf spill, these sins are already repeating.  Where was our disaster plan?

In the Gulf Coast petroleum industry, BP has long held a reputation of poor safety standards and exceptional risk taking.  As an example, nearly five years ago, fifteen BP employees lost their lives in a Texas City explosion.  Safety experts had analyzed and predicted fatal injuries several years in advance of the explosion if BP did not change their ways.  They did not, resulting in innocent lives lost and shattered.  It is documented that BP took similar “cost-cutting” risks with the Deepwater Horizon rig. 

Days after we left for Alaska, the Houston Chronicle broke another response story.  Three days after the spill, the Danish government offered high-tech skimmers designed to capture oil.  The newspaper story highlighted the current administration’s written refusal to the Dane’s for their help.  Why would anyone turn down such generosity, particularly in face of such a cataclysmic disaster? Was it ignorance or an alternative agenda that caused their refusal?  How many gallons of oil could have been skimmed in the time wasted between the initial offer… not to mention the Chronicle’s exposure of the administrations refusal for help… and the reluctant approval by the administration as pressure mounted to allow the skimmers into the Gulf? 

Sadly, it appears that we learned nothing from the Valdez oil disaster.  Neither the petroleum industry nor the government heeded disaster plans.  After the Exxon Valdez incident, all oil vessels in Prince Williams Sound must be double-hulled.  Each vessel is escorted by two tugs in and out of the Sound.  Barges with containment and clean-up equipment stand in the harbor, ready to spring into action in case of a spill.  Why did the Gulf disaster response fail?

Many may ask why I have a right to speak such outright criticism.  The Gulf of Mexico is my home.  I have lived on it from Tampico in Tamaluipas, Mexico, to the Biloxi shore.  I have traveled it from the Yucatan Peninsula to southern Florida.  My family has owned land on the Texas coast since the Sovereignty of the Soil.  I have walked the Gulf beaches with six generations, including my great grandmother, grandparents, mother, and siblings.  I taught my sons how to crab off a Biloxi pier and have hunted for seashells on Galveston Island with my grandchildren.  I have spent days sailing her bays, fishing her abundance, and sharing her joy.  And on one precious night with the dearest of friends, we followed a moonlit trail so beautiful that we actually caught a glimpse of Paradise. 

And I am not alone.  Others have lived on these waters much longer than me.  They have worked, lived, loved, and died along these waters.  The human toll of this debacle will continue to rise.  We may lose an entire generation of families living off the sea. I can only imagine how fathers must feel trying to provide for their families now.  Skilled hands that once drew nets or lashed lines must now feel clumsy doing inland jobs they never dreamed they would have to perform.  I ache for them and their struggle to save their way of life.

There is no time for patience when progress is stalled while some bureaucrat decides if he will grant a permit.  Each moment counts as oil gains on endangered pelican nests and mothers must explain to children that they have to evacuate their island home because of toxic fumes.  May God bless each hand that has lowered a boom or vacuumed muck or cleaned an oiled animal or prayed for us.

So where is the hope?  When God breathed our world into existence, He must have looked ahead to this day.  Amazingly, He has provided healing power for our planet when man makes his mess.  As a small example, God built in safeguards such as tiny bacteria in the marshes that will eat oil.

I know that the Horizon oil spill is not the first disaster to hit our planet.  Civil war battlefields, which once ran red with the blood of soldiers, are now green meadows.  Hiroshima rose from the ashes of the world’s first atomic bomb.  In Chernobyl, home to the most wretched nuclear disaster, wildlife now thrives.  Scars remain on land, wildlife, and human hearts, it is true, but resiliency remains also. 

Therein lies my hope.  Today I can visually see it on the shore of Prince William’s Sound with determined salmon, soaring eagles, and playful otters.  It lies in mankind who make their living off the land and sea… people who are as determined as the salmon to return to their trades and homes.  It lies mostly in the masterful creation and answered prayers by a God greater and more merciful than any of us can ever imagine.

Valdez has shown me that in spite of the sins of man that God and good prevail.  I am every grateful that it has offered this gift to one so unimportant as me… that I might have the opportunity to witness a hungry bear nab his salmon supper in a place where the world once offered no hope.  In offering me this gift, I can see an unimaginable hope to my home… my Gulf of Mexico.  


NOTE:  If you would like to learn more information about the wildlife along the Gulf Coast and saving oiled animals , please visit Roxanne's May 25 ad 26 posts on her blog at http://roxannedogblog.blogspot.com/.