In math, a vector is an arrow. In environmental engineering a vector is a mosquito. From Encarta: Vector /vekter/ n… 4. Disease transmitting organism such as a mosquito or tick that transmits disease-causing microorganisms from infected individuals to other persons, or from infected animals to human beings.
I am familiar with this definition because at one point in my career I waged all-out war on vectors. I worked for the California Water Quality Control Board, vigorously inspecting wastewater treatment plants, searching, scouring, for sewage gone bad. And I frequently found unruly sewage at lagoon-type facilities. A lagoon in this sense is a huge pond filled with raw or partially-treated wastewater. As you can imagine, a poorly-maintained lagoon will host all manner of living things: ducks, gophers (in the levees of course), microorganisms, plants, and vectors. The vectors like to live and breed in still water among the plants lining the edges. It was my job to harass the operators of such lagoons to keep their vegetation growth down lest they create a haven for vectors.
I lasted only 8 months at that job, not because I had an aversion to sewage (we all manufacture our fair share, for Pete’s sake), but because it’s just not in my constitution to be a water quality cop. So I moved on to civil and structural engineering.
I relocated to Washington state and was immediately perplexed by all the furor over wetlands. Here, naturally-occurring lagoons, aka swamps, were viewed extremely valuable, the more weed-choked and wet, the better. In 1992, when I worked on my first subdivision, a developer could fill up to one acre of wetlands. Then it got cut in half, then it got cut to 0.1 acre. Now, in 2009, if there’s a mud puddle that meets the criteria for a wetland, it can only be filled upon obtaining an elusive and protracted Army Corps of Engineers permit. And that’s viable only if the state department of ecology finds that the mud puddle has no “value”. Should the mud puddle be cursed with “value” the developer must either scrap the project or find a wetland bank to displace the “damage” done filling the wetland.
In other words, developers must promote vectors.
What most people don’t know about wetland banks is that you must replace at least double (and sometimes up to quadruple) what you filled. So if you fill 0.1 acre of wetlands, you must purchase at least 0.2 acres of wetland bank. What a deal for the vectors!
The other thing about wetland banks is that they’re typically already wetlands before being converted to a bank. The owner of the wetland bank must go through a colossal, bureaucratic process to “lift” the value of the existing wetland to a higher level. I.E., make it wetter and more weed-choked. If the land is sandy, well-drained upland (i.e., not a wetland) it will not qualify as a wetland bank in the first place.
I grew up on a cattle ranch and have as much respect for the great outdoors and the critters living there as anyone. But I also know that people need places to live. Creating those places uses up land and displaces animals. If you live in a house you need to come to grips with that.
Of course, we should be smart about which land we use up; certainly not prime agricultural land. But we’ve already got plentiful zoning codes protecting that.
Whether it’s wetlands, spotted owls, snail darters, or common sense, let’s not use endangered species to disguise our agendas. If you don’t want growth, fine, just fight your battle on the merits of that issue. Stop bringing in ridiculous side non-issues. Heck, before you know it, West Nile Virus may become more important than saving a handful of frogs, and governments will start paying developers to fill wetlands.
Copyright Tim K. Garrison, P.E., 2009
All rights reserved
Tags: filling wetlands, wetland banks
