SNOWBANK OR DROUGHT?

So much depends upon
The mad March weather,
Whether or not the snowpack
Melts or holds its own ground
When the depth of snow
Is measured at Lake Tahoe
On April Fool’s Day
In feet or in inches.
In the snowbank account
There are severe drought penalties
For early spring thaws
And late withdrawals.

1/3/23

Drought journal

I awoke this morning to the unfamiliar sound of rain falling on the roof, the wind picked up, and the pine needles danced on the tin roof like a downpour. A sonorous lullaby, and I drifted back to sleep. What is it about the rain falling on the roof that suits us so? God knows we need rain. We’ve had almost none this year. Sure, we had a deluge in October. Luckily it filled the lakes in Marin County and other stockponds, but most of the state did not get rain. Southern California has gotten more rain this year than we have. 

Another drought year coming up, I post online. Someone says no, another drought decade. And I think of all the decades that we have been in this drought. My neighbor dropped off a logged tree. I counted the rings and you could see for the first 35 years of its life, the tree got plenty of water. But then the rings towards the outer bark were packed in so tight that you cannot count them. These rings our drought journal, the real drought journal.

Breaking the spine of the drought (drought journal) (photos)

before the deluge

Dec 11, 2021

Dec. 16, after the deluge.

Breaking the spine of the drought. Winter light on Elephant Mountain, the Nicasio reservoir is still way too low—even after last month’s deluge. And all those Mt. Tam reservoirs are overfull. The good news is that water will finally fill Kent Lake and spill over into Lagunitas Creek, which means an actual real salmon run after years of no fish.

The old bridge is underwater, but the old road isn’t 

But both Nicasio and Soulajoule reservoirs are still way too low… Haven’t seen Stafford Lake, but I suspect it too is still low. The drought ain’t over yet. Nicasio may be a shallow reservoir, but in sheer acreage, it’s huge, so, if there was a lot of rainfall all over Marin, it would have filled up fast. But it didn’t.

There is less than 23” of total rainfall in San Rafael, a little over 21” in Fairfax, and 11” in Novato. And less than 13” total rain at Dillon Beach. Not all the stockponds of West Marin have filled. Some are, yes. 

We have been more or less in drought mode since 2010-2011, with two exceptionally wet years in 2014, and 2016—hence all the wildfires. We’ve had more drought years than deluge years since 1975. See how the water is up to the old bridge, left of center. Now, we’re up to the usual low-water mark level of winter. No longer extreme drought conditions. But we’ve still got a long way to go to break the pattern. See that tree line above the water? That is the shore of the lake.

Wild swan at the Chileno Valley laguna, victim of the drought

I fear this wild swan is a victim of the drought. The Laguna de San Antonio aka Laguna Lake!) in Chileno Valley, in both West Marin, and Sonoma County, has completely evaporated. A first. Technically the laguna is a very large vernal pool, the largest in California, but this is the first time I’ve seen it bone dry. See that swan’s big black foot? It was always suspended above the water line. S/he was constantly grooming under that protruding foot, it stuck out like a small black sail. I’ve observed this particular bird for hours. It could not put that leg down, and the wing too was permanently canted up. That said, it could chug along pretty well on one leg. With only one functional leg, s/he managed fine in this part of the laguna, but never migrated to the other side of the lake with the other swans, or to the Arctic either. No idea if it’s a he or a she—we like to assign gender to things perhaps to personalize our experience—but it never had a mate or any babies. It usually swam alone, apart from the flock. I’m not even sure if it’s a mute swan or a tundra swan. There are both found in the laguna. After hauling out the old photos to post here, I can see it’s a mute swan—an invasive species. Am I supposed to suddenly hate it because it’s not native? But I have unconsciously named it. Its beak is somewhere in between the two species. Tundra swans have yellow embedded on their beaks, this one has scarlet on its beak. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t commute. It doesn’t know where to go. Besides, it probably has been anchored to this spot of the lakebed for so long, it has lost the urge. Mute attestation. I thought maybe that fishing line filament caught up on its leg, but I never could get close enough to see. I thought about calling a wildlife rescue for it, but it seemed to be managing OK. Besides, can you imagine trying to wrestle a swan? I’m no Leda. Now, the laguna is only a mudflat, the lake is gone—and on the opposite shore, I saw what looked like a dead swan. A one-legged swan, stuck in the mud, sans lake, wouldn’t stand a chance of survival. I’d have to seriously trespass across the mudflats in order to cross the lakebed in order to verify it. I wasn’t quite brave enough yesterday. I did walk a third of the way across the lakebed. Yesterday, I found the tip of an old yellow fishing rod in the mud right about where this photo was taken. I imagined a scenario that the swan was anchored to that same spot via that fishing pole. It grew used to its confinement. Maybe that’s why it didn’t join the others when it eventually broke free. It couldn’t. Someone said the leg looks dislocated. Perhaps the bird eventually broke free of its mooring—perhaps dislocating its leg in the process. A one-legged swan, stuck in the mud, sans lake, wouldn’t stand a chance of survival. There used to be a lot of fish in the laguna. Bass, catfish, sunfish. Michael from Petaluma stopped to talk, and told me fishing stories of his youth. The one that got away. How he threw them all back. No fish now. Only the memory of fish. There are several new Turtle Crossing signs. At least the western pond turtles can burrow in the mud and hibernate. Can catfish hibernate too? I didn’t see any fish carcasses in the desiccated and cracked mud. But then I wasn’t looking for them. I could see on the far shore, a dead bird and it looks like a swan just by its girth—whether it’s that swan in question, I have no idea. As I stood in the middle of the lakebed, a white feather came tumbling toward my feet on the breeze. Perhaps a parting gift. And yet I mourn its loss.

We are officially in drought mode again

It's official, we are officially in a drought, again. I fear this is the way of the future. We have more or less been experiencing a series of long-term droughts inter-spliced with a few deluge years in between since the beginning of the 1970s. It’s either drought or flood. Not to mention wildfire.  The idea of normal rainfall is a thing of the past I fear. 

Northern California does substantially better with rainfall than Southern California. Especially the North Bay. After all, from Marin County north, we are part of the Pacific Northwest bioregion, though the Pacific Northwest folks would vehemently deny that. But biologically, and ecologically, as well as geographically speaking, we are all one large entity, sharing the same resources and weather patterns.

True, we are at the extreme southern end of the Pacific Northwest region. But when we do get rain, we get more rain than Seattle. The rest of California suffers much more from the lack of rain. So it comes as no surprise that we have entered extreme drought mode across the state—especially Southern California. But now it’s affecting the Southbay area and the central California coast as well. New victims of the drought.

Pineapple Express

Here comes the rain again... The Pineapple Express is never good for California water tables. It melts the snowpack, and then tries to wash us out to sea. There is no downriver or upriver, escape from the ravages of the atmospheric river in the sky. We need a stable snowpack in the Sierras so we'll have water in the reservoirs come September... But with this rain, it keeps melting. Not good. Rain on top of snow is disastrous for our Sierra snowpack, which is why California's experiencing a drought (simultaneously while drowning in water). We could be in the curious position of drowning in water AND still being in drought mode. It will take years, decades even for the Central Valley underground water to recharge. Meanwhile rain is falling in biblical proportions in Healdsburg. Everything is underwater. The fat lady is gargling, not singing. Maybe she’ll need to take up snorkeling. Or kayaking. It ain't over yet. That’s for sure.

See Rain, Rain Everywhere

Drought-breaker Day

It's been raining so hard, you practically need a snorkel out there. Most of the roads in San Rafael, Richmond and Oakland are canals. It's beginning to look a bit like Holland. The underside of my car is very, very clean. As are my brakes. Squeaky clean. And they are also not working. Soft brakes is really upping the ante. But the show must go on. We’re singing for the elders at the San Rafael Whistlestop Christmas luncheon for Bread and Roses today. We’re braving the storm with duck feet and nae knickers. At least Neil is, as he’s wearing his kilt.

In San Rafael, the water is all the way up to 2nd Street ramp by noon, and the San Rafael exit, near the canal, was a duck's infinity pool. Water birds were churning all over the place. Seriously partying down. Luckily we veered to the left side of the exit, and drove on the shoulder as the water was up to the bridge, and was at least a foot deep on the roadbed. The force of the water slowed us down quick. No need for brakes.

Of course we were late for our carol performance at Whistlestop Wheels. But at least we had an excuse. The parking lot was under two inches of water, and my boots decided to split their soles at that moment. It was a packed house. They had to wait for us, as Neil was singing the finale, Auld Lang Syne, solo. We sang extra hard to make up for being late. It was almost toast for us just getting there.

Driving home was another adventure. Hwy 580 northbound to the Richmond Bridge was closed. Probably an accident. Luckily we're going the other way. In Richmond, the Gerrard exit was completely underwater at 4 PM. One guy drove down the meridian to avoid the puddle. More like a pond or inland sea by the train tracks, reminding us this was all once marshlands. Kind of exciting at Golden Gate Fields/Gilman exit too. There were actual waves surging across the intersection. I swear I saw Nessie frolicking by the racetrack.

I think the drought has been thoroughly trounced. All that praying for rain is ganging up on us. Now we're dancing and praying just to get to the car without drowning. And Yahoo Weather must be seriously out of practice, as it predicted ZERO chance of rain today. And to think it was sunny this AM. Right.

It's a deluge, practically Biblical. The epicenter seems to be south of here. In San Jose, of all places. It just got a half a year’s worth if rain all at once. Flash flood warnings for the entire Bay Area, and massive flooding inland. The Sacramento has stormed its banks, ditto that with the Truckee. Some places got 7-8 inches of rain all at once. More than a cloudburst. Yes, the Truckee has leaped its banks too. We’re talking rain falling in biblical proportions—falling on the snowpack! The Pineapple Express has arrived decked up in full monsoon garb. Literally sheets of rain. There goes the snowpack, which means, pradoxically, we'll be back in drought mode, come summer.

Oh, and my new camera died today—a good soaking did not improve things. A lens malfunction—it's not even a year old. Ditto that with the one it replaced. I’m having a serious run of bad luck with short-lived cameras. But I do love the quality of the Panasonic Leica lens. And so I can’t even take photos. I used to cry when my cameras died, so much of my identity is tied up with cameras. an extension of my eye, but it’s how I process things, really. Still, a camera a year?

So I’m bearing witness with words today. Tears would only add to the flood. And to boot, my clutch is failing. Every time we have to stop, I wonder if it's gonna be the end. (We later swing by Mike’s Garage. Car is fixed, it’s not the clutch, but a leak in the hydraulic system. Next time, check the fluids.) The camera, however, is toast. Four years of praying for rain is catching up on us all at once. I guess the drought is officially over for a while. At least in the Bay Area. But tonight there's the full moon and the king tides....

rev 1/22/2017, and 2020

from a Facebook post.

California water wars: It's not about the fish, Stupid. That's a red herring.

Note bene: This post is a response to Facebook people's knee-jerk comments on an article by Jack Stewart in California Political Review. You may want to scan the article and rabid comments before you read this particular diatribe, as I begin this fishy story in medias res. A response to Jack Stewart's opinion piece,  Well-being of Fish Valued Over CA’s Economy and Quality of Life

Smelts are a family of small fish, Osmeridae —Wiki

Let me begin this rant by pointing out the faulty logic in Jack Stewart's opening paragraph:"....all the rain falling on California will wash into the ocean, instead of being stored for the dry, hot summer to come." Even the tittle, Well-being of Fish Valued Over CA’s Economy and Quality of Life,  is a real knee-jerker. Talk about hyperbole! It's a lopsided opinion piece parading as naked news.

All the rain? Most of that rain falling in Northern California will wash into the ocean because Shasta Dam is full to capacity, and because the rain did not extend south past San Jose, where most of the reservoirs are located, it will not fill those dams.

Only a handful of reservoirs—only seven out of a total of 55 major reservoirs statewide—are nearly full to capacity. But more than 26 of the state's major reservoirs are under 40% full (and a dozen of those are under 20% full) because all the rain falling on California did not fall within their watersheds. Besides, many of those reservoirs are dependent upon snowmelt, not rain, so Stewart should've addressed global warming's impact on the shrinking Sierra snowpack instead of fish.

Lake Shasta June, 2014. It's now full, but more than 26 of the state's major reservoirs are under 40% full (and ten of those are under 20%). Only a handful of reservoirs, seven out of a total of 55 major reservoirs statewide, are nearly full to capacity.

The (rain) water that Stewart claims is being dumped into the ocean, in detriment of the farmer, in order to save, what he deems as a worthless fish, is being dumped from our northern California dams for flood control. It's overflow, Stupid.

There is literally no place to store all that water when parts of Northern California has received 200% to 300% of normal precipitation for the year. Do you remember the the great Central Valley floods of 1996? That's what happens when the flood control system (and the levees) fails.

But somehow Stewart has managed to construe a tall tale that makes a small fish responsible for all our water woes. He blames a lack of enough dams for our agricultural woes (not a lack of snowpack), he equates the decommissioning of defunct hydro-electric dams, the destruction of orchards, and the upsurge of Central Valley's fallow fields—on a fish. He blames environmentalists and smelt for a much more complex water picture than he can possibly grasp. Talk about a snowjob.

Let's take one idea: save all that water; how? Perhaps Stewart is unaware that there is no pipeline infrastructure to move the excess Shasta water to, say, The (Stanislas) New Melones Dam (which is at at 30% capacity. BTW, in 1944, Congress authorized the construction of 1979 New Melones Dam atop the old Melones damsite, to prevent flooding—from spring snowmelt).

Jack Stewart goes on to say "As for the water now filling the state’s reservoirs, billions of gallons will be flushed down rivers and out to sea in efforts to protect fish, rather than being used to irrigate food crops..."

Is he aware that most of California's dams are dependent upon Sierra snowmelt, and that 70% of northern California's water is already shipped to southern California dams? Does he know that Castaic Lake is funded by Northern California water? Or that San Luis Obispo and Santa Barbara water also comes from the north? Clearly we're bogarting Northern California rainfall in favor of fish vs farmers.

Stewart is all over the place; he shifts his argument from Colusa County to San Joaquin County, and then illustrates his point with a photo of a very full Shasta Dam, when he should depict a photo of a Southern California Sierra foothill dam. Stewart opines, and conflates ideas but does not back up any of his statements with facts.

Of course, Stewart's shallow-minded wading pool readers have massive knee-jerk reactions. OMG, the sky is falling! And they curse the bad environmentalists and Governor Moonbeam. Instead, they should get off their high horses and get down on their knees and pray for more snow.

2016 rain map as of 3/30. The green band represents normal rainfall.
All that purple rain (sorry, Prince) in the north represents a deluge.
The brown, red & ochre spots are parts of the state still in drought,

Do you know where your water comes from?
Most of the Bay Area's water is from the San Joaquin delta.

Stewart writes that in recent years "trillions of gallons of water have been flushed through California rivers in recent years to protect fish." How about posting some supporting facts.

His statement is meant to inflame and enrage... Oh such waste. It's a crime. But think: is a dead riparian ecosystem better than a live one? The San Joaquin Delta is such a mess, thanks to over-allocation of water resources for upstream agriculture, that at times, it actually runs BACKWARDS, there's so little water in it. Now that's a crime against nature.

What's with the myopic thinking about diverting excess floodwater from the ocean, that's where the water is supposed to go, back into the ocean. We've already disrupted California's riverine and oceanic water systems to the point of massive fish population collapse, which in turn have triggered other massive species collapse. Not to mention the ramifications of the acidification of the oceans. Dead Sea ring a bell?

Smelt, salmon are not optional, nor are estuaries, which need fresh water to keep a massive ecosystem alive. Which, in turn, keeps us alive. 

I won't mention the problem of soil salt intrusion. Most of the Central Valley is at sea level. Flushing the rivers removes pooled agricultural run-off and halts salt intrusion. What's good for the smelt is good for the river. And that in turn, is good for the farmer. It keeps the soil and the water table sweet.

Has Stewart forgotten about what happens when the runoff from agriculture pools and stagnates? If the rivers aren't flushed, then the land becomes poisoned. Think toilet. Can I say Kesterson? Let me help you spell selenium poisoning.

Then, there's the downstream water table effect. A Contra Costa County friend, Robert Lee Haycock, stated that actively pursuing the death of of our great estuaries is not the answer. Smelt, or no smelt, fresh water still needs to flow out the Golden Gate. Saltwater intrusion is already a problem for East Contra Costa County's water table—Antioch's drinking water that comes from the San Joaquin Delta system, has been compromised. 

We've pretty much killed the San Joaquin River, not to mention, the demise of the King River, the Tulare Basin, and Colorado River, which no longer even flows to the Sea of Cortez, which has led to the near extinction of myriad species. (And has severely impacted the fishing industries.)

There is no longer a Mojave River, thanks to the 1971 Cedar Springs Dam which created Silverwood Lake in the San Gabriel mountains (part of the California Aqueduct which siphons water from Northern California too). From there, Northern California's water is shipped to Lake Perris and onto San Diego as well. 

And this unregulated water usage at the detriment of California's vast ecosystems is not just a Central Valley issue. On the back side of the Sierras, Owens Lake is no more, thanks to LA/San Fernando Valley, also responsible for Mono Lake's shrinking water surface. The Owens River is no more, LA/San Fernando Valley waterworks killed off the agriculture. Mulholland, et al, turned  the lush Owens Valley INTO a desert. Now that's ironic.

About the Damn Dams

CA has a thousand major reservoirs, many are flood control dams —Wiki

As to those few dams from the 1900s, that are being decommissioned, most are not even water storage dams, but outdated, inefficient hydroelectric dams no longer in use, and the water is not used for irrigation, etc. The dams are also silted up. Not to mention, old. As in cracked. To repair those Klamath hydro-electric dams, and add fish ladders would cost more than to tear them down. Of course, Stewart froths on about how it's a crime against humanity.

The Klamath is a mighty river, and those four hydroelectric dams should never have been constructed in the first place. The dams destroyed the massive chinook and coho salmon, steelhead (and rainbow trout) runs. Just like Klamath Falls, Oregon. Vast waterways were destroyed for "hydroelectricity." (But it was also the era of wilful destruction of native cultures. Destroy their food source. Destroy them. Don't call it genocide.)

Also, a minor detail, is Stewart even aware that all the good dam sites are taken up. Where does he suggest we put these new proposed dams? Or the crackpot suggestion to raise the height of Shasta Dam? There seem to be people living out there. Oh well...

Stewart never addresses the real problem, that we've outgrown and stripped our resources. (And the era of free federal funds for large dam projects is gone.) It's not about the evil Endangered Species Act, it's not about stupid smelt vs. the farmer.

I won't mention that we need those smaller fish to survive in order to feed the bigger fish, and that includes oceangoing fish...like salmon. And we've pretty much destroyed most of the salmon runs in California with a plethora of inefficient dams—especially those defunct hydro-electric dams slated for demolition.

Stewart states: "As a result [of the smelt?], nearly a million acres of the most fertile farmland in the world have been taken out of production, orchards are being bulldozed."

Most of those fallen orchards Stewart laments the loss of, are of recent vintage, and should never have been planted in the first place. Has he driven down I-5 lately and seen where speculative agri-farmers planting these orchards? On dry hillsides with thin soil. Are we talking of small farmers here, or agribusiness?

Pistachio and almond orchards are being planted in unprecedented numbers because they yield a much higher monetary return than, say, growing local food. (California nuts (the edible kind) are not primarily sold in California, but to the rest of the world, including Turkey, and the UAE).

Let's look at those pricey pistachios (one of California's top-ten crops): In 2012, a drought year, a record pistachio crop of over 550 million pounds (249,930 metric tons) was harvested, as compared to 1976 where 1.5 million pounds (680 tons) was gleaned. The average pistachio yield in 1982 was "1,468 pounds per acre," which ballooned to over "3,806 pounds per acre in 2010.... California comprises 99% of the total [US pistachio harvest] with over 294,000 acres planted in  22 counties."

The "annual “farm gate value” of pistachios represents more than $1.6 billion to the California economy..." That's after costs have been deducted. (American Pistachios) We grow enough pistachios to feed the entire world. And we do. And pistachios take water. Let's see, at $12 a pound,  250,000 metric tons is 551,155,655 pounds x 12 =  $6,613,867,860. It's not easy being green.

Now let's look at almonds (California's second largest agricultural commodity). "California produces 82% of the globe's almonds, harvesting 800,000 acres of the tree nut across a 400-mile stretch from northern Tehama County to southern Kern County" [read: dry desert land]. And "About 70% of California's almonds are sold overseas" [mostly to China], and "...the state will harvest its third-largest crop this year [2015] at 1.85 billion pounds" [down from 1.88 billion in 2014].

"That's more than three times what the state was producing in the late 1990s." Or  to put it into another perspective, that's "... twice as much almond acreage in California as there was two decades ago..."  (LA Times, 2015). Oh, and almonds are an extremely thirsty crop, more so than cotton. When I computed raw almonds @ $10 per pound x 1.85 billion pounds = ? Google answered with a smartass answer: what does a trillion dollars look like? No wonder almonds and pistachios are so green. And I don't mean that in a good way.

“The governor’s executive order said to the agricultural sector that it must only submit ‘plans’ for future drought,” he explains. But while the industry makes up only two percent of the state's economy, " agriculture is responsible for 80 percent … of all the water that’s used here in California." Hertsgaard has found that some of the biggest farmers of pistachios, almonds and walnuts, known as “thirsty crops,” are actually expanding operations and reaping record profits. At the core of the problem is the water pricing system in California, Hertsgaard says. Experts say water is still relatively inexpensive, so more of it is being used more than necessary.   —Agriculture is thriving in bone-dry California, and that's not a good thing (PRI 2015)

Most of the bulldozed nut orchards Stewart is referring to, were planted in the dry southern portion of the state within the past 20 years—where sagebrush, artemesia, and opuntia normally thrive. (Then there's the water-hungry alfalfa equation, hay being sold, not to our dairy industry, but to China and the UAE because of, well, for enormous profits...just like those greeny pistachios and almonds.)

According to California Agricultural Production Statistics, our number one agricultural commodity is milk? And we're selling all our hay ($1.3 billion's worth) down the Yangtzee River? What about the happy California cows? (See Saudi Arabia buying up [drought-stricken] farmland in US Southwest.. to grow alfalfa hay). (Jan, 2016).

It's a good thing that grapes are our third largest agricultural commodity. It's enough to drive you to drink. The cows, too.

I have not derailed. Yet. We were talking about smelt vs. water earlier, and something in Stewart's loose leaf argument sure is beginning to smell fishy. The center does not hold.

Much of the southern Central Valley is desert because we've already dammed and removed the major water sources. We've destroyed massive riparian ecosystems. Saving more water for crops in marginal farmlands won't reverse the desertification process once its begun.

The entire Central Valley was one vast marshy ecosystem/wetland: 16,000 square miles, one of the largest wetland ecosystem on the west coast of North America. All gone now. Twelve of the 29 native fish species are gone, smelt are endangered. Smelt are a major food source for other fish and marine animals.

What the hell is a smelt?

The Delta smelt, Hypomesus transpacificus, found in the Sacramento Delta, is a major food source for salmon, striped bass and lake trout. Like salmon, many species are anadromous, living most of their lives in the sea, but traveling into fresh water to breed. —Wiki

"The tiny delta smelt is a bigger deal than you think.... In the case of the delta, we're talking about a once-magnificent place that is in serious trouble. It is 16,000 square miles of wetland and open water -- the West Coast's largest estuary -- and the end point of about 40% of California's precipitation. When the Spanish arrived centuries ago, it was teeming with fish, crawling with bears and beavers, its skies periodically darkened with migrating birds."  (It's small, but it's a keeper - latimes, 2007

"The tiny delta smelt is one of the best indicators of environmental conditions in the San Francisco Bay-Delta, an ecologically important estuary that is a major hub for California's water system — and an ecosystem that is now rapidly unraveling." (Delta smelt - Center for Biological Diversity).

A smelt is an indicator species.

I agree that water needs to go back into the water table, and I don't mean by fracking. Agribusiness has already siphoned significant amounts of artesian water from the ground. Much of the Central Valley has sunken from 12 to 28 feet within the past five years.

"A spot near Corcoran, in the Tulare basin, sank 13 inches in an eight-month period" and "...UC Davis said farmers are pumping an additional 6 million acre-feet of groundwater this year, compared to 2011, the year before the drought started...." (SacBee, 2015, Central Valley sinking fast in drought, NASA study shows).

Garry Hayes, a professor of geology at Modesto Junior College, said, "The sucking of the water in the underground aquifers may be the worst part of all. Hard to replace, if ever, and yet running short too. There aren't a lot of good choices into the future."

Does Stewart think that we can ever undo that kind of colossal damage? Pump the compacted soil back up so it can again store water? Those collapsed aquifers will never, ever be replenished, as the ground has sunk. So the repercussions of the latest drought, in this case, are forever.

Ditto that process of over-taxing our water resources and destroyying ecosystems on the back side of the Sierras. Owens Lake, drained dry to supply LA, is an alkali sump. Ditto Mono Lake—we've diverted its fresh water supply too. When the wind blows, the air is toxic with alkali dust. Silicosis has become a chronic health issue for folks living there. (The Eternal Dustbowl, L.A. Weekly, 2006)

The amount of alkali dust billowing over Mono Lake the other day was like a vast white curtain, a death shroud that stings the eyes and irritated the nose and lungs. But I digress.

Owens Lake (10 x 17.5 miles long) held a significant amount of water until 1913, when most of the Owens River was diverted into the Los Angeles Aqueduct. Now it's the largest single source of dust pollution in the U.S. Image from the International Space Station —Wiki

And that rampant disregard for, and destruction of our water resources continues, with Nestlé pumping vast amounts of water out of Southern California which it sells right back to you, courtesy of the BLM. Crystal Geyser and Nestlé are siphoning off trillions gallons of Southern California water on public lands (pretty much for free), and then selling it back to us at a dollar a pint. So, do you buy bottled water? It too, is part of the problem.

"Nestlé is draining California aquifers, from Sacramento alone taking 80 million gallons annually. Nestlé then sells the people's water back to them at great profit under many dozen brand names." (Nestle Continues Stealing World's Water During Drought 2015). And in the San Bernardino National Forest (read; Mojave Desert), a similar scenario is unfolding: that's 24,820,000 gallons a year that Nestlé bottles—for free. 

Nestlé should not be allowed to remove our public water with little to no oversight from the BLM, its siphoning off 705 million gallons of water per year from California’s groundwater water supply. "If the Forest Service renews Nestlé’s San Bernardino permit, it would not just be a catastrophe for California, but for the whole country -- because it creates a precedent that even in times of scarcity, corporations have a right to profit from our most precious shared resources." Sign the petition here: (SumofUs)

And Nestlé isn't the only water czar.

Calistoga based Crystal Geyser is mining whatever little water that would otherwise replenish Owens Lake, and bottling it as well. "According to the Inyo County Planning Department, Crystal Geyser would extract water from three existing on-site wells in the shallow aquifer up to 360 acre feet per year." That's something like 117,306,515 gallons a year. (Crystal Geyser plans bottling plant expansion, 2012).

And like Nestlé, Crystal Geyser is mining more Northern California water as well, in Shasta County. "Residents whose homes and wells border the Mount Shasta plant worry that Crystal Geyser’s facility could leave them dry, and contend that some wells ran low when Coca-Cola was pumping there." It also raised an ethical question: "Should bottlers be able to pump unlimited amounts of water for sale during a drought?" (Resident group files suit over Mount Shasta water bottling plant, La TImes, 2015).

Mono Lake, alkali duststorm (due to the low lake level), Earth Day, 4/22/2016

Water conservation begins at home. It's not about farmers, or our drinking water vs. the little fish. That's a red herring. There's money to be had. And a lot of it. It ain't easy being green.

As H. L. Menken said, "Explanations exist; they have existed for all time; there is always a well-known solution to every human problem — neat, plausible, and wrong." Now he was one smart feller.

Almonds or apricots are not the main water guzzlers. Alfalfa, used to feed the cows, is. So, dairy/beef is our biggest agricultural water user.

What percentage of California’s water is used by agriculture?

• 80% based on the developed water supply 
• 52%: based on the total water supply of a dry year 
• 29% based on the total water supply of a wet year   

—Blaine Hanson Department of Land, Air and Water Resources University of California, Davis

  It's not an Us vs Them (agribusiness, fracking) vs (consumers) equation.

We all eat food, we drive cars, All of us here, in California, almost 40,000,000 of us—we ARE the problem. Deferring blame to the farmer (or the smelt) is not the answer. Yes, we need to kick Nestle's buttnuts, and ban fracking, and quit driving cars, but I'm rather fond of eating. Not willing to give it up. The farmer is the man.

So, I'll save every drop of water I can. Because I can.

Droughtful Musings

An East Bay gardener who writes a blog, Annie's Annual and Perennials, posted a blog saying that home gardeners are not a water use problem. Annie then urges us to go ahead and water that home garden—for the birds, butterflies and bees' sake. It's a mere drop in the bucket.

Though I agree with Annie that agribusiness and fracking are using the lionshare of California water, not to mention Nestlé, I disagree with her fuzzy logic and rhetoric, holding the plight of bees hostage to her particular train of thought.

OK, so maybe I'm a tad cranky, it was boiling hot yesterday, and the house never cooled off last night. It was so hot even the neighborhood cats and squirrels were running around buck-ass-nekkid.

My main complaint is Annie's myopic point of view. She writes: "If every domestic household in California stopped using water completely it would barely make a difference at all."

 And then she states that "residential water use is a mere 5%-8% of total water use in California." Um, Annie, it's 10%. Her solution? Keep on watering those gardens. It don't matter, nohow in the long run. How very East Bay of her. It wants what it wants.

Yes, but of that 8- to 10% (not 5% as she stated) of California's residential water use, a whopping "...53 percent of total average household water use — or more than 190 gallons per household per day"—is used for landscaping, gardening, etc.

Let's do the math. That's 14,000,000 households in California x 190 gallons a day x 365 days = 971,000,000,000 gallons per year, or 2,979,885.66 acre feet. (One acre-foot = 325,900 gallons). Does that seem like nothing to you? Now I really suck at math, but Lake Chabot has a storage capacity of about 504 acre feet of water.

That other 47 percent of residential water use is indoors. "Indoor use accounted for more than 170 gallons per household per day..." That's the toilet, laundry, showers, the faucet...and leaks! (source—KQED) Repeat above figures—nearly 3,000,000 acre feet x 2 = that's about 6,000,000 acre feet for residential use. 

After reading Annie's blog, I wanted to scream: So, lose the friggin' lawn already! Use your gray water. Get this: Annie showers at public pool so all that lovely shower water goes down the drain. Hmmm. 

I want to tell her: Shower at home. Use that shower water to water the plants. And yes, do turn off the water while lathering up. Quit shampooing your hair daily. Wear your clothes several times before washing them. Be frugal with your dishes. 

(About washing your hair: "By the 1960s and ’70s, however, women were being encouraged to wash their hair seven times a week, which not coincidentally was also when today’s synthetic shampoos and conditioners came of age." It's all part and parcel of a move to get consumers to, well, consume. Just say no.) Frugal water practices may be a mere drop in the proverbial bucket, but it's still water saved. 

The oft quoted: "agriculture industry, consumes 80 percent of the water used in the state" isn't accurate, but it's trotted out every time someone wants to point fingers at farmers and defer blame: the "Not my problem" mentality at work. So Annie trotted it out without examining it. Stats are dependent upon several factors and cannot be trotted out without reference points. Otherwise, you really are comparing apples and orages.

Agriculture uses more water than cities, but not necessarily 80 percent more because state officials also include environmental uses for that water, too. Agricultural use is more like 50%, depending upon the wetness of the year. And almonds or apricots are not the main water guzzlers. Alfalfa, used to feed the cows, is. So, dairy/beef is our biggest agricultural water user.

What percentage of California’s water is used by agriculture?

• 80% based on the developed water supply 
• 52%: based on the total water supply of a dry year 
• 29% based on the total water supply of a wet year   

—Blaine Hanson Department of Land, Air and Water Resources University of California, Davis

Regardless, I want to tell Annie that it's not an Us vs Them (agribusiness, fracking) vs (consumers, gardeners) equation.

We all eat food, we drive cars, All of us here, in California, almost 40,000,000 of us—we ARE the problem. Deferring blame to the farmer is not the answer. Yes, we need to kick Nestle's buttnuts, and ban fracking, and quit driving cars, but I'm rather fond of eating. Not willing to give it up. The farmer is the man.

So, I'll save every drop of water I can. Because I can. 

See, I grew up on spring water, and when the my grandfather's well (a seep cave) went dry during the 70s, we learned to make every drop of water we could eke out of the spring, count. And we recycled all grey water, because it mattered. 

We took a Saturday night shared bath once a week, the tub had maybe 5 inches of water in it. The equivalent of a five-minute shower. My grannie got first wash, I got second wash, and my poor brother was at the tail end of the line. 

That thrice-used bath water was then used to flush the toilet. And yes, we strictly adhered to the mellow-yellow rule. And no TP in the toilet either. It went into a paper bag and was burned in the fireplace.

My grannie had an old school wringer-washer (it used one 15-gallon fill-up of water to wash 3-5 loads of clothes. We heated water on the stove) and the rinse water in the bathtub (15-30 gallons) also watered the garden. That's 30-45 gallons total. We also wore our clothes until they really were dirty. Modern washers use about 60-80 gallons per load x 5 loads. Do the math. At least modern washers don't try & wring your arm off. Don't even ask how I know. 

Unfortunately our collective habit of showering daily, wearing clothes only once, then laundering them, is a modern phenomenon that contributes to a huge amount of wasted household water. 

When consumer goods corporations began to up their advertising game antics and successfully push cleaning products during the 1970s, there was a dramatic upsurge in bathing and washing habits. We became part and parcel of the disposable and thoughtlessly wasteful consumer culture. 

Our personal grooming habits reflect this rampant consumerism which lead to slovenly and wasteful water practices. Then there's Nestlé's pushing the 8 glasses of bottled water a day on us (and we don't even need 8 glasses of water a day, it's a myth.)

So Annie, though I agree with you on most points, I'd suggest that saving water at home really does matter. Think of it as a concerted war relief effort, like saving rubber bands, string and tinfoil. (How many of you still save string?)

And yes, I do water my drought tolerant garden with shower water. And no, I don't shower daily, and yes, I do wear my clothes multiple times before washing them. (I'm much more careful about my clothing and it doesn't wear out, or fade as fast). 

An added bonus of watering the garden with gray and black water (the kitchen sink water is considered black water—we wash by hand), is the unexpected surprise of finding long-lost flatware in the flowerbeds. I'm waiting for my teaspoons to sprout and am looking forward to harvesting my forks too. I'm not sure what the knives will bring. But I have hope. 

Meanwhile, the garden, despite the lack of water—as I do not use fresh water on it— thrives, and the hummingbirds and cabbage moths stop by daily. You can have your cake and eat it too. In this case, you can conserve water, and have a garden too without saying that saving water doesn't matter.

Uh-oh, I'm running low on spoons. Time to go and raid the garden.

Atacama Floods

Dear CBS,

The thunderstorm wasn't the worst storm to hit Chile in seven years, it was the ONLY real rainfall to hit northern Chile in over a hundred year. You do know it's the Atacama Desert, the driest place on earth?

The last recorded rainfall was about 80 years ago. According to the Chilean deputy interior minister, Mahmud Aleuy, it's also “the worst rain disaster to fall on the north in 80 years.”

But any rain in the Atacama region is a disaster waiting to happen. When the rain falls, it has nowhere to go. No vegetation, no soil. Nothing to absorb rain. So, it's all runoff. Rain never ever falls on the Atacama. Not even on the plain.

OK, so there was a freak snowstorm in 2011. Now that was an anomaly. It was meant for the southern Andes but the high pressure marine layer was disrupted. And it snowed and snowed. No flash floods were recorded but no one knew how to drive in snow.

CBS reported that thunderstorms dumped the equivalent of 7 years' worth of rain in 12 hours. That's technically true. But how you presented the facts was a bit skewed. How much rain? Seven years' worth of rain is 24 millimeters which is 0.94488189 inches. OK, so that's almost an inch of rain (divided by seven years), not a lot of rain, but it had nowhere to go, and the desert certainly wasn't going to soak up that weird, alien stuff. Think of thick dust on on pavement. Now add water. what happens next? Flash floods.

Normal precipitation (in the from of fog) in the Atacama is about 0.07 inches (1.7 mm) a year. And the southern region's been experiencing a huge drought. But if normal is 0.07", then I guess it's been about 0.1" moisture a year in the Atacama for quite some while. 

The Atacama Desert, the driest place on Earth, has been deluged by torrential rains and floods have caused at least two deaths, swept away homes and left the region without power or infrastructure. So, yes, horrific flash floods were in order. And sadly lives and homes were lost. Seven rivers, including the Copiapo River all leapt their ancient banks, such as they were. The rivers don't get much of a workout as most of the Andes rain and snowmelt runs east to the Amazon.

What's weird about this weather is that virtually no rain ever falls this time of year. If it ever falls at all. That's the real story. The sudden autumn downpour on the heels of an unusually hot, dry summer in the throes of an eight-year drought, has left parched fields. A disaster waiting to happen.

Northern Chile is normally cloudy (la garúa), but it never rains, as the marine front blocks all showers and thunderstorms. No moisture makes it over the Andes from the east, the mountains are too tall. According to a Chilean expert, Sagliani. "It is estimated that it has not rained in some places in the Atacama Desert in hundreds, even thousands of years." The surface is so like Mars that the Mars expedition test drove its robocars in the Atacama.

I was in Lima one winter, and there was no rain there either, but la garúa, the thick fog cap, blocked the sun for weeks on end. The only precipitation along the entire South American coast from Perú to Chile, is the condensation from la garúa. Not exactly rain falling in a rainshadow.

It's so weird to walk on bone dry dirt, there is no soil. It crunches under your feet like dried clay tailings or saltine crackers. I met people in Nazca who had never seen rain in living memory. But they told stories of deluges in Biblical proportions. And there are numerous ancient flash flood scars on the desert floor to support their stories. 

Sometimes rain happens in the Atacama Desert. It may not be related to global warming.

But the drought in southern Chile is certainly related to global warming. And this storm, destined for the Maipo vineyards of southern Chile, snuck past the desert goal keepers to weep in the driest of deserts and the world's largest open copper pits. Meanwhile, Villarica, a volcano in the south, which erupted on March 3rd, is rumbling again.

First Rain

No rain in SF in January for the first time in 165 years. The Sierra snowpack is at 25% of normal, and is rapidly shrinking because it's far too warm for this time of year, The Bay Area coastal hills are turning brown months too soon. And December's deluge destroyed coastal salmon spawning grounds. Washed them out to sea. And now the Sacramento River is too warm for salmon fry to survive in—a 95% mortality rate. Can't win for losing. And still, people are needlessly wasting water.

It's rampant selfishness. Seek dominion over the earth. Everybody wants to get theirs—especially if it's a finite source. When I tell a certain someone, that's all there is of a food or item, or the price has gone up, so I'm not buying more, he AUTOMATICALLY helps himself to more. Ditto with water. Perversity of human nature. 

And yet, people are still watering their sidewalks... WTF?

Bay Area map of where our water comes from: KQED Blog

Do you even know where your water comes from? In the East Bay, it;s the Mokolumne River drainage, Hetch-Hetchy Reservoir, and Sacramento-San Joaquim Delta—including Shasta Reservoir, and  the New Melones Reservoir—one of the driest reservoirs in the state. Check out the dam updates at KQED News.

"January is normally California’s wettest month, though for many cities across the state, this year marked the driest January on record. Snowpack in the Sierra Mountains is also still well below average, an alarming indicator that a fourth year of drought is afoot, too. According to California’s Department of Water Resources, the snowpack just a quarter of the amount that it should be right now, an alarming statistic given that snowpack is responsible for a third of all the state’s water. Warren Cornwall for National Geographic reports:
It’s not just the amount of water in the snowpack that makes it important. It’s the way snow locks water in place during the winter like a giant natural reservoir, then gradually releases it as snowmelt in the spring and summer. That release process helps keep man-made reservoirs filled during the hottest time of the year. Those reservoirs are already running well below their historic levels for this time of year." —Look at how much greener California is

California may be greener after the December deluge, but read my lips: WE HAVE NO SNOWPACK! That means no summer/ fall water reserves. The real trickle down story that is California's water, is sonowpack. Do do you know a snow dance? That's what we really need right now.

The drought has been catastrophic for California's wild salmon: about 1 percent of the state’s historic population have survived. Last summer, streambed levels were at an all-time low, and the salmon eggs didn't survive in the the hot, shallow remnants of pools. It is estimated that over 95 percent of all fish roe in Northern California streams didn’t survive the season. We need a method to capture what little rain we do receive to recharge the groundwater. Beavers, nearly driven to extinction, were spotted making a comeback in California. Could it be Beavers to the Rescue?

 
PS: It's no longer January. I think we'll make our entire February rain quota by this afternoon. I guess the clouds don't have a calendar. One thing true about California, is that we do everything big. Forget Texas. When it rains, it pours. Snorkels, anyone?



From a Facebook post:
February 2, 2015 ·

rev. 2017

Finally I get to test drive my Irish rainboots after three dry years. Esnorkeleamos!

Finally I get to test drive my Irish rainboots after three dry years. Esnorkeleamos! I dug my old leaky Goretex jacket out of the Goodwill bag (it's seen precious little action in the past ten years). The rainboots were new three years ago...but they never got any real action at all. Never buy rainboots during a drought cycle. The rubber's still good. Can't say the same for the jacket. 

And such lovely Wellies they are, with heathery plaid wool on the outside, but they're more like riding boots than Wellies. No handles. A little tight in the calves. So I wore capris and knee braces. Very fetching with my plaid boots.

Water under the bridge. It was about a foot deep under the underpass at Lakeview Road at Lakeshore, Oakland. Luckily the road is humped there, like the old carriage roads, so the center was only under a few inches of water.

I had to get food, gas, etc., (someone tried to hack my account.—so I had to go to the bank.) It was a breeze driving on 580 & 80. No cars.

Ashby underpass had a floater bobbing about. I guess the car didn't hydroplane. Just deep enough to drown a car. Kermit the Frog is dying of laughter on the dashboard.

The rich brine-laden air at the Richmond Costco gas station was like being on the high seas. Envigorating.

Did you know there's an Adopt A Drain program? My cousin was helping friends sandbag their house in Novato. Deep water on the horizon. People were out adopting drains. I think it's an excuse to play in puddles.

If we get an average amount of rain within a calendar year, and the snowpack holds until April, then it stops being a drought—which, of course, does not mean that we have enough water in our reservoirs. No snow pack = no summer water. We'd need weeks of steady snow to get enough water to break the drought.

The average yearly rainfall in Seattle is 36 inches, compared to 24 inches in San Francisco, Half Moon Bay 29", Berkeley 27", San Rafael 35", Kentfield 48", Occidental 57", Healdsburg, 42", Calistoga 41", and Santa Rosa gets 31 inches of rain per year. Then there's Cazadero at 100 to 200 inches.... Woodacre gets 38" so Forest Knolls is probably 45". The US average is 37 inches.

Contrary to what you may think, unless the Pineapple Express visits the Sierras, especially the Hetch Hetchy Reservoir, and the Mokelume River watershed, and suddenly turns cold, and snows, we ain't out of the drought yet. No rain at all in the Truckee River watershed. Tahoe's down by more than 85 feet.

There may be ten Mississippi Rivers' worth of rain stored in that long atmospheric river (nice one KQED), but the storm's dumping its payload in the coastal hills. It needs to rain lots in the southern Central Valley too. Not wash out to sea. We’ll only be able to say whether the drought is really over months from now. So don't flush.

Nicasio Reservoir, drought (photos)

Nicasio Reservoir, July 2014. The old Nicasio road, normally underwater until October/November, is to our right, about 20 feet above us. The water smells like cowshit. I found one dying gull. Shores are lined with feather flotsam. Meanwhile a band of white pelicans were practicing synchronized swimming/feeding in this inlet—in a perfect circle!

Other side. Panorama shot— 180°.

I'm standing at least 15 feet below the high water shore. No wide angle, straight shot. All that foreground is normally underwater, the different plants mark the evaporation trail. 

Old Nicasio Road to the left. Wonder if we'll be able to walk across it, come October? A first ever... Coyote brush in the center of the photo marks the high water shore.
 

Storm on Tam

Our first big storm of the year was merely a "wee drap" in the drought bucket—except on Mt. Tamalpais. There was a deluge. The Pineapple Express dumped over 23 inches in less than 24 hours! The mountain stole all the rain (why we need trees—to tickle the clouds). Apparently the Stinson Beach parking lot got a year's worth of rain all in one go. That's more than San Francisco's annual rainfall of 21 inches. 

Talk about a cliché: when it rains, it pours. Make that a deluge. If Mt. Tam snagged the lionshare of the storm—nearly 24 inches, I wonder what Cazadero Ridge and Seaview Ridge snagged? (Someone said 20+ inches). When it comes to rain in epic proportions, Cazadero never disappoints. On the other hand, Willits (one of the seven towns about to run out of water along with Healdsburg and Cloverdale) only got 6.6 inches. A drop in the bucket.

Meanwhile, the South Bay got almost no rain at all (a half an inch,) nor did the rest of California—from Sacramento on south. Drought means salt water intrusion in the freshwater Delta. Which translates to poor water quality in the South Delta which feeds water to the Bay Area, including Santa Clara County and East Bay cities like Fremont and Livermore; the Central Valley and Southern California. We're still in drought mode, folks. Batten down, and carry on with that rain dancing thing that you do.

added 2/17
see take 1. Deluge

FIRST RAIN

Everybody put your rain-dancin' shoes on.
Dance hard for some rain in California,
and for the greater Southwest from New Mexico
all the way to Mexico, and beyond.
Dance like seagulls drumming for worms.
KQED News sez: It looks like the Bay Area
will get its first real deluge through the weekend,
with 3-5 inches possible in some regions.
It would be the biggest storm in 14 months,
but will not be enough to end the drought.
We'll take any drops we can get. In the bucket.
Or otherwise. Wish we had cisterns.
And some real rain-dancin' shoes.

February 5, 2014
added, rev 2017

DROUGHT DISPLACEMENT THEORY

During drought season, drop a brick
down the inside of the toilet tank:
it will displace water—in order to save it.

A neighbor who had no bricks, 

added pebbles: chert, jasper & jade
which tumbled & clogged the flush valve.
She had to fish the rocks out the drain.

If you haven't a spare cobblestone or brick,

a plastic milk jug will do the job nicely.

Fill it with water, add plastic pupfish, 

cat-eyed marbles & fake plants.

Replace the cap. Sky blue is best.

Place your new aquarium in the tank

far from the floatrod & plunger valve. 

No dirty bricks or rocky beachhead
will plug the valve & the desert pupfish

will swim counter-current when you flush
& maybe the sky will open up & let them in.

1/19/2014 rev 2/11 & 24